under if we stood up. There was plenty of well-seasoned timber
lying about, and a fire was soon burning in front of our quarters
that made the scene social and picturesque, especially when the
frying-pans were brought into requisition, and the coffee, in charge
of Aaron, who was an artist in this line, mingled its aroma with the
wild-wood air. At dusk a balsam was felled, and the tips of the
branches used to make a bed, which was more fragrant than soft;
hemlock is better, because its needles are finer and its branches
more elastic.

There was a spirt or two of rain during the night, but not enough to
find out the leaks in our roof. It took the shower or series of
showers of the next day to do that. They commenced about two o'clock
in the afternoon. The forenoon had been fine, and we had brought
into camp nearly three hundred trout; but before they were half
dressed, or the first panfuls fried, the rain set in. First came
short, sharp dashes, then a gleam of treacherous sunshine, followed
by more and heavier dashes. The wind was in the southwest, and to
rain seemed the easiest thing in the world. From fitful dashes to a
steady pour the transition was natural. We stood huddled together,
stark and grim, under our cover, like hens under a cart. The fire
fought bravely for a time, and retaliated with sparks and spiteful
tongues of flame; but gradually its spirit was broken, only a heavy
body of coal and half-consumed logs in the centre holding out
against all odds. The simmering fish were soon floating about in a
yellow liquid that did not look in the least appetizing. Point after
point gave way in our cover, till standing between the drops was no
longer possible. The water coursed down the underside of the boards,
and dripped in our necks and formed puddles on our hat-brims. We
shifted our guns and traps and viands, till there was no longer any
choice of position, when the loaves and the fishes, the salt and the
sugar, the pork and the butter, shared the same watery fate. The
fire was gasping its last. Little rivulets coursed about it, and
bore away the quenched but steaming coals on their bosoms. The
spring run in the rear of our camp swelled so rapidly that part of
the trout that had been hastily left lying on its banks again found
themselves quite at home. For over two hours the floods came down.
About four o'clock Orville, who had not yet come from the day's
sport, appeared. To say Orville was wet is not much; he was