"The simplest part of it. This hut isn't more than seven feet, or so, high. You 'give me a back' and then I can reach the hole easily and boost myself through."
"Well, I admit that is possible, but after the fire is started, and supposing everything goes all right, how are Sandy and I going to get up?"
"Sandy is the lightest. He will have to give you 'a back' and I'll haul you through somehow. Then Sandy must stand up, and together I guess we can hoist him through without much difficulty."
Jack shrugged his shoulders. Sandy looked dubious.
"I know it's a desperate chance," admitted Tom, "but ours is a desperate situation. Now then, let's lose no time in putting it into effect. If it fails, we can't be much worse off."
"No, that is true enough, unless the hut burns down."
"Oh, the damp, thick sod that covers it wouldn't ignite as easily as all that," declared Tom, who was waxing enthusiastic over his plan.
Jack got down on all fours and Tom mounted on his back. He was able in this way, being a tall boy, to grasp the edges of the hole. This done he hoisted himself up with his muscular young arms, much as a lad "chins the bar." Once up on the roof, he reached down into the hole for the firebrand, which it had been arranged that Jack was to hand up.
He had hardly grasped it when an angry growl from close at hand apprised him that the bears had perceived him. There was no time to be lost. Raising a wild, blood-curdling yell that awoke the echoes of the cliffs, Tom flung his firebrand down into the thick grass.