With great caution, Donovan struck a match on his jacket-sleeve.

We all hovered around to keep off the wicked puffings of the wind.

The slivers were lighted; they kindled: the fat meat began to sizzle; then caught fire from the pine; and soon a ruddy, spluttering flame was blazing with marvellous fierceness.
"Hurrah!" Kit shouted.

"The first fire these grim old ledges have seen since they cooled their glowing, molten billows into flinty granite!".