Sconda at once gave the wheel a sharp turn to the left, and the boat swinging obediently to its master's will, rushed rapidly forward. A stiff breeze was now blowing dead ahead, and this Glen thoroughly enjoyed. It suited her nature, especially this evening, and she longed for a tempest to sweep upon them. Adventure and excitement she dearly enjoyed, and she had often bewailed the fact that she was a woman and not a man.
"Women are supposed to be demure quiet creatures," she had more than once declared. "They are not supposed to run any risks, but must stay safely in the house. That may satisfy some, but it does not suit me."
Her father and Nannie had always smiled at these outbursts of impatience, thinking that as she grew older her mind would change, and she would see things in a different light. But Glen did not change, and the longing for adventure was as strong in her heart now as ever. The sweep of the wind this evening not only tossed her hair but thrilled her very being, and for the first time since her return home she felt how good it was to live in such a place.
For about half an hour they sped onward, with the wind steadily increasing.
"Big blow soon," Sconda casually remarked, as he glanced at the heavy clouds massing over the mountains. Then he gave a start, and peered keenly forward. His eyes had caught sight of something unusual.
"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the left.
Glen's eyes followed his outstretched arm, and presently she was enabled to detect a dark object upon the water.
"It's only a stick, isn't it, Sconda?"
"No; it's a raft," was the reply. "There's something on it."
"Oh; maybe it's daddy!" Glen exclaimed, now thoroughly aroused. "Make the boat go faster. He will be swamped by these waves!"