uickly as possible, a great roaring fire is built up, and our breakfast
of strong tea and fat meat is prepared and eaten with all speed.

There were times when the morning outlook was gloomy indeed, and our
position was not an enviable one. On one of my trips, of only a hundred
and eighty miles, in order to save expense, I only took with me one
companion, and he was a young Indian lad of about sixteen years of age.
We each had our own train of dogs, and as Old Voyager was leader we
guided him by voice alone, and he did not disappoint us. One morning,
when we sprang up from our wintry camp-bed, we found that several inches
of snow had fallen upon us during the night. As soon as possible we
arranged our wood in order and endeavoured to kindle our fire. We had
been late the previous evening in reaching this camping place, and so
had to grope around in the rapidly increasing darkness for our wood. It
was of very inferior quality, but as we had succeeded in cooking our
suppers with part of it, we had not anticipated any trouble with the
rest. The snow which had fallen upon it had not improved it, and so, as
we lighted match after match, we were at first disgusted, and then
alarmed, at finding that the poor stuff persistently refused to ignite.
Of course we had to take our hands out of our big fur mits when trying
to light the matches. Before we had succeeded in our attempts to start
the fire our hands began to chill, and soon they were so powerless that
we were not able to hold a match in our fingers. Very naturally we
became alarmed, but we persevered as long as possible. I remember that,
taking one of the matches between my teeth and holding up an axe before
me, I tried to jerk my head quick enough to light it in that way, but
the experiment was not a success.

Suddenly there came the consciousness that we were not far from
perishing if we could not make a fire. I quickly turned to my young
comrade, and saw by the look in his face that he also grasped the
situation, and was terrified at the outlook.

"Alec," I said, "this is a serious thing for us."

"Yes, Missionary," said he. "I am afraid we die here. If we can make
no fire and have no breakfast, I am afraid we will freeze to death."

"Not so bad as that yet, Alec," I said. "God is our refuge and help.
He has given us other ways by which we can get warm. As quickly as
possible get on your snow-shoes, and up with your hood and on with your
mits, and I wi