"What boundless forests these are," said Ande, as they rested their horses on the summit of a steep declivity and gazed o'er the rolling mass of treetops. "No wonder Professor Bill was so oratorical. This is the famous country through which Armstrong marched his troops in 1756 against Shingas and Jacobs, the Shawnese chiefs of Kittanning, and near this section, no doubt farther south, poor grandfather lost his life. It was a fatal mistake." "Perhaps we shall find something in this section that will tell us of your grandfather." "If we do, it will be in connection with the Indian eldorado, spoken of by my father." They had pushed on rapidly and were now nearing the mouth of the Little Lycamahoning. The gleam of a great expanse of water between the trees ahead indicated their approach. "That must be the Big Lycamahoning of which Lark spoke." "Hist!" said Dick, "there are some wild geese on the big creek. Hear them gabble. There must be fully a score. It's fortunate we have our guns with us." They were now fairly in the outer shadow of the trees that o'erhung the trail, and the stream, swollen by the flood to three times its natural size, stretched before them three hundred yards in width. "You take the right of the group, and I'll take the left," whispered Ande. Simultaneously with the crack of their own guns another sounded from the midst of the willows that fringed the shore. There was a confused "Hank--Hank!" from the frightened birds as they rose in flight. A second later, a light canoe darted swiftly from the willows, and an aged hunter, its only occupant, gathered up the five or six birds that were slain, placed them in his canoe, and rapidly paddled up stream. All happened so quickly that the canoe with its aged occupant shot around a bend in the stream and disappeared from sight before Ande or his friend could say a word.