“Cur’us kind o’ place,” he said.  “Gives me a sort o’ shiver.”

Paul had felt the same sensation, but he said nothing.  Before them lay the little island, a solid, black blot, its trees blended together, and behind them the lake shone somberly in the growing darkness.

“All out!” said Henry cheerfully.  “This is home for a while, and we need rest.”

They sprang upon the narrow beach, and Henry and Ross dragged the canoe into some thick bushes, where they hid it artfully.  Paul meanwhile was looking about 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.