And he did, with Bluff standing alongside; for once the official photographer demanded a pose, he was bound to get it, or throw up his job, for such was the law of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club.

Then they retraced their steps to the camp, Frank more than usually thoughtful, for anything in the shape of a mystery always set him to puzzling, and he more than once wondered whether they would ever learn just why those Crees stole the elk Bluff had downed after so much trouble.

"How many did there seem to be?" he asked Reddy, a little later.

"You mean of the thieving reds? I counted nine in all, four bucks, two squaws and three pappooses," replied the other.

"But if I understand rightly, these Indians never take their families when they go on the war-path. Is that so, Reddy?" Frank asked quickly.

"Say, get that notion out of your head right away. They ain't no Crees lookin' for trouble these days. My idea is just this: This is a family travelin' acrost country, for some reason or other. P'raps they got kicked out of their pesky old village. I've knowed such things to happen. Then they run short of meat, and didn't have guns or powder.

Under such conditions any redman would steal."

"Well, who could blame them, with women and children to feed? I guess you hit the nail on the head that time, Reddy. Glad to think that way, too. We can spare the elk, and it will spur Bluff on to other hunting deeds. He's had a taste now, and the fever will work on him."

Meanwhile, Jerry had started his fishing below the cataract. There were places just at the end of the foam-splashed outlet of the big pool where they had seen n.o.ble trout jumping, and it was here he dropped his flies.

After trying them a short time, and ascertaining that the trout paid little attention to the feathery lure, practical Jerry actually descended to the plebian angleworm, though he blushed when Frank came over to watch him.

"Got to have some for supper, you know," he remarked. "Now, if I was only doing this thing for the sport, nothing could tempt me to use live bait. I'm at it in the strict commercial sense this time."

"I understand; and Jerry, let me tell you, the sportsman who, when trout-hungry, refuses to go back to first principles, and use grubs and worms after the fish refuse the fly, is to be pitied, that's all,"

laughed Frank.

"Hey! That's a dandy, all right! See him jump, will you? Wow! He's all of two pounds, and as strong as an ox! I hope the leader holds. It's been frayed some by rubbing over rocks in the past. Please pick up that landing-net and attend to the beauty, if I can coax him close enough, Frank."

Frank landed not only that beauty, but several more, ere he wandered off to do something else. Jerry kept on fishing until he could not get another bite, by which time he had quite a nice string of the speckled beauties.

"Perhaps enough for a decent meal; though if Bluff develops his usual appet.i.te, the rest of us would go hungry. I wonder if a fellow mightn't have some luck up above the falls? Guess I'll make a shift to try," he said to himself.

The last view he had of the camp showed him Reddy amusing Bluff by making flying tosses of his rope and la.s.soing all sorts of objects, from the hat on the head of the admiring witness, to something tossed up in the air.

Jerry labored up the hillside until he finally came to where he could look down at the water as it shot over the edge. It fell with a great deal of noise, striking the rocks below in many places with terrific force.

"Ugh! It would just about bang a fellow to pieces to drop over there,"

he remarked, commencing to move upstream, looking for a promising place to begin his fishing operations.

Presently he discovered a log that jutted out over the swift current.

From this outlook he believed he could allow his bait to float down into an eddy that looked as though it might be the home of a big hermit trout.

Jerry tested the log as he cautiously advanced. He realized that he was taking some chances in creeping out to its furthest end, but so far as he could ascertain it seemed to be firm enough.

Straddling the log, he started to get his baited hook in motion. The wriggling worms sank a little in the swirl. At first, he was unable to just master the difficult problem of how to influence the bait to float into the eddy. Twice he failed to accomplish this, but studying the rushing stream a little, he fancied that by a certain throw in the start he could gain his end.

Sure enough, it worked, and like a charm. The baited hook was drawn back into the foam-flecked eddy, and he saw it vanish from view. Then came a most tremendous jerk, that almost caused him to lose his balance and the log to quiver, with sickening possibilities.

