He sang, and the wailing note, confined between the high walls of the stream, took on a great increase in volume and power. Jarvis had one of those uncommon voices sometimes found among the unlearned, a deep, full tenor without a harsh note. When he sang he put his whole heart into the words, and the effect was often wonderful. Harry roused himself suddenly. He was hearing the same song that he had heard the night he went into the river locked fast in Skelly's arms.
"'Nita, 'Nita, Juanita."
rang the tenor note, rising and falling and dying away in wailing echoes, as the boat sped on. Then Harry resolutely turned his face to the future. The will has a powerful effect over the young, and when he made the effort to throw off sadness it fell easily from him. All at once he was embarked with good comrades upon a journey of tremendous interest. Jarvis noticed the change upon his face, but said nothing. He pulled with a long, slow stroke, suited to the solemn refrain of Juanita, which he continued to pour forth with his soul in every word.
They went on, deeper into the Bluegrass. The blue sky above them was now dappled with golden clouds, and the air grew warmer, but Jarvis and his nephew showed no signs of weariness. When Harry judged that the right time had come he asked to relieve Ike at the oar. Ike looked at Jarvis and Jarvis nodded to Ike. Then Ike nodded to Harry, which indicated consent.
But Harry, before taking the oar, drew a small package from his pocket and handed it to Jarvis.
"My father asked me to give you this," he said, "as a remembrance and also as some small recompense for the trouble that I will cause you on this trip."
Jarvis took it, and heard the heavy coins clink together.
"I know without openin' it that this is money," he said, "but bein' of an inquirin' turn o' mind I reckon I've got to look into it an' count it."
He did so deliberately, coin by coin, and his eyes opened a little at the size of the sum.
"It's too much," he said. "Besides you take your turn at the oars."