gravel and looked about.

The sun had set some time since, but the light would not quite die out
until just before the dawn, and the pines across the river rose against
the green sky in a dark, broken-topped wall. Near his feet the bleached
skeletons of trees, ground by floods and ice, glimmered a livid white,
and beyond them the rapid frothed and roared in angry turmoil. The river
had shrunk now the melted snow had flowed away, and rocks one seldom saw
lifted their black tops above the racing foam. Inshore of the main rush,
smooth-worn ledges ran in and out among shallow pools. A short distance
ahead, the bush rolled down to the water's edge in a dark mass that
threw back in confused echoes the din the river made.

By and by the mosquitoes that had followed Thirlwell got more numerous
and when, in spite of the smoke, they settled upon his face and neck he
reeled up his line ready to start. As he did so he thought he saw
something move where the forest ran down to the river. The object was
indistinct, but it looked like a man walking cautiously upon a ledge
between the pools, and Thirlwell wondered what the fellow was doing
there. The big gray trout had stopped rising, there were no Indians
about, and the miners had not left the camp.

Thirlwell waited until the man moved out from the gloom of the trees.
His figure was now distinct against the foam of the rapid, and he
stooped as if he were looking down into a pool. Then he moved on, and
Thirlwell, noting that he would soon pass in front of a dark rock,
resolved to change his place in order to watch him better. Getting up,
he went down to the water's edge, but came to a tangle of white branches
that the river had thrown up. As he stopped he saw the man plainly, but
when he looked up after scrambling over the driftwood there was nobody