"How can I help it?"
"I'll bet Da's best cow against your jack-knife you got some Ellum or Hemlock in that fire."
"Well, I have," Yan admitted, with an air of surrender.
"My son," said the Great Chief Woodpecker, "no sparking allowed in the teepee. Beech, Maple, Hickory or Ash never spark. Pine knots an' roots don't, but they make smoke like—like—oh—you know. Hemlock, Ellum, Chestnut, Spruce and Cedar is public sparkers, an' not fit for dacint teepee sassiety. Big Injun heap hate noisy, crackling fire. Enemy hear that, an'—an'—it burns his bedclothes."
"All right, Grandpa," and the cook made a mental note, then added in tones of deadly menace, "You get up now, do you understand!" and he picked up a bucket of water.
"That might scare the Great Chief Woodpecker if the Great Chief Cook had a separate bed, but now he smiles kind o' scornful," was all the satisfaction [269] he got. Then seeing that breakfast really was ready, Sam scrambled out a few minutes later. The coffee acted like an elixir—their spirits rose, and before the meal was ended it would have been hard to find two more hilarious and enthusiastic campers. Even the vague terrors of the night were now sources of amusement.
