Had Robert spoken of some chemical combination for producing fire, by mixing sand and sea-water, Harold could scarcely have been more surprised than by the proposal to obtain fire from his watch. He handed it to his cousin with the simple remark, "Please don't hurt it," and looked on with curiosity. Robert examined the convex surface of the crystal, which being old fashioned, was almost the section of a sphere, and said,
"I think it will do."
Then obtaining some dry, rotten wood from a decayed tree, he filled the hollow part of the crystal with water, and setting it upon a support, for the purpose of keeping the water perfectly steady, showed Harold that the rays of the sun passing through this temporary lens, were concentrated as by a sun-glass. The tinder smoked, and seemed almost ready to ignite, but did not quite--the sun's rays were too much aslant at that hour of the day, and the sky was moreover covered with a thin film of mist.
"It is a failure," said he, "but still there is another plan which I have seen adopted--a spark of fire squeezed from the air by suddenly compressing it in a syringe. If we had a dry reed, the size of this gun barrel, I would try it by using a tight plug of gun wadding as a piston."
But Robert had no opportunity for trying his philosophical experiment, and being mortified by a second disappointment, as he probably would have been, from the rudeness of the contrivance; for Harold's voice was soon heard from the bank above, "I have it now!" and when Robert approached he saw in his hand a white flint arrowhead. With this old Indian relic he showered a plentiful supply of sparks upon the dry touch-wood, until a rising smoke proclaimed that the fire had taken.
During the time occupied by these experiments, and the subsequent cookery, the thin mist in the sky had given place to several dark rolling clouds, which promised ere long to give them a shower. The promise was kept; for the boys had not proceeded half a mile before the rain poured down in torrents. As there was no lightning, they sought the shelter of a mossy tree, and for a season were so well protected that they could not but admire their good fortune. But their admiration did not last long; the rain soaked through the dense masses over head, and fell in heavy drops upon their caps and shoulders.
"This will never do," cried Harold. "Come with me, Robert, and I will provide a shelter that we can trust."
Putting upon their heads a thick covering of moss, which hung like a cape as far down as their elbows, they ran to a fallen pine, and loosened several pieces of its bark, as long and broad as they could detach, then placing them upon their heads above the moss, marched back to the tree, and had the pleasure of seeing the rain drip from their bark shelters as from the eaves of a house. Robert was much pleased with the expedient, and remarked,
"I suppose this is another of old Torgah's notions."
"O, no," replied Harold. "I have frequently seen it used by negroes in the field, and by hunters in the woods. But there is another device of a similar kind, which I will leave you to guess. I was riding once with a rough backwoodsman across one of our Alabama prairies, when we were overtaken by a severe hail-storm, that gave us an unmerciful pelting. Now, how do you suppose he protected himself against the hailstones?"