82 THE RED MOUNTAIN OF ALASKA. 
Bump ! went the raft on a huge boulder. Carlo 
became uneasy, and, getting out somehow from under 
the mosquito canopy, advanced gravely to the forward 
end of the raft. 
Thump ! went the raft again. Still it kept the main 
channel, and was not appreciably the worse for wear. 
A sort of steering oar had been arranged for this 
craft by the boys, and by a diligent use of this, as well 
as the push-poles, no great damage was done to the vessel 
or passengers. 
Presently the raft began to run more smoothly. She 
was passing swiftly down between the shadowy banks of 
the Pelly, picturesque and grand by daylight, but solemn 
and awe-inspiring in the dim, brown dusk of the northern 
night. Overhead, a thick bank of fog was stealing across 
the sky, concealing stars and moon. 
Still on the raft rushed. Strange shapes seemed to 
throng the banks. The boys thought they could see 
huge elks, gigantic serpents, even lions and tigers, along 
the shore. These were but the ghosts born of darkness 
and imagination. 
They hoped now that they were well beyond their 
unwelcome and unseen visitors of the night before. Cer- 
tainly no Indian war-party could have kept up with them 
had they started on shore at the same time. The only 
danger was that some roving band of Takheesh had been 
warned by that column of blue smoke that a raft was 
going down the rapids soon. 
