One look and a loud murmur of disappointment broke from every lip.
What the dim twilight had hid, the firelight revealed in all its disheartening truth. What had been once a beautiful heap of valuable plumes, now lay an ugly mass of mildew and mould.
For a moment no one spoke, so keen was their disappointment. At last, Charley summoned up a feeble smile.
"Well, we are no worse off than we were before," he remarked with a voice that he endeavored to render cheerful.
"That's the way to take a disappointment, lad," said the captain, heartily. "A pound of meat is worth more to us now than a hundred pounds of plumes, anyway. Now, Chris, quit your grieving an' see if you can't rustle up some supper. I reckon we'll all feel better after a warm bite."
"What shall I do with them, Charley?" asked Walter, who had remained kneeling by the ruined treasure.
"Throw them away, they are valueless," exclaimed his chum somewhat testily, for his disappointment was almost more than he could bear cheerfully.
Walter lifted the leather box and disappeared in the darkness toward the water. He did not throw it into the stream, however, but after a moment's hesitation on the bank, descended to his canoe and, shoving his burden far up under the stern deck, retraced his steps to the fire.
In spite of their attempts at cheerfulness, the gloom of their disappointment hung heavy upon them, and it was rather a silent group that gathered in the wigwam after supper. Chris and the captain soon sought their beds and ere long their loud, regular breathing told that they had found solace for the disappointment of the day. The two boys felt too excited to sleep and sat long talking over their still perilous situation.
Suddenly, as on the other two nights, began the now familiar tolling of the mysterious bell.