A third time it surged up, and ended abruptly in a wild, ear-splitting roar, which struck the tops of distant hills, and rolled off in thunder-like echoes among them.

Silence followed.  Not a gasp came from Herb after his efforts.  Cyrus and the Farrars tried to still their heaving chests, while each quick breath was an expectation.

An answer!  Surely it was an answer!  The boys never doubted it; though the responding sound they caught was only a repetition of that far-away chopping noise, which resembled the heavy thud of an axe against wood.  This came nearer—­nearer.  It was followed once by a sort of short, sharp bark.

Then the motionless occupants of the boat heard random, guttural grunts, a smashing of dead branches, crashing of undergrowth, and the proud ring of mighty antlers against the trees.  The lord of the forest, a big bull-moose, was tearing recklessly through the woods towards the lake, in answer to the call of his imaginary mate.

To say that the hearts of our trio were performing gymnastic feats during these awfully silent minutes of waiting, is to say little.  All the repressed motion of their bodies seemed concentrated in these organs, which raced, leaped, stopped short, and pounded, vibrating to such questions as:—­

“Will he come?  Where shall we first see him?  How near is he now?  Does he suspect the trick?  Will he give us the slip after all?—­Has he gone?”

For of a sudden dead stillness reigned in the forest.  No more trampling, grunting, and knocking of antlers.  The spirits of the three sank to zero.  Their breathing became thick.  The blood, which a moment before had played like wildfire in their veins, now stirred sluggishly as if it was freezing.  Disappointment, blank and bitter, shivered through them from neck to foot.

So passed quarter of an hour.  A filmy mist rose from the surface of the water, and drifted by their faces like the brushing of cold wings.  For lack of motion hand and feet felt numb.  Mid the pitch-black shadows, snug in by the bank, no man could see the face of his fellow, though the trio would have given a fortune to read their guide’s.  Not a word was spoken.  Once, when a deep breath of impatience escaped him, Neal heard the folds of his coat rub each other, and clenched his teeth to stop an exclamation at the sound, which he had never noticed before.

Nearly twenty minutes had elapsed since the last noise had been heard in the woods, when Herb took up the horn which he had laid down, and put it to his mouth.  Again the call rolled up.  It was neither loud nor long this time, ending with a quick, short roar.

As it ceased the guide plunged his arm into the water and slowly withdrew it, letting drops dribble from his fingers.

The novices could only suspect that this manoeuvre was another lure for the bull-moose, if he chanced to be still within hearing.  Its success took their breath away.