Костер

           Thematchfellintothesnowandwentout. 

           Theold-timeronSulphurCreekwasright,hethoughtinthemomentofcontrolleddespairthatensued: afterfiftybelow,amanshouldtravelwithapartner. Hebeathishands,butfailedinexcitinganysensation. Suddenlyhebaredbothhands,removingthemittenswithhisteeth. Hecaughtthewholebunchbetweentheheelsofhishands. Hisarm-musclesnotbeingfrozenenabledhimtopressthehand-heelstightlyagainstthematches. Thenhescratchedthebunchalonghisleg. Itflaredintoflame,seventysulphurmatchesatonce! Therewasnowindtoblowthemout. Hekepthisheadtoonesidetoescapethestranglingfumes,andheldtheblazingbunchtothebirch-bark. Ashesoheldit,hebecameawareofsensationinhishand. Hisfleshwasburning.Hecouldsmellit. Deepdownbelowthesurfacehecouldfeelit. Thesensationdevelopedintopainthatgrewacute. Andstillheenduredit,holdingtheflameofthematchesclumsilytothebarkthatwouldnotlightreadilybecausehisownburninghandswereintheway,absorbingmostoftheflame. 

           Atlast,whenhecouldendurenomore,hejerkedhishandsapart. Theblazingmatchesfellsizzlingintothesnow,butthebirch-barkwasalight. Hebeganlayingdrygrassesandthetiniesttwigsontheflame. Hecouldnotpickandchoose,forhehadtoliftthefuelbetweentheheelsofhishands. Smallpiecesofrottenwoodandgreenmossclungtothetwigs,andhebitthemoffaswellashecouldwithhisteeth. Hecherishedtheflamecarefullyandawkwardly.