"What are you sniffing about, Frank?" demanded Bob, who, in the silence, heard what his comrade was doing.
"I think I scent something, that's all," replied the other.
"Not brimstone and sulphur, I hope?" cried Bob.
"Well, hardly," chuckled the other. "In fact, it seemed to me that it was only such an odor as you can always detect around the den of a wild beast!"
"Glory! then Joe didn't dream it, after all; and there may be an old grizzly in this cave!" ejaculated Bob.
"Not a grizzly," declared Frank, quickly. "If anything, I think it must be a panther. But he may have left after attacking Joe, so that we'll have no trouble with the beast."
"I hope so," Bob remarked, as he strove to look seven ways at once, keeping his finger on the trigger of his repeating rifle all the while.
They were now advancing into the cave.
"Do you think Joe had a torch?" asked Bob, as a new idea came to him.
"Well, he isn't the man to take chances, and he couldn't help but see the good torch material at the door yonder. But the beast may have jumped on his back, so he lost his torch before he could see. And then he fought in the dark. Joe has always been known as a hard fighter, and with his knife I reckon he could give a good account of himself. Hello! see here!"