“Oh, but, Tom,” said Pansy, “we’ll all be home long, long before Christmas, won’t we?”

Poor child!  She was beginning to long for her mother’s cosy cottage on the cliff, and for the fires that in the long winter evenings always burned so brightly in the parlour grate.

“Now, about light for the long Arctic winter night, which will soon be here?”

This was the question that Tom put to Frank just after sunset one beautiful evening as the snow on the tops of the highest mountains was changed to a rose tint in the sun’s parting rays.

“It is a very serious question, you know,” he added.

“Very serious,” said Pansy, who heard him, shaking her wise, wee head.

Sitting by the camp fire there, with its lights and shadows chasing each other over her face and through her sunny hair, Pansy looked a very beautiful child indeed.

For some time they had all been sitting round the fire, watching the curling smoke and the dancing flames, everyone intent on his or her own thoughts.  Aralia had been wondering what they were all doing at home, and if her father and mother were anxious about her and Pansy.  It was such a long, long time—­hundreds of years it seemed—­since they had sailed away; so many strange things had happened since that day.  Pansy was a little maiden who took the world very easily, and enjoyed each day and hour as it passed.  Her thoughts were hardly worth a penny.  Frank was not unlike Pansy, and took things as they came, and if they were not nice, just let them slide.  The mastiff was asleep, so was Veevee, and both seemed to be dreaming, and talking in their dreams.  But Flossy’s eyes were very wide open now.  She was really wondering if she could catch another fish to-night.  Flossy had lately taken to waddling away towards evening for a swim in the warm lake, and never came back without something in her mouth.

So nobody was surprised when they missed her from the fire, only, as she stayed rather longer to-night than usual, and as the long twilight would soon end, Tom took up his rifle and went off all by himself to look for her.

“Oh, dear!” cried Pansy, as the sound of a shot startled everyone in the fort.  “Tom’s gone and killed something!”

“Let’s run and see,” said Frank.  Veevee and Briton had already rushed off.

They found Tom at the lake-side, standing over a huge dead bear, with Flossy near him.

“That bear,” said Tom, laughing, “was keeping poor Floss in the lake; but he won’t do so again.  Isn’t he a fine one?”

“Yes,” cried Frank; “he is indeed.”

“And now, children,” said Tom, when he was once more seated in front of the camp fire, “the question of lights is settled for good.  Frank and I are going to make candles out of that bear’s tallow.”

“Yes, Pansy, we are.  Oh, we shouldn’t be half Crusoes if we couldn’t make candles!”

So the boys arranged to start work the very next morning at sunrise.