122 Ways of Wood Folk. 



down in a bay below a grassy point., where the dark 

 shadows of the eastern shore reach almost across, a 

 dark object is lying silent and motionless on the lake. 

 Its side seems gray and uncertain above the water ; 

 at either end is a dark mass, that in the increasing 

 light takes the form of human head and shoulders. 

 A bark canoe with two occupants is before us ; but 

 so still, so lifeless apparently, that till now we thought 

 it part of the shore beyond. 



There is a movement in the stern ; the pro- 

 found stillness is suddenly broken by a frightful 

 roar : M-ivah-iih ! M-waah-2'ih ! M-iv-iud^a-a-d^a ! The 

 echoes rouse themselves swiftly, and rush away con- 

 fused and broken, to and fro across the lake. As 

 they die away among the hills there is a sound from 

 the canoe as if an animal were walking in shallow 

 water, splash, splash, splash, klop / then silence again, 

 that is not dead, but listening. 



A half-hour passes ; but not for an instant does 

 the listening tension of the lake relax. Then the 

 loud bellow rings out again, startling us and the 

 echoes, though we were listening for it. This lime 

 the tension increases an hundredfold; every nerve 

 is strained ; every muscle ready. Hardly have the 

 echoes been lost when from far up the ridges comes 

 a deep, sudden, ugly roar that penetrates the woods 

 like a rifle-shot. Again it comes, and nearer! Down 



