hat eddied about in tiny whirlpools, deadly
to any canoe in summer, and still more deadly in winter, for the ice
never formed here as in the rest of the river. Only a thin, deceptive
coating ever bridged that death hole, and the man who mistook it for
solid ice would never live to cross that river again. So, on the high
bank above this death trap old Andy lighted his lantern, year in and
year out. Sometimes he was accompanied by his old grey horse, who
followed him about like a dog. Sometimes little Jacky Moran, his young
neighbor, went to help him on very stormy or windy nights. Sometimes
both Jacky and the horse would go, and as a reward for his assistance
old Andy would always lift the boy to the grey's back and let him ride
home. Then one wet spring old Andy got rheumatism in his poor, twisted
legs, and the first night he was unable to leave his shanty Jacky came
whistling in at nightfall and offered to take the lantern up stream
alone. Andy consented gratefully, and, with the horse at his heels,
Jacky set out for the bank above the dangerous spot.

"I believe, old Grey, it's the lantern you love as much as you love
Andy," laughed the boy as he struck a match and sheltered its flame from
the wind. "Here you are following me and the lantern just as if you
belonged to us, or as if Andy were here. How's that?" But the old grey
only stood watching the lamp-lighting. His long, pathetic face was very
expressive, but, try as he would, he could not speak and tell the boy
that he had learned to love him as well as Andy. So he only put his soft
nose down to Jacky's shoulder, and in his own silent way coaxed the boy
to mount and ride home, which Jacky promptly did, bursting into the old
Frenchman's shanty with the news that the grey had followed the lantern.

"Don't you believe it, Jacky," chuckled Andy. "The grey loves the
lantern, I know, but it's you he's followed. You see that horse knows
a lot, and he knows that his old master is never likely to light that
lantern again, and he wants you for his master now."

"Well, he may have me," smiled the boy. "We'll just light up together
after this." Which they certainly did, for that was the beginning of
the end. Andy could never hobble much further than his own door, and
Jacky took upon his young shoulders the duties of both lamp-lighting
and feeding and caring for his now constant companion, the grey.

"I see your Jacky is helping old Andy since he's been laid up," said
Alick