Once we narrowly escaped collision with a speeding Indian canoe,
containing two frightened occupants, so intent upon saving themselves
they never even glanced up until we had swept by. Thockmorton laughed
heartily at their desperate struggle in the swell, and several of the
crew ran to the stern to watch the little cockle-shell toss about in
the waves. It was when I turned also, the better to assure myself of
their safety, that I discovered Judge Beaucaire standing close beside
me at the low rail. Our eyes met inquiringly, and he bowed with all
the ceremony of the old school.

"A new passenger on board, I think, sir," and his deep, resonant voice
left a pleasant impression. "You must have joined our company at Fort
Armstrong?"

"Your supposition is correct," I answered, some peculiar constraint
preventing me from referring to my military rank. "My name is Knox,
and I have been about the island for a few weeks. I believe you are
Judge Beaucaire of Missouri?"

He was a splendidly proportioned man, with deep chest, great breadth of
shoulders, and strong individual face, yet bearing unmistakable signs
of dissipation, together with numerous marks of both care and age.

"I feel the honor of your recognition, sir," he said with dignity.
"Knox, I believe you said? Of the Knox family at Cape Girardeau, may I
inquire?"

"No connection to my knowledge; my home was at Wheeling."