le to pursue it without hesitancy.
Now and then only did I pause--partly to listen, and partly to rest my
companion, whose bosom heaved quick and high with the rude exertion.
But her glance testified that her courage was firm, and her smile
cheered _me_ on.

At length we entered among the cypress-trees that bordered the lake;
and, gliding around their massive trunks, soon reached the edge of the
water.

We approached the fallen tree; and, climbing up, advanced along its
trunk until we stood among its moss-covered branches.

I had provided myself with an instrument--a simple joint of the cane
which grew plenteously around, and which with my knife I had shaped
after a fashion I had been already taught by the Bambarra. With this I
could produce a sound, that would be heard at a great distance off, and
plainly to the remotest part of the lake.

Taking hold of the branches, I now bent down, until my face almost
touched the surface of the water, and placing the reed to my lips, I
gave utterance to the signal.

CHAPTER SEVENTY TWO.

THE SLEUTH-HOUNDS.

The shrill whistle, pealing along the water, pierced the dark aisles of
the forest. It aroused the wild denizens of the lake, who, startled by
such an unusual sound, answered it with their various cries in a
screaming concert. The screech of the crane and the Louisiana heron,
the hoarse hooting of owls, and the hoarser croak of the pelican,
mingled together; and, louder than all, the scream of the osprey and the
voice of the bald eagle--the last falling upon the ear with sharp
metallic repetitions that exactly resembled the filing of saws.

For some moments this commotion was kept up; and it occurred to me that
if I had to repeat the signal then it would not have been heard. Shrill
as it was, it could scarce have been distinguished in such a din!

Crouching among the branches, we remained to await the result. We made
no attempts at idle converse. The moments were too perilous for aught
but feelings of extreme anxiety. Now and then a word of cheer--a
muttered hope--were all the communications that passed between us.

With earnest looks we watched the water--with glances of fear we
regarded the land. On one side we listened for the plashing of a
paddle; on the other we dreaded to hear the "howl" of a hound. Never
can I forget those moments--those deeply-anxious moments. Till death I
may not forget them.

Every thought at the time--every incident, howeve