“This’ll never do.  I’ll try to git up a fire,” said Dick, jumping up in desperation.

“Ye may save yerself the trouble,” remarked Joe dryly—­at least as dryly as was possible in the circumstances.

However, Dick did try, but he failed signally.  Everything was soaked and saturated.  There were no large trees; most of the bushes were green, and the dead ones were soaked.  The coverings were slobbery, the skins they sat on were slobbery, the earth itself was slobbery; so Dick threw his blanket (which was also slobbery) round his shoulders, and sat down beside his companions to grin and bear it.  As for Joe and Henri, they were old hands and accustomed to such circumstances.  From the first they had resigned themselves to their fate, and wrapping their wet blankets round them sat down, side by side, wisely to endure the evils that they could not cure.

There is an old rhyme, by whom composed we know not, and it matters little, which runs thus,—­

  “For every evil under the sun
  There is a remedy—­or there’s none. 
  If there is—­try and find it;
  If there isn’t—­never mind it!”

There is deep wisdom here in small compass.  The principle involved deserves to be heartily recommended.  Dick never heard of the lines, but he knew the principle well, so he began to “never mind it” by sitting down beside his companions and whistling vociferously.  As the wind rendered this a difficult feat, he took to singing instead.  After that he said, “Let’s eat a bite, Joe, and then go to bed.”

“Be all means,” said Joe, who produced a mass of dried deer’s meat from a wallet.

“It’s cold grub,” said Dick, “and tough.”

But the hunters’ teeth were sharp and strong, so they ate a hearty supper and washed it down with a drink of rain water collected from a pool on the top of their hut.  They now tried to sleep, for the night was advancing, and it was so dark that they could scarce see their hands when held up before their faces.  They sat back to back, and thus, in the form of a tripod, began to snooze.  Joe’s and Henri’s seasoned frames would have remained stiff as posts till morning; but Dick’s body was young and pliant, so he hadn’t been asleep a few seconds when he fell forward into the mud and effectually awakened the others.  Joe gave a grunt, and Henri exclaimed, “Hah!” but Dick was too sleepy and miserable to say anything.  Crusoe, however, rose up to show his sympathy, and laid his wet head on his master’s knee as he resumed his place.  This catastrophe happened three times in the space of an hour, and by the third time they were all awakened up so thoroughly that they gave up the attempt to sleep, and amused each other by recounting their hunting experiences and telling stories.  So engrossed did they become that day broke sooner than they had expected, and just in proportion as the gray light of dawn rose higher into the eastern sky did the spirits of these weary men rise within their soaking bodies.