CHAPTER XV. 
UNDER THE EARTH. 
RS. BUTTON had barely time to draw Flossie 
into the shelter of one of the chimneys of the 
old fort, still standing, when the storm burst 
upon them in all its fury. The men occupied themselves 
in covering the goods on the raft, and making everything 
fast. The wind increased in violence from moment to 
moment, and the rain came down in torrents. 
Fortunately, there remained the greater part of the fire- 
place, at the base of the chimney. It was as large as a 
fair-sized bedroom would be in our own part of the coun- 
try. Evidently, the early traders had intended to keep 
warm during the long, terrible winters of the North, where 
even the Indians do not venture far from their huts, and 
the desolate forests and bare, mossy plains are left to the 
undisputed reign of the moose, the wolf, and the caribou. 
Although the rain trickled down the sides of the chim- 
ney, the dismayed little company in the old fireplace soon 
perceived that the small rivulets finding their way over 
the rough bricks did not increase in size. They afterward 
learned that the fur-traders had an ingenious contrivance, 
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