n the
North Woods that are really fine villas, costing thousands of dollars
and there are log-houses and shanties and bark camps and A tents and
walled tents, shelter-tents and shanty-tents. But, I assume that the
camp best fitted to the wants of the average outer is the one that
combines the essentials of dryness, lightness, portability, cheapness
and is easily and quickly put up. Another essential is, that it must
admit of a bright fire in front by night or day. I will give short
descriptions of the forest shelters (camps) I have found handiest and
most useful.

Firstly, I will mention a sort of camp that was described in a
sportsman's paper and has since been largely quoted and used. It is
made by fastening a horizontal pole to a couple of contiguous trees and
then putting on a heavy covering of hemlock boughs, shingling them with
the tips downward, of course. A fire is to be made at the roots of one
of the trees. This, with plenty of boughs, may be made to stand a
pretty stiff rain; but it is only a damp arbor, and no camp, properly
speaking. A forest camp should always admit of a bright fire in front,
with a lean-to or shed roof overhead, to reflect the fire heat on the
bedding below. Any camp that falls short of this, lacks the
requirements of warmth, brightness and healthfulness. This is why I
discard all close, canvas tents.

The simplest and most primitive of all camps is the "Indian camp." It
is easily and quickly made, is warm and comfortable and stands a pretty
heavy rain when properly put up. This is how it is made: Let us say you
are out and have slightly missed your way. The coming gloom warns you
that night is shutting down. You are no tenderfoot. You know that a
place of rest is essential to health and comfort through the long, cold
November night. You dive down the first little hollow until you strike
a rill of water, for water is a prime necessity. As you draw your
hatchet you take in the whole situation at a glance. The little stream
is gurgling downward in a half choked frozen way. There is a huge
sodden hemlock lying across it. One clip of the hatchet shows it will
peel. There is plenty of smaller timber standing around; long, slim
poles, with a tuft of foliage on top. Five minutes suffice to drop one
of these, cut a twelve-foot pole from it, sharpen the pole at each end,
jam one end into the ground and the other into the rough back of a
scraggy hemlock and there is your ridge pole. Now go--with