refill it with water—Jim, there's business for you!—and then wash them in that."
"That's a matter never bothered me much when I was camping," added Tug, dryly. "I just scrubbed the plates with a wisp of grass, and cleaned the knives and forks by jabbing 'em into the ground a few times."
While the dishes were washing Aleck opened the tent bundle, and laid the mast across two pegs that somebody had driven into the north wall of the room just under the ceiling beams, perhaps to hang fishing-poles on. Then, with Tug's aid, he tied to the mast the inner hem of the sail-cloth, which thus hung loosely against the wall, like a big curtain, shutting out every draught.
"That's splendid!" cried Katy, watching them from the end of the room where the fire was.
"So is this!" came a voice from overhead, making them all look up in surprise.
It was Jim, who, unnoticed by any one, had clambered into the loft, which had been floored over about two thirds of the room, and who was now thrusting his red face down through the open part.
"What do you think I've found?"
"Give it up. I knew of a man who died after asking conundrums all his life," answered Tug, gravely, "and I've fought shy of 'em since."
"Tell us at once, Jimkin," called out Aleck.
"Straw!" shouted Jim.
"Pshaw!" was the next rejoinder heard.
"No rhymes, Katy," Aleck admonished. "Is it clean, Youngster?"
"Cleaner than he is, I should say, by his face," said Tug, and with some reason, for the loft was dusty.
"Don't know; you can see for yourself," and down came a great yellow armful.
It was pounced upon, and, proving dry and fresh, the delighted Jim was ordered to send down all he could find, which was laid on the floor, not far from the fire, and covered with the spare canvas. This made a soft sort of mattress, upon which each one could spread his blankets, and sleep with great comfort, since there was plenty for all.
"Sha'n't have so good a bed as this another night," groaned Aleck.
"Can't tell—maybe better!" said the cheerful Tug.
The warmest place was set apart for Katy, and Aleck made a small screen, covered with a newspaper curtain, which separated her from the other three, who were to sleep side by side. These preparations made, the fire was heaped high with fresh wood, and then the little quartet took their ease, lounging on the springy straw before it, and indulging in a quiet talk over the busy day just finished, or what they were likely to meet on the morrow.
Aleck said something about being able to travel by compass in case they were caught in a snow-storm, which was what he dreaded the most, when Jim asked him to explain the compass to him, leaving Katy's side and going over to where his big brother was stretched out at the other corner of the fireplace. The girl, thus deserted, went to the valise in which she kept her small articles, and came back with a book.
Chapter VI.
Norse Tales
"What are you reading?" asked Tug, who was the last boy in the world to be interested in a book, unless it was one about animals, but who had nothing else to do just then.
"A book of old stories."
"What about?—adventures, and things of that sort?"
"Partly. Some of them are fairy stories—about queer little people, and animals that talk, and heavenly beings that help lost children, and people that have hard times."
"Why, those are the very fellows we want to see. Let's hear about 'em—mebbe we can give 'em a job."
"Well, if you would like it, I'll read you this story I've just begun," said Katy, good-naturedly.
"Much obliged. I think that would be tip-top."
So Katy read to him, as he lounged on the straw and gazed into the bright fire, an old myth-story of the North Wind. How, away in a far corner of Norway, there once lived a widow with one son. It was midwinter, and she was weak, so the lad was obliged to go to the "safe" (or cellar dug near the house, where the food was kept) to bring the materials for the morning meal. The first time he went, and the second, and again, at the third attempt, the fierce North Wind blew the food out of his hands. These three losses vexed the lad greatly, and he resolved to go to the North Wind and demand the food back. After long travelling he found the home of the giant, far towards the pole, and made his demand. The North Wind heard him, and gave him a cloth which would serve all the finest dishes in the world whenever the boy chose to spread it and call for them. On his way home he stopped at a tavern for the night, and, spreading his cloth, had a feast. The landlady was astonished, as well she might be, and thinking what a useful thing such a tablecloth would be in a hotel, she stole it while the lad was asleep, and put in its place one that looked like it, but which had no secret power.
The lad, not suspecting the change, went home, and boasted gleefully to his mother of what he had brought. But when he tried it, of course the false cloth could do nothing, and the old lady both laughed at him and scolded him. Vexed again, the lad hastened back, and accused the North Wind of fraud. So the giant gave him a ram which would coin golden ducats when commanded. Stopping at the tavern as before, the landlord exchanged this remarkable animal for one from his own common flock, and the lad found himself fooled a second time. Going back a third time, he told the story to the North Wind, who gave the angry lad a stout stick which, when it had been told to "lay on," would never cease striking till the lad bade it to stop.
At the tavern, the landlord, thinking there was some useful enchantment in the stick, tried to steal it also, but the boy was wide awake. He shouted, "Lay on," and the landlord found himself being clubbed till he was nearly dead, and gave back all that he had taken. Then the boy went home, and he and his mother lived rich and happy ever afterwards.
Tug's vigorous applause aroused the attention of the other two, who may have been listening a little, and Aleck asked what the book was.
"Dr. Dasent's 'Norse Tales,'" Katy replied.
"Who or what is 'Norse'?" Jim inquired.
This was a question Tug had been wanting to ask too, but had felt ashamed to expose his ignorance—one of the few things not really mean which a boy has a right to be ashamed of.
"The Norse people," Katy said, "are the people of Scandinavia (or the Northmen, as they were called in ancient times), and these stories are those that old people have told their children in Norway and Sweden for—oh! for hundreds of years. Many are about animals, and others—"
"Give us one about an animal," Tug interrupted.
Very well, here's one that tells why the bear has so short a tail:
One day the Bear met the Fox, who came slinking along with a string of fish he had stolen.
'Whence did you get these?' asked the Bear.
'Oh, my Lord Bruin, I've been out fishing, and caught them,' said the Fox.
So the Bear had a mind to learn to fish too, and bade the Fox tell him how he was to set about it.
'Oh, it's an easy craft for you,' said the Fox, 'and one soon learned. You've only to go upon the ice, and cut a hole, and stick your tail down into it; and so you must go on holding it there as long as you can. You're not to mind if your tail smarts a little; that's when the fish bite. The longer you hold it, the more fish you'll get; and then, all at once, out with it, with a cross pull sideways, and with a strong pull too.'
Yes; the Bear did as the Fox said, and held his tail a long, long time down in the hole, until it was fast frozen in. Then he pulled it out with a cross pull, and it snapped short off. That's why Bruin goes about with a stumpy tail to this day.