In the cleft back of the cave was a spring of clear, cold water.
The wants of woodsmen are few and simple.

Joe and Wetzel, with appetites whetted by their stirring outdoor life, relished the frugal fare as they could never have enjoyed a feast.

As the shadows of evening entered the cave, they lighted their pipes to partake of the hunter's sweetest solace, a quiet smoke.
Strange as it may appear, this lonely, stern Indian-hunter and the reckless, impulsive boy were admirably suited for companionship.
Wetzel had taken a liking to the young man when he led the brothers to Fort Henry.

Subsequent events strengthened his liking, and now, many days after, Joe having followed him into the forest, a strong attachment had been insensibly forged between them.
Wetzel understood Joe's burning desire to roam the forests; but he half expected the lad would soon grow tired of this roving life, but exactly the opposite symptoms were displayed.

The hunter had intended to take his comrade on a hunting trip, and to return with him, after that was over, to Fort Henry.