"A hut, Joe! what sort o' hut can ye make here?" inquired Dick.
"Ach! lend me a hand here, Dick; de bockle am tight as de hoss's own skin. Ah! dere all right."
"Hallo! what's this?" exclaimed Dick, as Crusoe advanced with something in his mouth. "I declare, it's a bird o' some sort."
"A prairie-hen," remarked Joe, as Crusoe laid the bird at Dick's feet; "capital for supper."
"Ah! dat chien is superb! goot dog. Come here, I vill clap you."
But Crusoe refused to be caressed. Meanwhile, Joe and Dick formed a sort of beehive-looking hut by bending down the stems of a tall bush and thrusting their points into the ground. Over this they threw the largest buffalo robe, and placed another on the ground below it, on which they laid their packs of goods. These they further secured against wet by placing several robes over them and a skin of parchment. Then they sat down on this pile to rest, and consider what should be done next.
"'Tis a bad look-out," said Joe, shaking his head.
"I fear it is," replied Dick in a melancholy tone.
Henri said nothing, but he sighed deeply on looking up at the sky, which was now of a uniform watery gray, while black clouds drove athwart it. The rain was pouring in torrents, and the wind began to sweep it in broad sheets over the plains, and under their slight covering, so that in a short time they were wet to the skin. The horses stood meekly beside them, with their tails and heads equally pendulous; and Crusoe sat before his master, looking at him with an expression that seemed to say, "Couldn't you put a stop to this if you were to try?"
"This'll never do. I'll try to git up a fire," said Dick, jumping up in desperation.
"Ye may save yerself the trouble," remarked Joe dryly--at least as dryly as was possible in the circumstances.
However, Dick did try, but he failed signally. Everything was soaked and saturated. There were no large trees; most of the bushes were green, and the dead ones were soaked. The coverings were slobbery, the skins they sat on were slobbery, the earth itself was slobbery; so Dick threw his blanket (which was also slobbery) round his shoulders, and sat down beside his companions to grin and bear it. As for Joe and Henri, they were old hands and accustomed to such circumstances. From the first they had resigned themselves to their fate, and wrapping their wet blankets round them sat down, side by side, wisely to endure the evils that they could not cure.