ast the tall yellow sand-hills
with their fringe of crested trees on the left; and the wide plain on
the right. Only Bobby remarked the deep bayou in the bosom of the hills
where dreamed in the peace and mystery of an honourable old age the
hulks of a dozen vessels rotting in the sun. The shipyards and the mills
the other side the drawbridge nobody saw, for at that time even Bobby
was absorbed in his new acquaintance.

But beyond that, the boy having offered and the girl received the first
burst of confidence, the children turned their attention to things
passing. They saw the wide marshes of rushes and cat-tails, with their
bayous and channels wherein swam the white-billed mud-hens; and the long
booms to the left filled with brown logs. From this level, low to the
water, these things seemed to them wonderful and vast. After a little
the _Robert O_ whistled again. They passed the swing at the upper end of
the booms. Old man North stood, in the doorway of his hut, smoking his
short black pipe upside down. Bobby was astonished to see how different
the hut looked from this point of view. He would hardly have recognized
it were it not for the swing-tender, who waved his pipe at Bobby when
the tug passed.

"I know him," said Bobby proudly to Celia.

The _Robert O_ swept through, and the long slanting waves, and the round
following waves sucked up and down among the piles.

"Now we're going around the Bend!" cried Bobby excitedly. "I never been
around the Bend!"

But Celia suddenly arose.

"I'm going back to mamma and the rest," she announced.

"Why?" asked Bobby astonished. "Come on; stay here and see what there is
around the Bend."

Celia stood on one foot, her black eyes wide and speculative, staring
past Bobby into some fair realm of feminine caprice. She shook her head,
slowly, so that first a curl on one side, then on the other fell across
her eyes. After a long deliberate moment she turned and went forward,
followed at a distance by the grieved and puzzled Bobby. In the bow she
sidled up to her mother, against whom she leaned lightly, her head on
one side, her eyes dreamy, her hand slipped into one of her mother's
open palms. Bobby, shut out, made his way to the prow, where he rested
his chin on the rail, and rather glumly contemplated the surprises of
"around the Bend."

But over the prow the little boy was the first--except for Captain
Marsh--to see from afar the landing, first as a glimmering shadow under