“Is it not rather risky going down there?” asked Alfred as he noticed the swift current and the numerous boulders poking treacherous heads just above the water.

“Of course.  That is the great pleasure in canoeing,” said Betty, calmly.  “If you would rather walk—­”

“No, I’ll go if I drown.  I was thinking of you.”

“It is safe enough if you can handle a paddle,” said Betty, with a smile at his hesitation.  “And, of course, if your partner in the canoe sits trim.”

“Perhaps you had better allow me to use the paddle.  Where did you learn to steer a canoe?”

“I believe you are actually afraid.  Why, I was born on the Potomac, and have used a paddle since I was old enough to lift one.  Come, place the canoe in here and we will keep to the near shore until we reach the bend.  There is a little fall just below this and I love to shoot it.”

He steadied the canoe with one hand while he held out the other to help her, but she stepped nimbly aboard without his assistance.

“Wait a moment while I catch some crickets and grasshoppers.”

“Gracious!  What a fisherman.  Don’t you know we have had frost?”

“That’s so,” said Alfred, abashed by her simple remark.

“But you might find some crickets under those logs,” said Betty.  She laughed merrily at the awkward spectacle made by Alfred crawling over the ground, improvising a sort of trap out of his hat, and pouncing down on a poor little insect.

“Now, get in carefully, and give the canoe a push.  There, we are off,” she said, taking up the paddle.

The little bark glided slowly down stream at first hugging the bank as though reluctant to trust itself to the deeper water, and then gathering headway as a few gentle strokes of the paddle swerved it into the current.  Betty knelt on one knee and skillfully plied the paddle, using the Indian stroke in which the paddle was not removed from the water.

“This is great!” exclaimed Alfred, as he leaned back in the bow facing her.  “There is nothing more to be desired.  This beautiful clear stream, the air so fresh, the gold lined banks, the autumn leaves, a guide who—­”

“Look,” said Betty.  “There is the fall over which we must pass.”

He looked ahead and saw that they were swiftly approaching two huge stones that reared themselves high out of the water.  They were only a few yards apart and surrounded by smaller rocks, about high the water rushed white with foam.

“Please do not move!” cried Betty, her eyes shining bright with excitement.