Where all before was dark, the morning twilight began to show the black forms of things.
The outlines of tree trunks could be seen, and they seemed to stand like ghosts, reaching out shadowy arms, as if feeling their way through the dimness.
The birds which through the long night had slept in the low bushes were beginning to chirp and flutter.
All at once, Old Rocks started and clutched Frank's arm.
"Listen!" he whispered.
The sound of footsteps told them some one was approaching.
"Back!" whispered the guide, leading the way. "We must see who ther critter is, an' he musn't see us."
Hastily they drew into the deep shadows, holding their rifles ready for use in case they should need them.
Nearer and nearer came the footsteps, and then the dark figure of a man appeared, advancing through the dusky darkness.
The man was alone, and he halted on the shore of the lake, within a short distance of the crouching man and boy. They saw him bow his head on his breast and stand there in silence.