To carry out his intentions, it was
necessary, in the first place, to see Hans Vanderbum, and secure his
cooperation. Fully aware of his astonishing sleeping qualities, the
Huron knew he might as well try to wake a dead man as to secure an
interview with him during the night.
An hour later the bank of the Miami was reached. As they stood on the
shore and looked down-stream, its clear surface, glistening brightly in
the moonlight, could be seen as plainly as at noonday, until it
disappeared from sight in a sweeping bend. From their stand-point it
resembled a lake more than a river, the woods, apparently, shutting
down in such a manner as to hide it entirely. Not a ripple was heard
along the shore, and only once a zephyr hurried over its bosom,
crinkling the surface as it passed, and rustling the tops of a few
trees along the bank as it went on and was lost in the wood beyond.
The great wilderness, on every hand, stretched miles and miles away,
until it was lost afar, like a sea of gloom, in the sky. Once a
night-bird rushed whirring past, so startlingly close, that the
Lieutenant felt a cold chill run over him as its wings fanned his face.
It shot off like a bullet directly across the river, and could be
distinguished for several minutes, its body resembling a black ball,
until it faded out from view. Nothing else disturbed the solemn
stillness that held reign. Everything wore the spirit of quietness and
repose.
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