"Tom _did_ tell us to," admitted Helen, laughing. "But I didn't
pay much attention to what he said. I know he told us that we could
never tell when matches would come in handy in the woods."

"But we'd set the forest afire--and then see what damage would be
done!" cried Belle.

"Not necessarily. Especially in this snow," returned Ruth, calmly.
"If we get very cold, and are delayed for long, we can break the dry
branches off underneath this tree--and others like it--and get a fire
very easily. Tom told us how to do it."

"So he did!" cried Helen. "I do believe Ruth never forgets anything
she is told. And we may be glad of those matches."

"Goodness me!" whined Lluella. "Don't talk so dreadfully."

"How do you mean?" queried Helen.

"As though we'd have to stay here under this old tree so long! It's
_got_ to stop snowing soon. Or else the men will come after us."

"Why, we all believe that we shall soon get home," said Madge
cheerfully. "But the boys, or the men, either, couldn't find us in
this storm. We will have to be patient."

Patience was hard indeed to cultivate in their present situation.
The minutes dragged by with funereal slowness. Lluella began to sob,
and the most cheerful of the party could not keep up her spirits
indefinitely.