“No, I weren’t thinkin’ to tell he when we goes in to eat, and he weren’t wantin’ us in before that fearin’ we’d wake Lem.  The tracks weren’t of much account whatever.  The folk that shot Lem were leavin’ in a boat and we couldn’t track the boat to find out who ’twere.”

A drizzling rain began to fall before they made camp that night.  It was too wet and dreary under the dripping trees for an open camp fire.  The stove was therefore brought into service and set up in the tent, and there they cooked and ate their supper by candle-light.

On a cold and stormy night there is no article in the camp equipment more useful than a little sheet-iron stove.  With its magic touch it transforms a wet and dismal tent into the snuggest and cosiest and most comfortable retreat in the whole world.  Outside the wind was now dashing the rain in angry gusts against the canvas, and moaning drearily through the tree tops.  Within the fire crackled cheerily.  The tent was dry and snug and warm.  The bed of fragrant balsam and spruce boughs, the smell of the fire and the soft candle-light combined to give it an indescribable atmosphere of luxury.

In the morning the weather had not improved.  The wind had risen during the night, and was driving the rain in sheets over the Bay.  David went outside to make a survey, and when he returned he reported: 

“’Twill be a nasty day abroad.”

“Let’s bide here till the rain stops,” suggested Jamie.

“The wind’s fair, and if she keeps up and don’t turn too strong we’ll make Fort Pelican by evenin’ whatever, if we goes,” David objected.

“’Twon’t be so bad, once we’re out and gets used to un,” said Andy.

“No, ’twon’t be so bad,” urged David.  “The wind may shift and fall calm, when the rain’s over, and if we bides here we’ll lose time in gettin’ to Fort Pelican.  I’m for goin’ and makin’ the best of un.”

“I won’t mind un,” agreed Jamie, stoutly.

“I got grit to travel in the rain, and we wants to make a fast cruise of un.”

It was “nasty” indeed when after breakfast they broke camp and set sail.  In a little while they were wet to the skin, and it was miserably cold; but they were used enough to the beat of wind and rain in their faces, and all declared that it was not “so bad” after all.  To these hardy lads of The Labrador rain and cold was no great hardship.  It was all in a day’s work, and scudding along before a good breeze, and looking forward to a good dinner in the kitchen at Fort Pelican, and to a snug bed at night, they quite forgot the cold and rain.

During the morning the wind shifted to the westward, and before noon it drew around to the north-west.  With the shift of wind the rain ceased, and the clouds broke.  Then Andy lighted a fire in the stove, boiled the kettle and fried a pan of salt pork.  Hot tea, with bread dipped in the warm pork grease, warmed them and put them in high spirits.