The canoe did not answer to Ann's one slim Indian paddle so lightly as the boat she had taken before had answered to the oars.

Kneeling upright in the stern, she was obliged to keep her body in perfect balance.
The moon did not rise now until late, but the smoke that had for two days hung so still and dim had been lifted on a light breeze that came with the darkness.

The stars were clear above, and Ann's eyes were well accustomed to the wood and stream.
Ah! how long it seemed before she came round the bend of the river and down to the blasted tree.

She felt a repulsion for the whole death-like place to-night that she had not felt before.

She had been sure the other night of meeting some one at the end of her secret journey, and now the best she could hope was that the place would be empty; and even if it were empty, perhaps, for all she knew, one of the men for whom she was seeking might be lying dead in the water beneath.