The hollow crash of the forest trees as they
bowed to the earth could be heard, sullenly sounding from shore to shore.
And now the Indian girl, flinging back her black streaming hair from her
brow, knelt at the head of the canoe, and with renewed vigour plied the
paddle. The waters, lashed into a state of turbulence by the violence of
the storm, lifted the canoe up and down, but no word was spoken--they each
felt the greatness of the peril, but they also knew that they were in the
hands of Him who can say to the tempest-tossed waves, "Peace, be still,"
and they obey Him.
Every effort was made to gain the nearest island; to reach the mainland
was impossible, for the rain poured down a blinding deluge; it was with
difficulty the little craft was kept afloat, by baling out the water; to do
this, Louis was fain to use his cap, and Catharine assisted with the old
tin-pot which she had fortunately brought from the trapper's shanty.
The tempest was at its height when they reached the nearest point of the
Beaver, and joyful was the grating sound of the canoe as it was vigorously
pushed up on the shingly beach, beneath the friendly shelter of the
overhanging trees, where, perfectly exhausted by the exertions they had
made, dripping with rain and overpowered by the terrors of the storm,
they threw themselves on the ground, and in safety watched its
progress--thankful for an escape from such imminent peril.
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