They had glided past one side of the rookery and were near this dark opening when an exclamation of surprise came from Frank Merriwell's lips.
"Phat is it, me b'y?" asked Barney, quickly.
"A canoe."
"Phere?"
"See it yonder."
"Yes, Oi see it now. It's white."
"There must be other hunters near at hand," said the professor.
"The canoe is not drawn up to the bank," said Frank, in a puzzled way. "It seems to be floating at some distance from the shore."
"Perhaps it is moored out there."
"Why should it be moored in such a place? There are no tides here, and alligators are not liable to steal canoes."