Toby and me."

Skipper Zeb and Toby, waist deep in the boat, rescued the various
articles of the cargo and passed them to Charley, who worked with a will
until everything was salvaged. A tent was then quickly set up in the lee
of the cliff, a tent stove placed in the tent, a fire lighted in the
stove, and in fifteen minutes the tent was warm and snug and cozy.

A bag of flour was now opened, and it was found that while the outside
was wet, the greater part of the center was dry, and in a jiffy Mrs.
Twig was mixing dough bread, a kettle was over for tea, and Skipper Zeb
had some bear's meat sizzling in the pan and sending forth a most
delicious and appetizing odour.

"Well, now!" exclaimed Skipper Zeb when they were all gathered in the
warm tent, and Mrs. Twig had piled their plates with meat and hot bread
and passed each of them a cup of steaming hot tea, "here we are in as
snug a berth as can be, safe and sound, with nothin' to worry about even
if we be a bit wet."

"It is cozy," agreed Charley, with a mouthful of the hot bread, "and I
never tasted anything so good!"

"Hunger be a wonderful fine spice for vittles," remarked Skipper Zeb.
"Are you all warmed up, now?"

Everybody was warm, and wet clothing was steaming in the overheated
tent.

"I'm wonderful thankful you makes the cruise to the Post early," said
Mrs. Twig. "'Twere fine to get our winter outfit in September month, and
get un safe up to Double Up Cove whilst fair weather held. If we'd had
un to-day all the flour and tea and hard bread[2] would be spoiled. As
'tis, we loses the boat and so much else it makes my heart sick to think
of un."

"Well, now!" exclaimed Skipper Zeb. "Worryin' when we has everything to
be thankful for! We has the boat for the cruise in September month, just
when we needs un most. Now we don't need un this year again. The things
we loses we'll make out without. Everything works fine for us, and here
we be, snug as a bear in his den, eatin' good vittles, even if we be a
bit wet."

"I can't help worryin' about the boat," insisted Mrs. Twig. "I'm 'tis
feelin' bad for you not havin' she."

"Don't feel bad about un, Mother," and there was a tenderness in Skipper
Twig's voice that Charley noted. "'Twere the Lard's doin's."

When the meal was finished Mrs. Twig and Violet were left in the tent to
dry their clothing, and to hang the blankets from the ridge in an
attempt to dry them also. With one of the sails a lean-to shelter w