An impulse that she did not altogether understand impelled her to persist.
"The Indians go down now and then," she said.
"Yes," admitted Weston, "I believe they do." "Then why can't you ?" Weston appeared a trifle embarrassed.
"It wouldn't be quite safe." "You mean to you ?" The man's face flushed a little.

He had done a good deal of river work, and none of his companions had accused him of lack of nerve, but, though he had an excellent reason for knowing that the thing was possible, he had no intention of shooting the fall.
"Well," he said, "if you like to look at it in that way." Ida rose and stepped ashore without taking his proffered hand.

Then she leaned on a boulder while Weston sat still in the canoe, and for a moment or two they looked at each other.

The situation was a somewhat novel one to the girl, for, in spite of the fact that she desired it, the packer evidently did not mean to go.

This alone was sufficient to vex her, but there was another cause, which she subconsciously recognized, that made her resentment deeper.