"Well, we have plenty of fuel now."
"Yes, but we can't live on oak—though we might on acorns. But here comes Jimkin. Let's say no more about it now, Katy."
As the chips flew under Tug's blows, Katy gathered an armful, and hastened back to kindle a fire, while Jim and Aleck busied themselves in clearing a good path, and in hauling the hand-sled from under the boat, where it had been jammed into the drift out of the way. By the time it was ready Tug had chopped a sled-load of wood, and they hauled it to the house. It had been very awkward climbing over their wall of boxes, but they had been afraid to move any part of it, for fear of throwing down the snow which had banked it up and made the place so tight and warm. However, there was one box which must shortly be opened in order to get at more provisions; so it was carefully moved, and the wood piled in its place, leaving a low archway underneath, through which they could crawl on their hands and knees.
"That's just like an igloo," said Katy.
"What's an 'igloo'?"
"An Eskimo house made of frozen snow, in the shape of a dome, and entered by a low door, just like this one. By the way, are you getting hungry?"
"Yes; bring us something to eat."
They went back to their chopping. Pretty soon Katy came running out, bringing some crackers, a little hard cheese, and the last small jar of jelly—"just for a taste," she explained. Then she broke out with her story:
"Oh, boys, there's a whole lot of little birds—white and brown—around the house. They seem to like to get near the smoke. I'm going to throw out some crumbs."