The brooding stillness was only broken by the distant hooting of owls, or the musical complainings of the swift waters as they chafed impatiently against some snag, reef, or bar.
They talked in hushed voices, and Sabella related how the man from whom her uncle purchased Winn's canoe had told her that she reminded him of his own little daughter, who lived so far away that she didn't even know where her father was.

"He loves her dearly, though," added Sabella.

"I know from the way he talked about her; but I can't think what he meant when he said I ought to be very grateful because I didn't have any father, and that it would be much better for his little girl if she hadn't one either." "I suppose he meant because he is such a bad man," suggested Winn.
"I don't believe he is a bad man," protested Sabella.

"If he was, he just couldn't talk the way he did." "But he stole our raft, and he is a counterfeiter, and there's a reward offered for him." "How do you know?
Only yesterday some people thought you had stolen a boat, and were a counterfeiter, and there were two rewards offered for you," laughed Sabella.

"So perhaps this man isn't any worse than you were.