The moon rose cheerfully above Donner Lake.

On its placid bosom a dug-out canoe glided rapidly, containing Natty Bumpo and Genevra Tompkins.
Both were silent.

The same thought possessed each, and perhaps there was sweet companionship even in the unbroken quiet.

Genevra bit the handle of her parasol and blushed.

Natty Bumpo took a fresh chew of tobacco.