hand, "I will
teach you how to steer a keel boat."

"Mon Dieu," said Xavier, "and who is to pay Michie Gratiot for his fur?
The river, she is full of things."

"Yes, I know, Xavier, but you will teach me to steer."

"Volontiers, Michie, as we go now. But there come a time when I, even I,
who am twenty year on her, do not know whether it is right or left. Ze
rock--he vair' hard. Ze snag, he grip you like dat," and Xavier twined
his strong arms around Nick until he was helpless. "Ze bar--he hol' you
by ze leg. An' who is to tell you how far he run under ze yellow water,
Michie? I, who speak to you, know. But I know not how I know. Ze water,
sometime she tell, sometime she say not'ing."

"A bas, Xavier!" said Nick, pushing him away, "I will teach you the
river."

Xavier laughed, and sat down on the edge of the cabin. Nick took easily
to accomplishments, and he handled the clumsy tiller with a certainty
and distinction that made the boatmen swear in two languages and a
patois. A great water-logged giant of the Northern forests loomed ahead
of us. Xavier sprang to his feet, but Nick had swung his boat swiftly,
smoothly, into the deeper water on the outer side.

"Saint Jacques, Michie," cried Xavier, "you mek him better zan I
thought."

Fascinated by a new accomplishment, Nick held to the tiller, while
Xavier with a trained eye scanned the troubled, yellow-glistening
surface of the river ahead. The wind died, the sun beat down with a
moist and venomous sting, and northeastward above the edge of the bluff
a bank of cloud like sulphur smoke was lifted. Gradually Xavier ceased
his jesting and became quiet.

"Looks like a hurricane," said Nick.

"Mon Dieu," said Xavier, "you have right, Michie," and he called in
his rapid patois to the crew, who lounged forward in the cabin's shade.
There came to my mind the memory of that hurricane at Temple Bow long
ago, a storm that seemed to have brought so much sorrow into my life. I
glanced at Nick, but his face was serene.

The cloud-bank came on in black and yellow masses, and the saffron light
I recalled so well turned the living green of the forest to a sickly
pallor and the yellow river to a tinge scarce to be matched on earth.
Xavier had the tiller now, and the men were straining at the oars to
send the boat across the current towards the nearer western shore. And
as my glance took in the scale of things, the miles of bluff frowning
above the bottom, the river that seeme