ressing than Ned and Jack did, though hampered more or less in the
operation by the darkness.

They had been very careful to remember just where their guns had been
placed, so that as soon as they donned clothes it was easy to snatch up
these weapons, after which they burst out of the tent.

The fire was beginning to revive, showing that some one must have tossed
fresh fuel upon the smouldering logs. One glance that way told Ned
several hours must have elapsed since he lay down, and that it was even
now long after midnight. He would have been able to tell within an hour
what time of night it was, had he been given a few seconds to look up at
the heavens to note the position of the new stars in sight.

CHAPTER III.

WAS IT A SPY?

The other fellows were coming crawling out from the larger tent when Ned
and Jack reached the open air. All of them were carrying guns, as though
laboring under an impression that the camp must be assailed by a rival
force.

They found the two guides standing there, and peering out toward a
certain quarter. Both were too old hands at this sort of thing to show
the least sign of excitement, but Jimmy made up for any lack on their
part.

"For the love of Mike where's the invader now? Did he trample all over
you, Francois, and is that the brand of his cloven hoof on your hunting
shirt now? Was it the same old bull moose, or a new kind of muskeg
giant, as big as a church? Show him to me, and see how quick I'll bowl
the critter over!"

"Keep still, will you, Jimmy, and let Ned do the talking," advised Jack.

"What did you fire at, Francois?" asked Ned, turning to the guide, for
somehow he seemed to naturally guess that it was the French Canadian who
had done the shooting, possibly because his voice had been heard raised
in a challenge.

"Man, at all I know, sare," replied the other, still looking out into
the semi-gloom wistfully.

"I heard you call out loud enough, just as you said you would do," Ned
continued; "and instead of answering, did he turn and run away?"

"Zat is just what happen," replied the guide. "He act mooch like ze spy,
and so I give heem ze shot."

"Do you think you hit him, Francois?" demanded Frank.

The other rolled up his shoulders, and made the usual "face" as he
answered:

"I do not know for sure, sare. Ze light it was mos' uncertain like. I
aim down low as I pull ze trigger. Zen he disappear, and I am unable to
say if so be he drop down just to s