The spell was upon him.

His imagination became so vivid that it was not a mountaineer singing.

He had gone back into another century.

It was one of the great borderers, perhaps Boone himself, who was paddling his canoe upon the stream, the name of which was danger.

And Kenton, and Logan and Harrod and the others were abroad in the woods.
He was engrossed so deeply that he did not hear a heavy step behind him, nor did he see a huge bewhiskered figure in the path, holding a clubbed rifle.