As if by some envious
demon of the flood, this curtain seemed to have been drawn: for, just as
the fog had fairly unfurled itself, I fancied I could hear the dipping
of a paddle at no great distance off in the channel of the stream.
Moreover, gazing intently into the mist--as yet thin and filmy--I
fancied I saw a long dark object upon the surface, with the silhouettes
of human forms outlined above it--just as of a canoe _en profile_ with
passengers in it. I even noted the number of the upright forms: three
of them--which exactly corresponded to that of the party we were
expecting. So certain was I at the moment, of seeing all this, that I
need not have shouted to assure myself. Excited with over-eagerness, I
did so; and hailed the canoe in hopes of obtaining an answer. My
summons produced not the desired effect. On the contrary, it seemed to
still the slight plashing I had heard; and, before the echoes of my
voice died upon the air, the dark objects had glided out of sight--
having passed under thick masses of the floating vapour. Over and over,
I repeated my summons--each time changing the form of speech, and each
time with like fruitless effect! The only answer I received was from
the blue heron, that, startled by my shouts, rose screaming out of the
fog, and flapped her broad wings close to my perch upon the tree.
Whether the forms I had seen were real--or only apparitions conjured up
by my excited brain--they vouchsafed no reply; and, in truth, in the
very next moment, I inclined to the belief that my senses had been
deceiving me!

From that time, my comrade and I were uncertain; and this, uncertainty
will explain the absence of our surprise at not seeing the canoe, and
why we waited no longer for its coming. The most probable conjectures
were that it had passed us in the fog; that the apparition was real; and
they that occupied the canoe were now far-away on the Mississippi--no
longer trusting to such a frail craft, but passengers on one of the
numerous steam-boats, that by night as by day, and in opposite
directions, we had seen passing the mouth of the Obion.

In all likelihood, then, the fugitives were now beyond the limits of
Tennessee; and we felt sufficiently assured of this. But the more
important point remained undetermined--whether they had gone northward
or southward--whether by the routes of the Missouri or those of the
Arkansas? Upon this question we were as undecided as ever. At that
seas