PHANTOM FALLS. 145 



under this very pine, and that during the night 

 I saw something off the camp which was n't 

 human ! " 



" So that was wliat you were muttering about, 

 was it, John, when we were running in ? " I re- 

 sponded. " Give us the story, as you promised ; this 

 is the \'ery night and phice to hear a ghost-story. 

 I can ahnost catch the soft, cat-like tread of old 

 Indian warriors gliding through the shadows, and 

 the dip of unseen paddles along the motionless 

 water. So go ahead, Jolm ; give us the whole 

 story, and take your own time for it." 



" Well, it won't take long," replied John ; " and I 

 would like to know what you think of it, anpvay. 

 The story which the old trappers tell is this : — 



" ' The tribe of Indians that once hunted around 

 the shores of this lake, and over these mountains, 

 was called the Neamski. It was a branch of 

 the great Huron family, and their chief was 

 Xeosko, which means thunder-cloud, or some such 

 thing. Well, this chief had a daughter, Wisti by 

 name. The French called her the Balsam, because 

 of the richness of her dark beauty. This girl fell 

 in love with a young Frenchman, a Jesuit priest, 

 whom the missions in Canada had sent down to 

 this tribe to convert them. Her love, it seems, 

 was returned with ardor, and here in this little 

 cove they were wont to hold their nightly tryst. 

 At last the young priest, impelled by his passioi' 



