utting the
frying-pan on a bed of coals, with a couple of thin slices of bacon in
it.

[Illustration: CAMP LIFE.--DRAWN BY CHARLES GRAHAM.]

"They look lonely," said Sid.

"They'll have company enough. This coffee smells first rate."

"No milk, Wade, and nothing to settle it with."

"I thought I'd surprise you, Sid. I've brought some little cans of
condensed milk."

"Why not a big can?"

"Spoils after it's opened, just like other milk."

"Next thing to having a cow. But, oh, won't the coffee be muddy!"

"I guess not. There, the bacon's beginning to fry."

Half a dozen ship biscuit, hard as dinner plates, were dipped for a
moment in the water, and quickly transferred to the frying-pan.

It was wonderful how puffed up and soft they became, and what a fine
flavor of bacon improved their taste when it came time to eat them.

Wade was at his coffee-pot before that, however.

Two heaping table-spoonfuls of the ground coffee were first poured into
one of the tin cups, which were all the "table crockery" in that camp,
and just covered with cold water.

That had been done before the bacon was put on, and now the coffee-pot
full of water was sitting on a bed of coals and beginning to steam.

"She's boiling," shouted Sid.

In went the contents of the tin cup, and on went the cover.

"Let her boil awhile."

"The hard-tack's a-swelling."

"The fish must be done, too. Now for settling."

The cover of the coffee-pot was lifted, and half a cupful of cold water
was suddenly dashed in, and then the pot was lifted from the coals to
the grass.

"Let her stand a bit. Now for the fish. Have your tin plate ready."

"Ain't they splendid?"

So they were, when they were dug out from the ashes, their leafy coats
removed; and Sid discovered that by a careful use of his fork and
fingers all the parts of the fish that he did not want seemed to come
away together. A little salt and pepper improved both them and the
hard-tack, and the coffee poured out beautifully clear and strong.

Just as he and Sid were getting ready to begin their meal, however, Wade
took one of the partridges and spread him flat on the forks of a long
crooked branch he had cut.

"That'll hold him just high enough above the coals."

"Yes, but you stuck him right into the heat, first thing."

"Always. That shuts up his outside coat, so he won't lose all his juice
in broiling. Cook him slow, now. I've put a little salt and pepper on
him, and a piec