"So the boat's brawny crew the current stem And, slow advancing, struggle with the stream; But if they slack their hands or cease to strive, Then down the flood with headlong haste they drive." --_Dryden_. It was still early dawn when Hugh Lark reached the hunter's cabin. Hunter Tom was cleaning his rifle and before the door was a pot of lead melting o'er a slow fire. A bullet mould was lying near by ready for use. "Halloo, Tom!" said Hugh, as he dismounted. "Good-morning," said the old hunter, a little curtly and yet with some dignity, for he liked not the unceremonious manner of Hugh, though Hugh was the only intimate acquaintance he had resident in the neighbourhood. "Going hunting?" "No," said the old hunter, a little more friendly. "I was down the creek and saw some Shawnese." "Why, ye don't expect a brush with them in these days of peace?" "I tell ye," said the old man, testily, "those were the enemies of my father and, peace or no peace, I trust them not unless I have Brown Bess ready and a quantity of powder and ball nigh at hand," and he continued his polishing and oiling. "Well, we have some work and we would like to have ye along, if ye can go." The old man made room for him on the rude bench, and looked at him inquiringly. Hugh related the purposed expedition. "And ye think there is a silver mine, and ye want me to help find it, and if I do I go fair shares?" "Aye," and Hugh nodded. "Ye see there are two young chaps, travellers, prospectors; they say they know ye----" "Aye! ye mean the English travellers, Mr. Ande and Mr. Dick." "Well, ye see they are prospectors and know the real stuff when they see it." "So they told me," said the old man, nodding. "Well, we want ye to go along and use your big canoe. I calculate between your intimate knowledge of the section and their prospecting science and my divining rod that we can get at the bottom of this. To-night will be full moon and we would like to start from your place for up stream about eight o'clock." "Aye," said the old hunter, but he looked a bit dubious when Hugh mentioned the divining rod. Hugh was a firm believer in the accuracy of the rod that he had constructed. It was witch-hazel, curiously carved and with a bit of silver at the end of it. The principle, according to Hugh's statement, was like attracted like. "Well, I'll go," said the old man, after some thought. "I warn ye, though, to take your guns with ye, for the Shawnese are here." "Oh, they'll give us no trouble, but we'll take our guns. There may be a chance of shooting a deer or so," said Hugh as he departed. The old man shook his head, forebodingly, as Hugh's form disappeared down the trail. On his way back to Burgtown the pilot met the Shawnese, a full fifteen in number, great, strong, athletic fellows, but beyond a brief, cursory "Howdy!" and a glance they passed on. * * * * *