hail. "Thaddeus!" roared the Professor. Still no answer.

Down the stream a short distance they could hear the water roaring
over the rocks, from where it dropped some twenty feet and continued
on its course. The falls there were known as Buttermilk Falls,
because of the churning the water received in its lively drop, and
more than one mountaineer had been swept over them to his death in
times of high water. Between the camp and these falls there was a
sharp bend in the river, and ere the boys had recovered from their
surprise, their companions undoubtedly had been swept around the
bend and on beyond their sight.

"Do--do you--do you think----" stammered Walter.

"They have gone down stream," answered the Professor shortly. "Run
for it, boys! Run as you never ran before!"

Ned dived for the thicket where the ponies were tethered. It was the
work of a moment only to release Bad-eye. Without waiting to saddle
him, Ned threw himself upon the surprised animal's back, and with a
wild yell sent the broncho plunging through the camp.

He was nearly unseated when Bad-eye suddenly veered to avoid
stepping into the camp-fire, which Ned Rector in his haste had
forgotten.

The lad gripped the pony's mane and hung on desperately until he
finally succeeded in righting himself, all the while kicking the
pony's sides with his bare feet to urge him on faster.