Brought up in the forests of northern Maine, and seeing few persons excepting her uncle and Angelique, the Indian housekeeper, Margot Romeyn knows little of life beyond the deep hemlocks. Naturally observant, she is encouraged in her out-of-door studies by her uncle, at one time a college professor. Through her woodland instincts, she and her uncle are enabled to save the life of Adrian Wadislaw, a youth who, lost and almost overcome with hunger, has been wandering in the neighboring forest. To Margot the new friend is a welcome addition to her small circle of acquaintances, and after his rapid recovery she takes great delight in showing him the many wonders of the forest about her home. But finally, after many weeks, the uncle decides, because of reasons which will be known later, that it would be better for Margot if Adrian left them. Accordingly, he puts the matter before the young man, who, although reluctant to leave his new friends, volunteers to go. Under the guidance of Pierre Ricord, a young Indian, the lad sets out for the nearest settlement. The journey for the most part is made by water, and while attempting to shoot the rapids of the stream which they have been following their canoe is dashed against a rock and both occupants are thrown into the seething whirlpool. For an instant Adrian closed his eyes that he might not see the inevitable end. But--was it inevitable? At the logging camp he had heard of just such accidents as this and not all of them were fatal. The water in its whirling sometimes tossed that which it had caught outward to safety. He flung himself prone and extended the pole. Pierre’s body was making another circuit of that horrible pit, and when--if--should it? The drowning boy’s head was under the current, but his legs swung round upon its surface, faster and faster, as they drew nearer the centre. Then--a marvel! The long pole was thrust under the invisible arms, which closed upon it as a vise. “Hold! hold! I’ll pull you out!” But for the hard labor of the past few weeks, Adrian’s muscles could not have stood the strain. Yet they did, and as he drew the nearly senseless Pierre upon the rock beside himself, his soul went up in such glad thanksgiving as he had never known or might know again. A life saved. That was worth all things. For an hour they lay there, resting, recovering; then Pierre himself stood up to see what chance there was for a fuller deliverance. He was a very sober and altered Pierre, and his drenched clothing added to the forlornness of his appearance. “Nothing left but--us. Came nigh bein’ only you. Say, Adrian, I sha--shan’t forget it.” “How are we going to get ashore?” “’Tisn’t much harder ’n Margot’s stepping-stones. Done them times enough.” Again Adrian was grateful for his forest experience; but he asked with some anxiety: “Suppose you are strong enough to do it?” “Isn’t any supposin’ about it. Got to. Might as well died in the pool as starve on this rock.”