Soon the bright campfire would be blazing and the dogs crowding about it. But before he had even put on his coffee Gene would get out the ration of dried fish and throw each dog his piece. When the team had been fed he got out the frying pan and put bacon into it. He would also put on the coffeepot and get out some hard biscuits. In a very few minutes he would be eating his own supper while the dogs watched him at a respectful distance. Again each dog would inspect his feet and gnaw the snow from between his toes and lick the cuts and bruises before retiring. Then one by one they would disappear under the soft snow, each curling up into a round ball and putting his nose in his bushy tail to keep it from freezing during the night.
When the last dog had disappeared Gene himself would stretch his muscles, and rake down his campfire so as to keep it until morning if possible. Then he would get out his rabbit-skin sleeping-bag and himself lie down upon some pine boughs that, if
