"But you'd better get dried off as soon as you can. Why, you're shivering now."
"Got any matches; mine are all soaked?" said Bluff, his teeth rattling together.
"I always carry a few. Yes, here they are. Let me make a quick fire, while you jump around to warm up; and Bluff, please keep your eye on my camera, won't you?"
"Sure," replied the other, commencing to leap and frisk around, so as to get his chilled blood in circulation again.
The fire was speedily made, and, taking off his clothes, Bluff hugged close to the blaze while Will busied himself in hanging up the wet garments, though he had more or less difficulty in tearing his eyes away from the spot where his camera lay close by.
"Sometimes we get too much fire; then again we want more and more," remarked Bluff, as he kept turning around like a roast on the spit; for as fast as one side felt warm the other grew chilled.
"And I guess that we'd better be beating it back to camp as soon as your duds are decently dry. I don't like the looks of that sky," remarked Will.
"I think you are right. There's certainly a big storm coming. Why, the air seems dead, just like it is in summer before a gale of wind. And camp is nearly two miles away from this place. Don't you think I could put them on now, Will?"
"They feel pretty dry. Do as you please," said the other, not willing to commit himself, though anxious to be off, for the black looks of the heavens began to appall him not a little.
"Then here goes!"