--{ TO CARIBOO AND BACK }--

“Sounded like a paddle,” Jim said, and
Jacques nodded agreement.

“Well, it’s stopped now, so I presume it
was something else, a bird perhaps,” said the
professor, watching Jacques as he rose from
his place and shaded his eyes with his hand
to look across the water, which was so smooth-
flowing beside their camp that it hardly seemed
to move. Nothing was to be seen but a lovely
red glow of sunset reflection, so Jacques sat
down again with a shrug, and the singing was
resumed.

Shadows fell deeper and darker as lively
songs in which all the groups joined filled the
air. It was the pleasantest evening they had
had for a long time.

No one saw a head appear over the edge of

the bank for a mere moment, and then seem to
be effaced in the outline of a black log lying
on the bank. No one noticed either that the
log, unlike other logs, changed its place from
time to time by an imperceptible motion, but
always in the direction of one particular group
around one particular fire.

The last hymn, Betty’s favorite, had been
started and the spirit of solemn calm contained

[165]

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Pee ae poe Se ee Sa

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