Evidently the place had been entered from
the rear by bears, who used the hole for winter sleeping quarters.
By crawling on his hands and knees, Wetzel found the rear opening.
Thus he had established a hiding place where it was almost
impossible to locate him. He provisioned his retreat, which he
always entered by the cliff and left by the rear.
An evidence of Wetzel's strange nature, and of his love for this
wild home, manifested itself when he bound Joe to secrecy. It was
unlikely, even if the young man ever did get safely out of the
wilderness, that any stories he might relate would reveal the
hunter's favorite rendezvous. But Wetzel seriously demanded this
secrecy, as earnestly as if the forest were full of Indians and
white men, all prowling in search of his burrow.
Joe was in the seventh heaven of delight, and took to the free life
as a wild gosling takes to the water. No place had ever appealed to
him as did this dark, silent hole far up on the side of a steep
cliff. His interest in Wetzel soon passed into a great admiration,
and from that deepened to love.
This afternoon, when they were satisfied that all was well within
their refuge, Joe laid aside his rifle, and, whistling softly, began
to prepare supper. The back part of the cave permitted him to stand
erect, and was large enough for comparative comfort.
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