As for Neal Farrar, this was his first attempt at playing the part of
midnight hunter; and I am bound to say that--being English born and
city bred--he found the situation much too mystifying for his peace of
mind.
He knew that the canoe was moving, moving rapidly; for giant pines along
the shore, looking solid and black as mourning pillars, shot by him as
if theirs were the motion, with an effect indescribably weird. Now and
again a gray pine stump, appearing, if the light struck it, twice its
real size, passed like a shimmering ghost. But he felt not the slightest
tremor of advance, heard no swish or ripple of paddle.
A moisture oozed from his skin, and gathered in heavy drips under the
brim of his hat, as he began to wonder whether the light bark skiff was
working through the water at all, or skimming in some unnatural way
above it. For the life of him he could not settle this doubt. And,
fearful of balking the expedition by a stir, he dared not turn his head
to investigate the doings of his comrade, Cyrus Garst.
Cyrus, though also city bred, was an American, and evidently an old hand
at the present business.
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