cut it down in quick time with our axe, chopped off some punky lengths of the trunk, tied one of our painters to the remainder, and "snaked" it out of the underbrush. The dry branches broke and burned like tinder, and the larger ones, with the trunk, made us a roaring fire till morning. That night for supper we broiled some bacon and boiled some tinned beef, putting in a lot of Liebig's extract. Then coffee, eked out with our precious but ill-fated butter and marmalade.
Then—let us tell the truth, so that the price may be paid—we went to a stack of coarse hay in the meadow, and took two great armfuls, which we spread in our tent, and which was softer that night than down-of-eider. About the hour of this dark deed, the full moon rose over the hills and sailed into a sky black-blue, starlit, and absolutely clear from mist or cloud. The only vapor to be seen was a slight smoke that clung in a thin, wavy line to the middle of the river. The only sound, except our own voices, was the screech of an owl on the hills and the leap of the bass in the water.
The night was breathless; but we raised the bottom of the tent, and made a pleasant draft. Before ten o'clock we were asleep. How long that sleep lasted I cannot tell—perhaps three hours; but it was ended in a most awful uproar.