Instantly it flared up as though it had been oil soaked. This
made excellent kindling for the wood that was piled on top, and in an
incredibly short time the tent was warm and snug as any house. Ed left
the open fire and joined Bob and Bill, and in a few minutes Dick came
in with an armful of wood.
"Well, un had a good wettin' an' a cold souse," said he, as he piled
the wood neatly behind the stove, addressing himself to Ed, who, now
quite recovered from his chill, stood with his back to the stove,
puffing contentedly at his pipe, with the steam pouring out of his wet
clothes.
"'Twere just a fine time wi' th' dip I had ten year ago th' winter
comin'," said Ed, ruminatively. "'Twere _nothin'_ to that un."
"An' where were that?" asked Dick.
"I were out o' tea in March, an' handy to havin' no tobaccy, an' I
says t' myself, 'Ed, ye can't stay in th' bush till th' break up wi'
nary a bit o' tea, and ye'd die wi'out tobaccy. Now ye got t' make th'
cruise t' th' Post.' Well, I fixes up my traps, an' packs grub for a
week on my flat sled (toboggan) an' off I goes. 'Twere fair goin' wi'
good hard footin' an' I makes fine time. Below th' Gull Rapids, just
above where I come ashore th' day, I takes t' th' ice thinkin' un
good, an' 'twere lucky I has my racquets lashed on th' flat sled an'
not walkin' wi' un, for I never could a swum wi' un on.
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