Tom jumped in and in a trice had tossed out the smouldering weeds; which Felix trampled under foot, until they ceased to give out any smoke or smell.
"Pretty rank in here, what with the cat and the weed; hard to tell which is the worse," declared Tom; "but we'll remedy that right quick."
Both boys bustled about, getting wood for a fire; and Tom selected as much fragrant burning fragments as his knowledge of the forest trees allowed. They carried this into the dugout, the shutter of which had been opened to admit of fresh air.
The big fireplace seemed to fairly yawn, and ask for a supply of fuel, and in a very short time they had the fire going briskly.
First of all, they did everything possible to get rid of the awful odors. The two big packs were brought inside and opened, so that the coffee could be reached, and once Tom had sprinkled a few pinches of the powdered grain on the hearth, and set a burning brand alongside, to cause it to catch fire, a different scent filled the place.
"Is that any better?" he asked, laughingly.
"A thousand per cent," replied Felix. "But say, I'm as hungry as a bear; and we can't get supper any too soon to suit me."
"Same here," chirped Tom; with which remark he started in to make immediate preparations for the meal.
Expecting to depend for the most part on the game they would find, for their subsistence while in the wilderness, they had carried only certain things along, in the shape of bacon, salt pork, coffee, tea, some sugar, flour, rice, hominy, and about a quart of onions for an occasional relish. That, with their blankets, some extra clothes, and ammunition, made up the heavy packs which the boys had been carrying on their backs for three full days now—the snow-shoes counted for little, as they were light weight.
While Tom made the coffee, Felix busied himself in cooking some of the bacon. Until they had managed to knock over a deer, or supplied themselves with meat in some other fashion, they must make a raid daily on their scanty stock of food.