They had now been in the woods for weeks and every day in some way had Joe showed his mettle.
Wetzel finally admitted him into the secrets of his most cherished hiding place.

He did not want to hurt the lad's feelings by taking him back to the settlement; he could not send him back.

So the days wore on swiftly; full of heart-satisfying incident and life, with man and boy growing closer in an intimacy that was as warm as it was unusual.
Two reasons might account for this: First, there is no sane human being who is not better off for companionship.

An exile would find something of happiness in one who shared his misery.

And, secondly, Joe was a most acceptable comrade, even for a slayer of Indians.
Wedded as Wetzel was to the forest trails, to his lonely life, to the Nemesis-pursuit he had followed for eighteen long years, he was still a white man, kind and gentle in his quiet hours, and because of this, though he knew it not, still capable of affection.