Instead of carrying her against the banks this warded her off, for it drew her between the islets in the channels where it ran fastest, and the undertow, where it struck the shore, bore her back from the land.

Driving before the wind, the canoe swept onward steadily to the west.

In an hour it had passed the line of the black water, and entered the sweet Lake.

Another hour and all trace of the marshes had utterly disappeared, the last faint glow of the vapour had vanished.

The dawn of the coming summer's day appeared, and the sky became a lovely azure.