Tony’s excitement was great, but the effect of his late training was seen in the suppression of all feeling, save that which escaped through the eyes. Paint and charcoal concealed the flush on his cheeks effectually.
“Tonyquat sees,” he replied.
Victor received this with a loud laugh, but Tony, although annoyed, did not lose his dignity, which the red man in the stern of the canoe observed with a look of pride and satisfaction.
Michel Rollin, in the other canoe, close alongside, was observed to hold up his hand.
“Hush!” he said, turning his head as if to listen. “I do hear someting—someting not meloderous.”
“Is it melliferous, then?” asked Vic, with a smile.
But Rollin made no reply. He was far from jesting, poor fellow, at that moment. The thought of his old mother and grandfather, and fears as to their fate, weighed heavily on his heart, and took all the fun out of him.
“It sounds like pigs,” said Ian.
“Oui. Dey be killin’ porkers,” said Rollin, with a nod, as he dipped his paddle again and pushed on.
As they drew near, the excitement of the voyagers increased, so did their surprise at the prolonged and furious shrieking. Gradually the vigour of their strokes was strengthened, until they advanced at racing speed. Finally, they swept round the corner of the old house at Willow Creek, and burst upon the gaze of its inhabitants, while Peegwish and the pig were at the height of their struggles.