Page:Cornelia Meigs-The Pirate of Jasper Peak.djvu/92

 stream, but he, too, seemed wrapped in deepest slumber. The canoe floated so slowly that it seemed scarcely moving, the Indian’s paddle  dipped and dipped again without a sound. Foot by foot they worked their way along, skirting the  bank where the shadows lay, sliding past like  shadows themselves. The fire flared high, one of the burning logs broke and settled with a crash,  the man beside it awoke. Both boys held their breath, while the canoe floated with the current;  slowly, slowly it crawled into the thick pool of  shade cast by a big maple that overhung the bank. The man, it was the Indian Kaniska, listened as though vaguely conscious that something was  stirring, stooped to mend the fire, then stopped  to listen again and to peer into the dark. Almost imperceptibly the canoe moved on, was swallowed  up in denser shadow, slipped past a bend in the  stream and left the camp out of sight.

The moment of danger had roused Hugh into full wakefulness now and, although he was unbelievably weary, he bent to his paddling with  redoubled energy. The trees seemed to recede