gathering a few dry
sticks, he struck a light, and soon made a little fire. They found a
birch tree growing near, and they stripped off some pieces of the bark.
These they laid upon the fire, holding the ends of two long sticks upon
them, in such a manner, that, as the pieces of birch bark curled up
under the influence of the heat, they curled around the ends of these
sticks, thus making flambeaux. These flambeaux, though of rude
construction, gave a very excellent light, and Marco and Forester walked
about the huts, waving them in the air, and illuminating the whole scene
in a very brilliant manner.

They found that the huts were in a ruinous state. Only one of them had a
roof, and that had been originally made of hemlock branches, which had
now become entirely dry by long exposure. This covered hut was only a
sort of booth, being entirely open on one side. Forester said that he
recollected having heard of such huts, and that the men built their
fire, not in them, but on the ground opposite the open side.

Forester and Marco concluded to remain in this hut for the night. They
got together a great many hemlock branches, which they spread in the
bottom of it for a bed, and they built a fire opposite the open part, to
keep them warm.

Marco took a great interest in this fire. He piled the dry sticks upon
it until he had a very warm and cheerful blaze, and then he collected by
the side of it a heap of fuel, to use during the night.

In fact, Marco raised his fire too high; for, from the column of smoke
and sparks, one little brilliant fragment lighted upon their roof; and
it was slowly burning and smoking there, while Forester and Marco were
opening their bag of provisions, to see what they could make out for
supper.

Marco was counting out the potatoes, saying, "two for you, and two for
me," when his attention was arrested by a spark which, at that instant,
fell into his lap. He looked up to see where it came from, and saw that
the fire, which had spread from the original spark which had fallen upon
the roof, had burned a hole through, and the air, which was drawn up
through the opening, was at that moment fanning it into a flame.

Marco ran out, calling out, "Get some water! Get some water!"

There was plenty of water in a brook, which flowed with a murmuring
sound down a little glen behind the huts, but there were no buckets, and
Marco called in vain. It would have been equally useless to have raised
an alarm of