the Eskimos, and the probability of the fire bringing them from
wherever they had sought shelter from the storm, was secondary to
the alarming necessity which faced him. Because of his
restlessness and his desire to be ready for any emergency he had
not undressed when he threw himself on his bunk that night, but he
was without a coat or cap. And Celie! He cried out aloud in his
anguish when he stopped just outside the deadline of the furnace
of flame that was once the cabin, and standing there with clenched
hands he cursed himself for the carelessness that had brought her
face to face with a peril deadlier than the menace of the Eskimos
or Bram Johnson's wolves. He alone was responsible. His
indiscretion in overfilling the stove had caused the fire, and in
that other moment--when he might have snatched up more than the
bearskin--his mind had failed to act.

In the short space he stood there helplessly in the red heat of
the fire the desperateness of the situation seared itself like the
hot flame itself in his brain. As prisoners in Bram's cabin,
guarded by the wolves and attacked by the Eskimos, they still had
shelter, food, clothing--a chance to live, at least the chance to
fight. And now--

He put a hand to his bare head and faced the direction of the
storm. With the dying away of the wind snow had begun to fall, and
with this snow he knew there would come a rising temperature. It
was probably twenty degrees below zero, and unless the wind went
down completely his ears would freeze in an hour or two. Then he
thought of the thick German socks he wore. One of them would do
for a cap. His mind worked swiftly after that. There was, after
all, a tremendous thrill in the thought of fighting the odds