"Grab my horse's tail, or get hold of the stirrup!" yelled Gabe. "I'm going to try and turn him toward sh.o.r.e!"

The advice came just in time. Jed, who was slipping and stumbling along, with the water up to his shoulders, managed to grasp the left stirrup leather.

"Give me your gun!" called the miner, and the boy held it up.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Give me your gun!" called the miner]

Then, fortunately, Gabe's horse managed to get a footing on a comparatively smooth place, where the river was not so deep. The miner held the steed there a moment, to give Jed a chance to get a better hold.

"I'm going to head him toward the sh.o.r.e," the old miner said, after a moment's pause. "Hold on tight now. It may be deeper as we go to the side."

It was, and Jed found himself swept off his feet in an instant. However, Gabe's horse was a strong swimmer, and managed to make some headway, diagonally against the current. It was a hard struggle against the powerful stream, but at length the steed managed to get beyond the pull of the rapids, and into a shallow place close to sh.o.r.e.

"I can stand up, now," said Jed, as he let his feet down, and touched bottom. "I'm all right. Go ahead!"

An instant later Gabe's horse scrambled up the bank, and the boy followed.

"I guess my horse is gone!" he cried. The loss was a serious one to him, for all his possessions were on the saddle, in the pack.

"Maybe he'll go ash.o.r.e lower down," said Gabe. "We'll have to look.

h.e.l.lo!" he shouted, wishing to attract the attention of the others. Back came a yell.

"That's Will's voice," declared Jed. "They're coming down this way."

So it proved, and a little while later the two miners, and Will, having safely crossed the stream, joined Gabe and Jed. They were all more or less wet, but none had had the misfortune that attended Jed.

"We'll have a look for your horse," said the old miner to Jed. "Will, suppose you build a fire, and Mr. Curtin and Mr. Hurd will help make camp. Jed and I will see if we can't find that contrary nag. If he'd been content to swim straight across, instead of wanting to shoot the rapids, we'd have been all right."

"Suppose he's on the other side of the river?" suggested Will.

"Hold on!" exclaimed Jed with a laugh. "Don't go to suggesting such things now, Will. I've had trouble enough."

In the darkness Jed and the miner set off down the stream. It broadened out as it flowed on, the banks stretching away into level plains.

"There's something moving, straight ahead!" exclaimed the boy, pointing to where a darker blotch of blackness was visible in the night.

"Yes, and it's a horse grazing. I hope it's yours," spoke Gabe.

"I can't see any pack on its back," went on Jed, as they came nearer.

"Must be a horse from some camp then."

They came nearer. The horse ceased grazing and looked at them curiously.

"Hey, Pete!" called Jed, for he had been riding the old cultivator horse that once ran away. At the sound of his voice the animal whinnied.

"That's Pete, but where's the pack?" inquired Jed. "I hope it didn't get lost in the river."

"No, it's there, but it's slipped around on his side," replied Gabe, as he came closer and saw what had happened. The saddle girths had slipped, and the pack, though soaking wet, was intact. Pete allowed himself to be caught without difficulty. Probably he had had enough of adventures for one night. He was led back to the camp, where a big fire was burning.

Here the gold hunters dried themselves, and were soon partaking of a bountiful meal.

"This beats farming all to pieces!" declared Jed, with his mouth half full of some broiled elk meat.

"Even getting into the rapids?" asked his brother.

"Sure. After the first scare was over, it was like being back in the old swimming hole at our creek. The water was nice and warm."

"Yes, it's quite hot to-night," observed Mr. Hurd. "I shouldn't be surprised if we got a thunder storm."

"Then we'd better rig up some sort of a shelter," advised Gabe.

This was done, a lean-to being built with branches, and their rubber blankets spread on top, and well fastened down. Jed's pack had been opened out to dry, and when the horses had been safely tethered, and the camp made as snug as possible for the night, the travelers stretched out to sleep, tired out with the day's travel.

It was hot, entirely too hot for that time of year, and it was almost stifling under the improvised shelter. Still, after vainly wishing it would cool off, Jed and Will, with their older companions, fell asleep.

Jed had a vivid dream that night. He thought he was again in the rapids, and that his horse was pulling him into a deep hole of the stream. So vivid was it that he awoke with a start, to find himself in water, while something seemed wrapped about his neck, dragging him forward.

"What's the matter?" he cried.

"Fierce storm!" replied Gabe. "Our lean-to has blown away, and it's raining cats and dogs!"

An instant later there came an intensely bright flash of lightning, and a peal of thunder that seemed to shake the ground.

CHAPTER XII

AT THE GOLD FIELDS

Confusion reigned in the camp. The storm had come up with such suddenness that no one had been aware of it. Every one had been sleeping soundly, after a hard day, and the first intimation of the outburst of the elements was when the deluge of rain came, and the lean-to was blown over.

"Somebody catch me!" cried Jed, who, wrapped up as he was, in several rubber blankets, was being blown along like a ship under sail.

Will grabbed his brother, and helped to unwrap the coverings. While he was doing this the lightning seemed to be constant, and the roar of thunder was like the firing of heavy guns.

"Whew! This is fierce!" cried Jed, when he got his breath. The horses were huddled together, trying to find some shelter from the pelting rain beneath the trees.

"Fierce?" repeated old Gabe. "How about farming now? This rain beats the one when the cow was killed."

"That's right!" exclaimed Will. "Can't we get under some shelter?"

Hardly had he spoken when, with a terrific crash, lightning struck a tree not far away. The shock stunned the travelers for a few seconds.

"We're safer in the open," said Mr. Hurd. "We'd better get out of this grove," and he moved out of the shelter of the clump of trees where the camp had been pitched.

The rain then seemed to come down harder than ever. It wet them through, and the rubber blankets, which they grabbed up from the wreck of the lean-to, afforded small protection from the pelting downpour.