So Roger lay down to sleep and tucked himself in his sleeping bag with absolute happiness. The next day proved to the boy how right the chief had been. For the first forty miles of its passage the boy found the Cantwell River, into which they had run, to have a fair channel and good banks; and of course, at this season of the year it was full to overflowing, so that the only difficulty of its upper reaches, shoals, was set aside by the volume of water in the stream. That day's trip was rapid and easy. Camp was made that night beside the river, just where another tributary called the Yanert joins, leaping a twenty-foot fall just before reaching the main stream. The turbulent manner of the Yanert's union, however, was an augury of trouble. It seemed as though the larger river had been led into bad habits by the new arrival, for it became a wild scramble of water, rushing through the canyons and gorges of the Alaskan Range with terrifying speed. Two or three nasty rapids had been shot, in each of which Roger acquitted himself very creditably, but the water had grown rougher and harder to deal with at each successive step, so that when a short beach a few miles long closed in a harsh and ragged-edged canyon, Rivers called a halt and went forward to reconnoiter from the summit of the gorge whether it were safe for passage. Taking Roger and Magee with him, he followed the west bank of the river, sending Gersup, Bulson, and Harry, along the other bank to determine the possibility of the rapid below, and also to find out which was the better side for a portage, should that be deemed necessary. To Roger's uninitiated eye, the water below seemed a seething witches' caldron of confusion, but he could see that the chief did not regard it as being impossible. Suddenly the geologist turned to him: "Doughty," he said, "do you think you could run that rapid?" "If you told me to," answered the boy sturdily. "You mean that you would try to do it, whether you thought it possible or no, if I told you?" "No," said Roger, "that would be unreasonable. What I mean is that if you told me to go it would be possible, and if it is possible I am quite ready to try it at any time." The older man said no more, but tried to force his way along the dense growth by the gorge's edge. The underbrush was very thick, and if a portage was to be made on that side the road would have to be cut almost the entire distance. So the three turned back to the canoes and waited the return of the topographer. "Well?" inquired the chief as the party hove in view. "I shouldn't care to tackle it," said Gersup, "but Harry says he can take the boats through, but not loaded. They would have to go down light and the loads portaged. There is a fair carry on that side, but it's through small trees pretty close together, and the canoes would be awkward to take through. It's about a twelve-mile portage, too, as I should judge, before we can strike a place where the boats could land."