ad the
nightmare I suppose, came yawning out of his cave and down the
mountain-side.

He had shambled along to about the centre of the bridge, then lain down
among the wood and gone off to sleep.

He slept so soundly that he did not hear the boys crossing over to set
the bonfire ablaze.

But when the smoke and crackling flames got towards him he started up and
began to trot off, coughing and roaring till all the hills sent back the
sound.

So awful was the echo that the boys were for a time almost
terror-stricken. They thought that about a score of bears had left their
snow-caves and were swarming down the hill.

Tom fired his rifle, but missed. Veevee wanted to follow up.

"Only just let me get at him," cried the little rascal, "and I'll tear
him limb from limb!"

Anyhow that was a fine fire, and it lit up the lake and the woods all
about, while the numerous sparks that rose and fell in the air were like
golden rain.

After the fire began to fade and to die they all returned to their
Christmas dinner in the hut.

No fewer than four candles were lighted to-night, one in each corner of
the room. Oh, Tom meant to do everything in first-class form, I can tell
you!

And I feel pretty certain that even at home in Merrie England no one that
evening ate more heartily or made a better dinner than our Crusoes, all
alone though they were in the far-off Frozen North.

After supper they all came round the fire, and the dogs went off to
sleep, perchance to dream; but the children kept very wide awake indeed.
And Tom told lots of droll, funny stories, and everybody sang songs.
After this, all the talk was about home and the delightful time they were
sure to have in one year's time, when Christmas came round again once
more.

Then came sleep, and when Tom looked at his watch--next morning let me
call it--it was very nearly twelve o'clock!

* * * * *

Although it now wanted but a fortnight, according to Tom's reckoning, of
the first sunrise, it was still as dark as ever, and but for the moon and
stars and glorious Aurora, life about this time would have been very tame
and dreary indeed.

Yet, owing to the clearness of the air and the purity of everything
around them, the children never once lost heart. In fact they were as
merry as sky-larks, and often made the island resound with song and mirth
and laughter.

And the dogs, as well as Flossy, were merrier still. They barked and
lau