When they had gathered sufficiently to last them for a good while, Mickey lit his pipe, and they sat down by the fire to discuss the situation.  The temperature was comfortable, there being no need of the flames to lessen the cold; but there was a certain tinge of dampness, natural to such a location, that made the fire grateful, not alone for its cheering, enlivening effect, but for its power in dissipating the slight peculiarity alluded to.

Seated thus the better portion of an hour was occupied by them in talking over the past and interchanging experiences, the substance of which had already been given.  They were thus engaged when Mickey, who seemed to discover so much from specimens of the fuel which they had gathered, picked up another stick, which was charred at one end, and carefully scrutinized it, as though it contained an important sermon intended for his benefit.

CHAPTER XXVIII THE EXPLORING TOUR

After gently tossing the stick in his hand, like one who endeavors to ascertain its weight, Mickey smelled of it, and finally bit his teeth into it, with a very satisfactory result.

“Now, that’s what I call lucky, as the old miser obsarved when he found he was going to save his dinner by dying in the forenoon.  Do you mind that shtick—­big enough to sarve as a respictable shillalah at Donnybrook Fair?  Well, my laddy, that has done duty as a lantern in this very place.”

“As a torch, you mean?”

“Precisely; just heft it.”  As he tossed it into Fred’s hand, the latter was astonished to note its weight.

“What’s the cause of that?” he inquired.

“It’s a piece of pine, and its chuck full of pitch.  That’s why it’s so heavy.  It’ll burn like the biggest kind of a candle, and me plan, me laddy, is to set that afire, and then start out to larn something about this new house.”

Nothing could have suited the boy better.  He sprang to his feet and took the gun from Mickey, so as to leave him free to carry the torch.  One end of the latter was thrust into the fire, and it caught as readily as if it were smeared with alcohol.  It was a bit of pine, as fat as it could be, and, as a torch, could not have been improved upon.

Then Mickey elevated it above his head, it gave forth a long yellow smoke blaze, which answered admirably the purpose for which it was required.

“I’ll take the lead,” said he to his young friend, when they were ready to start.  “You follow a few yards behind and look as sharp as you can to find out all there is to be found out.  You know there is much that depends on this.”

There was no possibility of Fred failing to use all his senses to the utmost, and he told his friend to go ahead and do the same.

Mickey first headed toward the cascade, as he had some hope of learning something in that direction.  Reaching the base of the falls, they paused a while to contemplate them.  There was nothing noteworthy about them, except their location underneath the ground.