The sun was just setting, and a rosy flush filled the western heavens. It seemed to fall softly upon mysterious Cedar Island, nestling there in the midst of the now tranquil waters.
Paul looked up with a smile, as he made room on the log for his chum, who had always been so willing to stand by him through thick and thin.
"Well, do you know, Jack," he spoke, "that was just exactly what seemed to strike me. I was staring hard at the island, and wondering if I had been asleep and dreamed all those queer happenings. Fact is, just before you spoke I even pinched my leg to see if I was really wide awake."
The other laughed at this.
"Oh! you're awake, all right, Paul," he remarked. "You seemed to get off without any show of damage to your good-looking face. As for the rest of us, if ever we begin to think we've been and dreamed it, we've got a remedy better than pinching. All we have to do is to bend down over a still pool of water and take a look at our faces. That'll convince us in a hurry we did have a lively time of it."
Paul pointed across the lake to where the island lay bathed in that wonderful afterglow that shone from the painted heavens.
"Did you ever see a prettier sight?" he asked. "It looks as peaceful as any picture could be. You wouldn't think a bunch of fellows could run up against such a lot of trouble over on such a fine little place as Cedar Island; would you, now?"
"I feel the same way you do, Paul; and I'd say we never ought to have left it, only after the flood it'd be a muddy place, and we wouldn't take any pleasure getting around."
"Oh! well," Paul rejoined cheerfully, "after all, perhaps it isn't our last visit up this way. Who knows but what we may have another chance to come over here and look around. It was a good scheme, I'm thinking, Jack, and we'll never be sorry we came."
"I should say not," remarked the other, quickly; "just turn around and take a look back into our camp. See where Professor Hackett is lying propped up with pillows from the boats. Well, suppose we'd never come over this way, what d'ye think would have happened to him? He says he owes his life to your skill, Paul, and that, try as they would, Mr. Jameson and the other assistants couldn't seem to stop the bleeding. That alone pays us for all we've gone through, Paul."