o pilot some muscular young friend into the deep
forest and he usually carries a large pack-basket, with a full supply
of quart cans of salmon, tomatoes, peaches, etc. As in duty bound, I
admonish him kindly, but firmly, on the folly of loading his young
shoulders with such effeminate luxuries; often, I fear, hurting his
young feelings by brusque advice. But at night, when the campfire burns
brightly and he begins to fish out his tins, the heart of the Old
Woodsman relents, and I make amends by allowing him to divide the
groceries.

There is a method at cooking usually called "mudding up," which I have
found to preserve the flavor and juiciness of ducks, grouse, etc.,
better than any other method. I described the method in Forest and
Stream more than a year ago, but a brief repetition may not be out of
place here. Suppose the bird to be cooked is a mallard, or better
still, a canvas-back. Cut off the head and most part of the neck; cut
off the pinions and pull out the tail feathers, make a plastic cake of
clay or tenacious earth an inch thick and large enough to envelop
the bird and cover him with it snugly. Dig an oval pit under the
fore-stick, large enough to hold him, and fill it with hot coals,
keeping up a strong heat. Just before turning in for the night, clean
out the pit, put in the bird, cover with hot embers and coals, keeping
up a brisk fire over it all night. When taken out in the morning you
will have an oval, oblong mass of baked clay, with a well roasted bird
inside. Let the mass cool until it can be handled, break off the clay,
and feathers and skin will come with it, leaving the bird clean and
skinless. Season it as you eat, with salt, pepper and a squeeze of
lemon if you like, nothing else.

In selecting salt, choose that which has a gritty feel when rubbed
between the thumb and finger, and use white pepper rather than black,
grinding the berry yourself. Procure a common tin pepper-box and fill
it with a mixture of fine salt and Cayenne pepper--ten spoonsfuls of
the former and one of the latter. Have it always where you can lay your
hand on it; you will come to use it daily in camp, and if you ever get
lost, you will find it of value. Fish and game leave a flat, flashy
taste eaten without salt, and are also unwholesome.

Do not carry any of the one hundred and one condiments, sauces,
garnishes, etc., laid down in the books. Salt, pepper and lemons fill
the bill in that line. Lobster-sauce, shrimp-sa