in an appalling
confusion. Jean felt that she could endure the sight no longer. Her
body trembled, and her eyes ached. She was about to go back to Mammy,
when her father laid his hand upon her shoulder.

"What is that out there?" he asked. "Ah, it's gone now. It seemed to
me like a boat. There it is again."

Jean looked and for a few seconds was enabled to catch a glimpse of a
craft of some kind coming to them straight from the island.

"It is a canoe, daddy, and I can see some one paddling. Who can it be
on the river in such a storm as this?"

And just then the rain swept down, forcing them to retreat a few steps
within the cabin. But still they peered forth, and with fast-beating
hearts watched the approaching voyager. Whenever a glimmering flash
revealed the canoe, it resembled a mystic bark riding through the
storm, encircled with a living fire. So weird and mysterious did it
seem that Jean caught her father impulsively by the arm, while a slight
cry of awe escaped her lips.

"It isn't natural, daddy," she whispered. "It's uncanny. Do you
suppose it's a spirit?"

"No, no, dear. It's an Indian, no doubt. Look, he has stopped
paddling now, and is about to land."

Darkness again intervened, and the next flash revealed a tall form
stepping upon the shore as blackness once more enshrouded him. The
next glimpse showed him coming toward the cabin, carrying a bundle in
his arms. In another minute he was at the door, an Indian of
magnificent physique, clad in buckskins, with a squirrel-skin cap upon
his head. He smiled as he looked upon the astonished ones before him.
Then he held out the bundle toward the girl.

"White woman tak' babby, eh?" he asked,

But Jean hesitated, and drew back a little. This seemed to surprise
the Indian.

"Babby no hurt white woman," he explained. "Babby velly leetle. Babby
no home, no mamma."

No longer could Jean resist such an appeal, so stepping forward, she
took the bundle in her arms. Awkwardly she held it, uncertain what to
do. Then Old Mammy came to her aid, and relieved her of her burden.

"Why, chile, yo' doan know how to hol' a baby," she reproached. "Yo'
hol' it upside-down. Yo' nebber had 'sperience wif babies. Dis o'
woman'll show yo' how."

Seating herself upon a bench, she removed the blanket with which the
child was enwrapped. Jean dropped upon her knees by her side, and when
a little dusky face was exposed to view, she gave a cry of del