"In that case, let us stick as closely to the river as possible."
"Why?"
"We can get fish then, if we need 'em."
No more was said, and the guide at once led the way to a thick camp of cedars growing but a rod away from the edge of the river. The cedars formed something of a circle, about fifteen feet in diameter, and by clearing out some brush wood in the center they made quite a cozy resting place. On the outside the cedars were laced together, and the snow was banked up on all sides, leaving but one opening, two feet wide and several feet high, for the purpose of supplying them with fresh air.
By the time the shelter was ready for use all the boys were so fagged out they could scarcely stand. Dick and the guide had brought blankets with them, and one of these was placed over the opening temporarily, to keep out a large part of the wind. Then a candle was lit and John Barrow burnt up a little brushwood, "jest to take the chill outer the place," as he explained. They did not dare to let the flames grow too high for fear of setting fire to the cedars themselves.
As the boys lay on the brushwood resting, they heard the wind outside increasing in violence, and saw the cedars bend to and fro, and listened to them creak dismally.
