In the chase that ensued a wave of merriment burst loose. But time pressed, and the march was speedily resumed, with but a short interruption for lunch.
Late that afternoon they emerged on the shores of the other lake. It was a beautiful sheet of water, narrow and hemmed in by high hills which shot up abruptly on every side. At the far end could be seen a series of three peaks, jagged and sharp against the sky. The major turned to the professor, and both consulted the map and the translation of the cipher.
“When the ruby mound masks the Three Brothers take a course by the great dead pine. Four hundred to the west, three hundred to the north, and below the man of stone.”
Such were the words which the major read aloud from the professor’s translation.
“How do you interpret that, professor?” he asked.
“Why, plainly enough: the three brothers referred to are those three similar peaks,” said the professor; “the map indicates them. The ruby mound is not quite so clear. But I don’t doubt that we shall stumble across its meaning, and also that of ‘the man of stone,’ which, I confess, I cannot make out.”
“May be it’s some mass of rock that looks like a man,” volunteered Rob, who, like the others, had listened with eager attention while the major read.
“An excellent idea, my boy. That is possibly the correct meaning, although the old buccaneer may have spoken in riddles. Such men frequently did. However, we are at the gateway of our venture. To-morrow we shall know if it meets with success or failure.”
“To-morrow!” echoed the Boy Scouts.
“Ef ah could cotch dat five-hundred-dollah-pusson to-morrow dat would be all de treasure ah’d want,” mumbled Jumbo as he set down his canoe. He had kept it on his back up to now, like a shell on a black turtle.