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 noticed after a while that fleecy vapor was floating before the moon.
The night seemed to be darkening, and a rising wind came out of the southwest.

The touch of the air on, his face was damp.

It was the token of rain, and he felt that it would not be delayed long.
It was no part of his plan to be caught in a storm on the Monongahela.
Besides the discomfort, heavy rain and wind might sink his frail canoe, and he looked for a refuge.

The river was widening again, and the banks sank down until they were but little above the water.