article which might be designated furniture was the stove, and for this
the men were frank in displaying their preference. Upon half of the
floor pine boughs had been cast; above this were spread the
sleeping-furs, beneath lay the winter's snowfall. The remainder of the
floor was moccasin-packed snow, littered with pots and pans and the
general _impedimenta_ of an Arctic camp. The stove was red and roaring
hot, but only a bare three feet away lay a block of ice, as sharp-edged
and dry as when first quarried from the creek bottom. The pressure of
the outside cold forced the inner heat upward. Just above the stove,
where the pipe penetrated the roof, was a tiny circle of dry canvas;
next, with the pipe always as centre, a circle of steaming canvas; next a
damp and moisture-exuding ring; and finally, the rest of the tent,
sidewalls and top, coated with a half-inch of dry, white,
crystal-encrusted frost.

"_Oh_! OH! OH!" A young fellow, lying asleep in the furs, bearded and
wan and weary, raised a moan of pain, and without waking increased the
pitch and intensity of his anguish. His body half-lifted from the
blankets, and quivered and shrank spasmodically, as though drawing away
from a bed of nettles.

"Roll'm over!" ordered Bettles. "He's crampin'."

And thereat, with pitiless good-will, he was pitched upon and rolled and
thumped and pounded by half-a-dozen willing comrades.

"Damn the trail," he muttered softly, as he threw off the robes and sat
up. "I've run across country, played quarter three seasons hand-running,
and hardened myself in all manner of ways; and then I pilgrim it into
this God-forsaken land and find myself an effeminate Athenian without the