It was afternoon before the lads joined the drive below the falls. The raft had been partly broken up in running through, but it was soon restored again.

Some of the men had shot the falls on the timber, and it was exciting sport to watch them.

Hans Dunnerwust was delighted.

“Dot peen petter than blaying pall!” he cried. “Dot vos shust as easy as nefer vas! You could done dot myseluf!”

“Do you think you could ride through there on those logs?” asked Merriwell.

“It vas a kinch!” declared the Dutch lad. “I vos goin’ to peen a rifer trifer, und dose logs vill haf lots uf fun ridin’ me down der streams. Yaw!”

The wangan boat, used by the cook and cookee in distributing food to the drivers, was put into service in setting the boys on board the raft, which was a great floating mass of timber, securely bound together, with three little cribs, or huts, on it. The cook’s outfit had been taken ashore and carried round the falls, but was brought on board the raft again in quiet water below.

When at last they were floating down the river on the great raft, the boys set about taking life easy and enjoying themselves as they might.

There were many strange sights to see. Along the[191] shore men were fending off loose logs with pick poles. Occasionally a driver mounted a log, standing upon it as if his feet were planted on the solid earth, keeping his balance when it rolled by walking against the motion, and sailed away down the river as unconcerned as if he were on the deck of a four-masted schooner.

It was this sort of a spectacle that excited Hans Dunnerwust. The drivers did the trick so easily and gracefully that the Dutch boy began to feel certain it was not much of a job.

“Uf I don’t peen a rifer trifer pefore this trip is done mit me you vos a liar!” he cried. “I pet any vun uf dose logs can ride me!”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” grunted Bruce Browning, who was stretched on some hemlock boughs, making himself comfortable beneath the shade of a canvas awning. “That’s what I’d imagine would happen.”

“Hey?” squawked the Dutch boy. “Vot do I mean ven you said dot? You vill show me if I can’t ride britty queek.”

No one paid much attention to him then, but about an hour later, there was a sudden cry of astonishment, and Hodge jumped up, pointing and shouting.

“Look there! The chump will be drowned!”

All looked in the direction indicated, and they were amazed to see Hans, with a pick pole in his hands, pushing off from the raft on a log that had floated up against it.

The fat Dutch lad was balancing himself on the log with some difficulty, but it was plain he had resolved to ride a log, for he did not hesitate about leaving the raft.

[192]

Frank started to shout to him, but suddenly realized that it might attract Hans’ attention and cause him to lose his balance, so he refrained.

“He’ll be in the water in a minute,” said Merriwell. “We must get into the wangan and pick him up.”

Then Frank, Jack and Bart hurried to man the boat and shove off. As the boat was on the wrong side of the raft, they used every exertion.

The success of the Dutch boy at the start intoxicated him.

“Who toldt you I vasn’t a rifer trifer!” he crowed to himself. &l............