"His _young_ friend -- the Sergeant has the advantage of me by thirty
years; yes, he is thirty years my senior, and as many my better."

"Not in the eyes of the daughter, perhaps, friend Pathfinder;"
put in Cap, whose spirits began to revive when he found the water
once more flowing around him. "The thirty years that you mention
are not often thought to be an advantage in the eyes of girls of
nineteen."

Mabel colored; and, in turning aside her face to avoid the looks
of those in the bow of the canoe, she encountered the admiring gaze
of the young man in the stern. As a last resource, her spirited
but soft blue eyes sought refuge in the water. Just at this moment
a dull, heavy sound swept up the avenue formed by the trees, borne
along by a light air that hardly produced a ripple on the water.

"That sounds pleasantly," said Cap, pricking up his ears like a
dog that hears a distant baying; "it is the surf on the shores of
your lake, I suppose?"

"Not so -- not so," answered the Pathfinder; "it is merely this
river tumbling over some rocks half a mile below us."

"Is there a fall in the stream?" demanded Mabel, a still brighter
flush glowing in her face.

"The devil! Master Pathfinder, or you, Mr. Eau-douce" (for so Cap
began to style Jasper), "had you not better give the canoe a sheer,
and get nearer to the shore? These waterfalls have generally rapids
above them, and one might as well get into the Maelstrom at once