“An’ ef Jim Hart had stayed whar he belongs—­that is, right here in this house, cookin’—­he’d have got that b’ar on his back, an’ not me,” said Shif’less Sol, rubbing the bruised place.

“That’s once I wuz luckier than you wuz, Sol Hyde,” said Jim Hart, chuckling.

“We’ve got a lot of fresh bear steak,” said Henry Ware, “but we’ll have to clean up all this mess, and rebuild our house, just as soon as we can.”

They set to work at once.  All, through forest life, had become skillful in such tasks, and it did not take them long to rethatch the roof.  But they made it stronger than ever with cross-poles.  Ingenious Sol cut up the bear hide, and made of it stout leggings for them all, which would serve in the place of boots for wading in the deep snow.

Then the camp returned to its wonted calm.  But a few days later, Shif’less Sol, who had been unusually grave, called Paul aside and asked him to walk with him up the path to the hickory trees.  When they arrived there, far out of hearing of the others, Shif’less Sol said: 

“Do you know what day this is, Paul?”

“Why, no, Sol,” replied Paul.  “What does it matter?”

“It matters a heap,” said Shif’less Sol, not departing one whit from his grave manner.  “I know what day it is.  I’ve kept count.  See here!”

He pointed to a hickory tree.  Clear and smooth was gash after gash, cut in the bark, one above another, by Sol with his stout knife.

“Every one o’ them is a day,” said Shif’less Sol, “an’ to-day is the 24th of December.  Now, what is to-morrow, Paul Cotter?”

“The 25th of December—­Christmas Day.”

“An’ oughtn’t we to hev Christmas, too, even ef we are up here in the wild woods, all by ourselves?  Don’t this look like Christmas?”

Paul looked around at the glittering and magnificent expanse of white wilderness.  There was snow, snow everywhere.  The trees were robed in it, unstained.  It was a world of peace and beauty, and it did look like Christmas.  They were preparing for it at Wareville at this very moment—­the settlers were a religious people, and from the first they celebrated the great religious festival.

“Yes, Sol,” he replied, “it does look like Christmas, and we ought to celebrate it, too.”

“I’m glad you think ez I do,” said Sol, in a tone of relief.  “I wanted to hear what you thought o’ it, Paul, afore I broached it to the other boys.  We’ve got a lot to be glad about.  We’re all here, sound an’ well, an’ though we’ve been through a power o’ dangers, we ain’t sufferin’ now.”

“That’s so,” said Paul.

“Then we’ll tell the boys right now.”

They walked back to the cabin, and Shif’less Sol announced the date to the others, who agreed at once that Christmas should be celebrated by them there on their little island in the wilderness.  All were touched in a way by the solemnity of the event, and they began to feel how strong was the tie that united them.