After that morning burst of song they all moved silently. The paddles made no sound. The dull colors of the boats themselves--some birch-bark canoes, some hollowed-out log pirogues--mingled like foliage with the shore line. The men in butternut brown or fur were mere shadows on the river. The woodland and its streams were swallowing up its wild men. By and by the two canoes with Francis Vigo and Doby in them were alone upon the river. "Look!" signaled Francis Vigo's eyes to Doby. A red deer was drinking on the brink. "Look!" A bear was at his bath. "Look!" A blue heron was fishing in the shallows. And a saucy kingfisher helped himself to a bite of the red haws stuck in Doby's cap, so much a part of the primeval vastness had they already become. Once, as they stopped for dinner on the shore, the odor of frying bacon was so delicious to some of the forest creatures that they had a glimpse of a mother wolf bringing her whole whelp family to take a peep at those men creatures who sometimes left such savory scraps behind, and who were, upon a pinch, not such bad eating themselves. "They like bacon cooked, but they would take me raw," and Doby was glad that he had a rifle of his very own. In the silence of their forest night camp, whilst the two voyageurs slept with their feet to the fire and the harvest moon looked down upon them through the Indian-summer haze, Francis Vigo explained to the boy the nature of his errand. "I am getting old," he said. "Time is too precious to waste in making money for myself. I must teach the Northwest the value of an honest currency, else all business will be ruined and our country fall into poverty." He showed Doby a package wrapped in oilskin. "This priceless paper did not go to Corydon with the documents of Indiana State. It is Government property and must be secretly delivered to the proper agent at Fort Wayne, to go on to Washington. We should have safe banks and vaults for such moneys and papers. They should not be exposed to the mercy of fire and water and chance journeys as this one is. I must use this as an argument to those in authority for the need of national banks. I shall also prove to them the demand for a tariff to protect our industries. These are our present necessities." "The tariff is to make us money and the banks are to guard it," said Doby, who knew that these two vital measures were expected to influence the fate of the great valley as much as any war had ever done. "So you want to get there before election. And you want them to vote for James Monroe for President, don't you?" "Yes; because as Secretary of State and as Secretary of War he carried us through the war, we now need him to take us over the financial crisis which always follows a war." All Saints' Day came in glorious October sunshine. On that day they entered Fort Wayne. Again in velvet, with gleaming sword, Francis Vigo made ready for an audience.