were
full, and slept till they were empty again."

"H'm," rejoined Rolf, with a gentle laugh. "I see you also have been
doing some 'hair-trigger, steel-trap, cocksure jedgin'.'"

"I wonder if he'd like to hear some of my songs?"

"It's worth trying; anyway, I would," said Rolf.

That night, by the fire, Van sang the "Gay Cavalier," "The Hunting of
John Peel," and "Bonnie Dundee." He had a fine baritone voice. He was
most acceptable in the musical circles of Albany. Rolf was delighted,
Skookum moaned sympathetically, and Quonab sat nor moved till the music
was over. He said nothing, but Rolf felt that it was a point gained,
and, trying to follow it up, said:

"Here's your drum, Quonab; won't you sing 'The Song of the Wabanaki?'"
But it was not well timed, and the Indian shook his head.

"Say, Van," said Rolf, (Van Cortlandt had suggested this abbreviation)
"you'll never stand right with Quonab till you kill a deer."

"I've done some trying."

"Well, now, we'll go out to-morrow evening and try once more. What do
you think of the weather, Quonab?"

"Storm begin noon and last three days," was the brief answer, as the red
man walked away.

"That settles it," said Rolf; "we wait."

Van was surprised, and all the more so when in an hour the sky grew
black and heavy rain set in, with squalls.

"How in the name of Belshazzar's weather bugler does he tell?"

"I guess you better not ask him, if you want to know. I'll find out and
tell you later."

Rolf learned, not easily or at single talk:

"Yesterday the chipmunks worked hard; to-day there are none to be seen.

"Yesterday the loons were wailing; now they are still, and no small
birds are about.

"Yesterday it was a yellow sunrise; to-day a rosy dawn.

"Last night the moon changed and had a thick little ring.

"It has not rained for ten days, and this is the third day of easterly
winds.

"There was no dew last night. I saw Tongue Mountain at daybreak; my
tom-tom will not sing.

"The smoke went three ways at dawn, and Skookum's nose was hot."

So they rested, not knowing, but forced to believe, and it was not till
the third day that the sky broke; the west wind began to pay back its
borrowings from the east, and the saying was proved that "three days'
rain will empty any sky."

That evening, after their meal, Rolf and Van launched the canoe and
paddled down the lake. A mile from camp they landed, for this was a
favourite deer run. Very soon Rolf poin