A Sportsman 99 



and we will settle down to ourselves and our mutton." 

 But not so, as appeared. 



After a few days at camp, I made a trip with the 

 Governor and one of the guides across the woods to 

 another lake, where deer were promising in number, 

 and we proceeded up a trail from the lake for a mile or 

 so to an old deserted logging camp that I knew of. I 

 had prepared in advance an old cot sheet with the 

 words, "Welcome, Governor Russell," prominently dis- 

 played upon it with a marking brush, and this I had 

 the guide pack away in his knapsack, instructing him 

 how to act with it. Before we reached the camp over 

 the virgin untrodden snow, at a babbling brook which 

 crossed the road I signalled the guide to take a turn 

 off to the right and see if he found any fresh tracks, 

 while the Governor and I would rest and have a pipe 

 at the brook. The guide started off and proceeded 

 around to the rear of the old camp, which he entered 

 through the old window-place, and tacked over the front 

 door, without disturbing the snow in front, the sheet of 

 welcome, and returning the same way as in entering, 

 joined us at our resting-place, with the report that he 

 had not found any fresh tracks ; and we proceeded on, 

 putting the Governor in the lead that he might get the 

 first crack at a deer. When the Governor, well in the 

 lead, saw the old camp in the way with its blazing in- 

 scription, he stopped and beckoned me up to him, and 

 pointing at the conspicuous welcome, said: 



"Why, what's that?" 



Rubbing and straining my eyes to the reading, I 

 said: 



"Why, it says, 'Welcome, Governor Russell'; don't 

 you see what it is?" 



