"You mean about his being home, or away I reckon?" remarked Felix, who was feeling fifty per cent easier in his mind, now that his chum had carried out his little programme without being rushed by the bear.
"That's the idea," replied the other, keeping his eyes on the spot where the fire he had kindled was burning fairly well.
"Plenty of smoke, if there is only a little flame," observed Felix.
"I wanted it that way; and so I picked out some green stuff that would make a whole lot of smell, but not burn too lively, you see, Felix."
"Whee! I got a whiff of it right then; and say, if our friend is at home, and can stand that smell, why, he's welcome to stay where he is the rest of the winter, for all of me. It beats anything I ever whiffed," and the Eastern boy held his fingers to his nose while speaking, to emphasize his words.
Tom grinned, as if he really felt proud of that fire. A hot blaze would have caused very little smoke; and after all might not have accomplished the end they had in view.
"Wait!" he said, with a chuckle; "you'll see."
A few more minutes passed. Felix noticed several things, for he had come to pay considerable more attention to small matters than before meeting this cousin who had been brought up in the open, and imbibed many of the instincts that govern the actions of Indians and veteran woodsmen, among which observation stands at the head.
He saw, for instance, that the breeze was blowing straight toward the face of the cliff where that hole lay; and as it came in rather strong gusts now and then, it undoubtedly served to carry pretty much all of the pungent, highly scented smoke into the yawning aperture.
And Felix also knew that it would drive this odor a long way ahead into the recesses of the cave. If Bruin were at home, he could not help getting a whiff of it presently, and smoke always serves to make a bear both suspicious and angry. Where shouts of derision, and the singing of songs had failed, a more silent and powerful agency would succeed.