t him, and trying to keep down the ghostly feeling that would
assail him at times. The island, so far as he could judge, was perhaps two
hundred yards long, half as broad, and thickly covered with forest. But he
could see nothing of the interior.

"Come," said Henry Ware, in the same tone of cheerful confidence, as he
led the way.

The others followed, stepping lightly among the great tree trunks, and
Henry did not stop until he came to a small, open space in the very center
of the island, where a spring bubbled up among some rocks, and flowed away
in a tiny brook in a narrow channel to the lake. The open space was almost
circular, and the great trees grew so thickly around that they looked like
a wall.

"Here is the place to rest," said Henry. "There is no need for anybody to
watch."

They lay down upon the ground, disposing themselves on the softest spots
that they could find. Paul stared up for a few moments at the great
circular wall of trees, and the weird, chilly sensation came again, but he
was too tired and sleepy to think about it long. In fifteen minutes he
slumbered soundly, and so did all the others. They lay with their faces
showing but faintly in the dusk, and as they lay in the sheltered cove a
soft wind breathed gently over them.

All were up early in the morning, and Paul was surprised to see Henry
lighting a fire with flint and steel.

"Why do you do that, Henry?" he said. "Will not the smoke give warning to
our enemies that we are here?"

"We shall send up but little smoke," replied Henry; "but if they should
see it, they will not come."

He went on with the fire, and Paul, although mystified, would not ask
anything more, too proud to show ignorance, and confident that anyhow he
would soon learn the cause of these strange proceedings. The fire was
lighted, and burned brightly, but cast off little smoke. Then Henry turned
to Paul.

"Let's go up to the north end of the island," he said.

It was a walk of but a few minutes, and Henry, stopping before they
reached the margin of the lake, said:

"Look up, Paul!"

Paul did so, and saw many dark objects in the forks of trees about him, or
tied to the boughs. They looked like shapeless bundles, and he did not
know what they were.

"A burying ground," said Henry, in answer to his inquiring look.

Paul felt the same weird little shiver that had assailed him the night
before.

"A burying ground!"

"Yes, but by some old, old tribe before the