and
the current, which last happened to be sluggish, as the river at this
part spread over a wide expanse of level land. The canoe was evidently
catching up, and each stroke was bringing the pursuers nearer to the
pursued.

After a few minutes' brisk pulling, the trumpeter had lost so much
ground that he was not two hundred yards in the advance, and "dead
ahead." His body was no longer carried with the same gracefulness, and
the majestic curving of his neck had disappeared. His bill protruded
forward, and his thighs began to drag the water in his wake. He was
evidently on the threshold of flight. Both Francois and Basil saw this,
as they stood with their guns crossed and ready.

At this moment a shrill cry sounded over the water. It was the scream
of some wild creature, ending in a strange laugh, like the laugh of a
maniac!

On both sides of the river there was a thick forest of tall trees of the
cotton-wood species (_Populus angustifolia_). From this forest the
strange cry had proceeded, and from the right bank. Its echoes had
hardly ceased, when it was answered by a similar cry from the trees upon
the left. So like were the two, that it seemed as if some one of God's
wild creatures was mocking another. These cries were hideous enough to
frighten any one not used to them. They had not that effect upon our
voyageurs, who knew their import. One and all of them were familiar
with the voice of the _white-headed eagle_!

The trumpeter knew it as well as any of them, but on him it produced a
far different effect. His terror was apparent, and his intention was
all at once changed. Instead of rising into the air, as he had
premeditated, he suddenly lowered his head, and disappeared under the
water!

Again was heard the wild scream and the maniac laugh; and the next
moment an eagle swept out from the timber, and, after a few strokes of
its broad wing, poised itself over the spot where the trumpeter had gone
down. The other, its mate, was seen crossing at the same time from the
opposite side.

Presently the swan rose to the surface, but his head was hardly out of
the water when the eagle once more uttered its wild note, and, half
folding its wings, darted down from above. The swan seemed to have
expected this, for before the eagle could reach the surface, he had gone
under a second time, and the latter, though passing with the velocity of
an arrow, plunged his talons in the water to no purpose. With a c