"Let's build a fire and go to bed. We'll have enough to do
to-morrow--hunting gold!" The fourth day's journey was begun before it
was yet light. Breakfast was eaten in the glow of the camp-fire, and
by the time dawn broke the adventurers were already an hour upon their
way. Nothing but confidence now, animated them. The mad hunter and his
golden bullets were entirely forgotten in these last hours of their
exciting quest. Once, far back, Rod had thought with chilling dread
that this might be the madman's trail, that his golden bullets might
come from the treasure they were seeking. But he gave no thought to
this possibility now. His own belief that the third and last fall was
not far distant, in spite of the evidence of the map, gradually gained
possession of his companions, and the nerves of all three were keyed
to the highest tension of expectancy. The preceding night Mukoki had
made himself a paddle to replace the one he had broken, and not a
stroke of the three pairs of arms was lost. Early in the morning a
young moose allowed them to pass within a hundred yards of him. But no
shot was fired, for to obtain the meat would have meant an hour's loss
of time.

Two hours after the start the country again began taking on a sudden
change. From east and west the wild mountain ridges closed in, and
with each mile's progress the stream narrowed and grew swifter, until
again it was running between chasm walls that rose black and silent
over the adventurers' heads. Darker and gloomier became the break
between the mountains. Far above, a thousand feet or more, dense
forests of red pine flung their thick shadows over the edge of the
chasm, in places almost completely shutting out the light of day.
This was not like the other chasm. It was deeper and darker and more
sullen. Under its walls the gloom was almost that of night. Its
solitude was voiceless; not a bird fluttered or chirped among