The next day Wetzel told Joe they would go across country to seek new game fields.  Accordingly the two set out, and tramped industriously until evening.  They came upon a country no less beautiful than the one they had left, though the picturesque cliffs and rugged hills had given way to a rolling land, the luxuriance of which was explained by the abundant springs and streams.  Forests and fields were thickly interspersed with bubbling springs, narrow and deep streams, and here and there a small lake with a running outlet.

Wetzel had said little concerning this region, but that little was enough to rouse all Joe’s eagerness, for it was to the effect that they were now in a country much traversed by Indians, especially runners and hunting parties travelling from north to south.  The hunter explained that through the center of this tract ran a buffalo road; that the buffalo always picked out the straightest, lowest and dryest path from one range to another, and the Indians followed these first pathfinders.

Joe and Wetzel made camp on the bank of a stream that night, and as the lad watched the hunter build a hidden camp-fire, he peered furtively around half expecting to see dark forms scurrying through the forest.  Wetzel was extremely cautious.  He stripped pieces of bark from fallen trees and built a little hut over his firewood.  He rubbed some powder on a piece of punk, and then with flint and steel dropped two or three sparks on the inflammable substance.  Soon he had a blaze.  He arranged the covering so that not a ray of light escaped.  When the flames had subsided, and the wood had burned down to a glowing bed of red, he threw aside the bark, and broiled the strips of venison they had brought with them.

They rested on a bed of boughs which they had cut and arranged alongside a huge log.  For hours Joe lay awake, he could not sleep.  He listened to the breeze rustling the leaves, and shivered at the thought of the sighing wind he had once heard moan through the forest.  Presently he turned over.  The slight noise instantly awakened Wetzel who lifted his dark face while he listened intently.  He spoke one word:  “Sleep,” and lay back again on the leaves.  Joe forced himself to be quiet, relaxed all his muscles and soon slumbered.

On the morrow Wetzel went out to look over the hunting prospects.  About noon he returned.  Joe was surprised to find some slight change in the hunter.  He could not tell what it was.

“I seen Injun sign,” said Wetzel.  “There’s no tellin’ how soon we may run agin the sneaks.  We can’t hunt here.  Like as not there’s Hurons and Delawares skulkin’ round.  I think I’d better take you back to the village.”

“It’s all on my account you say that,” said Joe.

“Sure,” Wetzel replied.

“If you were alone what would you do?”

“I calkilate I’d hunt fer some red-skinned game.”

The supreme moment had come.  Joe’s heart beat hard.  He could not miss this opportunity; he must stay with the hunter.  He looked closely at Wetzel.