PEPACTON: A SUMMER VOYAGE. 33 



When bed-time arrived I found undressing a little 

 awkward, my berth was so low ; there was plenty of 

 room in the aisle, and the other passengers were 

 nowhere to be seen, but I did not venture out. It 

 rained nearly all night, but the train made good 

 <peed, and reached the land of daybreak nearly on 

 time. The water in the river had crept up during 

 the night to within a few inches of my boat, but I 

 rolled over and took another nap, all the same. Then 

 I arose, had a delicious bath in the sweet, swift^run- 

 ning current, and turned my thoughts toward break- 

 fast. The making of the coffee was the only serious 

 problem. With everything soaked and a fine rain 

 still falling, how shall one build a fire ? I made my 

 way to a little island above in quest of drift-wood. 

 Before I had found the wood I chanced upon an- 

 other patch of delicious wild strawberries, and took 

 an appetizer of them out of hand. Presently I picked 

 up a yellow birch stick the size of my arm. The 

 wood was decayed, but the bark was perfect. I 

 broke it in two, punched out the rotten wood, and 

 had the bark intact. The fatty or resinous substance 

 in this bark preserves it, and makes it excellent kind- 

 ling. With some seasoned twigs and a scrap of paper 

 I soon had a fire going that answered my every pur- 

 pose. More berries were picked while the coffee was 

 brewing, and the breakfast was a success. 



The camper-out often finds nimself in what seems 

 a distressing predicament to people seated in their 

 nug, well-ordered houses , but there is often a real 



3 



