Roger cannot miss the canoe--twenty paces down and with nothing to shadow it overhead; I think he has found it by this time, and in another half minute they will be off.

And it is very black down the Burntwood, with deep timber close to the water, and for many miles no man can follow by night along its shores." Suddenly his hands tightened, and the Leaf Bud, watching him slyly, saw the last of suspense go out of his face.
"And now--they are safe," he cried exultantly.

"They must be on their way--and Breault has not come across the clearing!" He rose to his feet, and began pacing back and forth, while Peter sniffed yearningly at the door again.

Oosimisk, with the caution of her race in moments of danger, was drawing the curtains at the windows, and Father John smiled his approbation.

He did not want Breault, the man-hunter, peering through one of the windows at him.