70 THE BED MOUNTAIN OF ALASKA. 
ally throwing in bits of wood, until his dream carried him 
elsewhere. 
The next morning Lex was waked by hearing Bess 
crying softly beside him. 
" What's de matter, Bess ? " he asked, sleepily. 
" I'se s-so cold ! " she sobbed, cuddling up close to him. 
But mammy's ears had caught the sound too, and she 
was beside her little black lambs in a moment, covering 
them with the shawl she had worn the night before. As 
she did so, Lex felt something soft and warm between 
him and Bess. It was the white kitten. It struck Lex 
as strange that the white kitten should prefer his bed to 
the floor underneath the stove, where she was usually 
found on other mornings. At that same moment he 
observed that the steam was not puffing from the tea- 
kettle, as was its wont. 
" Wh-what's de matter wid de stove, mammy ? " he 
stammered, rubbing his eyes. 
Doan you bodder yo' head 'bout dat ar stove," said 
Chloe, with great cheerfulness. " I jes' let de fire go 
down a little b'fo' breakfas', dat's all." 
" B-but — whar's de table ?" 
Chloe turned her head away at first, without answer- 
ing. She had loved the little four-foot table, at which 
she and her husband had sat so often, and it had been a 
sore sacrifice to burn it up. But she had all her mother- 
hood stirred in defence of her children. She fought the 
cold as if it had been a living thing. 
