The Devil's Own

The morning was one of deep-blue sky and bright sunshine, the soft spring air vocal with the song of birds. Below, extended a magnificent vista of the river, fully a mile wide from shore to shore, spreading out in a sheet of glittering silver, unbroken in its vast sweep toward the sea except for a few small, willow-studded islands a mile or two away, with here and there the black dot of an Indian canoe gliding across the surface.