sible, "Wild
Bill, ye have sartinly got the right idee techin' the makin' of tea
and coffee, fur the yarb should be steeped, and the berry,
too,--leastwise, arter it's biled up once or twice,--and therefore it
be only reasonable that the nozzles should be closed moderately tight;
but a man wants considerable experience in the business, or he's
likely to overdo it jest a leetle, and ef ye don't cut some slots in
them wooden corks ye've driven into them nozzles, Bill, there'll be a
good deal of tea and coffee floatin' round in yer corner of the
fireplace afore many minits, and I conceit there'll be a man about yer
size lookin' fur a couple of corks and pieces of jugs out there in the
clearin', too."

"Do you think so?" answered Bill, incredulously. "Don't you be scared,
old man, but keep on stirring your soup and turning the meat, and I'll
keep my eye on the bottles."

"That's right, Bill," returned the Trapper; "ye keep yer eye right on
'em, specially on that un that's furderest in toward the butt of the
beech log there; fur ef there's any vartue in signs, that jug be
gittin' oneasy. Yis," continued the old man, after a minute's pause,
during which his eye hadn't left the jug, "yis, that jug will want
more room afore many minits, ef I'm any jedge, and I conceit I had
better give it the biggest part of the fireplace;" and the Trapper
hastily moved the soup and his half-dozen plates of cooked meats to
the other end of the hearthstone, whither he retired himself, like one
who, feeling that he is called upon to contend with unknown forces,
wisely beats a retreat. He even put himself behind a stack of wood
that lay piled up in his corner, like one who does not despise, in a
sudden emergency, an artificial protection.

"Bill," called the Trapper, "edge round a leetle,--edge round, and git
in closer to the jamb. It's sheer foolishness standin' where ye be,
fur the water will be wallopin' in a minit, and ef the corks be
swelled in the nozzle, there'll be an explosion. Git in toward the
jamb, and watch the ambushment under kiver."

"Old man," answered Bill, as he turned his back carelessly toward the
fireplace, "I've got the bearin's of this trail, and know what I'm
about. The jugs are as strong as iron kittles, and I ain't afraid of
their bust--"

Bill never finished the sentence, for the explosion predicted by the
Trapper occurred. It was a tremendous one, and the huge fireplace was
filled with flying brands, ashes, and