Part 19 (2/2)

”That's a superb idea, Tom,” said Jack, ”and we'll get to work at it at once. I'd give the proceeds of all my winter's work for a head half as good as yours, Tom.”

”Oh, pshaw!” said Tom. ”My head isn't of much account. It is only that I look straight at things and try to use common sense.”

”Yes,” said the Doctor, ”and that is what we call 'genius' in science.

It is the men who 'look straight at things and try to use common sense'

who do the great things in science. Darwin did that, and so did Asa Gray, and Edison, and Aga.s.siz, and all the rest of them. Scientific genius is nothing in the world but common sense, reinforced by a habit of observation.”

But there was no further time for talk. The boys quickly built a low snow embankment between their house and the great snowdrift, and beat it down with their mauls, into a condition of solid ice. With this barrier to aid them they succeeded in compelling the water from the rain and the melting snow to flow in a sort of ditch around their house, and to cease flowing through it.

Inside, however, the condition of things was deplorable. The earthen floor under the bunks was a mud hole. The broom straw that const.i.tuted the beds was soaking wet, and the task of drying it promised to be no easy one.

”We've simply got to sleep on hard clapboards for two or three nights,”

said Ed.

”Well, what of that?” asked Tom, ”I've often slept on much harder beds than clapboards make.”

”For example?” asked Jim.

”Well, I've slept on big rocks for one thing.”

”Why did you do that? Why didn't you sleep on the softer ground?”

”Because the softer ground was much too soft, being mud. I've slept on two rails placed about eight inches apart, with one end stuck into a fence so as to keep me out of the mud, and a pretty good bed rails make.

Finally, I have slept on the worst bed there is in the world.”

”What is that?”

”Why, a pile of pebbles. That's the very worst there is, but you can sleep on it, if you've got to. Now, let's have some breakfast, Ed, and after devouring a proper quant.i.ty of bear steak, I'll show you fellows how a healthy fellow who has worked all night can sleep on clapboards in spite of the daylight that the Doctor's rag windows are letting in, now that we've shoveled the snow away from them.”

Ed had breakfast already well under way. It was to consist solely of bear steak and coffee, for coffee was their one supply which was not exhausted, and during the starving time they would hardly have endured their hunger but for that resource.

”But,” said Jack, as they ate their breakfast, ”what are we going to do with that bear meat? It won't keep long in this soft weather. By the way, Jim, throw another stick on the fire. It's cold.”

”So it is,” said the Doctor, who had just come in after a consultation with his scientific instruments. ”The thermometer has sunk twenty degrees within the last hour, and stands now at two degrees below freezing. It will go much lower, for the barometer is rising and the wind has s.h.i.+fted to the northwest. We're in for a trip to the Arctic regions without doing any traveling to get there.”

”Let's hang the bear out of doors, then,” said Jack. ”It will freeze there.”

”Yes, and every carnivorous animal in these woods will come and eat for us,” said Tom, whose authority on the habits of wild creatures was accepted by all the boys as final.

”Besides,” said the Doctor, ”it isn't necessary. Our bear will freeze hanging just where he is, by the door there.”

With that he arose, went outside, and brought in a thermometer, which he pinned to the bear's carca.s.s.

”We're down to twenty-six degrees outside now,” he said, ”and it is growing steadily colder.” Then, after waiting for five minutes, he consulted the thermometer that he had hung upon the bear, and announced:

”It stands at thirty-three degrees--fruit-house temperature.”

<script>