From somewhere in the gloomy solitude came a low quavering monotone that had a most uncanny sound in the weird midnight. The youths never before had heard anything of the kind, and the bravest men would have been impressed by it.

Larry, in his fright, sprang to his feet, and would have fled deeper into the woods, but his companion caught his arm and whispered:

"Wait; let's find out what it is."

"Havn't I told ye!" demanded the other with husky impatience; "it's a ghost—it's a hobgoblin."

"But hold on, I say; keep still."

They made sure that they were well protected by shadow, while they waited for a solution of the extraordinary occurrence.

The monotone chant resembled the lower notes of an organ played softly, and with a rise and fall of no more than two or three notes. It was a wild song, which came from some point not far away, though neither could say precisely where. At times it seemed to be overhead, and Wharton caught himself looking into the sky and among the tree-tops for a solution of the mystery. It had a way of ceasing at the end of a minute or two for several seconds, and then was resumed with the same unvarying monotone.

"It's coming this way!" whispered Larry, gripping the shoulder of his companion and attempting to rise again; but Wharton forced him back, though he felt very much like plunging in among the trees himself.

"If it's a ghost he can't hurt us."

"How do you know he can't? I tell ye he's coming this way!"

"What makes you say that?"

"Because I see him; look beyant, right across the lake—don't ye obsarve him?"

Until that moment Wharton had no thought that his friend saw anything—but he did. Directly across from where they were seated, and under the shadow of the opposite bank, where the waters narrowed preparatory to entering the gorge, so that the distance was barely a hundred yards, appeared a point of light. It looked like a star gliding along the shore and keeping in the shadow, so that the fiery glow was all that was visible to the eye.

This of itself was not the form which ghosts are supposed to take, but it was in keeping with the dismal monotone, which sent a cold shiver down their backs. Wharton was more than ever inclined to run, but with a courage that was rather unusual he resolutely held his ground, and forced his companion to do the same.

"I'm going to find out what it is," he said in a guarded undertone, "before I leave this spot."

"All right; when the spook jumps on us and we are dead ye'll learn how much more I know than yersilf."

"Sh!"

Something was seen to be issuing from the wall of shadow. The point of light was a part of the object which was moving slowly, while the strange sound continued. The boys were straining their eyes to learn what it was, when, at the same moment, they recognized it as the prow of a canoe, which was leaving the bank of shade and coming out upon the moonlit surface of the lake.

Neither spoke, and the next moment the whole boat became visible. In the bow burned a torch, and well back toward the stern sat an Indian. He faced the boys, and as he swung his paddle, first on one side and then on the other, he emitted the strange chanting sounds that had so startled the lads when first heard by them.

The proceeding was so unusual that Wharton knew that it was produced by some extraordinary cause. It suggested that the red man was mourning for some of his friends who had perished and been buried in the lake. The youths had never heard an Indian "death song," and they knew, when a warrior chanted it, it was generally when his own death was at hand; but it would have been nothing remarkable had this Shawanoe sung it for another.

But amid their affright one startling truth impressed itself upon the awed spectators: the strange Indian, in heading across the narrow space of water, was placing himself in the control of the torrent which rushed between the rocks with prodigious impetuosity. In fact, it looked as if it was his intention to shoot the rapids despite the peril involved.

"That ghost is going straight for the falls," said Larry, "and whin he reaches them he'll glide over the same without wetting a hair of his head."

But now took place a thing worth travelling many a mile to see. Never did the youths witness such marvellous skill in managing a canoe as this strange Indian displayed. Combined with that was a strength and quickness no less wonderful.

The frail boat was already moving with the sweep of waters which only a few rods away shot between the rocks, when the slowly swaying paddle was dipped deep into the water, and changed from side to side in bewildering rapidity. The sensitive craft responded so promptly that the prow turned outward again, and headed toward a point considerably above the spectators.

It was amazing work, but neither of the spectators believed he could succeed until he did so. It was like a man paddling from the centre of a vast whirlpool. That which seemed impossible was accomplished before the struggle seemed fairly begun.

From the mouth of the canyon itself the warrior forced his canoe, until the youths saw that the danger was passed and he was gaining on the tremendous torrent. Having crossed the middle portion, he now headed toward the other extremity of the lake, and thus fought his way directly against the swift current.

Had this task been given to either Wharton or Larry, they could not have succeeded, even with the most desperate exertion; but to the warrior it seemed only a pastime. With hardly half the exertion he had put forth a few minutes before, he moved against the rush with an even certainty that ended all thought of danger.

"It beats all!" whispered Larry, amazed and delighted by the exhibition. "I never observed the like. Do you think he would take it kindly if I threw my cap in the air and gave him a hurrah?"

"I don't think he would be offended, but it is better to go down and shake him by the hand."

No earthly inducement could have led Larry to do this, and Wharton knew that if he indulged in a hurrah he would instantly take to the woods. He hadn't the remotest idea of doing either.

"Whist! do ye note what the spook is at?"

The other did observe that the prow of the canoe was turned sharply to the left, and the question was hardly uttered when it touched the shore almost at their feet.