"You are imagining things again, brother."
"I am imagining nothing," Timpooche retorted, briskly. "This is no time to pretend. I am fearful, Cornstalk. Not in the same way as when suli flies overhead but everything on the water and in the trees cries of some danger."
A wood duck fishing near the edge of the stream suddenly took flight maybe 30 hands from the boys. It appeared as if the water was holding it, would not let it go.
"Look, Cornstalk!" whispered an agitated Timpoochee as he pointed to a stone-shaped object rising only slightly above the surface of the water.