There was a
neat, little stone fireplace, and several cooking utensils and
gourds. From time to time Wetzel had brought these things. A pile of
wood and a bundle of pine cones lay in one corner. Haunches of dried
beef, bear and buffalo meat hung from pegs; a bag of parched corn,
another of dried apples lay on a rocky shelf. Nearby hung a
powder-horn filled with salt and pepper. In the cleft back of the
cave was a spring of clear, cold water.
The wants of woodsmen are few and simple. Joe and Wetzel, with
appetites whetted by their stirring outdoor life, relished the
frugal fare as they could never have enjoyed a feast. As the shadows
of evening entered the cave, they lighted their pipes to partake of
the hunter's sweetest solace, a quiet smoke.
Strange as it may appear, this lonely, stern Indian-hunter and the
reckless, impulsive boy were admirably suited for companionship.
Wetzel had taken a liking to the young man when he led the brothers
to Fort Henry. Subsequent events strengthened his liking, and now,
many days after, Joe having followed him into the forest, a strong
attachment had been insensibly forged between them.
Wetzel understood Joe's burning desire to roam the forests; but he
half expected the lad would soon grow tired of this roving life, but
exactly the opposite symptoms were displayed.
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