A week later, he went up the river bank, one evening, with a fishing rod, and stopped at dusk at the tail of the Grand Rapid.  He had gone farther than he meant and was tired after scrambling across slippery rocks and among the driftwood that lay about the bank.  There was, however, a shorter way back, and lighting his pipe he sat down upon the gravel and looked about.

The sun had set some time since, but the light would not quite die out until just before the dawn, and the pines across the river rose against the green sky in a dark, broken-topped wall.  Near his feet the bleached skeletons of trees, ground by floods and ice, glimmered a livid white, and beyond them the rapid frothed and roared in angry turmoil.  The river had shrunk now the melted snow had flowed away, and rocks one seldom saw lifted their black tops above the racing foam.  Inshore of the main rush, smooth-worn ledges ran in and out among shallow pools.  A short distance ahead, the bush rolled down to the water’s edge in a dark mass that threw back in confused echoes the din the river made.

By and by the mosquitoes that had followed Thirlwell got more numerous and when, in spite of the smoke, they settled upon his face and neck he reeled up his line ready to start.  As he did so he thought he saw something move where the forest ran down to the river.  The object was indistinct, but it looked like a man walking cautiously upon a ledge between the pools, and Thirlwell wondered what the fellow was doing there.  The big gray trout had stopped rising, there were no Indians about, and the miners had not left the camp.

Thirlwell waited until the man moved out from the gloom of the trees.  His figure was now distinct against the foam of the rapid, and he stooped as if he were looking down into a pool.  Then he moved on, and Thirlwell, noting that he would soon pass in front of a dark rock, resolved to change his place in order to watch him better.  Getting up, he went down to the water’s edge, but came to a tangle of white branches that the river had thrown up.  As he stopped he saw the man plainly, but when he looked up after scrambling over the driftwood there was nobody about.

This was strange and excited his curiosity.  The other’s figure would probably be invisible against the rock, but he must have moved rapidly to get in front of it.  Then Thirlwell saw that where he stood the bush was no longer behind him.  He had the inshore eddies for a background and the water reflected a faint light.  There was no obvious reason why the other should be alarmed and try to steal away, but it looked as if he had done so.

Thirlwell sat down among the driftwood and waited, but saw no more of the man; and then going back quietly, turned into a trail that led to the mine.  The trail was rough and narrow; in places, short brush had sprung up, and there were patches of outcropping rock.  It would be difficult for anybody to follow it without making some noise, but although he stopped and listened no sound came out of the gloom.