Yet the man had a heart,
and he could not prevent it from responding to another. In his
simple ignorance he rebelled against this affection for anything
other than his forest homes. Man is weak against hate; what can he
avail against love? The dark caverns of Wetzel's great heart opened,
admitting to their gloomy depths this stranger. So now a new love
was born in that cheerless heart, where for so long a lonely inmate,
the ghost of old love, had dwelt in chill seclusion.
The feeling of comradeship which Wetzel had for Joe was something
altogether new in the hunter's life. True he had hunted with
Jonathan Zane, and accompanied expeditions where he was forced to
sleep with another scout; but a companion, not to say friend, he had
never known. Joe was a boy, wilder than an eagle, yet he was a man.
He was happy and enthusiastic, still his good spirits never jarred
on the hunter; they were restrained. He never asked questions, as
would seem the case in any eager lad; he waited until he was spoken
to. He was apt; he never forgot anything; he had the eye of a born
woodsman, and lastly, perhaps what went far with Wetzel, he was as
strong and supple as a young lynx, and absolutely fearless.
On this evening Wetzel and Joe followed their usual custom; they
smoked a while before lying down to sleep.
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