ng stream of which the Yuga was a tributary, lay an Indian
village--and if only she could reach it she might enlist the aid of the
natives and make a safe return, by a long, roundabout route, to her
father's arms. The plan meant deliverance from Ben and the defeat of all
his schemes of vengeance,--perhaps the salvation of her father and his
subordinates.
She realized perfectly the reality of her father's danger. She had read
the iron resolve in Ben's face. She knew that if she failed to make an
immediate escape from him, all his dreadful plans were likely to
succeed: his enemies would follow him into the unexplored mazes of Back
There to effect her rescue and fall helpless in his trap. What quality
of mercy he would extend to them then she could readily guess.
Just to get down to the Indian village: this was her whole problem. But
it was Ben's plan to land and enter the interior somewhere in the vast
wilderness between, from which escape could not be made until the flood
waters of fall. The way would remain open but a few hours more, due to
the simple fact that the waters were steadily falling and the
river-bottom crags, forming impassable barriers at some points, would be
exposed. _If she made her escape at all it must be soon._
Yet she could not attempt it at night. She could not see to guide the
canoe while the darkness lay over the river. Just one further chance
remained--to depart in the first gray of dawn.
She fell into troubled sleep, but true to her resolution, wakened when
the first ribbon of light stretched along the eastern horizon. She sat
up, laying the blankets back with infinite care. This was her chance:
Ben still lay asleep.
Just to steal down to the water's edge, push off the canoe, and trust
her life to the doubtful mercy of the river. The morning soon would
break; if she could avoid the first few crags, she had every chance to
guide her craft through to deliverance and safety. By no conceivable
chance could Ben follow her. He would be left in the shadow of the
gorge, a prisoner without hope or prayer of deliverance. There was no
crossing the cliffs that lifted so stern and gray just behind. Before he
could build any kind of a craft with axe and fire, the waters would fall
to a death level, beyond any hope of carrying him to safety. The tables
would be turned; he would be left as helpless to follow her as Neilson
had been to follow him.
The plan meant deliverance for her; but surely it mea
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