Those at the bottom of the cliff soon sought to get at the top, while those above did their best to keep the others down. It became a battle of three on one side and four on the other. The excitement made Teddy Dugan fairly wild and he let out whoops like an Indian, as he danced around, delivering one snowball after another as if he was in a baseball game. “Whoop! There’s one for first, and another for second!” he shrieked. “There ye are, shortstop, and, I say, third base, don’t miss the liner!” And bang! Joe caught the snowball in the waist, which doubled him up for the moment. “Here’s fer killin’ the umpire!” And at this last speech old Runnell caught a stinger in the ear. But the old hunter was quick to retaliate, and Teddy went down with a chunk of snow completely covering his head and neck. “Wurra!” he spluttered. “Please don’t throw the whole cliff at me to onct!” The fight was growing hotter and hotter and in the excitement Joe stepped close to the edge of the cliff. Then, of a sudden his feet slipped, he made a clutch at the pine branches before him, and shot out of sight. “Hurrah! the enemy is capitulating!” came from below. “Joe! Joe! where are you?” cried Harry. “I’ve retired, thank you!” came from under the pines. “I say, let us call it off!” And then the snowballing came to an end. Joe was not hurt, nor had anybody else suffered during the exciting contest. The boys worked so hard the first day building the shelter that in the morning every back was stiff. When Harry arose it was all he could do to straighten up. “I’ll be glad when the job is finished,” he grumbled. “A little of that sort of thing goes a great way.” “Think of how our forefathers used to build their log cabins,” said Bart. “We can be thankful we don’t live in such days.” “And don’t have any Indians hanging around ready to scalp us,” put in Fred. “Sure, an’ I’d run for me life if I seen an Indian,” said Teddy, and this caused a laugh. Bart and Link had brought a fair supply of provisions with them, but Teddy had brought nothing, so it was felt by all in the camp that they must be sparing with their things. “We’ll have to go out on another hunt to-morrow,” said old Runnell. “We don’t want to live on just deer and bear meat.” The split in the rock had been cleaned out, and on the evening of the second day a fire was started in the rear of the new shelter. There was a fine draught and every bit of the smoke went up the split without any trouble. “This looks more like home,” said Harry, after the fire had begun to warm them up. “A camp isn’t a camp at all unless one has a good fire. Even in the summer time a fellow likes to look at the blaze.” “Right you are, lad,” answered old Runnell. “I’ve been out many a time all alone, and I always found a fire the most friendly thing I could think of to drive away the blues. Even in the hottest of weather I start up some kind of a little blaze between the rocks.”