The bitter chill of the first half hour after his fire went out passed away, and in a little while to his astonishment he discovered that he was not after all so uncomfortable.
"The snow must have covered me all up," he exclaimed with sudden enlightenment, "and I'll be at the bottom of a big drift pretty soon, and that's what's making me warm." It was dark, and he struck a match to investigate, and sure enough, every chink and crevice, even his door, was packed with snow, and not a breath of air stirred within.

Gradually the sound of the shrieking wind and pounding sea seemed farther and farther away, and he heard it as one hears something in the distance.
"Mother's going to be scared for me," he mused, as he rearranged his bed of boughs.

"She'll think I'm lost, and I'm sorry.

She'll be all right when I get home, though.

It is a fine mess to get into." Then his thoughts turned to Abel Zachariah and Skipper Ed and Jimmy, somewhere out on the coast and weathering the same storm.