Caleb then went to Raymond, and told him that he could not make his fire burn.
“O you must not come to me, youngster; you promised not to trouble me with it,” said Raymond, as he hooked the chain around the butt-end of another tree.
“But I thought I could make it burn.”
“Well, what's the matter with it? But stand back, for I am going to start this tree along.”
“Why the bark all curls up and burns my hand,” said Caleb, retreating at the same time out of the way of the top of Raymond's tree.
The oxen started along, dragging the tree, and Caleb followed, trying to get an opportunity to speak once more to Raymond. Raymond, however, went calling aloud to his oxen, and directing them here and there with his “Gee, Star,” and his “Ha, Lion,” and his “Wo up, Whoa”.
At length, however, he had the tree in its place, and seeing Caleb standing at a little distance patiently, he asked him again,
“What do you say is the matter with your fire, Caleb?”
“Why, the birch bark curls up and burns me: I wish you would come and set it a-fire.”
“No,” said Raymond, walking along by the side of his oxen; “I must not leave my work to help you play; but I will tell you three ways to carry the fire, and you can manage it in one or the other of them.”