But Jerry glued his legs against the sides, just as he had been told to do with a refractory pony, and managed to recover his balance. The trout was a gamey one, and the swiftness of the current made the task of securing him doubly hard.

"I'll work, all right, for everything I hook here," panted Jerry, after ten minutes had pa.s.sed, and he tossed his exhausted prize over to the bank.

But he would not give up. Where one such fine, fat fellow held out there was certainly a chance for more, so he continued his fishing.

Unknown to him, Will had also wandered up that steep hillside, searching for a new view of the wonderful cataract. Pushing through the dense thickets, he chanced to catch a glimpse of the lone fisherman.

"Now, that's what I call a picturesque sight! Look at the chap perched out on the very end of that log, with the water rushing below like a mill-race! Here's where I get you, my duck. Fancy to what ends a fisherman will go in order to enjoy his favorite sport."

Will seemed to forget entirely that he was willing to undertake just as long a pilgrimage and buck up against as difficult problems simply to get one snapshot that appealed to his soul.

"There! He's got another fish on! My! How it pulls! I wouldn't be out on that log, doing such a job, for anything. But I just bet Jerry is as happy as a clam. He sets his teeth, and holds on as if he had a whale, and perhaps it is a big un! I must get him again in that position. Why, although he don't know it, he's just giving me the best thing of the day!"

Will rapidly adjusted his camera, and looked down to see that he had the proper focus before snapping the shutter. The light was good up there, and he believed he must have the greatest success with such a picture as that. Besides, it had the genuine article of life in it, which he always sought in taking his views.

Then he pressed his finger, in the belief that he was about to s.n.a.t.c.h a snapshot bound to give the four chums the keenest satisfaction in days to come.

"Oh!"

The startled exclamation broke involuntarily from the lips of Will even at the very second he took his picture, and he let his beloved camera fall to the ground, at the risk of doing it some material damage.

It was not this seeming mishap that had brought the startled cry from his lips, but the crash of sundering wood, and the sudden disappearance of the lone fisherman below the rim of the river bank; for the log had finally betrayed Jerry, and dropped him into that swirling, maddening current above the high falls!

CHAPTER XIII

AN INVADER IN CAMP

Will dashed madly toward the river bank. It happened that he was somewhat below the point where Jerry's mishap had come about. Hence, he was able to reach the edge of the stream in a dozen seconds.

Even that short time had been enough to sweep the imperiled lad past the place. Will was thrilled with horror to see his chum in the midst of the churning current, trying to cling to a slippery rock, from which insecure hold he was being gradually but surely sucked by the fierce power exerted by the rushing stream.

Never had the roar of the falls sounded more terrible to poor Will than when he saw Jerry suspended, as it were, above the great drop. Once he lost his hold, he must be swept irresistibly over the edge, down to those cruel rocks below.

Will would have foolishly attempted to reach his chum had he chanced to be opposite the place where Jerry hung on with the desperation of despair. As it was, he could do nothing, which was just as well, for there must only have been two of them given over to the river once he ventured into that mill-race.

"Help! Oh, help!" he shrieked.

The roar of the cataract must have m.u.f.fled his call, so that it might just as well have been a whisper.

Just as Will was about to give up in despair, and count Jerry as good as lost, he made a sudden discovery. Another figure had appeared on the bank, and just at a point opposite the rock to which Jerry clung.

"Reddy! Save him! save him!" cried Will, wringing his hands.

Then he became mute with suspense. The cowboy did not recklessly rush into the boiling flood, for he knew only too well that such a course could not help the imperiled one. Instead, Will saw him whirling his rope about his head with lightning-like haste.

His heart in his eyes, Will continued to stare, holding his very breath.

He saw the coils of rope fly out just as when Reddy was giving his exhibition in camp. Not far did they have to speed, for Jerry was close to the sh.o.r.e.

"Oh! what luck! He's done it! He's done it! Jerry has the rope now, and he is coming in, hand over hand! Bully! bully! bully!"