something interesting should be lost, I ventured:

"Was it the Bishop or the Commissioner that made the trouble?"

"No, sir, neither; 'twas the Archdeacon," replied the old man as he
withdrew his pipe and rubbed his smarting eyes clear of the smoke from
the blazing logs. Taking a few short draws at the tobacco, he
continued:

"There was three of us, me an' Archdeacon Lofty an' Captain Hawser, who
was commandin' one of the Company's boats that was a-goin' to winter in
Hudson Bay. It happened in September. The three of us was hoofin' it
along the great barren shore o' the bay. In some places the shore was
that flat that every time the tide came in she flooded 'bout all the
country we could see, an' we had a devil of a time tryin' to keep clear
o' the mud. We had a few dogs along to help pack our beddin', but,
nevertheless, it was hard work; for we was carryin' most of our outfit
on our backs.

"One evenin' just before sundown we stumbled upon a lot o' driftwood
scattered all about the flats. As so much wood was lyin' around handy,
we decided to spend the night on a little knoll that rose above
high-water mark. For the last few days we had seen so little wood that
any of our fires could 'a' been built in a hat. But that night the
sight o' so much wood fairly set the Archdeacon crazy with delight, an'
nothin' would do but we must have a great roarin' fire to sleep by. I
would have enjoyed a good warmin' as well as any one, but I was mighty
leary about havin' a big fire. So I cautioned the Archdeacon not to
use much wood as there was likely to be bears about, an' that no matter
how far off they was, if they saw that fire they would make for