oming up, thunder
was growling afar, and clouds fast gathering in the sky.

The men had heard me talking the day before as to how storms were formed
in circles, and it had deeply impressed them. When Goshorn asked them
what we had better do, they said, "Leave it all to Mr. Leland; he knows
everything." I looked at the moon and saw that the clouds were not
driving dead against it, but _around_ while closing in, and I know not by
what strange inspiration I added, "You will have just time to clear King
Rock!"

It was still far away. I laid down my paddle and drew my blanket round
me, and smoked to the storm, and sang incantations to myself. It was a
fearful trial, actually risking death, but I felt no fear--only a dull
confidence in fate. Closer grew the clouds--darker the sky--when during
the very last second of light King Rock came in sight. Goshorn was ready
with his bull-like strength and gave the push; and just as we shot clear
into the channel it became dark as pitch, and the rain came down in a
torrent. Goshorn pitched his hat high into the air--_aux moulins_--and
hurrahed and cried in exulting joy.

"Now, Mr. Leland, sing us that German song you're always so jolly
with--_lodle yodle tol de rol de rol_!"

From that hour I was _Kchee-Bo-o-in_ or Grand Pow-wow to Sam Fox and his
friends. He believed in me, even as I believe in myself when such mad
"spells" come over me. One day he proved his confidence. It was bright
and sunshiny, and we were paddling along when we saw a "summer duck"
swimming perhaps fifty yards ahead. Sam was sitting in the bow exactly
between me and the duck. "Fire at it with your revolver!" cried Sam.

"It is too far away," I replied, "and you are right in the way."

Sam bent over sideways, glaring at me with his one strange eye. It was
just about as close a shot as was William Tell's at the apple. But I
knew that reputation for nerve depended on it, so I fired. As the duck
rose it dropped a feather.

"I knew you'd hit!" cried Sam triumphantly. And so I had, but I should
not like to try that shot again.

Reflex action of the brain and secondary automatism! It must be
so--Haeckel, thou reasonest well. But when the "old Injun" and my High-
Dutch ancestor are upon me, I reason not at all, and then I see visions
and dream dreams, and it always comes true, without the _least_
self-deception or delusion.

It is a marvellous thing that in these canoes, which tip over so easily