148 THE BARREN-GROUND CARIBOU 



up in position — and this was the manner of roast- 

 ing our final tit-bit before going to sleep for the 

 night. They are glorious, those night fires of a 

 winter camp, not only warmth and light, but 

 cheerful withal — the home-fire of the trail, where 

 there is real content in the mind of the wayfarer 

 as he watches the flames that incessantly shoot 

 upward in bright spiral lines to wriggle like 

 snakes into space or snap into tiny floating sparks 

 which die out in the blackness and chillness of 

 the surrounding night. 



It snowed heavily overnight, and we awoke 

 in the morning to thrust our heads through the 

 foot of snow that covered us in our sleeping 

 bags : the thermometer had dropped also over- 

 night ; and altogether it was in no way pleasant 

 in camp before we got a roaring fire kindled. 

 Fire and tea and breakfast soon warmed us up ; 

 and about daylight the sky cleared, and the snow, 

 while a strong biting north wind sprung up. 



At breakfast I amused and interested Philip 

 in telling him of a strange dream I had had in the 

 night. It was this : He (Philip) was driving his 

 dog-team in a strange foreign country, when, 

 while he stopped to shoot at something, his 

 dogs ran away with the driverless sled, and it was 

 finally seen careering through the streets of a 

 great city. At this time, by arrangement of 

 the strange freak settings with which dreams are 

 embodied, Eaglefoot and I were coming along a 

 side street in the same strange city when we saw 

 Philip's dog-team tearing past on the main 

 street like animals possessed; both of us gave 

 chase. At a corner, where the sled slewed 



