“Fronting the creek,” explained Yan.

“I forgot to tell ye,” said Caleb, “an Injun teepee always fronts the east; first, that gives the morning sun inside; next, the most wind is from the west, so the smoke is bound to draw.”

“And what if the wind is right due east?” asked Sam, “which it surely will be when it rains?”

“And when the wind’s east,” continued Caleb, addressing no one in particular, and not as though in answer to a question, “ye lap the flaps across each other tight in front, so,” and he crossed his hands over his chest.  “That leaves the east side high and shuts out the rain; if it don’t draw then, ye raise the bottom of the cover under the door just a little—­that always fetches her.  An’ when you change her round don’t put her in under them trees.  Trees is dangerous; in a storm they draw lightning, an’ branches fall from them, an’ after rain they keep on dripping for an hour.  Ye need all the sun ye kin get on a teepee.

“Did you ever see Indians bring fire out of two sticks by rubbing, Mr. Clark?”

“Oh, yes.  Most of the Injuns now carry matches, but in the early days I seen it done often enough.”

“Does it take long?  Is it hard?”

“Not so long, and it’s easy enough, when ye know how.”

“My!  I’d rather bring fire out of two sticks than have a ten dollar bill,” said Yan, with enthusiasm that meant much, for one dollar was his high-water mark of affluence, and this he had reached but once in his life.

“Oh, I dunno’; that depends,” was Sam’s more guarded response.

“Can you do it?” asked Yan.

“Wall, yes, if I kin get the right stuff.  Ye see, it ain’t every wood that will do it.  It’s got to be jest right.  The Plains Injuns use Cottonwood root, an’ the Mountain Injuns use Sage-brush root.  I’ve seen the Canadian Injuns use Basswood, Cedar and dry White Pine, but the Chippewas mostly use Balsam Fir.  The easiest way is with a bow-drill.  Have ye any buckskin?”

“No.”

“Or a strip o’ soft leather?”

“I’ve got a leather shoe-lace,” said Yan.

“Rather slim; but we’ll double it an’ make it do.  A cord will answer, but it frays out so soon.”  Caleb took the lace and the axe, then said, “Find me a stone ’bout the size of an egg, with a little hole into it—­like a socket hole—­’bout a quarter inch deep.”

The boys went to the creek to seek a stone and Caleb went into the woods.

They heard him chopping, and presently he came back with a flat piece of very dry Balsam Fir, a fifteen-inch pin of the same, a stick about three feet long, slightly bent, some dry Pine punk and some dry Cedar.

The pin was three-quarters of an inch thick and was roughly eight-sided, “so the lace would grip.”  It was pointed at both ends.  He fastened the lace to the bent stick like a bow-string, but loosely, so that when it had one turn around the pin it was quite tight.  The flat piece of Balsam he trimmed down to about half an inch thick.  In the edge of this he now cut a notch one-quarter inch wide and half an inch deep, then on the top of this fire-board or block, just beyond the notch, he made with the point of his knife a little pit.