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The Scouts of the Valley by Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander) Altsheler
page 2 of 410 (00%)
boat, grasp the rifle, and carry it to his shoulder with a
single, continuous movement.

His most remarkable aspect, one that the casual observer even
would have noticed, was an extraordinary vitality. He created in
the minds of those who saw him a feeling that he lived intensely
every moment of his life. Born and-bred in the forest, he was
essentially its child, a perfect physical being, trained by the
utmost hardship and danger, and with every faculty, mental and
physical, in complete coordination. It is only by a singular
combination of time and place, and only once in millions of
chances, that Nature produces such a being.

The canoe remained a few moments in the center of the red light,
and its occupant, with a slight swaying motion of the paddle,
held it steady in the current, while he listened. Every feature
stood out in the glow, the firm chin, the straight strong nose,
the blue eyes, and the thick yellow hair. The red blue, and
yellow beads on his dress of beautifully tanned deerskin flashed
in the brilliant rays. He was the great picture of fact, not of
fancy, a human being animated by a living, dauntless soul.

He gave the paddle a single sweep and shot from the light into
the shadow. His canoe did not stop until it grazed the northern
shore, where bushes and overhanging boughs made a deep shadow.
It would have taken a keen eye now to have seen either the canoe
or its occupant, and Henry Ware paddled slowly and without noise
in the darkest heart of the shadow.

The sunlight lingered a little longer in the center of the
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