an' then _we'd_ had a chance."

"The Indians make it work," said Yan; "a White hunter ought to know
how."

"Now's the Injun's chance," said Sam. "Maybe it wants a dooer to
close, then the smoke would have to go out."

They tried this, and of course some of the smoke was crowded out, but
not till long after the boys were.

"Seems like what does get out by the chinks is sucked back agin by
that there double-action flue," said Sam.

It was very disappointing. The romance of sitting by the fire in one's
teepee appealed to both of the boys, but the physical torture of
the smoke made it unbearable. Their dream was dispelled, and Sam
suggested, "Maybe we'd better try a shanty."

"No," said Yan, with his usual doggedness. "I know it can be done,
because the Indians do it. We'll find out in time."

But all their efforts were in vain. The wigwam was a failure, as far
as fire was concerned. It was very small and uncomfortable, too; the
wind blew through a hundred crevices, which grew larger as the Elm
bark dried and cracked. A heavy shower caught them once, and they were
rather glad to be driven into their cheerless lodge, but the rain came
abundantly into the smoke-hole as well as through the walls, and they
found it but little protection.