Once it was fairly started we were powerless to put out the
blaze until the hut was ruined. The snow that covered the walls checked
the fire somewhat, but the thatching burned from the inside, melting the
snow and dropping it suddenly into the flaming straw bedding on the
floor. As we sat in a gloomy ring about the camp fire, watching the
tongues of flame play about the charred ribs of our hut, we had reason
to be thankful that the wind had played its pranks before we turned in for
the night. What a risk we had run of being all burned to death! It made me
shudder to think of it. Well, our hut was burned. What next? That was the
question put before the society.
"Might build a snow hut," suggested Dutchy.
"Now, be sensible," answered Reddy. "We can't build a snow hut in five
minutes."
"The best plan," I volunteered, "would be to go over to Jim Halliday's and
ask him to let us sleep in his barn."
Immediately the suggestion was acted upon.
A Friend in Time of Trouble.
Old Jim Halliday greeted us very gruffly. He said he wouldn't have us in
his barn. "You'll be amussin' up the hay so't wouldn't be fit fer the
horses to eat. Any boy that is fool enough to build a fire on a straw bed
ought to go right home to his mother, and he hadn't oughter be trusted
with matches, nuther.
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