He was more than that--an enemy, a man-hound sent out on a
trail to destroy, an agent of a powerful and merciless force that
carried with it punishment and death.
The crew of the bateau had joined in the evening song of the
rivermen on the raft, and over the ridges and hollows of the
forest tops, red and green and gold in the last warm glory of the
sun, echoed that chanting voice of men. David understood now what
St. Pierre's command had been. The huge raft with its tented city
of life was preparing to tie up for the night. A quarter of a mile
ahead the river widened, so that on the far side was a low, clean
shore toward which the efforts of the men at the sweeps were
slowly edging the raft. York boats shot out on the shore side and
dropped anchors that helped drag the big craft in. Two others
tugged at tow-lines fastened to the shoreside bow, and within
twenty minutes the first men were plunging up out of the water on
the white strip of beach and were whipping the tie-lines about the
nearest trees. David unconsciously was smiling in the thrill and
triumph of these last moments, and not until they were over did he
sense the fact that Bateese and his crew were bringing the bateau
in to the opposite shore.
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