"Just below where you see that projection of rock that looks like an Indian's nose. That's the rock that I tumbled down after the rope broke with me. I am black and blue yet. Don't think there's a spot on the rock that I didn't hit on my way down. My, I got a b.u.mp!"

"Are the things damaged?" asked Ned solicitously.

"No, nothing to speak of. I guess I did the most damage when I helped myself last night," laughed Tad.

Tad, after finishing his meal, had carefully packed the stuff together, and they now found it all in excellent condition. The heavy canvas had protected the food and dishes in the dizzy fall, though some of the cans had been considerably flattened.

"What do you say to having a real breakfast down here?" suggested Walter.

"Yes, I'm hungry," urged Chunky.

"Oh, you'll get over that," retorted Ned.

"An excellent idea, but what are you going to do for a fire?" asked Professor Zepplin.

They had not thought of that before.

"That's so. There is no wood down here at all," said Tad. "But, wait a minute. I know where there are some dead brush sticks a little way from here. Come on, some of you fellows, and we'll see what we can do."

When they returned each had his arms full of brush and vines, all of which they dumped in a heap on the edge of the rapids.

"It doesn't look very promising," said the Professor, with a doubtful shake of his head.

"No, I guess it will be a quick fire," answered Tad. "Ned, you get the coffee ready and the other things so we can put them on the fire the moment we get it started. I'll have the pile ready by the time you are."

With considerable skill the lad arranged the heap, placing the dead leaves and the driest of the sticks at the bottom. On top he placed a ma.s.s of half green stuff, packing the whole down by throwing himself on the pile, after which he rounded it up in a mound shape, with a circle of stones in the middle.

The fire blazed up encouragingly, and Ned, getting water from the rapids for the coffee, put the pot quickly into the ring of stones.

"Something's going to happen in about a minute," announced Chunky, with an air of great wisdom. He had been watching the preparations with hands thrust deeply into his pockets.

"What's going to happen?" demanded Ned, turning on him sharply.

Chunky, instead of replying, leaned back against the rocks and began to whistle. In a moment the disaster that he had foreseen was upon them.

The flimsy pile of brush and vines, after the fire had burned away its foundations, gave way beneath the weight of the stones. Coffee pot, coffee and stones went down with a crash and a clatter.

"Save the coffee pot!" shouted Ned, giving Chunky a push.

"Save it yourself. I'm not the cook," answered the fat boy, who chanced to be nearest to the fire. "I told you something was going to happen."

In the meantime Tad Butler had sprung to the rescue. With one well-directed kick he had scattered the brush and rescued the coffee pot before serious damage had been done to it.

Rushing to the river, he scooped up a fresh supply of water, planting the pot in the center of the fire and heaping the burning stuff about it.

"We'll have some coffee after all," he glowed. "I don't think Ned is much of a cook, do you, Chunky?"

"'Bout as good as you are at making fires to cook by, I guess,"

mumbled Chunky.

Tad laughed with them at his own expense.

The water was soon boiling, however, and with the canned stuff laid on the canvas which had been spread out close to the water, the jolly party shortly after that were able to sit down to breakfast.

"Two lumps of sugar I believe you take, Professor?" questioned Ned politely, poising a handful of lumps over the Professor's cup.

"Give me four," interjected Chunky.

"You take yours clear this morning," retorted Ned.

"I got the condensed milk, anyway," jeered Chunky. "No sugar for me, no condensed milk for you," and he planted the can firmly between his feet, which were curled up half under him.

"Oh, give him the sugar. I have to take my coffee half milk," begged Walter.

"All right, hand over the condensed milk then. I'll give you two lumps," said Ned.

"Three," replied Chunky, firmly, making no move to hand over the milk.

Ned let the lumps drop into his companion's cup, but from such a height that Chunky had to dodge as the coffee flew up.

He wiped a few drops of the coffee from his face, deliberately filled his cup to overflowing with milk, then handed the can to Walter.

"I guess Chunky doesn't need any of our help. He is pretty well able to take care of himself," laughed Tad.

"Delicious," breathed the Professor, sampling his cup of steaming liquid.

"Who, Chunky?" asked Ned quizzically.

"Certainly not the coffee," replied the Professor in a tone of reproof.

The meal was finished with many a jest and the pack divided up into bundles so that each should have his share to carry, after which the lads took up their return tramp.

They arrived at the mountain trail shortly before noon.

"Where's the guide?" asked Tad, glancing about.

"Probably asleep somewhere," replied Ned. "He's almost as big a sleepy head as Chunky."

"He is not here, Ned."

"Most unreliable guide we've had. I shall dismiss him immediately upon our arrival at the Red Star Mine," decided the Professor. "You are sure he is nowhere about, Tad?"

"You can see. He's not here. I hope he has left the rope. I'll climb up there and find out. No, he has taken it with him, evidently."

"Here's the rope," called Stacy, hauling it from a clump of bushes where it had evidently been dropped.

"Coil it and cast it up here," directed Tad.

This done, he began hauling up the bundles that they made fast to it below. Finally, this was completed without accident. All hands took up their packages from that point and started along the winding trail that led up the mountain side.