"It's true," affirmed Professor Scotch. "Sometimes bears, lured by hunger, will come down into the lowlands, where mosquitoes will attack them. They will stand up on their hind legs and strike at the little pests with their forward paws. Sometimes a bear will do this till he is exhausted and falls. Then the mosquitoes finish him."
"Thot's a harrud yarn to belave, profissor; but it goes av you soay so," said Barney, thinking it best to smooth over the late unpleasantness.
"Up there," said Frank, "the Indians smear their faces and hands with some kind of sticky stuff that keeps the mosquitoes from reaching their flesh. In that way they get along very well."
But they had something to talk about besides the Indians of Alaska, for the surprises around them furnished topics for conversation.
Exploring the place, they found it well stocked with provisions, which caused them all to feel delighted.
"I'm actually glad we came!" laughed Frank. "This is fun galore."
"It will be all right if we are able to get out of the scrape," said Scotch.
Barney built a fire, while Frank prepared to make bread and cook supper, having found everything necessary for the accomplishment of the task.
The professor stripped off his outer garments, wrung the water out of them, and hung them up before the fire to dry.
His example was followed by the Irish boy.
They made themselves as comfortable as possible, and night came on, finding them in a much better frame of mind than they had expected to be.
Frank succeeded in baking some bread in the stone oven. He found coffee, and a pot bubbled on the coals, sending out an odor that made the trio feel ravenous.
There were candles in abundance, and two of them were lighted. Then, when everything was ready, they sat down to the table and enjoyed a supper that put them in the best of moods.
The door of the hut was left open, and the light shone out upon the overturned canoe and the dark water beyond.
After supper they cleaned and dried the rifles and shotgun.
"By jingoes!" laughed Frank; "this is a regular picnic! I'm glad we took the wrong course, and came here!"
"You may change your tune before we get out," said the professor, whose trousers were dry, and who was now feeling of his coat to see how that was coming on.
"Don't croak, profissor," advised Barney. "You're th' firrust mon Oi iver saw thot wuz bound ter drown himsilf in thray fate av wather. Ha! ha! ha!"
"Oh, laugh, laugh," snapped the little man, fiercely. "I'll get even with you for that some time! What fools boys are!"
After supper they lay around and took things easy. Barney and Frank told stories till it was time to go to bed, and they finally turned in, first having barred the door and made sure the windows were securely fastened.
They soon slept, but they were not to rest quietly through the night. Other mysterious things were soon to follow those of the day.
CHAPTER XXIX.
A WILD NIGHT IN THE SWAMP
Clang! clang! clang!
"Fire!"
"Turn out!"
The boys leaped to their feet, and the professor came tearing out of the bedroom, ran into the table, which he overturned with a great clatter of dishes, reeled backward, and sat down heavily on the floor, where he rubbed his eyes, and muttered:
"I thought that fire engine was going to run me down before I could get out of the way."
"Fire engine!" cried Frank Merriwell. "Who ever heard of a fire engine in the heart of the Florida Everglades?"
"Oi herrud th' gong," declared Barney.
"So did I," asserted the professor.
"I heard something that sounded like a fire gong," admitted Frank.
"Pwhat was it, Oi dunno?"
"It seemed to come from beneath the head of the bed in there," said Scotch.
"An' Oi thought I herrud it under me couch out here," gurgled Barney.
"We will light a candle, and look around," said Frank.
A candle was lighted, and they looked for the cause of the midnight alarm, but they found nothing that explained the mystery.
"Whist!" hissed the Irish boy. "It's afther gettin' away from here we'd better be, mark me worrud."
"What makes you think that?" demanded Frank, sharply.
"It's spooks there be around this place, ur Oi'm mistaken!"
"Oh, I've heard enough about spooks! It's getting tiresome."
The professor was silent, but he shook his head in a very mysterious manner, as if he thought a great many things he did not care to speak about.
They had been thoroughly awakened, but, after a time, failing to discover what had aroused them, they decided to return to bed.
Five minutes after they lay down, Frank and the professor were brought to their feet by a wild howl and a thud. They rushed out of the bedroom, and nearly fell over Barney, who was lying in the middle of the floor, at least eight feet from the couch.
"What is the matter with you?" cried Frank, astonished.
"Oi was touched!" palpitated the Irish lad, thickly.
"Touched?"
"Thot's pwhat!"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Oi wur jist beginning to get slapy whin something grabbed me an' threw me clan out here in th' middle av th' room."
"Oh, say! what are you trying to make us believe!"
"Oi'll swear to it, Frankie—Oi'll swear on a stack av Boibles."
"You dreamed it, Barney; that's what's the matter."
"Nivver a drame, me b'y, fer Oi wasn't aslape at all, at all."
"But you may have been asleep, for you say you were beginning to get sleepy. There isn't anything here to grab you."
"Oi dunno about thot, Frankie. Oi'm incloined to belave th' Ould B'y's around, so Oi am."
"Oh, this is tiresome! Go back to bed, and keep still."
"Nivver a bit will Oi troy to slape on thot couch again th' noight, me b'y. Oi'll shtay roight here on th' flure."
"Sleep where you like, but keep still. That's all."
Frank was somewhat nettled by these frequent interruptions of his rest, and he was more than tempted to give Barney cause to believe the hut was really haunted, for he was an expert ventriloquist, and he could have indulged in a great deal of sport with the Irish boy.
But other things were soon to take up their attention. While they were talking a strange humming arose on every side and seemed to fill the entire hut. At first, it was like a swarm of bees, but it grew louder and louder till it threatened to swell into a roar.
Professor Scotch was nearly frightened out of his wits.
"It is the end of everything!" he shrieked, making a wild dash for the door, which he flung wide open.
But the professor did not rush out of the cabin. Instead, he flung up his hands, staggered backward, and nearly fell to the floor.
"The white canoe!" he faintly gasped, clutching at empty air for support.
Frank