rdingly, after a little time, when the fire had burnt down somewhat,
they threw the brands into the river, and then, embarking in their boat,
they returned to the mill.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE BIVOUACK.

Marco and Forester had an opportunity to encamp for the night, in the
woods, in a manner different from what they expected. It happened in
this way. In the course of their rambles among the forests which are
about the lakes and the upper branches of the Kennebec, they came, one
night, to a farm-house, where they had to spend the night. The house was
built of logs. It was in a small opening in the woods. This opening was
occupied with fields, which were divided from each other by log fences.
The fields were full of stumps. The whole opening was bordered on every
side by a perpendicular wall of forest,--the tall stems forming a
colonnade, which reminded Marco of the palisades on the North river,
just above New York.

There was but one room in this log house, and, at first, Marco did not
know where he and Forester were to sleep. There was a great blazing fire
in the fire-place, which was made of rough stones. The hearth was made
of great flat stones. These stones were tolerably smooth on the upper
side; but, as they were not square, there were many spaces left between
them, and at the corners, which were filled with earth. But, though the
fire-place was rough, the great fire blazed merrily in it; and Marco
thought that it was pleasanter than his father's marble fire-place, in
New York, with a grate in it, filled with a hard coal fire, looking like
red-hot stones.

"I wish we had such a fire-place as this in New York," said Marco.

"And wood to burn in it," replied Forester.

"O, we can get wood enough in New York," said Marco. "The carmen bring
it along every morning. We might have such a fire-place down in the
basement, or in that little room in the stable, and then I would go and
build fires in it."

Just then, the farmer's wife came with a spider to the fire, to broil
some chickens for their supper. She pulled out the coals with a
long-handled iron shovel, which she called a _slice_. She cooked the
young travellers a most excellent supper.

The farmer and his wife were both rather young. They had one child. He
was asleep in the cradle. This cradle was only a box, made of boards,
and mounted on rockers. Marco asked the farmer if he made the cradle
himself, and he said he did.

There was a boy living in t