The next morning, Mickey was in his front yard, packing some supplies into a backpack. He and Donald were going hiking. As he packed, Mortimer leaned against the fence.

"Well, ha-cha-cha," he said. "If it isn't good ol' Mickey Mouse."

"Huh?" Mickey asked, giving Mortimer a weird look.

"Yes sir, good ol' Mickey Mouse," Mortimer went on. "Everybody knows you, Mick, ol' buddy, ol' pal!"

"What are you talking about, Mortimer?" Mickey asked, eyeing his rival suspiciously.

"You know, Mickey!" Mortimer said, giving Mickey a smack on the back. "Mr. Nice Guy! The guy everybody knows and loves! The hero! Everybody's pal! Why, I bet you'd never hurt a fly! Yeah, you've got yourself quite a reputation, Mickey! Aren't you afraid of something . . . . happening to it?"

"Aw, what could happen, Mortimer? Why, everybody knows I wouldn't do anything rotten or cruel, or anything like that!"

"You never know, Mickster. You just never know."

And with that, Mortimer walked off, leaving Mickey looking confused. As he wondered what in the world Mortimer was up to, Donald came walking down the street, carrying his backpack.

"Hiya, Mickey!" he called out. "Are you ready?"

"Sure am, Donald!" Mickey shouted, swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. "Let's go!"

The two pals walked down the street, whistling, and headed for the park. Once they arrived, they headed along one of the hiking trails.

"Oooooohhhh . . . . ." Mickey sang. "A-hiking we will go . . . ."

"A-hiking we will go," Donald sang.

"Hi-ho the derry-oh, a hiking we will go!" they sang together. They continued singing this while they went down the trail.

"Great day for hiking, huh, pal?" Mickey asked.

"You said it, pal," Donald replied. "Next time, we oughta bring Goofy and the girls."

"Yeah, and we'll bring Goofy and the girls next time, too."

"That's what I said!"

"I know. I was only teasing you."

Donald began mumbling under his breath after that. He didn't like to be teased about the way he talked. He couldn't help it, after all.

"Aww, come on, Donald," Mickey said. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. I didn't mean anything by it. Let's get on with the hike."

"Oh all right," Donald said. "I'll let bygones be bygones . . . . . big ears."

Mickey decided to let that one go, and he and Donald continued their hike. They went down a path that led to a giant gorge overlooking a swiftly moving river. Immediately, Mickey and Donald stopped.

"Uh oh," Donald said. "I think this is the Wabash-Your-Head-In River, Mickey."

"Gosh," Mickey said, looking at the swiftly moving river. "The one that leads to the Doomsday Falls? The waterfall nobody's ever gone down and lived to tell about it?"

"Yeah . . . . how'd we end up here?"

"We'd better turn back!"

Donald agreed, and the two friends immediately turned around. However, they found themselves walking on a trail neither of them knew.

"Well, this is a fine predicament," Donald grumbled. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," Mickey said, pulling a map out of his backpack. He unfolded it, and began looking over it.

"Let's see here," he said. "We started here on Main Trail . . . . and here's the Wabash-Your-Head-In . . . . so we were somewhere around here . . . . . then we turned around . . . . . hmmm . . . . yep. I know exactly where we are now!"

"Where are we?" Donald asked.

"Lost."

"That's what I thought."

"I knew we should've taken that left turn at the Albuquerque Trail."

"Oh brother. Come on, let's go this way!"

Mickey followed Donald, even though he wasn't sure if it was such a good idea or not. He only did it because he didn't have any better ideas. They walked around for what seemed like hours, only to find themselves back at the gorge above the Wabash-Your-Head-In River.

"Aw, nuts!" Donald shouted.

"I don't know how we got turned around," Mickey said.

"Maybe the way back is on the other side of the gorge."

"But how are we gonna cross it, Donald?"

"Uuuummmm . . . . . ."

Donald looked around for a moment, and then saw a fallen tree nearby, that stretched from one edge of the gorge to the other.

"Over here, Mickey!" he called, and ran over toward the tree.

"I don't know, Donald," Mickey said, as Donald climbed onto the tree and began crossing. "That tree looks pretty old. We don't even know if it's safe or not!"

"Aw come on! It's perfectly safe!"

"Well . . . . all right."

Hesitantly, Mickey followed his pal onto the tree, and the two of them made their way across, as slowly as possible. Unfortunately, Mickey tripped over a knot in the tree, and fell directly into Donald.

"Wak!" Donald shouted, as he lost his balance, and fell off the tree. Thankfully, he managed to grab a branch of it.

"Donald!" Mickey shouted, nervously.

"Get me outta here!" Donald shouted.

"Hold on, Donald! I'll save you!"

Mickey took off his backpack, opened it, pulled some rope out of it, and lowered it down to Donald. Just as the duck grabbed it, a gust of wind blew. Mickey lost his grip on the rope, and Donald became airborne. Once the wind subsided, Donald plummeted right into the Wabash-Your-Head-In River, and was swept right into the rapids.

"Omigosh!" Mickey shouted. "Hang on, Donald!"

Without a second thought, Mickey dove off the tree, and right into the river. He began swimming after Donald, but it wasn't easy. Both he and Donald were being tossed about in the rapids, going under for a second or so, and surfacing again. Mickey managed to grab the end of the rope Donald was still holding and pulled the duck toward him.

"Don't worry, Donald!" the mouse shouted. "I've gotcha!"

"Just don't let go, Mickey!" Donald shouted, gripping the rope for dear life.

Mickey managed to find a nearby rock in the middle of the rapids, and swam over to them. Once he was on the rock, he pulled the rope toward him, while Donald, keeping his hands glued to the rope, kicked his legs in order to get to the rock. Once he was close enough, Mickey pulled him up.

"Thanks, Mickey," Donald said, breathlessly.

"Don't mention it, ol' pal," Mickey said, catching his breath as well. "Now all we have to do is figure out how to get out of here."

Before Mickey and Donald could do anything else, a gigantic splash of water knocked them both off the rock and back into the river, leading them closer to Doomsday Falls.

"Wak!" Donald shouted once he saw the falls in sight.

"Yow!" Mickey screamed, and both he and Donald began swimming in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, the rapids were stronger than they were, and they both went over the falls. On the way down, something swooped into the waterfall, and caught both of them before they could hit the jagged rocks at the bottom.

It seemed Donald and Mickey had been caught by a large, black bird-like creature, being ridden by a stranger wearing a black robe and face mask. The bird flipped Donald into the air, and it's rider caught him.

"Hey, what's the big idea?!" Donald shouted. "What's going on here?! Who are you, you big palooka?! Wait'll I get my hands on . . . ."

Before Donald could go on, the strange man held Donald's bill closed with one hand, while trying to restrain the short-tempered duck with his other hand. Then the man flew his bird away from the falls, and signaled it to drop the unconscious Mickey. Once the bird did so, he and the stranger flew away with Donald.