When he put his hand to the cramped neck muscle and moved to escape the bedazzling sun reflection, the changed point of view gave him a shock. Sitting with her back to a tree at a little distance was a strange young woman - strange in the sense that he was sure he had never seen her before. Like himself, she had evidently just awakened, and she was staring at him out of wide-open, slate-gray eyes. In the eyes he saw a vast bewilderment comparable to his own, some thing of alarm, and a trace of subconscious embarrassment as she put her hands to her hair, which was sadly tumbled.
Prime scrambled to his feet and said, Good morning - merely because the conventions, in whatever surroundings, die hard. At this the young woman got up, too, patting and pinning the rebellious hair into subjection.
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Our Hero and Our Heroine awake, at the beginning of the novel, on a lake-shore. Neither of them has ever previously seen the other, or the lake-shore. Nor have they any idea how they got there; the last they knew, they were in Quebec (though not in the same part of it). Someone seems to care for their well-being, however, as they quickly find food and some basic supplies cached nearby. They rapidly come to the conclusion that a friend of Our Hero is responsible for their predicament, based on the fact that said friend is addicted to practical joking. And they can think of no other reason for what has happened.
In due course, they set off in search of civilisation. The finding of a birch-bark canoe and a load of stores helps. The fact that neither of them has the slightest clue when it comes to outdoors-ness does not (no Boy Scouts or Camp-Fire Girls here). But they muddle along, learning as they go, more or less hampered by rapids, near-drowning (Our Hero), dead bodies, mysterious but dangerous fever (Our Heroine), arrest (for causing the dead bodies), and eventually rescue by the afore-mentioned practical joking friend. Who can think of nothing more useful to do than laugh uproariously as they upbraid him.
It was, of course, not the friend who marooned them. The entire affair turns out to be a remarkably idiotic attempt to keep them from claiming a pair of useful inheritances.
The book also, interestingly, demonstrates that a version of the Nigerian Scam dates back to at least the early years of the 20th century. Our Hero has seen a personal ad requesting heirs of soandso to get in contact, but dismisses it as "the old leg-pull [...] The swindle is so venerable that it ought to have whiskers by this time. Every once in a while a rumor leaks out that some great estate has been left in England, or somewhere else across the water, with no native heirs. You or I, if we happen to have a family name that fits in, are invited to contribute to a sum which is being made up to pay the cost of establishing the rights of the American descendants, and there you are. I suppose hundreds of thousands of dollars have been buncoed out of credulous Americans in that way, first and last."