I must have dozed, myself, as the hours passed, although hardly aware of doing so.  The soft, continuous chugging of the engine, the swash of water alongside, the ceaseless sweep of the current, and the dark gloom of the shadows through which we struggled, all combined to produce drowsiness.  I know my eyes were closed several times, and at last they opened to a realization that gray, sickly dawn rested upon the river surface.  It was faint and dim, a promise more than a realization of approaching day, yet already sufficient to afford me view of the shore at our right, and to reveal the outlines of a sharp point of land ahead jutting into the stream.  The mist rising from off the water in vaporous clouds obscured all else, rendering the scene weird and unfamiliar.  It was, indeed, a desolate view, the near-by land low, and without verdure, in many places overflowed, and the river itself sullen and angry.  Only that distant point appeared clearly defined and real, with the slowly brightening sky beyond.  I endeavored to arouse myself from stupor, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.  Rene had changed her posture, but still slumbered, with face completely concealed in her arms; but Sam was wide awake, and turned toward me grinning at my first movement.  He had a broad, good-humored face, and a row of prominent teeth, slightly shadowed by a very thin moustache.  Instinctively, I liked the fellow on sight—­he appeared both intelligent and trustworthy.

“Daylight, is it?” I said, speaking low so as not to awaken the girl.  “I must have been asleep.”

“Yas, sah; yer’s bin a noddin’ fer de las’ hour.  Ah wus ’bout ter stir yer up, sah, fer Ah reckon as how we’s mos’ dar.”

“Most where?” staring about incredulously.  “Oh, yes, Rassuer Creek.  Have we made that distance already?”

Sam’s teeth glittered in another expanding of his mouth.

“Wal’, we’s bin a goin’ et a mighty good gait, sah.  She ain’t done fooled none on me all dis night,” his hand laid lovingly on the engine.  “Nebber kicked up no row o’ no kind—­just chug, chug, chug right ’long.  ’Pears like she sorter know’d dis nigger hed ter git away.  Enyhow, we bin movin’ lon’ now right smart fer ‘bout four hours, an’ Rassuer Creek am just ’round dat p’int yonder—­Ah’s mighty sure ob dat, sah.”

He was right, but it was broad daylight when we reached there, the eastern sky a glorious crimson, and the girl sitting up, staring at the brilliant coloring as though it pictured to her the opening of a new world.  I was too busily engaged helping Sam at the wheel, for the swirl of the current about the headland required all our strength to combat it, and eagerly scanning the irregular shore line, to observe her closely in the revealing light; yet I knew that she had studied us both attentively from beneath her long lashes, before turning her head away.