Shawnees or Miamis. What you
see are only bundles of sticks and skeletons. No bodies have been left
here in a long time, and the Indians think the island is haunted by the
ghosts of those who died and were left here long, long ago. That is why we
needed to keep no watch last night. I discovered this place on a hunting
trip, and I've always kept it in mind.

"Let's go back," said Paul, who did not like to look at this burying
ground in the air.

Henry laughed a little, but he did willingly as Paul requested, and when
they returned to the fire they found that Jim Hart, falling easily into
his natural position, had already cooked the venison. Paul's spirits at
once went up with a bound. The bright fire, the pleasant odor of the
venison, the cheerful faces of his comrades, and assured safety appealed
to his vivid imagination, and made the blood leap in a sparkling torrent
through his veins.

"Graveyard or no graveyard, I'm glad I'm here," he said energetically.

They laughed, and Shif'less Sol, who, as usual, had found the softest
place and had stretched himself upon it, said, with drawling emphasis:

"You're mighty right, Paul, an' I'm a'gin' movin' from here afore cold
weather comes. I'm pow'ful comf'table."

"If you don't git up an' stir aroun', how do you expect to eat?" said Jim
Hart indignantly. "We ain't got venison enough for more'n ten more meals."

"Henry an' Tom will shoot it, an' you'll cook it fur me," said Sol
complacently.

Jim Hart growled, but Henry and Ross were already discussing this question
of a food supply, and Paul listened.

"The Indians don't come about the lake much," said Henry, "and it will be
easy enough to find deer, but we must hunt at night. We mustn't let the
savages see us, as it might break the island's spell."

"We'll take the canoe and go out to-night," said Ross.

"And this lake ought to be full of fish," said Paul. "We might draw on it,
too, for a food supply."

"Looks likely," said Ross. "But we'd best not try that, either, till
dusk."

But they worked in the course of the day at the manufacture of their rude
fishing tackle, constructed chiefly of their clothing, the hooks being
nothing more than a rough sort of pin bent to the right shape. This done,
they spent the rest of the day in loafing and lolling about, although Paul
took a half hour for the thorough exploration of the island, which
presented no unusual features beyond those that he had already seen. After
th