There was half a moon shining and a breeze from the east, but the stream writhed and twisted and turned until sometimes they seemed to be sailing up rather than down.

In the long reaches they set the yard square and ran, but often they had to lower their two boats and warp her painfully along, Tomlinson of Salem, the mate, and six grave, tobacco-chewing, New England seamen with their broad palmetto hats, tugging and straining at the oars.

Amos Green, De Catinat, and even the old merchant had to take their spell ere morning, when the sailors were needed aboard for the handling of the canvas.
At last, however, with the early dawn the river broadened out and each bank trended away, leaving a long funnel-shaped estuary between.
Ephraim Savage snuffed the air and paced the deck briskly with a twinkle in his keen gray eyes.

The wind had fallen away, but there was still enough to drive them slowly upon their course.
"Where's the gal ?" he asked.
"She is in my cabin," said Amos Green.

"I thought that maybe she could manage there until we got across." "Where will you sleep yourself, then ?" "Tut, a litter of spruce boughs and a sheet of birch bark over me have been enough all these years.