The blankets and bundles carried on the raft were pretty well soaked by the rain and the whirling waters of the caÑon, but as soon as supper was over Sam gave orders to have the things spread out and dried before the fire.

In this work all took an eager part, and as they had been able to collect plenty of fuel, they were enabled to build such a fire as had never chased the night shadows from that part of Grand River CaÑon before.

When the blankets were dried they were spread over heaps of cedar boughs and made beds that would have tempted a dyspeptic to sleep.

But, though very weary, our friends did not lie down at once, but sat before the fire speculating and wondering if they would be able to climb out of the caÑon on the morrow and make their way to Hurley's Gulch.

Although there was no danger in this place from wild beasts or savage foes, Sam Willett began to-night a system of guard duty which he kept up during all the nights of his perilous journey.

His great fear now was that the flood might rise and carry off the raft or drown out their camping-place, as it was evident it had done on many former occasions.

That they might not be taken by surprise, he divided the night into four watches, to begin at nine o'clock and to continue till five, when it would be broad daylight.

Each one was to stand guard two hours at a time and to wake the next one when his watch had expired. The order was to be changed every night so that no one would have to be on duty at the same time two nights in succession.

This arrangement met with the approval of all, and Sam took the first turn on guard.

The others lay down with the promptness of soldiers when the word of command was given, and they were soon sleeping soundly.

Sam had an excellent watch, the gift of his dead mother and valued accordingly, and this enabled them to measure the time with military exactness.

The flood rose about a foot during the night, but beyond this, nothing of a startling nature occurred.

They breakfasted the following morning before it was quite light, and when the glow of the rising sun could be seen on the crest of the peaks that towered for many hundreds of feet above the bed of the stream, Sam and Ulna started off to see if they could find a way to the upper world, leaving Ike and Wah Shin in charge of the camp.

These two worthies were the best of friends, and when together they talked in a way that would have been very amusing to any one who could have overheard it.

"Dis am a mighty queah place," said Ike, glancing about him after Sam and Ulna had got out of hearing.

"A belly funny hole, way, way down flom wo'ld," said Wah Shin as he imitated Ike's movements.

"Wah Shin."

"Go on chin, me heal you," said Wah Shin.

"Do you t'ink God made all de world?"

"Oh, me t'ink so," said Wah Shin carelessly.

"An' eberyting He made 's got some use?"

"Oh, yes, allee tings got some use—mebbe."

"An' He made dese canyons?"

"Don't know 'bout dem," said Wah Shin dubiously.

"Wa'al, if God didn't make de canyons, who did?" asked Ike, with a manner that indicated his appreciation of the great weight of the question.

To confess ignorance of a subject is a manly habit which very few are addicted to. Wah Shin at once proved that he did not consider himself an authority on all matters, for he said, promptly and frankly:

"Me don't know."

"Dey aint got no use, ez I ken see," continued Ike, "an' it's my farm belief dat dat oder pusson ez goes roun' like a roarin' lion dug out dese yer canawls an' den found ez he had no watah to fill 'em up wid."

"Mebbe so—me don't know."

"Now, if dey was filled wid fire," said Ike, with the same wise manner, "I'd call it a fust-rate job—ob de kind."

"Ha, ha!" roared Wah Shin, as if he caught the sharpest point of an excellent joke. "'Spose alle file, den wat we do, eh?"

"We wouldn't be har," said Ike.

"But no cannee help oursels."

"Reckon yer right. Ez atween de two, I goes in foh watah ebery day in de week an' twice on Sundays. But if I'd had de buildin' ob dese yer canyons I wouldn't hab wasted sich a mighty sight ob stone in puttin' in de banks. But den eberyting in dis yer world ain't jest as we'd like to have it, so it's better to take tings as dey come; what do you say, Wah Shin?"

"We gottee take it as it come—no can help oulsels," said Wah Shin grimly.

This phase of the situation was so self-evident that even Ike could not think of objecting to it, so he began to whistle a hymn tune and to pack up the food and blankets so that they might be all ready to start when Sam and Ulna returned with the information that they had discovered a way out of the caÑon.

But this hope, after having been strongly cherished for three hours, was doomed to disappointment.

Shortly before noon the two explorers returned, and though Sam's face told of his failure, Ike could not help asking:

"Wa'al, Mistah Sam, wat luck?"

"Poor luck, Ike," was the sad reply.

"Couldn't find de way out, eh?"

"There is no way to find. Every wall we came to is as high and steep as those about the camp," said Sam, with a sigh and an upward glance at the perpendicular cliffs that appeared to be bending over them, as if the touch of a child's hand might tumble them into the chasm.

"Undah sich sarcumstances ez dem," said Ike, very solemnly, "wat do yeh tinks best to be done?"

"We must leave here at once."

"But how's it to be did, Mistah Sam?"

"We must leave as we came."

"On de raft?"

"Yes."

"Wa'al, dat's a heap sight moah comfotable way dan if we had to swim foh it," said Ike, with a sudden display of cheerfulness.

Sam now began to realize that their stock of provisions was small, that there was no way of replenishing them in the caÑon, and that their stay in these depths was very indefinite, if, indeed, the chances were not all against their ever being able to get out.

He saw that it would be a mistaken kindness if he let the others or himself eat all that they desired, and great as his affection was for Maj, the dog, he regretted that the animal was along, for it made another and a very large mouth to feed.

With force and frankness he laid the case before his companions, and without a sign of dissent, they agreed to have the food so divided as to make it last for ten days, before which time the least hopeful was certain they would again be in the upper world.

A dinner of limited rations was at once eaten, and though it was ample, every one of them thought that he could easily eat as much more and not feel that he was playing the glutton.

Again the cargo was placed securely on the raft, and Maj walked demurely on board and lay down on top of the blankets.

After strengthening the raft by the addition of some pieces of light, dry cedar, it was freed from its moorings and pushed into the current.

The four passengers occupied the same relative positions as on the previous day, Sam standing in the stern and skilfully steering the float from the many angry-looking rocks that jutted into the swift current.

As the light began to fade, Sam gazed eagerly in front and on either side in the hope of being able to find some expansion or ledge on which they could land for the night. But an impenetrable darkness settled over them, and they were still afloat in the caÑon.