Murky cloud split to show shining, blue-white stars and a fitful moon, that silvered the crests of the spruces and sometimes hid like a gleaming, black-threaded peak behind the dark branches.
Jones, a plainsman all his days, wonderingly watched the moon-blanched water.

He saw it shade and darken under shadowy walls of granite, where it swelled with hollow song and gurgle.

He heard again the far-off rumble, faint on the night.

High cliff banks appeared, walled out the mellow, light, and the river suddenly narrowed.

Yawning holes, whirlpools of a second, opened with a gurgling suck and raced with the boat.
On the craft flew.