"I fear not."

"Way we go den, no can tink."

"Nor can I think either, Wah."

"If no can lib, den no coz wy die hungly," said Wah Shin, and with this belief strong in his mind, he re-entered the cave and set about getting breakfast with his usual indifference to the state of the weather.

At any other time the sight of the flood and the danger of its coming higher would have alarmed Sam greatly, but though he could not ignore the danger that threatened him now, his own situation was lost sight of as he thought of his father's position.

He was still standing looking at the rushing flood, as if fascinated by its power and volume, when Ike and Ulna came out and joined him.

"Foh ma.s.sy's sake!" exclaimed Ike, when he caught sight of the water.

"Ain't she jest a bilein' up."

"Do you think the water will rise higher?" asked Sam as he turned to Ulna, and tried to find some comfort in his calm, impa.s.sive face.

Before replying Ulna looked up at the sky for some seconds, then said:

"The storm is not half over."

"And while it lasts the water will go on rising?"

"Yes, Sam, that is what we must expect."

"Then it will flood the cave?"

"It will surely do that."

"And drive us out?"

"Yes, Sam, if we don't want to drown there."

"Then we must try to leave?"

"Yes, we must try to leave," echoed Ulna.

"But how can we get away?"

"Ah," said Ulna, with something like a sigh, "I cannot now think of how that's to be done."

"If so be we was all birds, we could fly," said Ike, very solemnly, "it'd come in mighty handy-like jest 'bout dis time."

Sam now realized that he must think and act for his companions as well as for himself.

His was a brave, st.u.r.dy, self-reliant nature, that grows stronger and stronger in the face of increasing trials and responsibilities.

"Let us go in out of the rain and think," he said, while he turned and nervously stroked his forehead.

When they went back to the cave they found that Wah Shin had a good breakfast ready, and was still busy cooking more food.

When asked by Sam why he was doing this, he said, as if it were a matter of course.

"Bime by, watel him come in, puttee out file; file him go out, no can cookee; no got tings cookee, no can eat; no eatee den allee mus' die."

"Well, Wah Shin," said Sam with a grim smile, "if there is any hope in cooking, keep at it while the food lasts."

Despite their troubles and the dangers that cut them off from the world and threatened their lives, all, Maj included, complimented Wah Shin's efforts in their behalf by partaking of a hearty breakfast.

During the meal Sam was unusually silent; it was evident he was thinking very hard, and the others did not attempt to disturb his deliberations till he had risen from his seat, then Ulna asked:

"Have you thought out a way to get across the canon, Sam?"

"I have thought out a way of trying it," he answered.

"How?"

"On a raft."

"But we have no raft."

"Then we must make one."

"Where is the timber?"

"There is some here in the form of slabs and firewood, and there is plenty whirling down with the flood. You can handle a lariat, Ulna?"

"I think I can," was the response.

"Then get a rope, we have a lot here in the cave; make a noose and secure all the long pieces of timber you can. The water is nearly up to the plateau, and Ike will help you pull them out."

"An' watee can me do?" asked Wah Shin.

"Keep right on cooking, for if we cannot cross the flood on the raft, we'll be swept into the great canon of the Colorado, and there we shall need all the food we can take along."

The others set to work with a will, but even Ulna, who was born out in that land, only faintly comprehended the import of what Sam said about the great canon.

Indeed, Sam himself had only a vague notion of what was meant by the now famous geographical name.

He knew the history and geography of his own country very well, as every well-trained youth should, and he was, therefore, aware that the great Colorado of the West was formed by the junction of two important rivers, the Green and the Grand; he was further aware that the water roaring outside entered the latter river about twenty-five miles below the camp.

Had these been ordinary rivers there would be good reason to dread venturing out on their currents at flood time, even in a good boat; but the Green and the Grand for many score miles above their junction flowed through immense rocky defiles or canons, and they united in one mighty canon, through which flowed for fully four hundred miles the waters of the Colorado on their way to the Gulf of California.

Sam had talked a great deal about this wonderful chasm with Hank Tims, and that most reliable authority had a.s.sured him that only two parties had ever attempted to go through the great canon and returned to tell of their perilous adventures and hair-breadth escapes.

Hank claimed to have stood on a cliff that rose straight up from the edge of the Colorado at one point, and looked down a sheer perpendicular depth of over seven thousand feet, the very thought of which is enough to make an ordinary head giddy.

But Sam helped to make a craft that would enable them to cross the two hundred feet that separated them from the opposite bank, and this accomplished in safety, they could make their way on foot to Hurley's Gulch, where he knew his father was eagerly awaiting his coming.

He secured all the gold dust about his own person, and then made up bundles of blankets, provisions and ammunition that might be of use if they did not succeed in making a crossing.