SEA-TROUT. 73 



I do not often look into our kitchen : Seeing Fabian 

 wipe my silver-plated fork upon his pantaloons, be- 

 tween courses, cured me of this. " Where ignorance 

 is bliss 'tis folly to be wise." I did, however, look 

 into the kitchen to-day to see how our excellent bread 

 was baked. It was properly made with " raising pow- 

 der," kneaded and formed into loaves. A trench was 

 dug in the ashes and sand, forming the bed of our 

 camp fire, wide and long enough to admit of three 

 loaves. They were put into the trench, without any 

 covering except the hot sand and ashes, with which 

 they were surrounded on all sides, top and bottom. 

 Live coals were raked over the mound, and it was left 

 for time and heat to do the rest. An hour or so after 

 I saw the bread taken from the ashes. It was brushed 

 slightly with a wisp broom, which removed the little of 

 ashes and sand adhering ; and the bread was as clean 

 as if it had just left the baker's oven, and was of a uni- 

 form rich brown color. Lamb and green peas (French 

 canned) formed one course at dinner to-day. The 

 flavor of fresh mutton is much improved by non-inter- 

 course with the butcher for two weeks. 



Sunday, Aug. 16. — Another bright and beautiful day. 

 It would be pleasant to hear " the sound of the church- 

 going bell, which these rocks and these valleys ne'er 

 heard, " It is now near two weeks since we entered 

 upon our camp life, and we have seen no signs of civil- 

 ization, save in our camp ; nothing but forest, rock, 

 water and sky, all as they came from their Great 



