part, the
influence of the Seneca's legend, united to the opinions and statements
of the inhabitants of that region, which conspired to make our traveler
start, in awe and surprise; for, certainly, the deep-mouthed cannon
never gave forth a more impressive and sudden concussion on the ear.

"It does, indeed, sound very like a gun!" said Fuller, after a long
pause had enabled him to speak.

"It is the voice of the Great Spirit, forbidding See-wise to fish,"
answered the Seneca. "For a time the demagogue has all the talking to
himself, but, sooner or later, the voice of truth is heard, which is
the voice of the Manitou. But I must go nearer to the tree--ha! what
has become of it?"

Fuller looked, and, sure enough, the speck on the water had vanished.
This might have been by an unobserved movement in a current; or it
might have been owing to a sudden variation in the light; certain it
was, no tree could now be seen. Fuller then proposed to use his boat,
in endeavoring to get nearer to the "Jew." The Seneca gave a very
cheerful assent, and, throwing his light summer blanket, with an air of
manly grace, over a shoulder, he followed to the water-side.

"Most red men," resumed the young warrior, as he took his place in the
boat, "would see something marvelous in this appearance and
disappearance of the swimming Seneca, and would hesitate about going
any nearer to him; but this is not my feeling--error is strengthened by
neglecting to look into truth. I hope yet to go near See-wise."

Fuller hardly knew what to think of his companion's credulity. At times
he appeared to defer to the marvelous and the traditions of his tribe;
then, again, the lights of education would seem to gleam upon the
darkness of his superstition, and leave him a man of inductive reason.
As for himself, he was probably not altogether as much of the last as
his pride of race would have led him to hope.

Peter had seen nothing, but he had heard the "Gun."

"'T was a mere flash in the pan to what I have heard, when the lake is
in 'arnest," said the old fellow, with the love of exaggeration so
common with the vulgar. "Still, it was a gun."

"A signal that the 'Wandering Jew' is near by; so, haul aft the sheets,
and let us depart."

In a quarter of an hour the boat was lying with her foresheet hauled
over, and her helm down, within a hundred yards of the object of the
long search of the whole party. It was deep water, and a slight ripple
under what m