"Suppose we make a fire, Harry?" suggested Ben; and it would certainly have been a great luxury to one in his damp condition. "No; it will betray us," replied Harry, with alarm. "Humph! It is easy enough for you to talk, who are warm and dry," growled Ben. "I am going to have a fire, anyhow." In vain Harry protested. Ben had some matches in the boat, and in a few minutes a cheerful fire blazed in the forest. As the leader of the enterprise felt its glowing warmth his temper was sensibly impressed, and he even had the hardihood to laugh at his late misfortune. But Harry did not care just then whether his companion was pleasant or sour, for he had stretched himself on his bed of leaves, and was in a fair way to forget the trials and hardships of the voyage in the deep sleep which makes it "all night" with a tired boy. After Ben was thoroughly dried and warmed, he placed himself by the side of his fellow-voyager, and both journeyed together through the quiet shades of dreamland, leaving no wakeful eye to watch over the interests of the expedition while they slumbered. CHAPTER V IN WHICH HARRY FIGHTS A HARD BATTLE, AND IS DEFEATED The sun was high in the heavens when the tired boatmen awoke. Unaccustomed as they were to fatigue and late hours, they had been completely overcome by the exertion and exposure of the previous night. Harry was the first to recover his lost senses; and when he opened his eyes, everything looked odd and strange to him. It was not the rough, but neat and comfortable little room in the poorhouse which greeted his dawning consciousness; it was the old forest and the dashing river. He did not feel quite at home; the affair had been divested of its air of romance, and he felt more like a runaway boy than the hero of a fairy tale. "Hallo, Ben!" shouted he, to his sleeping companion. Ben growled once, and then rolled over, as if angry at being disturbed. "Ben! We shall be caught if you don't wake up. There, the clock is striking eight!" and to give Ben a better idea of where he was, he administered a smart kick in the region of the ribs. "What are you about?" snarled Ben, springing to his feet with clinched fists. "Time we were moving. Don't you see how high the sun is? The clock has just struck eight." "No matter for that. We are just as safe here as anywhere else. You kick me again, and see where you will be!" "Come, come, Ben; don't get mad." "Don't kick me, then." "What are you going to do now?" "That's my business. You do what I tell you, that's all you have to do with it," replied Ben, imperiously, as he walked to the bank of the river to survey the difficulties of the navigation. "_Is_ it?" asked Harry, not particularly pleased with this interpretation of their relations. "You better believe it is." "I don't believe anything of the kind. I ain't your nigger, anyhow!" added Harry, with spirit. "I'll bet you are." "I'll bet I ain't." "What are you going to do about it?"