No soft beauty marked the river of the North, and the land it flowed through looked forbidding and desolate.
"The Shadow River," said Thirlwell.

"You can see the Grand Rapid.

I have marked a cross where the canoe upset." Agatha said nothing for a few moments, and Thirlwell was relieved.

He saw she felt keenly, but she was calm.

In the meantime he waited; one learns to wait in the North.
"Thank you; I would like to keep the picture," she said by and by, and gave him a level glance.