Donovan was trying to dry some pine-splinters to build a fire with by sitting on them.

Weymouth was cutting out blubber from the skinned carcass for the fire, so soon as the splinters could be dried.

Two matches were burned trying to kindle the pine-shavings.

We thought our fire dearly purchased at such a cost.
"Only four more," remarked Donovan gravely.
"We must not let it go out again," Raed said.

"We must sit up, some of us, in future, to tend it." Any thing like the dreary gloom of that morning I hope never to experience again.