They arrived at Hunter Tom's cabin and dismounted. The horses were hobbled and turned out to graze in the clearing. Tom, hearing the noise, opened the door, and cheerfully welcomed them within. The hunter was clothed in his customary fringed buckskin and home-made moccasins, but in his belt, in addition to the usual hunting knife, was a small Indian tomahawk. "Why, Tom, one would think ye were on the warpath," said the pilot, jokingly. "Aye, and a warpath it may prove," soberly, and then seeing the look of the pilot concentrated on the tomahawk in his belt: "This tomahawk I secured in the Indian country of the Ohio in 1812. It is an effective weapon." "But surely you don't expect a fight," said Dick. The old man shook his hoary locks mysteriously and muttered, "The Shawnese." By the light of the turnip lamp the pilot brought forth his map and spread it out on the rough wooden table. The hunter scanned it approvingly, and then: "Where did ye get it, Hugh?" The pilot related his experience with the Canadian Indian, and the hunter nodded his head as the pilot repeated the Indian legend and directions. "I know the place so well that ye have no need of a map." "Ye ken the place without a map?" said Hugh. "Aye! haven't I searched for it full eighteen years ago, and ten years ago, before there was a settler in the region; I hunted until I was weary. If ye find no more success than I found, ye will have your labour for your pains. But we can try. The place where we will land is there." The hunter placed his knotty finger on a portion of the map. All crowded around the table. The old hunter's finger was placed on the map at the mouth of a small stream. A moment passed in silent contemplation. "And now we must be off if we would do much to-night." The old hunter's words aroused all to action. A couple of pickaxes, a shovel and a crowbar, that were in readiness, were shouldered by the pilot, and Dick, at the hunter's suggestion, took up an old tin lantern, pierced with holes and having a candle within, to be used in an emergency. The hunter carefully extinguished the turnip lamp and drawing the door shut behind him led the way to the canoe. The tools were placed in the stern and then the pilot, followed in regular sequence by the hunter, Dick and Ande, took their stations, and soon under the steady sweep of four stout paddles the canoe, though heavily laden, glided up stream.