compare with the tremendous conifers which fill all the valleys and climb
high to the snow-line in that wild and rugged land.

There was no sound from the cabin, and Vane decided that his guests had
gone to sleep. The sloop was driving along steadily, with neither lift
nor roll, but when, increasing her speed, she piled the foam up on her
lee side and the canoe rode on a great white wave, he glanced toward his
companion.

"I wonder how the wind is outside?" he questioned.

Carroll looked around and saw the white mists stream athwart the pines on
a promontory they were skirting.

"That's more than I can tell. In these troughs among the hills, it either
blows straight up or directly down, and I dare say we'll find it
different when we reach the sound. One thing's certain--there's some
weight in it now."

Vane nodded agreement, though an idea that troubled him crept into his
mind.

"I understand that the steamboat skipper will run in to land some Siwash
he's bringing down. It will be awkward in the dark if the wind's
on-shore."

Carroll made no comment, and they drove on. As they swept around the
point, the sloop, slanting sharply, dipped her lee rail in the froth.
Ahead of them the inlet was flecked with white, and the wail of the
swaying firs came off from the shadowy beach and mingled with the