he leaned weakly against a tree for support as the true extent of
the crushing disaster that had occurred was borne in on him.

The canoes were gone!

The cunning rascal, Diego, had devised his plan well.

The painters of all the craft had been cut, and by this time they
were doubtless miles down the stream.




CHAPTER VIII

A BATTLE IN THE AIR

The consternation with which the news of the loss of the canoes was
received by the young adventurers may be imagined. It meant that
they were cut off from communication with the coast entirely unless
some unforeseen circumstances arose. But in spite of the oppression
that naturally affected them at the first news of their serious loss,
Frank's confident manner had its effect in restoring some sort of
hope. Like the born leader that he was, Frank, the minute he
recovered from the first effects of his bitter dismay, set about
cheering up the others.

"We've always got the Golden Eagle," he comforted, "and anyway it's
likely if no one stops them, that some at least of the canoes will
drift down the river to the coast. M. Desplaines will no doubt be