r, and
with John Darknight for a guide, he had embarked upon the perilous
attempt of reaching Fort Defiance with his loved ones.

"Of course we cannot stem the rapids," the guide said in response to a
question from young Darling. "Our portage must now begin."

As he spoke the boat began to approach the left bank of the stream.

"We are nearing the wrong bank," said Parton.

"Of course we are," the settler replied, noticing the boat's course, and
he turned upon the guide:

"What does this mean?" he demanded, with his usual brusqueness.

"Nothing dangerous, sir. You see that we can best journey up the left
bank of the river. The Indians are massing in the south."

"But I have been advised by the scouts of Mad Anthony to go up the right
bank."

"You have?"

"Yes, sir. If I understand you, you have not been in these parts for a
month, while my informants and advisers were here but a week since."

The guide did not reply for a minute, during which the boat continued
toward the dusky shore, for his hand was upon the rudder.

"Pardon me, John," the settler said; "but I feel constrained to listen
to the scouts, one of whom was William Wells himself."

"Wells, eh?" said Darknight, with a sneer. "Between you and I,
Merriweather, I would not trust that Injun-bred fellow farther than the
length of my nose."

"I consider him a true man," said Kate, the daughter, who had overheard
the latter part of the conversation between her father and the guide.

"He doesn't look like a rogue, and I am sure that he would not advise us
wrongly on purpose."

John Darknight did not reply to the girl's remarks; but relapsed into
sullenness, and doggedly turned the prow of the boat to the other shore.

"What do you think now?" whispered George Darling in the settler's ear.

"I really do not know, George," was the reply, as an expression of fear
settled over the father's face. "I trust in God; but we are on dangerous
water. Do not be so suspicious, boy, for you make me tremble for the
safety of my dear ones."

No further words were interchanged by uncle and nephew, and the boat
touched the ghostly shore amid deep stillness of voice and tongue.

But the ceaseless song of the wild rapids fell upon the voyagers' ears,
and the first stars were burnishing the dancing waves with silver.

The debarkation took place at once, and the craft was drawn from the
water and prepared for the sleeping place of the settler's family. A day
of hard