y yards
and the brown water swirled in eddies among the trees. To keep the canoe
in the main channel required judgment and good steering. Job proved
equal to the occasion and though with their paddling the swiftness of
the current gave the craft a speed of over ten miles an hour, he brought
her down without mishap into a wide-spreading cove. They rested,
drifting slowly across the slack water. "This can't be far from
Cantwell's," Bob was saying, when Jeremy gave a startled exclamation,
and pointed toward the shore, some fifty yards away. A little girl in a
gray frock stood on the bank, her arms full of golden rod and asters.
She had not seen the canoe, for she was looking behind her up the bank.
At that instant there was a crashing in the brush and a big buck deer
stepped out upon the shore, tossing his gleaming antlers to which a few
shreds of summer "velvet" still clung. He was not twenty feet from the
girl, who faced him, perfectly still, the flowers dropping one by one
from her apron.

It was the rutting season and the buck was in a fighting mood. But he
was puzzled by this small motionless antagonist. He hesitated a bare
second before launching his wicked charge. Then as he bellowed his
defiance there came a loud report. The buck's haunches wavered, then
straightened with a jerk, as he made a great leap up the bank and fell
dead. From Jeremy's long-barrelled gun a wisp of smoke floated away.
Betty Cantwell sat down very suddenly and seemed about to cry, but as
the canoe shot up to the shore she was smiling once more. They took her
aboard and started down stream again. A few hundred yards brought them
to the edge of the Cantwell clearing, where Bob hailed the negroes
working in the field and gave them orders for bringing down the dead
buck.

At the landing John Cantwell was waiting in some anxiety, for the sound
of Jeremy's shot had reached him at the house. Bob told the story,
somewhat to Jeremy's embarrassment, for nothing was spared in the
telling. The Quaker thanked him with great earnestness and reproved his
daughter gently for straying beyond the plantation.

After another of those famous dinners Job and the boys returned to their
craft, for there were many miles to make before night. As Jeremy took
up the bow paddle he waved to Betty on the bank, and thrilled with
happiness at the shy smile she gave him. Once again they were in the
current, shooting downstream toward tidewater.

It was mid-afternoon when