"
It was mid-forenoon when they reached Rabbit Island--a small wooded
island where the passing dog drivers always stop in winter to make tea
and snatch a mouthful of hard biscuit while the dogs have a half
hour's rest.
"An' here we'll boil th' kettle," suggested Dick. "I'm fair starved
with an early breakfast and the pull at the oars."
"We're ready enough for that," assented Bill. "Th' wind's prickin' up
a bit from th' east'rd, an' when we starts I thinks we may hoist the
sails."
"Yes, th' wind's prickin' up an' we'll have a fair breeze t' help us
past th' Traverspine, I hopes."
The landing was made. Bob and Ed each took an axe to cut into suitable
lengths some of the plentiful dead wood lying right to hand, while
Dick whittled some shavings and started the fire. Bill brought a
kettle (a tin pail) of water. Then he cut a green sapling about five
feet in length, sharpened one end of it, and stuck it firmly into the
earth, slanting the upper end into position over the fire. On this he
hung the kettle of water, so that the blaze shot up around it. In a
little while the water boiled, and with a stick for a lifter he set it
on the ground and threw in a handful of tea. This they sweetened with
molasses and drank out of tin cups while they munched hardtack.
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