Костер

           Butthetremendouscoldhadalreadydriventhelifeoutofhisfingers. Inhisefforttoseparateonematchfromtheothers,thewholebunchfellinthesnow. Hetriedtopickitoutofthesnow,butfailed. Thedeadfingerscouldneithertouchnorclutch. Hewasverycareful. Hedrovethethoughtofhisfreezingfeet;andnose,andcheeks,outofhismind,devotinghiswholesoultothematches. Hewatched,usingthesenseofvisioninplaceofthatoftouch,andwhenhesawhisfingersoneachsidethebunch,heclosedthem—thatis,hewilledtoclosethem,forthewiresweredrawn,andthefingersdidnotobey. Hepulledthemittenontherighthand,andbeatitfiercelyagainsthisknee. Then,withbothmittenedhands,hescoopedthebunchofmatches,alongwithmuchsnow,intohislap. Yethewasnobetteroff. 

           Aftersomemanipulationhemanagedtogetthebunchbetweentheheelsofhismittenedhands. Inthisfashionhecarriedittohismouth. Theicecrackledandsnappedwhenbyaviolenteffortheopenedhismouth. Hedrewthelowerjawin,curledtheupperlipoutoftheway,andscrapedthebunchwithhisupperteethinordertoseparateamatch. Hesucceededingettingone,whichhedroppedonhislap. Hewasnobetteroff. Hecouldnotpickitup. Thenhedevisedaway. Hepickeditupinhisteethandscratcheditonhisleg. Twentytimeshescratchedbeforehesucceededinlightingit. Asitflamedhehelditwithhisteethtothebirch-bark. Buttheburningbrimstonewentuphisnostrilsandintohislungs,causinghimtocoughspasmodically.