y could not keep me on nothin', an' as the murphies was all
sp'iled wi' the rot, I had to lave or starve."

At last, after a long search, Frank Morton found a spot pretty well
adapted for their purpose. It was an elevated plot of gravel, which was
covered with a thin carpet of herbage, and surrounded by a belt of
willows which proved a sufficient shelter against the wind. A low and
rather shaggy willow-tree spread its branches over the spot, and gave to
it a good deal of the feeling and appearance of shelter, if not much of
the reality. This was of little consequence, however, as the night
proved fine and comparatively mild, so that the black vault of heaven,
spangled with hosts of brilliant stars, amply compensated for the want
of a leafy canopy.

Under the willow-tree, Frank and La Roche busied themselves in spreading
a very small white tent for Mr Stanley and his family. Frank himself,
although entitled from his position in the Company's service to the
luxury of a tent, scorned to use one, preferring to rough it like the
men, and sleep beneath the shelter of the small canoe. Meanwhile, Mr
Stanley proceeded to strike a light with his flint and steel; and Bryan,
having deposited his burden near the tent, soon collected a sufficiency
of driftwood to make a good fire. Edith and her mother were not idle in
the midst of this busy scene. They collected a few bundles of dried
twigs to make the fire light more easily, and after the blaze was
casting its broad glare of light over the camp, and the tent was
pitched, they assisted La Roche in laying the cloth for supper. Of
course, in a journey like this, none but necessary articles were taken,
and these were of the most homely character. The kettle was the
tea-pot, the cups were tin pannikins, and the table-cloth was a large
towel, while the table itself was the ground, from the damp of which,
however, the party in the tent were protected by an ample oil-cloth.

When all the things were carried up, and the men assembled, the camp
presented the following appearance: in the centre of the open space,
which nature had arranged in the form of a circle, blazed the fire; and
a right jovial, sputtering, outrageous fire it was, sending its sparks
flying in all directions, like the artillery of a beleaguered fortress
in miniature, and rolling its flames about in fierce and wayward
tongues, that seemed bent on licking in and swallowing up the entire
party, but more especially L