g of July, the
deep feelings that were stirred within her soul seemed to find their
natural outlet, as she turned to her husband and said, "this seems like
a glimpse of some better world." He replied, "it appears as though we
are sailing through a land of perfect rest." "I trust we are, though we
sail through a country peopled with savages." She replied, "To-day we
beheld the sun in his glory, and strong in his power, now he is
departing, but I trust as we continue to sail o'er the ocean of time,
guided by the King of Pilots toward a land where glory never fades, and
where the True Light never grows dim, our passage may continually be lit
up by the reflecting rays of the Sun of Righteousness." As she finished
speaking a bright light flashed on the starboard shore, quickly followed
by the report of a musket. The Captain, starting at the report,
remarked, "perhaps that Indian (Paul) has been watching and following."
Here the Captain's words were cut short by a loud cry from one of the
children and the sound of a splash. Little Jack, the fourth child, had
tripped against the forward rail and gone overboard. His mother, almost
as quickly as the flash of a gun, threw herself overboard at the stern
of the sloop, holding on to the rail with her hands and calling to the
little fellow to catch hold of her dress, as the tide carried him toward
her. He was too far out to reach her skirt, and the running water
carried him by her. She immediately let go both hands and floated from
the vessel, and made a desperate effort to reach her boy. The Captain,
almost beside himself, put the helm hard down, and was in the act of
plunging in. Meantime his wife and son were drifting farther away. Just
then, making a second desperate effort, she succeeded in grasping her
child. At this moment a canoe shot like an arrow past the sloop, in it
was Paul Guidon, paddling with might and main, making straight for the
drowning mother and her boy. In another minute he had the child grasped
firmly in his long sinewy arms, and laying his breast and head over the
stern of the canoe, he called to the mother to grasp at once his long
hair as its ends fell into the water. He managed to get the child safely
into his canoe, but he experienced great difficulty in saving its
mother. She drifted fully one hundred yards, but all the distance
holding stoutly to the Indian's locks. With all the strength of Paul
Guidon he was not able to get Mrs. Godfrey into the canoe. O