But the warning came too late. The pack horses, with one impulse, had entered the water close behind their leaders, and among the rest those bearing the Bradfords, who had no effectual means of checking their steeds or guiding them. In two minutes every horse in the train had gone beyond his depth and was snorting and floundering in the current, or vainly trying to gain a foothold on the steep bank, while some of the more heavily laden ones, including those to which the Bradfords were clinging, borne down by their loads and the pressure of their neighbors, sank beneath the surface more than once. Several became entangled in submerged tree-roots, but cleared themselves. The whole mass of frightened, splashing, struggling animals was presently going down the stream as the steeds of the packers had done. In the midst of this confusion the Bradfords, drenched and helpless, could only hang desperately to ropes and packs, holding themselves ready, however, at a moment's notice, to abandon the horses and swim out independently. In the mean time the packers by shouts and kicks had urged their animals close to the shore, where they succeeded in dismounting, and then pulled the exhausted beasts out of the water almost by main strength. This done, they turned their attention to the pack horses, grasping the heads of all which came near, and guiding them down to a point where the bank was lower. Some of them struggled out unaided, and all were at last brought safely to the solid ground. But blankets, packs, and men were thoroughly soaked. "Speakin' of the bottom droppin' out," said Bud, with a dry smile,--the only dry thing which remained to him,--"this was one o' them cases." CHAPTER XL SUNDAY IN KLUKWAN The Salmon River was crossed on Sunday, the packers wishing to reach a good feeding-ground in the woods two miles below the Indian village of Klukwan, and not more than ten miles below their previous camping-place. This short march was accomplished before noon, and by dinner-time clothing and blankets had been dried before a huge fire. The boys thought a visit to Klukwan that afternoon would pass the time agreeably, so having obtained permission they set off through the woods toward the gravel flats. They had some doubts as to how they should cross the Chilkat River, but upon reaching the first channel of that deep stream they found themselves within hailing distance of the town, and easily attracted the attention of the red-skinned inhabitants, who promptly despatched two canoes in their direction. One was manned by a thin old native whom they had never seen before, while the navigator of the other proved to be a short, thick-set young Indian known as Tom Williams, who had been a guide to the Mysterious Thirty-six. Tom recognized the two lads also and appeared glad to see them. He was a convert of Haines Mission, and could talk fair English. "What will you charge to take us across and back?" asked David, presently.