"Those men have no fear of heat and flames," he thought.
"They keep this up day after day," Father Bear said as he dropped
wearily on the ground. "One gets tired of that kind of thing. I'm glad
that at last I can put an end to it."
The boy was all of a shiver now.
"If you will set fire to the noise-shop, I'll spare your life," said
Father Bear.
Just beyond them lay a pile of chips and shavings, and beside it was a
wood pile that almost reached the coal shed. The coal shed extended
over to the workshops, and if that once caught fire, the flames would
soon fly over to the iron foundry. The walls would fall from the
heat, and the machinery would be destroyed.
"Will you or won't you?" demanded Father Bear.
"You mustn't be so impatient," the boy said. "Let me think a moment."
"Very well," said Father Bear, tightening his hold on the boy.
They needed iron for everything, Nils knew. There was iron in the
plough that broke up the field, and in the axe that felled the tree
for building houses, in the scythe that mowed the grain, and in the
knife that could be turned to all sorts of uses. There was iron in the
horse's bit, and in the lock on the door, in the nails that held the
furniture together, and in the sheathing that covered the roof.
Pages:
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106