The gale that had racked the world had passed, but a brisk breeze was blowing down from the north, sharp with winter cold.  The sea, too, had subsided, though even yet big rollers were driving and pounding upon the rocky shore.

“Now,” said Bobby, “with the first calm night, when the water quiets down, the bay will freeze, and then I can walk in on the ice.  But they’ll have to hurry in from the seal hunt or they’ll be caught out there and won’t be able to bring the boat in this winter.  I can stand it a little while, and I hope the freeze-up won’t come till they get back home.”

But Bobby lost no time in needless calculation.  What was of highest immediate importance was the satisfaction of his appetite, which as usual was protesting against delay.

He had been eating raw sea pigeon quite long enough, and he proposed now to enjoy the great treat of a grilled bird.  And so without troubling himself with vain regrets of what he might have done or might not have done, he proceeded to fetch wood from his cave and to build a fire, and a good one it was to be, too, in the lee of his bowlder.  And when the wood was crackling merrily he made a comfortable seat of boughs upon which to sit while he cooked and ate the one sea pigeon which he allowed himself.

Bobby had never eaten a sea pigeon that seemed quite so small as that one, and it required a large degree of self-denial and self-restraint to observe the rule of economy which he had imposed upon himself on the evening he was wrecked.  He had decided then that two sea pigeons a day, one in the morning and one in the evening, were all he could afford.  For who could tell how long it might be before he would make his escape?  And there were no birds or other game to be had on the island at this season, and when those he had were gone there would be hungry days to face.  Though he declared to himself when picking the last bone of his breakfast that he could never possibly be any hungrier than at that very moment.

Nor could he afford a large fire in future.  He calculated that he had already collected enough wood to last him, with small and carefully constructed fires, one day, and a survey of the island and its possibilities revealed the fact that all the additional fuel he could garner from the rocks would scarcely last him, even with rigid economy, another week.

While confined to his cave during the period of the blizzard he had satisfied his thirst with bits of ice.  Now his fire was built close to a little hollow in the rock, and, placing snow near the fire, it melted, and the water running into the hollow settled there, and gave him drink.

And so, making the best of his resources, Bobby prepared for his siege, which he felt quite sure would end only when the bay froze and he could make his escape over the ice.  A great part of the daylight hours were spent in collecting bits of wood.  This kept him exercising, and kept his blood warm.