ly it's a
fair wind to the river mouth."

Agatha could scarcely hear him, but when she asked how far it was he
nodded as if he understood.

"Three or four miles! Not much sweep for the wind, but it will raise a
nasty sea before we get there."

Gazing at the driving clouds that blotted out the forest, she tried to
ask if he could find the river, but just then the canoe rolled and the
little spritsail swelled like a balloon. There was a hiss and a splash,
and the top of a wave that split at the stern and rolled forward poured
in at the waist. Thirlwell bent over the paddle and slackened the sheet,
the canoe swung her bows out, and leaped ahead. Spray blew about in
showers; the foam stood in a ridge amidships and boiled high about the
stern. It seemed to Agatha that they were traveling like a toboggan, and
she had an exhilarating sense of speed that banished the thought of
danger.

"How fast are we going?" she shouted.

"I don't know. Five miles an hour, perhaps!"

It sounded ridiculous; Agatha had felt as if they were flying. Then she
saw that skill was needed to keep the canoe before the wind and
Thirlwell ran two risks. If he let the craft fall off too far, the sail
would swing across and she might be capsized by the shock; if he let
her swerve to windward, the following wave would break on board and she
would be swamped. Thirlwell looked highly strung but very cool. A
mistake would have disastrous consequences; if he gave way to the strain
for a moment, the canoe would sink. But she knew he would not give way,
and it was comforting to see that the half-breed shared her confidence.
He was, no doubt, a _voyageur_ from his boyhood, but it was plain that
he did not want to take the steering paddle.

Sometimes, when a savage gust screamed about them and whipped up the
spray in clouds, Thirlwell let the sheet run round a pin; sometimes he
sank the paddle deep and she saw its handle bend and the blood flush his
face. Drops of sweat ran down his forehead, but his glance was fixed and
calm. The strain on brain and muscle braced without exciting him; he
seemed to accept it as something to which he was used. He could be
trusted in an emergency, and for some obscure reason she was glad to
feel he was the man she had thought.

Then she watched the other canoe, which had dropped astern. The _Metis_
had set their sail, but she was not running well. She swerved when she
lifted with the waves and rolled until it looked as if