"Have any bones been broken yet?" enquired Ruby, as he shouldered the
large pair of bellows, and followed the smith cautiously over the
rocks.

"Not yet; but there's been an awful lot o' pipes smashed. If it goes
on as it has been, we'll have to take to metal ones. Here we are,
Ruby, this is the forge, and I'll be bound you never worked at such a
queer one before. Hallo! Bremner!" he shouted to one of the men.

"That's me," answered Bremner.

"Bring your irons as soon as you like! I'm about ready for you."

"Ay, ay, here they are," said the man, advancing with an armful of
picks, chisels, and other tools, which required sharpening.

He slipped and fell as he spoke, sending all the tools into the
bottom of a pool of water; but, being used to such mishaps, he arose,
joined in the laugh raised against him, and soon fished up the tools.

"What's wrong!" asked Ruby, pausing in the work of fixing the
bellows, on observing that the smith's face grew pale, and his
general expression became one of horror. "Not sea-sick, I hope?"

"Sea-sick," gasped the smith, slapping all his pockets hurriedly,
"it's worse than that; I've forgot the matches!"

Ruby looked perplexed, but had no consolation to offer.