Great Nor'-west.

The two men were not indeed ignorant of the fact that such songs were
sung by Canadian voyageurs--Maqua had even heard some of them hummed
once by the men of Muskrat House, when, a good while before, he had paid
a visit to that remote trading-post--but never before had father or son
listened to the songs sung in full chorus as they now heard them.

Spell-bound they waited until the sound of oars mingled with the
gradually strengthening song. Then their fingers closed convulsively
upon their weapons and they sprang up.

"What does my son think?"

"He thinks that the white man may be on the war-path, and it behoves the
red-man like the serpent to creep into the grass and lie still."

The elder savage shook his head.

"No, Mozwa. The white man never goes on the war-path, except to track
down murderers. When he goes through the land he travels as the
red-man's friend. Nevertheless, it is well to be on our guard."

As he spoke, the song, which had been increasing in strength every
moment, suddenly burst forth with great power in consequence of the boat
which bore the singers rounding a rocky point and coming into full view.

To sink into the grass, imitate the serpent and vanish from the scene,
was the work of a few seconds on the part of Maqua and his son.

Meanwhile the boat, which I need scarcely say was ours, came sweeping
grandly on, for the fineness of the evening, the calmness of the lake,
the splendour of the scene, and the prospect of a good supper, to be
followed by a good night's rest lent fresh vigour to the arms as well as
to the voices of our men.

"Hold on a bit, boys," cried Jack Lumley, standing up in the stern and
looking shoreward, "this seems a pretty good place to camp."

"There is a better place a few yards further on," said Big Otter, who
pulled the stroke oar. "I know every foot of the country here. It is a
soft--"

"What does Big Otter see?" asked Lumley, for the Indian had come to a
sudden stop, and was gazing earnestly ahead.

"He sees the smoke of a fire."

"Is it likely to be the fire of an enemy?"

"No--more like to be the camp of some of my people, but their wigwams
are two days beyond this lake. Perhaps hunters are out in this
direction."

"We shall soon see--give way, lads!" said Lumley, sitting down.

In a few minutes the boat was on the beach. We sprang ashore, and
hastened to the spot where a thin wreath of smoke indicated the remains
of a ca