not catch. He then tried the bit of hoop iron, which would not
strike fire at all; and after that the back of the axe, with no
better success. During all these trials Peterkin sat with his
hands in his pockets, gazing with a most melancholy visage at our
comrade, his face growing longer and more miserable at each
successive failure.

"Oh dear!" he sighed, "I would not care a button for the cooking of
our victuals, - perhaps they don't need it, - but it's so dismal to
eat one's supper in the dark, and we have had such a capital day,
that it's a pity to finish off in this glum style. Oh, I have it!"
he cried, starting up; "the spy-glass, - the big glass at the end
is a burning-glass!"

"You forget that we have no sun," said I.

Peterkin was silent. In his sudden recollection of the telescope
he had quite overlooked the absence of the sun.

"Ah, boys, I've got it now!" exclaimed Jack, rising and cutting a
branch from a neighbouring bush, which be stripped of its leaves.
"I recollect seeing this done once at home. Hand me the bit of
whip-cord." With the cord and branch Jack soon formed a bow. Then
he cut a piece, about three inches long, off the end of a dead
branch, which he pointed at the two ends. Round this he passed the
cord of the bow, and placed one end against his chest, which was
protected from its point by a chip of wood; the other point he
placed against the bit of tinder, and then began to saw vigorously
with the bow, just as a blacksmith does with his drill while boring
a hole in a piece of iron. In a few seconds the tinder began to