The sparks from the burning logs zigzagged upwards
into a sky brilliant with stars. It was all wonderfully still and
peaceful, and the forest odours floated to us on the sharp autumn air.
The cedar fire smelt sweet and we could just hear the gentle wash of
tiny waves along the shore. All was calm, beautiful, and remote from the
world of men and passion. It was, indeed, a night to touch the soul, and
yet, I think, none of us heeded these things. A bull-moose might almost
have thrust his great head over our shoulders and have escaped
unnoticed. The death of Jake the Swede, with its sinister setting, was
the real presence that held the centre of the stage and compelled
attention.
"You won't p'raps care to come along, Mister," said Morris, by way of a
beginning; "but I guess I'll go with one of the boys here and have a
hunt for it."
"Sure," said Hank. "Jake an' I done some biggish trips together in the
old days, and I'll do that much for'm."
"It's deep water, they tell me, round them islands," added Silver Fizz;
"but we'll find it, sure pop,--if it's thar.
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