“If we could have a fire like we did that other night it would feel good to me,” Roger told them.
“We might try,” said Dick.
“And when morning comes, how about breakfast?” continued Roger. “What meat I had was taken away from me, and you must be in the same fix.”
“Yes, they thought it was useless to let me keep on carrying fresh elk meat when we all needed something to eat. But I am thankful they left me my ditty bag; and I have my knife too, you remember. How about you, Mayhew?”
“I still have some meat with me; about enough for one meal around,” replied the guide. “After that is gone we will have to shoot game of some sort, either elk or buffalo, so as to lay in a stock.”
“Here is a place that looks as though it would afford shelter from the storm among these fissures in the rock,” announced Dick, which declaration brought cheer to the heart of Roger.
A little investigation, the best that conditions allowed, showed them that they could enter one of the fissures and avoid the sweep of the rising wind that was now causing the snow to blow in sheets.
Determined to do all in their power to obtain some comfort, they selected the best shelter, and then crept within. Roger was the first to discover some scattered bits of wood lying around, a tree that grew further up the abrupt face of the mountain having dropped some of its branches.
Accordingly they obtained a light by means of the tinderbox and flint and steel. This enabled them to collect some of the fuel, and in the end they had a cheery fire.