As the river continued swift and smooth, with no signs of danger ahead, all went to sleep except Canaris and the colonel, who were intrusted with the care of the raft. Several hours later they were relieved by Chutney and Forbes, and thus all secured a fair night's rest. A scanty share of food was doled out for breakfast, as the supply was getting very low. Some time afterward a faint roar was heard in the distance, and almost before they could prepare for danger a violent cross current struck the raft, tossing it about most perilously, and they caught a glimpse of a furious body of water issuing from a narrow passageway. "That was the other channel, the one we should have taken in the first place," exclaimed Guy. "We are now on the main river again." "They travel separately for quite a distance," remarked the colonel. "The lake must be seventy or eighty miles in our rear. We are making splendid time." Little did they imagine at that moment how great a change was close at hand. The river glided smoothly between its massive walls with scarce a murmur. An hour later Forbes held up a warning finger. An ominous sound was heard far below that increased in volume with every second. "Cling to the raft for your lives," shouted Chutney. The first words were audible; the last were drowned in the mighty roar of the water, so sudden was its approach. By the torchlight they saw for an instant the billows of tossing spray. Then the raft plunged madly like a thing of life, a great wave broke over it with stunning force, and all was darkness. None could remember clearly what happened after that. Plunging over the crests of enormous waves, whirling round and round in dizzy revolutions, drenched by icy showers of spray, grinding and crashing on countless rocks, the raft went on its way through that awful stretch of rapids, holding together by nothing short of a miracle. A full hour it lasted, though it must have seemed like days to the wretched voyagers. Then the wild pitching and tossing subsided, the crash of the furious water grew fainter, and all was calm and peaceful as before. CHAPTER XXXIV. MORE MISERY. Perceiving that the danger was over, Guy ventured to sit up. His clothes were dripping wet, but fortunately he kept his matches in a tin box, and striking one cautiously, he lit a torch which had been lying partly under his body, and was not too damp to burn. His companions were still sprawled out on the raft, holding to the logs with all their strength. When Guy assured them that all danger was past they sat up, looking very pale and dazed. "That was awful," said the colonel. "It's a miracle the raft lived through such a ride." "The canoe is gone," exclaimed Forbes. "Washed clear off the deck, and---- Why, hello, what's the matter, Chutney?" Guy was looking about the raft with a ghastly and fear-stricken countenance, holding the torch over his head.