"How does that happen, sir?" inquired Bluff.

"It is easy. The careless hunter or trapper leaves his dying fire when
he breaks camp. Then up comes a sudden wind and some of the red cinders
are blown into the dead leaves or punk grass. Fanned by the breeze, they
become a roaring flame in a minute, and the mischief is done. Be
careful, boys, please."

"We certainly will, sir," replied Frank sincerely. "Not to speak of the
damage done, it must be mighty unpleasant to be caught in a forest fire.
I've read of such things, but never hankered for a personal experience."

On the following day they started to look into the possibilities for big
game around the new camp.

"Reddy, here, says he knows of a bear den that we ought to visit some
time later. While at it, you boys must see all there is going in the way
of sport, for you may never come out this way again, though I hope that
will not be the case. To-day, however, we will take things a bit easy,"
remarked the ranchman.

Although the stockman did not speak any plainer, Frank knew just what
he meant.

"He thinks we must be feeling the effects of our little excitement
yesterday, Jerry, and that the soreness in our muscles will take our
ambition away for to-day," he said aside to his chum.

"Tell me about that, will you! To prove that we're tougher than Mr.
Mabie thinks, let's you and I engineer a little hunt of our own?"