When Tom awoke in the morning, he wondered where he was. He sat up and rubbed his eyes and looked around. Then he comprehended. It was the cool gray dawn, and there was a delicious sense of repose and peace in the deep pervading calm and silence of the woods. Not a leaf stirred; not a sound obtruded upon great Nature’s meditation. Beaded dewdrops stood upon the leaves and grasses. A white layer of ashes covered the fire, and a thin blue breath of smoke rose straight into the air. Joe and Huck still slept. TOM LEARNS TO SMOKE After a dainty egg and fish dinner, Tom said he wanted to learn to smoke, now. Joe caught at the idea and said he would like to try, too. So Huck made pipes and filled them. These novices had never smoked anything before but cigars made of grapevine, and they “bit” the tongue, and were not considered manly anyway. Now they stretched themselves out on their elbows and began to puff, charily, and with slender confidence. The smoke had an unpleasant taste, and they gagged a little, but Tom said: “Why, it’s just as easy! If I’d a knowed _this_ was all, I’d a learnt long ago.” “So would I,” said Joe. “It’s just nothing.” “Why, many a time I’ve looked at people smoking, and thought ‘well, I wish I could do that’; but I never thought I could,” said Tom. “That’s just the way with me, hain’t it, Huck? You’ve heard me talk just that way—haven’t you Huck? I’ll leave it to Huck if I haven’t.” “Yes—heaps of times,” said Huck. “Well, I have too,” said Tom; “oh, hundreds of times. Once down by the slaughter-house. Don’t you remember, Huck? Bob Tanner was there, and Johnny Miller, and Jeff Thatcher, when I said it. Don’t you remember, Huck, ’bout me saying that?” “Yes, that’s so,” said Huck. “That was the day after I lost a white alley. No, ’twas the day before.” “There—I told you so,” said Tom. “Huck recollects it.” “I bleeve I could smoke this pipe all day,” said Joe. “_I_ don’t feel sick.” “Neither do I,” said Tom. “_I_ could smoke it all day. But I bet you Jeff Thatcher couldn’t.” “Jeff Thatcher! Why, he’d keel over just with two draws. Just let him try it once. _He’d_ see!” “I bet he would. And Johnny Miller—I wish I could see Johnny Miller tackle it once.” “Oh, don’t _I_!” said Joe, “Why, I bet you Johnny Miller couldn’t any more do this than nothing. Just one little snifter would fetch _him_.” “’Deed it would, Joe. Say—I wish the boys could see us now.” “So do I.” “Say—boys, don’t say anything about it, and sometime when they’re around, I’ll come up to you and say ‘Joe, got a pipe? I want a smoke.’ And you’ll say, kind of careless like, as if it warn’t anything, you’ll say, ‘Yes, I got my _old_ pipe, and another one, but my tobacker ain’t very good.’ And I’ll say, ‘Oh, that’s all right, if it’s _strong_ enough.’ And then you’ll out with the pipes, and we’ll light up just as ca’m, and then just see ’em look!” “By jings, that’ll be gay, Tom! I wish it was _now_!”