Bandy-legs was appearing rather uneasy. He could not forget what a
tremendous pull he had received at the time he was awakened; and the
very thought that they might even now be in the abiding place of the
creature that had been responsible for his fright gave him new cause for
shivering.

He looked up and around, as though suspecting that the aforesaid human
being might be hiding close by, and watching them with ferocious eyes.
But there was no loft to the squatty cabin, and hence no place where
anybody of size might lie in concealment. Still, Bandy-legs looked
longingly down at his fish spear, and wished he had thought to shorten
that pole, so he could always keep it handy in case of a sudden
necessity.

Max even tried to find traces of footprints on the floor; but as the
earth was as hard as rock he did not meet with any flattering success
there.

"Anyhow, he had a fire in here, looks like, when he cooked that bird,"
Steve remarked, as he pointed to a little heap of ashes over where the
chimney, that was made of hard mud and pieces of stone, stood.

Max saw that there seemed to be considerable of truth in this discovery
of the quick-witted chum. There were certainly ashes there, a little
heap of them, and these could not have been left behind when the former
occupant of the cabin deserted his home years ago; for the winds of
winter, sifting in through the partly open door, would have scattered
the ashes long since.

They spoke of more recent occupancy, perhaps within the last month, or