To the left, many miles from the river, but because of its hugeness seeming almost to border it, rose the highest peak in that part of the country. Its top was capped with eternal snow and framed in a wreath of clouds--a picture to make even the most indifferent heart beat faster. The sparkling water of the stream reflected the sun like a polished mirror. After half an hour of paddling, Roy stopped for a moment and shaded his eyes with his hand. “She curves around here some place, doesn’t she?” he asked. “I don’t exactly remember--it’s a long time since I’ve been down this far.” “If by ‘she’ you mean the river, it does,” Bug Eye grinned, turning around slightly. “It swings to the left, then it’s straight for a long stretch before the rough water starts. Golly, it’s almost smooth enough here to try my Fishmobile! Wish we could have brung it--I mean brought it.” Some one had lately placed into Bug Eye’s hands a copy of “Correct English as Used by Gentlemen,” and since then he had laboriously tried to pattern his speech after the forms advocated by the book. Thus far he had not had much success, most of the time being too lazy to retrace his words. “You know how long that Fishmobile would last?” Teddy laughed. “About five minutes--if it didn’t fall to pieces before then. Say, Pop, have you ever shot the rapids below here?” The veteran puncher nodded solemnly. Seated on the bottom of the canoe with his long legs curled uncomfortably about the bundle of blankets and his bald head exposed to the rays of the sun, Pop Burns presented a strange sight. A canoe is no place for a man who appears uneasy unless he’s straddling a bronco. “I bin down twice,” Pop replied. “Once we got spilled--see that scar?” He bent over, exposing a white line on the top of his head. “Where I hit a rock,” he explained laconically. “But we had a small boat then, and she wasn’t well balanced. With this thing, now, we got a good chance. She’s heavy, an’ we got lots of weight on the bottom. But even at that, it ain’t gonna be no picnic.” “Isn’t,” Bug Eye corrected. “We’ll make it though, Pop. We got to make it. Yore boss wants to get those cattle out quick. We can land an’ see can we scare up some broncs. Can’t do a thing on foot. How long you calcalate it’ll be before yore dad shows up, Roy?” “Well, we’ll probably hit Trummer’s range sometime to-morrow or the next day. Dad had a start on us of a day. That ought to bring him there soon after we arrive. The land route is much longer, on account of having to skirt the mountains. But dad’s a hard rider, and so are the men with him. I have a hunch they’ll make it almost as soon as we shall.” “You figuring on borrowing broncs from Jake Trummer?” Teddy asked.