"There it comes!" breathed Lub, who was holding his breath, and consequently getting, frightfully red in the face.
They could see the raised prow of what looked to be a genuine birch bark canoe poke in sight. In these modern days when even the Indians up in Maine manufacture up-to-date canvas canoes by the thousand, it is a rare event to run across one made of birch bark. The trees that are large enough for the purpose have about all been destroyed, so the Indians claim, which accounts for the revolution in canoes.
Further and further moved the boat. Now half of its length was seen, then two-thirds, and finally the stern had passed the end of the point. The three watchers could now see that it was being softly driven by a paddler who sat in the stern, and wielded a single blade.
All of them stared, and Lub, strange to say was the first to find utterance so as to voice his surprise.
"Why, Phil, Ethan, don't you see who it is?" he ejaculated; "who but our chum, X-Ray Tyson, sitting there as big as life, and heading straight toward us! Where under the sun d'ye reckon he found that canoe; and whose can it be?"
CHAPTER VIII
THE MOUNTAIN BOYS IN CAMP
"Whoopee! Hello, X-Ray, where'd you pick it up?"