"I do know it," replied Nahma, taking the proffered arrow as he spoke and studying its make. "Also I should have recognized it sooner had I looked, but it fell in darkness, and since then I have been too busy to recall it until now."
"If this was the only style of arrow aimed at us," continued the Beaver, "those who pursue us must be friends, who have in turn mistaken us for enemies."
"It would seem so," agreed Nahma, in a mortified tone, "and it is to my shame that I should have shown so great stupidity."
"Take it not to heart, my brother. No warrior may learn his trade save by experience. What you have done has been well done, and no harm has come of it. Only now that we know those behind us to be friends, we must look sharply for enemies in front and see that our friends come not upon them unaware."
"Shall we not turn back at once," asked Nahma, "and give to Sacandaga a warning of the true state of affairs?"
"Not at once, but presently," replied the Beaver, "for we are even now close to the great waters of which I spoke. It will be well, therefore, if we take a look at them before turning back. We may thus have news to report that will cause him to rejoice at sight of us."
During this conversation Nahma had continued to paddle easily, and the canoe had glided gently forward with the current of a forest-shaded stream forming an outlet to the lake they had just traversed. As the Beaver concluded his remarks the roar of falling waters ahead of them gave warning that their farther progress in this direction was barred. So the canoe was left cunningly as though it had drifted to that place, and the two young scouts made their way through a mile-wide strip of forest to the shore of a second lake that lay behind. Here they gazed eagerly out over the wide water-way, but for a moment saw nothing unusual. As they were about to venture into the open, Nahma checked the movement with a guarded exclamation of amazement. A human figure had suddenly appeared on the crest of a headland that jutted into the lake a short distance from them, and for several seconds it stood motionless in the full light of the westering sun, as though spell-bound by the beauty of the outspread landscape.
Although it presented the form of man, it was unlike anything either of the astonished observers had ever seen. It appeared twice the size of an ordinary man, and at certain points it glinted in the sunlight with a sheen like that of rippling waters. Its head, upon which the sunlight also flashed, was of huge proportions and apparently devoid of hair.
"It is an Oki," whispered the Beaver, apprehensively. "A god of the waters. See you not how he shines with wetness?"
Even as the Beaver spoke, a second figure appeared for an instant beside the one at which the awe-stricken youths were gazing. It was that of a man like themselves, half-naked, painted, and bedecked with feathers. This last apparition plucked the other by the arm and they disappeared together.