Tish got out the “Young Woodsman” from
the suitcase. It seems I had followed cuts I
and II, but had neglected cut III, which is: Hold
the left wrist against the left shin, and the left
foot on the fireblock. I had got my feet mixed
and was trying to hold my left wrist against my right
shin, which is exceedingly difficult. Tish got
a fire in fourteen minutes and thirty-one seconds
by Aggie’s watch, and had to wear a bandage
on her hand for a week.
But we had a fire. We cooked the rabbit, which
proved to be much older than Aggie had thought, and
ate what we could. Personally I am not fond of
rabbit, and our enjoyment was rather chastened by the
fear that some mushrooms Tish had collected and added
to the stew were toadstools incognito.
To make things worse, Aggie saw some goldenrod nearby
and began to sneeze.
It was after five o’clock, but it seemed wisest
to move on toward the lake.
“Even if we don’t make it,” said
Tish, “we’ll be on our way, and while
that bear is likely harmless we needn’t thrust
temptation in his way.”
We carried the fire with us in the kettle and we took
turns with the tepee, which was heavy. Our suitcases
with our city clothes in them we hid in a hollow tree,
and one after the other, with Aggie last, we started
on.
The trail, which was a sort of wide wagon road at
first, became a footpath; as we went on even that
disappeared at times under fallen leaves. Once
we lost it entirely, and Aggie, falling over a hidden
root, stilled the fire. She became exceedingly
disagreeable at about that time, said she was sure
Tish’s mushrooms were toadstools because she
felt very queer, and suddenly gave a yell and said
she had seen something moving in the bushes.
We all looked, and the bushes were moving.
It was dusk by that time and the path was only a thread
between masses of undergrowth. Tish said if it
was the bear he would be afraid of the fire, so we
put dry leaves in the kettle and made quite a blaze.
By its light Tish read that bears in the summer are
full fed and really frolicsome and that they are awful
cowards. We felt quite cheered and brave, and
Tish said if he came near to throw the fire kettle
at him and he’d probably die of fright.
It was too late to put up the tepee, so we found a
clearing near the path and decided to spend the night
there. Aggie still watched the bushes and wanted
to spend the night in a tree; but Tish’s calmness
was a reproach to us both, and after we had emptied
the kettle and made quite a fire to keep off animals,
we unrolled our blankets and prepared for sleep.
I could have slept anywhere, although I was still rather
hungry. My last view was of Tish in the firelight
grimly bending down a sapling and fastening a rabbit
snare to it.
