forth,
Jonas Bellew, looking over the edge of a black hole that was
disagreeably suggestive of a tomb, could dimly perceive a stretch of
cold, grey, ghostly forest, through the openings of which hummocks of
ice could be seen floating away over the black waters of the sea. The
little starlight that prevailed only served to render darkness visible,
and thus to increase the desolate aspect of the scene. But when the
ruddy flames began to shoot forth and tip with a warm glow the nearest
projections, they brought out in startling prominence the point of
Bellew's nose and the bowl of his little pipe. Continuing to gain
strength they seemed to weaken the force of distant objects in
proportion as they intensified those that were near. The pale woods and
dark waters outside deepened into invisible black, while the snow-walls
of Bellew's chamber glowed as if on fire, and sparkled as if set with
diamonds. The tree stem became a ruddy column, with Bellew's shadow
lying black as ink against it, and the branches above became like a
red-hot roof.

It may, perhaps, be supposed that the snow-walls melted under this
ordeal; nothing of the sort. Their tendency to do so was checked
effectually, not only by a sharp frost, but by the solid backing of snow
behind them; and the little that did give way in close proximity to the
fire ran unobtrusively down to the earth and crept away under the snow
towards the sea, for Bellew had made his camp with the fire at its lower
end, so that not a drop of water could by any means reach the spot
whereon he lay.

Having stuffed his little tin can or kettle with snow, he put this on
the fire to melt, and then spread out his bacon and biscuit, and sugar
and tea, all of which being in course of time prepared, he sat down to
enjoy himself, and felt, as well as looked, supremely happy.

Then Jonas Bellew went on his knees and prayed--for he was one of those
men who do not think it unmanly to remember the Giver of all that they
enjoy--and thereafter he rolled himself in his blanket, pillowed his
head on the tree-root, and sank into profound repose--such repose as is
known only to healthy infants and hard-working men and women. Little by
little the fire burnt low, the ruddy lights grew dim, the pale lights
reappeared, and the encampment resumed its tomb-like appearance until
the break of another day gave it a new aspect and caused Jonas Bellew to
rise, yawn, shake the hoar-frost from his blanket, pack