We bitterly execrated the Indians, the hunters and the books that had betrayed us with the silly device, and wondered dismally what was next to be done.

At this critical moment Mr.Ballou fished out four matches from the rubbish of an overlooked pocket.

To have found four gold bars would have seemed poor and cheap good luck compared to this.
One cannot think how good a match looks under such circumstances--or how lovable and precious, and sacredly beautiful to the eye.

This time we gathered sticks with high hopes; and when Mr.Ballou prepared to light the first match, there was an amount of interest centred upon him that pages of writing could not describe.

The match burned hopefully a moment, and then went out.