When the sun had disappeared behind the hills, he saw ahead a gray rock protruding from the green foliage.

It was ponderous, overhanging, and seemed to frown down on the river.

This was Shawnee Rock.

Joe looked long at the cliff, and wondered if there was now an Indian scout hidden behind the pines that skirted the edge.
Prominent on the top of the bluff a large, dead tree projected its hoary, twisted branches.
Bill evidently saw the landmark, for he stopped in his monotonous walk to and fro across the raft, and pushing his oar amidships he looked ahead for the other raft.

The figure of the tall frontiersman could be plainly seen as he labored at the helm.
The raft disappeared round a bend, and as it did so Joe saw a white scarf waved by Nell.
Bill worked the clumsy craft over toward the right shore where the current was more rapid.