"Nothing that I know of," laughed Thad, "No use advertising, because papers don't circulate through the wilderness; and those ignorant foreigners couldn't read the notice if we put one in. And we can't find where to stick the message even if we printed one in picture writing, as Allan had shown us the Indians do. Guess after all we'll just have to take pot luck, Giraffe."
"That means, I reckon, that we'll just have to keep on stuffing our good grub down the throat of this silly old bear, until his owners happen along. Tough luck, Thad! Why, oh! why did the beast ever smell us out in the beginning?"
"Oh! the odor of our supper cooking must have done that," Thad went on to say. "If you were almost starved, and got on the track of onions frying, wouldn't you make a bee-line for that camp-fire, and beg to share the meal? That's what he did, came walking in, and in his clumsy way tried to dance himself into our good graces. But the hour was late, and we all made a break for the branches of the trees. I'll never remember that without laughing. It was sure the funniest sight ever."
"There's Step-hen," Giraffe had gone on to remark, "always talking about that uncle of his who lives out somewhere in the wild and woolly west; he says he expects to pay him a visit some day, and brags about how he'll have a chance to bag his grizzly bear then; but excuse me, if a grizzly can eat any more than this tame one; I wouldn't bag him for a gift."
"Oh! you mistake his meaning," chuckled Thad, "When he speaks of bagging a bear he means shooting him and bringing him to bag, not capturing one. The man doesn't live who would try to capture such a monster, single-handed."
"Have you ever shot one, Thad?"
"Well, hardly, seeing that I've never lived where they grew grizzlies; but the time might come when I would have the chance. I'd like to be able to say I had brought such a fierce beast down. But I want to get back, and keep an eye on that fire you've built. It's sure a wonder, only I wouldn't throw any more wood on it for a long time. Those flames shoot up pretty high, right now."
"Oh! it's just glorious!" declared the young fire worshipper; "and I don't see how I'm ever going to get to sleep to-night for tinkering with it. When I can attend a fire I seem to thrill all over. Funny, ain't it, Thad, how it affects me? My folks say they'll have to send me to the city, and make a fireman out of me."
"Well, if they asked my advice," remarked the other, "I'd say you ought to be put on a railroad engine to stoke. Inside of a month you'd be so sick of making fires you'd never want to try it again as long as you lived."
"Hey! don't you go to putting them up to that dodge, then," remarked Giraffe, in sudden alarm, "because I don't want to get an overdose of making fires. Just now it's a passion with me. I love to sit, and stare into the blaze, because I can see all sorts of things there. Why, Thad, honest now, they talk to me just like that silly old Injun picture writin' does to Allan. I read stories in the fires I make."