There was a young man in Fentown called David Brown, a comely young fellow, belonging to one of the richer families of the place.

He was good-natured, and an athlete; he had of late fallen into the habit of dropping in frequently to drink Ann's beer.

She felt no doubt that Christa was his attraction.

Some weeks before he had boasted that he had found the bed of a creek which made its way through the drowned forest, and that by it he had paddled his canoe through the marsh that lay to the north of the lake.

He had also boasted that he had a secret way of finding the creek again.