d would brush along the bottom, and stooping low
I could hear a faint murmuring of the water under the bow: else all
was still. Then almost as by magic, we were encompassed by a huge
black ring. The surface of the lake, when we had reached the center,
was slightly luminous from the starlight, and the dark, even
forest-line that surrounded us, doubled by reflection in the water,
presented a broad, unbroken belt of utter blackness. The effect was
quite startling, like some huge conjurer's trick. It seemed as if we
had crossed the boundary-line between the real and the imaginary, and
this was indeed the land of shadows and of spectres. What magic oar
was that the guide wielded that it could transport me to such a realm!
Indeed, had I not committed some fatal mistake, and left that trusty
servant behind, and had not some wizard of the night stepped into his
place? A slight splashing in-shore broke the spell and caused me to
turn nervously to the oarsman: "Musquash," said he, and kept strait
on.

Nearing the extreme end of the pond, the boat gently headed around,
and silently we glided back into the clasp of that strange orbit.
Slight sounds were heard as before, but nothing that indicated the
presence of the game we were waiting for; and we reached the point of
departure as innocent of venison as we had set out.

After an hour's delay, and near midnight, we pushed out again. My
vigilance and susceptibility were rather sharpened than dulled by the
waiting; and the features of the night had also deepened and
intensified. Night was at its meridian. The sky had that soft
luminousness which may often be observed near midnight at this season,
and the "large few stars" beamed mildly down. We floated out into that
spectral shadow-land and moved slowly on as before. The silence was
most impressive. Now and then the faint yeap of some traveling bird
would come from the air overhead, or the wings of a bat whisp quickly
by, or an owl hoot off in the mountains, giving to the silence and
loneliness a tongue. At short intervals some noise in-shore would
startle me, and cause me to turn inquiringly to the silent figure in
the stern.

The end of the lake was reached, and we turned back. The novelty and
the excitement began to flag; tired nature began to assert her claims;
the movement was soothing, and the gunner slumbered fitfully at his
post. Presently something aroused me. "There's a deer," whispered the
guide. The gun heard, and f