e
wild and merciless, much more remote from human interests and ends,
in our long, high, wooded ranges than is expressed by the peaks and
scarred groups of the lake country of Britain. These mountains we
behold and cross are not picturesque,--they are wild and inhuman as
the sea. In them you are in a maze, in a weltering world of woods;
you can see neither the earth nor the sky, but a confusion of the
growth and decay of centuries, and must traverse them by your
compass or your science of woodcraft,--a rift through the trees
giving one a glimpse of the opposite range or of the valley beneath,
and he is more at sea than ever; one does not know his own farm or
settlement when framed in these mountain treetops; all look alike
unfamiliar."

Not the least of the charm of camping out is your camp-fire at
night. What an artist! What pictures are boldly thrown or faintly
outlined upon the canvas of the night! Every object, every attitude
of your companion is striking and memorable. You see effects and
groups every moment that you would give money to be able to carry
away with you in enduring form. How the shadows leap, and skulk, and
hover about! Light and darkness are in perpetual tilt and warfare,
with first the one unhorsed, then the other. The friendly and
cheering fire, what acquaintance we make with it! We had almost
forgotten there was such an element, we had so long known only its
dark offspring, heat. Now we see the wild beauty uncaged and note
its manner and temper. How surely it creates its own draught and
sets the currents going, as force and enthusiasm always will! It
carves itself a chimney out of the fluid and houseless air. A
friend, a ministering angel, in subjection; a fiend, a fury, a
monster, ready to devour the world, if ungoverned. By day it burrows
in the ashes and sleeps; at night it comes forth and sits upon its
throne of rude logs, and rules the camp, a sovereign queen.

Near camp stood a tall, ragged yellow birch, its partially cast-off
bark hanging in crisp sheets or dense rolls.

"That tree needs the barber," we said, "and shall have a call from
him to-night."

So after dark I touched a match into it, and we saw the flames creep
up and wax in fury until the whole tree and its main branches stood
wrapped in a sheet of roaring flame. It was a wild and striking
spectacle, and must have advertised our camp to every nocturnal
creature in the forest.

What does the camper think about when lounging