"It may be so, possibly," rejoined Claud, doubtfully; "but, if there were any inhabitants near enough in that direction, I should think it must be—hark, there it is again! and, as I thought, the crowing of a rooster."
"A rooster! then it must be the echo of one, that has somehow struck across from Phillips' barn; but how could that be? Ah, I have just thought: your rooster must be Codman coming down the lake. You know how curiously he imitated that creature at the logging bee, don't you?"
"No; I happened to be in a noisy bustle in the house, just at the time of those queer performances of his, and heard them imperfectly. But, if the sound I heard was not that of a veritable rooster, I never was so deceived in my life respecting the character of a sound."
"Well, I think you will find I am right, but we will wait, listen, and see."
The event soon proved the truth of Mr. Elwood's conjecture. Suddenly a canoe, rounding a woody point a half-mile to the right, shot into view, and the old loud and shrill Kuk-kuk-ke-o-ho of Comical Codman rang far and wide over the waters to the echoing hills beyond. But, before Claud had sufficiently recovered from his surprise to respond to the triumphant "I told you so" of his father, the strange salute was answered by a merry, responsive shout of voices in the opposite direction; and presently two canoes, each containing two men, emerged into view from the fog hanging over the outlet, and, joining in a contest of speed, to which they seemed to perceive the single boatman was, by his movements, challenging them, rapidly made their way towards the understood goal of the landing.
"The race is run.
The vict'ry won!"
exclaimed the trapper, in his usual cheery tone and inimitable air of mock gravity, as he drew up his oar, to let the impulse of his last stroke send his canoe in to the shore of the landing, as it did, while the foremost of his competitors in the friendly race was yet fifty yards distant. "Mighty smart fellows, you!" he resumed, waggishly cocking his eye towards the hunter, who had charge of the boat most in advance. "What bright and early chaps, living only from two to five miles off, to let one who has ten miles to come be in first at the rendezvous!"
"Well, Codman, I suppose we must give in," responded the hunter. "But, to do all this, you must have risen long before day; how did you contrive to wake up?"
"Why, crowed like the house a-fire, and waked myself up, to be sure!" replied Codman, promptly. "How did you suppose I did it? But let that all go; I want to look you over a little. You have brought some new faces with you, this time, haven't you, Mr. Hunter?"
"Yes, here is one," answered Phillips, pointing to a tall, sandy-complexioned, but good-looking man of about thirty, who, having occupied the forward seat of the canoe, now quietly stepped ashore; "yes, gentlemen," added the hunter, addressing himself to the Elwoods, standing on the bank, as well as to the trapper, "I make you acquainted with Mr. Carvil,—a man, if I ain't a good deal out in my reckoning, who might be relied on in most any circumstances."