"Well, then," said he, "I must try the third way."
So he began to gather sticks, and put the ends of them upon the fire. When they began to burn, he took up one; but as soon as he got it off the fire, it began to go out, and he said that he knew that way to kindle a fire never would do. In fact, he began to get out of patience. He threw down the stick, and went off again after Raymond.
"Raymond," said he, "I cannot make my fire burn; and I wish you would come and kindle it for me."
"Have you tried the ways I told you about?"
"Yes," said Caleb.
"Have you tried all of them faithfully?"
"All but the last," said Caleb, "and I know that won't do."
"You must try them all, faithfully, or else I can't come." So saying, Raymond went on with his work.
Caleb went back a good deal out of humour with himself, and saying that he wished Raymond was not so cross. He took up two of the sticks, which were now pretty well on fire, and carried them along, swinging them by the way, to make fiery rings and serpents in the air. When he reached the chimney, he threw them down carelessly, and stood watching them, to see if they were going to burn. Instead, however, of setting the other wood on fire, they only grew dimmer and dimmer themselves; and he said to himself, "I knew they would not burn." Then he sat down upon a log, in a sad state of fretfulness and dissatisfaction.
However, after waiting a few minutes, longer, he went back to the fire, determined to bring all the brands there were, and put them down, though he knew, he said, that they would not burn. He was going to do it, so that then he could go and tell Raymond that he had tried all his plans, and that now he must come, and light the fire himself.
So he walked along, back and forth bringing the brands, and laying them down together near the foot of the heap of fuel in the tree. But before he had brought them all, he found that they began to brighten up a little, and at length they broke out into a little flame. He stood and watched it a few minutes. It blazed up higher and higher. He then put on some more wood which was near. The flame crept up between these sticks, and soon began to snap and crackle among the brush in the tree. Caleb stepped back, and watched the flame a moment as it flashed up higher and higher, and then clapped his hands, jumped up on a log, and shouted out,
"Raymond, it's a-burning, its a-burning."
CHAPTER X. THE CAPTIVE.
When Raymond heard Caleb's voice calling to him so loudly, he paused a moment from his work, and seeing that the fire had actually taken, in earnest, he told Caleb that he must go back a little way, for by-and-bye the tree would fall. So Caleb went back to some distance, and asked Raymond if that was far enough. Raymond said it was, and Raymond then sat down upon a log, with his maple pole in his hand, to watch the progress of the fire.
A dense smoke soon began to pour out of the top of the chimney. The fire roared up through the hollow, and it caught outside too, under the bark, and soon enveloped the whole tree in smoke, sparks, and flame. Large pieces of the blazing bark detached themselves, from time to time, from the side of the tree, and came down, crackling and sparkling to the ground; and the opening below where Caleb had crammed in his fuel, soon glowed like the mouth of a furnace.
Near the top of the tree was an old branch, or rather the stump of an old branch, decayed and blackened, reaching out a little way, like an arm. This was soon enveloped in smoke; and, as Caleb was watching it, as it appeared and disappeared in the wreaths, he thought he saw something move. He looked again, intently. It was a squirrel,-half suffocated in the smoke, and struggling to hold on. Caleb immediately called out to Raymond as loud as he could call,
"Raymond, Raymond, come here, quick: here is a poor squirrel burning up."
Raymond dropped his axe, and ran,-bounding over the logs, and hummocks; but before he reached the place, the squirrel, unable to hold on any longer, and half stifled with the smoke and scorching heat, dropped from his hold to the ground. Raymond came up at the moment, and seized him; he brought him to where Caleb was sitting,-Caleb himself eagerly coming forward to see.
"Is it dead?" said Caleb.
"Pretty much," said Raymond. The squirrel lay gasping helplessly in Raymond's hands. "Here, put him in my cap," said Caleb; "that will make a good bed for him, and perhaps he will come to life again."
Raymond examined him pretty carefully, and he did not seem to be burnt. He said he thought he must have been suffocated by breathing the smoke and hot air. Raymond then went back to his work, and Caleb sat upon the log, watching alternately the squirrel and the burning tree.
In a few minutes a great flame flashed out at the top of the tree: and finally, after about half an hour, the whole trunk, being all in a blaze, from top to bottom, began slowly to bend and bend over.
"Raymond," shouted Caleb,-"Raymond, look;-it is going to fall!"
The tall trunk moved at first slowly, but soon more and more rapidly, and finally came down to the ground with a crash.
The crash startled the little squirrel, so that he almost regained his feet; and Caleb was afraid that he was going to run away. But he laid over again upon his side, and was soon quiet again as before.
Not long after this, Raymond finished his work, and prepared to go home. He proposed to Caleb that they should leave the squirrel there, upon the log; but Caleb was very desirous to carry him home, because, he said, he could tame him, and give him to Mary Anna. So Raymond asked how they should contrive to carry him. Caleb wanted to carry him home in his cap; but Raymond said that he would take cold by riding home bare-headed. "However," said Raymond, "Perhaps I can contrive something." So he went after another piece of birch bark from the tree, about six inches wide, and two feet long, and rolled it over, bringing the two ends together, so as to make a sort of round box,-only it was without top or bottom. To keep it in shape he tied a string round it.
"But how are you going to keep him in?" asked Caleb.
Raymond said nothing, but he took a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket, and spread it out upon the ground, and put his birch bark box upon it. He then laid the squirrel gently in upon the handkerchief, which thus served for a bottom. Next he drew the corners of the handkerchief up over the top, and tied the opposite pairs of ends together. Thus the handkerchief served for top, bottom, and handle.
They soon reached the place where they had left the cart; they got into it and rode on. Caleb held the squirrel in his lap, and of course, as there was nothing but the thin handkerchief for a bottom to the box, Caleb felt the weight of the squirrel, pressing soft and warm upon his knees. The squirrel lay very still until they got very near home, and then Caleb began to feel a creeping sensation, as if he was beginning to move. Caleb was highly delighted to perceive these signs of returning life; he held his knees perfectly still, that he might not disturb him, crying out, however, to Raymond,
"He's moving, Raymond; he's moving, he's moving."
CHAPTER XI. MARY ANNA.
Caleb and Raymond reached home about the middle of the afternoon: and while Raymond went into the yard to leave the cart and turn out the cattle, Caleb pressed eagerly into the house, to shew his prize. Mary Anna, or Marianne, as they generally called her, came to meet him to see what he had got in his hand.
"Is that my birch bark?" said she.
"There! I forgot your birch bark," said Caleb.-"But I have got something here a great deal better." And so saying he put his handkerchief down, and began very eagerly to untie the knots.
When he had got two of the ends untied, and was at work upon the other two, out leaped the squirrel, and ran across the room. Mary Anna, startled by the sudden appearance of the animal, ran off to the door, and Caleb called out in great distress, "O dear! O dear! What shall I do? He'll get away. Shut the door, Mary Anna,-shut the door, quick! call Raymond; call Raymond."