MY FIRST CAMP. 37 



up over my coat-collar so rapidly that I was im- 

 mediately as bloated as a bull-frog. The rain had 

 long ago drenched me, but, though wet before, I did 

 not care to get wet behind. 



My half-smothered yells brought Marie to my as- 

 sistance, and she rescued me and the bird, and then 

 suggested I could wade better with my boots off. 

 Happy thought! The boots were removed. I need 

 not detail, to any one who has had the experience, the 

 pleasure of wading barefoot over stones and rocks for 

 the first time in years. A little torture was enough 

 for me, and in half an hour I was quietly seated, dry- 

 ing in the sun, watching the girls at their work. The 

 stream was broad, with deep pools, and in these 

 pools the crayfish lurked, looking like miniature 

 lobsters through the clear water. I could see only 

 the small ones, but Marie assured me there were large 

 ones out of sight beneath the cascades. I was glad of 

 that, for several severe nips from these small ones had 

 given me enough of crayfish, and I did not care 

 whether my friends in America ever got a specimen. 



Erect upon the rock she stood a moment, then 

 plunged head-foremost into a foaming pool, disap- 

 pearing from sight. A moment later, rising bubbles 

 preceded a round little head, from which hung long, 

 limp tresses ; a pair of shoulders brown and bare, and 

 round arms and little hands reaching out for a support. 

 She had a crayfish in each hand, and another, with 

 wriggling legs, in her mouth. These she handed to 

 the little girl on the rock near me, and then climbed 

 out and stood erect, with heaving bosom and parted 

 lips, and nonchalantly gathered up her dripping 

 skirts and wrung from them the water. Outlined 



