"What's that?" they all cried.

"I don't know," she answered, "but I saw it on one of the big oil tanks
as we passed."

Sahwah and Nyoda won the right to take the first paddle in the
_Keewaydin_. They carried the canoe on their heads, portage fashion,
around the dam, and launched it up above, where the confined waters had
spread out into a wide pond. "Oh, what a joy to dip a paddle again!"
sighed Sahwah blissfully, sending the _Keewaydin_ flying through the
water with long, vigorous strokes. "I'd love to paddle all the way
home." She had completely forgotten that there was such a thing as
school and lessons in the world. She was the Daughter of the River, and
this was a joyous homecoming.

"Time to go back and let the rest have a turn," said Nyoda. Reluctantly
Sahwah steered the canoe around and returned to the waiting group. Mrs.
Evans watched with interest as Gladys and Hinpoha pushed out from shore.
Could this be her once frail daughter, who had despised all strenuous
sports and hated water above all things, who was swinging her paddle so
lustily and steering the _Keewaydin_ so skilfully? What was this strange
Something that the Camp Fire had instilled into her? She caught her
breath with the beauty of it, as the girls glided along between the
radiant banks, the two paddles flashing in and out in perfect rhythm.
They were singing a favorite boating song, and their voices floated back
on the breeze:

"Through the mystic haze of the autumn days
Like a phantom ghost I glide,
Where the big moose sees the crimson trees