For who could tell how long it might be before he would make his escape?
And there were no birds or other game to be had on the island at this season, and when those he had were gone there would be hungry days to face.

Though he declared to himself when picking the last bone of his breakfast that he could never possibly be any hungrier than at that very moment.
Nor could he afford a large fire in future.

He calculated that he had already collected enough wood to last him, with small and carefully constructed fires, one day, and a survey of the island and its possibilities revealed the fact that all the additional fuel he could garner from the rocks would scarcely last him, even with rigid economy, another week.
While confined to his cave during the period of the blizzard he had satisfied his thirst with bits of ice.

Now his fire was built close to a little hollow in the rock, and, placing snow near the fire, it melted, and the water running into the hollow settled there, and gave him drink.
And so, making the best of his resources, Bobby prepared for his siege, which he felt quite sure would end only when the bay froze and he could make his escape over the ice.

A great part of the daylight hours were spent in collecting bits of wood.