We kept the fire going for more than an hour, until all the remaining
snow was thawed and the frost and wet thoroughly dried out, and until
the rocks had become so hot that we could hardly touch them. Then, after
hauling away the brands and embers, we brushed the place clean with
green boughs, and thus made for ourselves a warm, dry spot between the
rocks.
With poles and green boughs, we made for our shelter a roof that was
tight enough to keep out the snow. Except that we made a little mat of
bark and dry fir brush, to lie on, and that Addison brought an armful of
curled bark from the birches and a quantity of dry sticks to burn now
and then, that was the extent of our preparation for the night. We had
as warm and comfortable a den as any one could wish for.
We decided not to cook our partridge, but to eat the food in our basket.
After our meal we got a drink of water at the brook, then crawled inside
our den and--as Maine woodsmen say--"pulled the hole in after us," by
stopping it with boughs.
"Now, let it storm!" Addison exclaimed.
Taking off our jackets and spreading them over us, we cuddled down there
by the warm rocks, and there we passed the night safely and by no means
uncomfortably.
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