The Lost Trail | Page 2

hiding-place, he was peering out upon the river. Each bowlder

had emerged from this shrubbery, and had not passed through it in its
downward course; so that their starting-point may now be considered a
settled question.
Supposing one to have gazed from this stand-point, what would have
been his field of vision? A long stretch of river--a vast, almost
interminable extent of forest--a faint, far-off glimpse of a mountain
peak projected like a thin cloud against the blue sky, and a solitary
eagle that, miles above, was bathing his plumage in the clear
atmosphere. Naught else?
Close under the opposite shore, considerably lower down than the point
to which we first directed our attention, may be descried a dark object.
It is a small Indian canoe, in which are seated two white men and a
female, all of whom are attired in the garb of civilization. The young
man near the stern is of slight mold, clear blue eye, and a prepossessing
countenance. He holds a broad ashen paddle in his hand with which to
assist his companion, who maintains his proximity to the shore for the
purpose of overcoming more deftly the opposition of the current. The
second personage is a short but square-shouldered Irishman, with
massive breast, arms like the piston-rods of an engine, and a broad,
good-natured face. He is one of those beings who may be aptly termed
"machines," a patient, plodding, ox-like creature who takes to the most
irksome labor as a flail takes to the sheafs on the threshing-floor. Work
was his element, and nothing, it would seem, could tire or overcome
those indurated muscles and vice-like nerves. The only appellation with
which he was ever known to be honored was that of "Teddy."
Near the center of the canoe, which was of goodly size and straight,
upon a bed of blankets, sat the wife of the young man in the stern. A
glance would have dissipated the slightest suspicion of her being
anything other than a willing voyager upon the river. There was the
kindling eye and glowing cheek, the eager look that flitted hither and
yon, and the buoyant feeling manifest in every movement, all of which
expressed more of enthusiasm than of willingness merely. Her constant
questions to her husband or Teddy, kept up a continual run of
conversation, which was now, for the first time, momentarily

interrupted by the occurrence to which we have alluded.
At the moment we introduce them the young man was holding his
paddle stationary and gazing off toward his right, where the splash in
the water denoted the fall of the third stone. His face wore an
expression of puzzled surprise, mingled with which was a look of
displeasure, as if he were "put out" at this manifestation. His eyes were
fixed with a keen, searching gaze upon the river-bank, expecting the
appearance of something more.
Teddy also was resting upon his paddle, and scrutinizing the point in
question; but he seemed little affected by what had taken place. His
face was as expressionless as one of the bowlders, save the ever-present
look of imperturbable good-humor.
The young woman seemed more absorbed than either of her
companions, in attempting to divine this mystery that had so suddenly
come upon them. More than once she raised her hand, as an admonition
for Teddy to preserve silence. Finally, however, his impatience got the
better of his obedience, and he broke the oppressive stillness.
"And what does ye make of it, Miss Cora, or Master Harvey?" he asked,
after a few moments, dipping his paddle at the same time in the water.
"Arrah, now, has either of ye saan anything more than the same
bowlders there?"
"No," answered the man, "but we may; keep a bright look-out, Teddy,
and let me know what you see."
The Irishman inclined his head to one side, and closed one eye as if
sighting an invisible gun. Suddenly he exclaimed, with a start:
"I see something now, sure as a Bally-ma-gorrah wake."
"What is it?"
"The sun going down in the west, and tilling us we've no time to shpare
in fooling along here."

"Teddy, don't you remember day before yesterday when we came out
of the Mississippi into this stream, we observed something very similar
to this?"
"An' what if we did, zur? Does ye mane to say that a rock or two can't
git tired of layin' in bed for a thousand years and roll around like a
potaty in a garret whin the floor isn't stiddy?"
"It struck us as so remarkable that we both concluded it must have been
caused purposely by some one."
"Me own opinion was, ye remember, that it was a lot of school-boys
that had run away from their master, and were indulging themselves in
a little