first sent off with a load, and then La Certe
and some of the others followed. When he reached the upper end of the
portage, Dan flung down his load, and, from his elevated position, gazed
wistfully down the valley through which the waters of the Winnipeg River
roared and seethed among jagged rocks as far as the eye could reach. It
was a wild majestic scene, but no thought of its grandeur touched the
mind of the poor prisoner. He thought only of escape. His intimate
knowledge, however, of the terrific power of rushing water told him that
there could be no escape in that direction.

"Oh! if my arms were only free, I would risk it!" he murmured, as he
raised his hands and looked at the powerful thongs of hide with which
they were bound--thongs which were always drawn tighter when he landed,
to render an attempt at escape more hopeless. Then he glanced at the
rushing river beside him. A sheer precipice of full thirty feet
descended from the spot on which he stood to the edge of the flood.
Just below there was a whirlpool, and beyond that began the first of the
series of falls and rapids which were avoided by means of the portage.
Half-mad though he was, he did not dream of attempting such a leap with
bound hands. He would wait, and continue to hope for a more favourable
opportunity, but the possibility of such an opportunity was now growing
very faint indeed, for even if he did escape, and had a canoe to use, it
was by that time barely possible to accomplish the journey in time for
the wedding-day. But although his hope of being in time had pretty well
died out, his whole heart was still concentrated on the simple desire to
escape.

A rush of despair came upon the poor youth just then, and the idea of
ending his misery by taking his own life occurred to him for a fleeting
moment, as he gazed wistfully around on water, wood, and sky, and
observed the laden and toiling men who were slowly clambering up the
steep towards him--La Certe being in front.

Just then an object among the grass at his feet attracted his attention.
Stooping, he picked it up and found it to be a scalping-knife!--
dropped, probably, long before by some passing Indians or voyageurs, for
it was very rusty.

With a bounding heart and a wild rush of blood to his temples, he sprang
towards a tree: stuck the point of the knife into it; held the handle
with his teeth; sawed the thongs across its edge once or twice--and was
free!

His first impuls