It was intensely cold, and
in order to have a fire we were compelled to hold the pipe down on the
little conical camp stove, for with the flopping of the tent and fly,
the pipe was in constant motion. Faye would hold it for a while, then
I would relieve him, and so on. The holding-down business was very
funny for an hour or two, but in time it became monotonous.
We got through the night very well, but did not sleep much. The
tearing and snapping of tents, and the shouting of the men when a tent
would fall upon them was heard frequently, and when we looked out in
the morning the camp had the appearance of having been struck by a
cyclone! Two thirds of the tents were flat on the ground, others were
badly torn, and the unfinished log quarters only added to the
desolation. Snow was over everything ten or twelve inches deep. But
the wind had gone down and the atmosphere was wonderfully clear, and
sparkling, and full of frost.
Dinner the evening before had not been a success, so we were very
prompt to the nice hot breakfast Charlie gave us. That Chinaman has
certainly been a great comfort on this trip. The doctor came over
looking cross and sick. He said at once that we had been wise in
remaining in our comfortable tents, that everybody in the log houses
was sneezing and complaining of stiff joints. The logs have not been
chinked yet, and, as might have been expected, wind and snow swept
through them.
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