the shining of the water of the river beyond, and thus we came down to the shore. My memory of the spot was hazy and uncertain, and I stared across at the black woods opposite, shading my eyes in an endeavor to distinguish some forgotten landmark.
"Have you ever crossed here?" I asked doubtfully. "I scarcely remember where the ford lies."
"Yes," she replied, leaning forward, "with my father a year ago. Benton came down and showed us the course; but I did not think much then of what he said. We took the water directly in front of the house, here at the end of the point, and—oh, yes; there was a dead tree with one great limb forking out on the other bank, we were to aim directly for. Can you see anything like that?"
I hollowed my hands and looked, but nothing along the opposite shore appeared with any distinctness—it was a mere blur of trees.
"Was the ford straight across?"
"I think slightly to the left; another point juts out there. See, the river is narrower right across in that direction," and she pointed. "I am sure we only partly met the current. There is something dark against the sky now; higher up above the tree line. I am not sure that is the dead limb, but it must be almost directly in line. Do you see what I mean?"
