“Then you believe that there is a canoe ahead of us going with the current?”

“An hour ahead — less, I think.”

“Why an hour?”

“The sun is low; the river boulders are not hot. Water might dry on them in an hour or less. These drops were nearly dry, save one or two where the sun made them shine.”

“A careless paddle-stroke did it,” I said in a low voice.

“No Indian is careless.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, Loskiel, that the boulder was splashed purposely, or that there are white men in that canoe.”