CHAPTER XIII.
THE FIRE CIRCLE.
“That’s me, all right, Thad; I’ll have a spark going the quickest ever, if that old wind only holds up a bit. Here’s aplenty of loose stuff, to begin with, that I can kick together. Wait till I stick my torch in this crotch of the tree. Just as well to have some light to work by,” and as he kept up this running fire of talk, Step Hen was busying himself right swiftly.
For the moment he forgot all his aches and pains, and worked like a Trojan; indeed, no defender of ancient Troy ever had more urgent reason for getting things going than Step Hen thought he did just at that minute.
He used his feet and hands to gather the loose pine needles in a heap; and when he thought he had things fixed to suit him, the next business that engaged his attention was getting the pile to take fire. After that Step Hen said he would be “on Easy Street.”
All this while the night wind had been moaning and whistling through the tops of the tall pines, making a mournful kind of music, calculated to add to the uneasiness caused by the savage howls of the hungry wolves from the north. But Step Hen had learned a lesson while lighting his torch, and knew that the wind came in gusts, with short intervals between. By waiting a few seconds after it had started to blow at quite a lively rate, he was able to find a lull; and making the most of his opportunity, he hastily struck his match, and applied it to the dry stuff he had made sure to keep underneath.
But after all he came very near spoiling it; for just at that very second there was a loud howl, so close at hand that Step Hen was impelled to look over his shoulder, under the impression that the wolf pack was even then about to overwhelm him while he bent down, almost defenseless, above the pile of dry stuff.
“It’s all right; don’t worry!” exclaimed Thad, who was standing guard, with his faithful Marlin gripped tight in his hands; and any wolf that attempted to try conclusions with that reliable little gun would surely regret his temerity.
The flame managed to catch before the wind could come back again to blow it out; and once the connection had been made, the draught only served to make the fire burn the better.
“There, that’s done; and now what?” asked Step Hen, whirling around to pick up his own weapon, under the belief that he would feel easier in his mind if in a position to defend himself.