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and I pushed it open, slowly, and peeked in. I didn’t know what was in there—a porcupine, maybe, or a skunk. There wasn’t anything like that, but how that door did squeak! The inside of the house had a funny, musty smell. There was a bunk along one side, but it was empty. There was a bed, too, with a mattress on it and a rough blanket covering the bottom. That bed looked good to me but I was so hungry that I went straight to the cupboard.
    There were cans on the shelves. One was a brown matchbox, but it was empty. I opened another can—coffee. I opened another can—salt. I opened another can—empty. They were all empty after that, but I found two pieces of iron, a part of a big knife and a bar of some kind. They were up on the top shelf. I cracked them together and boy, what a spark! I did that three or four times and, every time, I got a spark. I thought of stories I had read about people lighting fires with sparks and I thought I would try it.
    I had a good reason, too, for wanting a fire. I forgot to say that when I came near the camp I looked into the brook—I guess I took a drink—and it was full of the biggest trout I ever saw—big, blue fellows, all headed upstream. Boy, were they lazy! They just floated in the water and looked at me. I guess they knew I didn’t have a hook and line. If I’d had a hook and line, they would have gone off a mile a minute.
    I thought of those trout when I made those sparks. I hit the pieces of iron together again and made lots of sparks. It was almost like having a sparkler. I thought that was fine so I went outside and got some dry cedar bark and crushed it all up in my hands. I worked it back and forth into a loose ball. Behind the cabin was a place where there was no wind. I put the ball of cedar bark on the ground and crouched over it. Then I struck the two pieces of iron together as close to the bark as I could. But I didn’t get a spark. I got sparks inside, but I didn’t get any outside. I thought that was funny. I went over to the cabin and got some dry, fluffy stuff from between the logs. I tried the iron pieces, again—no sparks—nothing. 20
    Well, I couldn’t start a fire. I worked hard at it, until my arms got so tired lifting the iron bar that I could scarcely move it. I gave up trying and it didn’t seem to matter at all. I thought of the trout and then I thought of the trouble it would be to catch one. Maybe they only looked lazy. Maybe if I started a big fire the wind would get it away from me and set the whole forest going. I thought of that and of the signs I saw on Katahdin. Thatmountain was plastered with yellow signs asking people to help prevent forest fires. Dad had pointed them out to me and we had talked about the timber damage every year from fire.
    I went back into the house and took the blanket off the bed. Christmas! I got a fright when I pulled it off. Boy! There was a mouse on it with long ears.
    He squealed and hung on so tightly that I had to take him by the tail and yank him off. I thought mice were afraid of people, but this one wasn’t. He was just mad and he wanted that blanket as much as I did. Then I wondered if I was stealing it. I thought of that mouse and the owner of the blanket. I wanted to take the blanket with me, but I wondered if that would be the right thing to do. I thought of Dad. What would he do? Would he be mad if I took it along? I remembered what he always told me, “Never touch a thing that doesn’t belong to you.” Dad wasn’t thinking, maybe, of me, lost in the woods. Still, something seemed to tell me to go ahead—that the owner would want me to have it and the mouse could find something else to sleep under next winter.
    While I was folding it, I came across a big safety pin—the biggest safety pin I ever saw. I remember I took it in my hands and couldn’t believe it was a safety pin. When I tried to snap it shut, though, I found