"She's struck the toboggan, an' presently she'll commence to slide.

Come on, Buff, we've work to do." He caught up a bucket, made for their hole in the ice, rebroke a six-inch layer, the freeze of a few hours, and filling his bucket, returned to the cabin.

Jones had no inkling of the trapper's intention, and wonderingly he soused his bucket full of water and followed.
By the time he had reached the cabin, a matter of some thirty or forty good paces, the water no longer splashed from his pail, for a thin film of ice prevented.

Rea stood fifteen feet from the cabin, his back to the wind, and threw the water.

Some of it froze in the air, most of it froze on the logs.