"They'll never do it," replied Jim Hart confidently. "Besides, they ain't got the least suspicion that we've come here. Likely, they think we've landed at the north end uv the lake, an' they'll be prowlin' aroun' thar three or four days lookin' fur us. Jest think, Paul, uv all the work they'll hev fur nothin'. I feel like laughin'. I think I will laugh."
He kept his word and laughed low; but he laughed long, and with the most intense pleasure.
"Jest to think, Paul," he continued, "how we're guarded by dead Injuns theirselves!"
Presently the two went into the hut, and slept soundly until the next morning. They did not light a fire then, but ate cold food, and went down among the trees to watch the lake. They saw nothing. The water rippled and glowed in alternate gold and silver under the brilliant sunshine, and the hills about it showed distinctly; but there was no sign of a human being except themselves.
"Lookin' fur us among the hills," said Jim Hart. "You an' me will jest keep close, Paul, an' we won't light no fire."
The whole day passed without incident, and the following night also, but about noon the next day, as they watched from the shelter of the trees, they saw a black dot on the lake, far to the south.
"A canoe!" said Jim Hart.
"A canoe? How did they get it?" said Paul—he took it for granted that its occupants were Miamis.
"Guess they brought it across country from some river, and thar they are," replied Jim Hart. "They've shore put a boat on our lake."
His tone showed traces of anxiety, and Paul, too, felt alarm. The Miamis, after all, might defy their own superstition and land on the island. Presently another canoe appeared behind the first, and then a third and a fourth, until there was a little fleet, which the two watched with silent apprehension. Had Henry Ware been mistaken? Did the Miamis really believe it was a haunted island?