The boat, however, was running at full speed, and in short time they were able to view the object more clearly.  It was certainly a raft, and the form upon it looked like a human being.  Glen almost stopped breathing as they drew nearer.  Could it be her father? she asked herself.  Who else would be out there on the lake?

As the boat slowed down and ran close to the raft, Sconda called aloud to the figure huddled upon the logs.  But there was no reply.  The wind was tossing the rags which once were clothes, and the waves were speedily breaking the rude craft asunder.  There was no time to lose, so in another minute Sconda had the boat close alongside, and with the aid of Taku the helpless man was lifted from his perilous position.

When Glen saw that the rescued man was not her father, she breathed more freely.  But the first glimpse of his face, bearded though it was, reminded her of someone she had seen before.  Then the light of recognition leaped into her eyes, and with a cry of surprise she dropped upon her knees by the side of the prostrate man as he lay upon the deck.

Almost instantly the impending storm burst with terrible fury over that inland body of water.  The raft went to pieces like matchwood, and Sconda had all that he could do to manage the boat.  With the assistance of Taku, the unconscious man was carried inside, and as Glen watched by his side, unable to do anything for his relief, the tempest raged without.  It was one of those terrific storms which at times sweep down so suddenly from deep mountain draws, and lash the lake in wildest fury. The Frontiersman reeled and plunged as she struggled through the hurricane, and the waves dashed continuously over the deck, threatening to smash the glass in the cabin where Glen was keeping watch.  That large lake, so peaceful at morn, was now a raging monster.  Many an unwary voyager had been caught in such a storm, and in bygone days the natives always used their stoutest charms in their efforts to propitiate the demon of the mountains.

Sconda’s hands firmly grasped the wheel, and his alert eyes studied every wave as he guided the boat on her plunging course.  He realised how much was at stake, for was not his master’s daughter on board, and he responsible for her safety?  Could he have run straight before the gale, it would not have been so difficult.  But the creek was over there to the right, hence it was necessary to run in a diagonal manner which caused the boat to ship a great deal of water.  But keep this steadfast course he did, and after a desperate struggle, The Frontiersman poked her nose into the opening of the creek, and was soon gliding calmly over the smooth water within.

CHAPTER XIV

ANOTHER PRISONER