We had wandered some distance, when Biddon proposed turning back, as he had just discovered he had forgotten his pipe. I was too well pleased, however, with the prospect to retrace my footsteps. Accordingly, we parted company for a time, he remarking that probably he would return when he had regained his indispensable article.
Left alone, I now wandered dreamily onward, in a pleasant reverie, hardly conscious of what I was doing, until I was recalled to my senses by the grandeur of a new scene that suddenly burst upon my view. I had ascended a small rise on the bank of the stream, from which I had an extended view of the river. I stood for a moment wrapt in the glories of the scene. Far behind could be discerned the broad bosom of the river, stretching away like a vast body of molten silver, bordered on either side by the mighty forest, until it disappeared in a sweeping curve, within the interminable wilderness. Above me for several miles the same winding course could be seen, brightly glistening for miles. Not a ripple disturbed the surface, save when a bird skimmed over it, just tipping its wings, and making a flashing circle or two. The blue sky above, unflecked by a single cloud, harmonized so well with the magnificent view, that I stood a long time, drinking in the splendor of the scene.
My eye was still resting upon the glistening bend of the river above, when the quietness of the scene was interrupted by a dark speck which suddenly came in view, around a curve about a mile above. At first I supposed it to be some animal or log floating upon the surface; but as I looked at it, I saw to my astonishment that it was a canoe coming down-stream. Several forms were visible, yet their number, at that distance, was uncertain. The bright flash of their paddles was visible in the morning sunshine, and they maintained their place near the center of the stream.
“In the stern, with a guiding oar, sat a young female.”
I scrutinized them, vainly to make out their number, until it occurred to me that it would be best to make myself invisible. The approaching canoe might contain nothing but Indians, and it was not desirable that our presence in this section should be known to any but ourselves. I slipped behind the trunk of a tree, nearer the water, yet still upon the elevated knoll, which entirely concealed my body from sight.
From this point I watched the approach of the canoe with interest. Soon it came nigh enough to enable me to distinguish the forms within it. There were two Indian warriors seated each with a paddle in his hand, but not using them, except to keep the canoe in the channel, and in the stern, with a guiding oar, sat a young female. I supposed her a squaw, belonging to the same tribe with her companions, and scrutinized her as closely as my position would permit. She wore a beautiful head-dress, gayly ornamented with stained porcupine quills and beads, and a brilliant crimson shawl enveloped her slight form. The savages maintained their places as motionless as statues, their gaze apparently resting upon the stream behind them; while that of the female was fixed upon the stream in front, and her whole attention absorbed in directing her canoe.
I know not whether the inmates discovered me before I concealed myself, but I fancied I detected a glance of the Indians at my hiding-place, as they floated slowly by, and some cause led the female, when directly opposite, and but a few hundred feet distant, to turn her face toward me. Judge of my astonishment, at perceiving that she was not an Indian—but a white woman! Her appearance, as she turned her gaze directly upon the spot where I was standing, I can never forget. She was so close at hand, and my view so perfect in the clear sunlight, that I saw every feature. The pale white face, surrounded by dark, luxuriant hair falling upon the shoulders, the dark eyes shaded by long inky lashes, and the mute, untranslatable look, haunted me for many a night after. She merely glanced toward me, and slowly floated past.
Dropping upon my hands and knees, I crept hastily from the knoll into the undergrowth below, and made my way hurriedly but noiselessly to the stream. I could not have been over a minute in so doing, but when I reached the water, and peered through the bushes, not a trace of the canoe was visible. I looked closely into each shore, up and down the stream, everywhere that I could look, but could not detect the slightest ripple or movement to account for this mysterious disappearance. For over an hour I waited in the hope that the canoe would reappear, but I saw nothing more of it.