“Yes, quite distinctly. What is it?” “That belongs to the chief, and might properly enough be called his summer-house, as he generally comes here with his family to spend the hot months. He raises fine crops of corn in his clearing on there beyond the house, and saves it all, because the bears, coons, and squirrels, that trouble him elsewhere, are so completely fenced out by the surrounding water.” “Are the family there, now?” “No; they have moved back to his principal residence, a mile or two distant, on a point of land over against the opposite side of this island, and not far out of our course.” “Indeed! what say you, then, to giving them a call as we pass by?” “We shall not have time, which is a good reason for not calling now, if there were not still stronger ones.” “What stronger reasons, or what other reasons at all?” “Well, perhaps there are none. But, supposing two of the company we left behind, who might happen to conceive they have some secret interest at stake, should ever suspect that your leading object in leaving them was to make the very visit you are now proposing, would you not prefer that we should have it in our power to set their minds at rest, when we join them to-night, by telling them all the places we _did_ touch at?” “It is possible I should, in such a case,” replied Claud, looking surprised and puzzled; “but, ‘suspected,’ did you say? _Why_ should they suspect? and what if they do?” “Three questions in a heap, when one is more than I could wisely attempt to answer,” evasively answered the cautious hunter. “But you must have some reasons for what you said,” persisted the other. “Reasons founded upon guesses are poor things to build a statement on,” rejoined the hunter. “Half the mischief and ill-feeling in the world comes from statements so made. And, guessing aloud is often no better. I rather think, all things considered, we had better not stop at the chief’s, this time. I can show you where he lives, as we pass; and, if that will do, we will now handle oars, and be on our way.” Much wondering at the enigmatical words of the other, Claud, without further remark, put in his oar and thoughtfully rowed on, till they had passed round the head of the island; when, on the indication of the hunter, they stretched away towards a distant promontory, on the northeastern shore of the lake. A steady and vigorous rowing of half an hour brought them within a few hundred yards of the headland, for which they had been steering; when the hunter lifted his oar, and said: