in the center of the red light, and its
occupant, with a slight swaying motion of the paddle, held it steady in
the current, while he listened. Every feature stood out in the glow, the
firm chin, the straight strong nose, the blue eyes, and the thick yellow
hair. The red blue, and yellow beads on his dress of beautifully tanned
deerskin flashed in the brilliant rays. He was the great picture of
fact, not of fancy, a human being animated by a living, dauntless soul.

He gave the paddle a single sweep and shot from the light into the
shadow. His canoe did not stop until it grazed the northern shore, where
bushes and overhanging boughs made a deep shadow. It would have taken
a keen eye now to have seen either the canoe or its occupant, and
Henry Ware paddled slowly and without noise in the darkest heart of the
shadow.

The sunlight lingered a little longer in the center of the stream. Then
the red changed to pink. The pink, in its turn, faded, and the whole
surface of the river was somber gray, flowing between two lines of black
forest.

The coming of the darkness did not stop the boy. He swung a little
farther out into the stream, where the bushes and hanging boughs would
not get in his way, and continued his course with some increase of
speed.

The great paddle swung swiftly through the water, and the length of
stroke was amazing, but the boy's breath did not come faster, and the
muscles on his arms and shoulders rippled as if it were the play of
a child. Henry was in waters unknown to him. He had nothing more than
hearsay upon which to rely, and he used all the wilderness caution that
he had acquired through nature and training. He called into use every
faculty of his perfect physical being. His trained eyes continually
pierced the darkness. At times, he stopped and listened with ears that
could hear the footfall of the rabbit, but neither eye nor ear brought
report of anything unusual. The river flowed with a soft, sighing sound.
Now and then a wild creature stirred in the forest, and once a deer
came down to the margin to drink, but this was the ordinary life of the
woods, and he passed it by.

He went on, hour after hour. The river narrowed. The banks grew higher
and rockier, and the water, deep and silvery under the moon, flowed in
a somewhat swifter current. Henry gave a little stronger sweep to the
paddle, and the speed of the canoe was maintained. He still kept within
the shadow of the northern bank.

He