Half the time he's paddlin', half the time he's bailin' her out, an' all the time he's making a desperate effort to git to land." The others were now up and awake, and they gazed with intense interest.
"It's a white man in the canoe ez shore ez I'm a livin' sinner!" exclaimed Shif'less Sol.
"And it's a question," added Henry, "whether his canoe gets to the bank or the bottom of the river first." "It's a white man and we must save him!" cried Paul, his generous boy's heart stirred to the utmost.
They quickly untied their boat and pulled with great strokes toward the sinking canoe and its lone occupant.

They were alongside in a few minutes and Henry threw a rope to the man, who caught it with a skillful hand, and tied his frail craft stoutly to the side of the strong "Galleon." Then, as Paul reached a friendly hand down to him he sprang on board, exclaiming at the same time in a deep voice: "May the blessing of Heaven rest upon you, my children." The five were startled at the face and appearance of the man who came upon their boat.

They had never thought of encountering such a figure in the wilderness.

He was of middle age, tall, well-built, and remarkably straight, but his shaven face was thin and ascetic, and the look in his eyes was one of extraordinary benevolence.

Moreover, it had the peculiar quality of seeming to gaze far into the future, as it were, at something glorious and beautiful.