A Ftre-and- Water Medley 



Spit fire ! Spout, rain ! 



—King Lkae. 



" The property of rain is to wet and fire to burn," 

 — a hackneyed truism of which our New Brunswick 

 camp had rather a damp and lucid proof. 



The rain had been falling heavily all day. We 

 knew it was the intention of a party, consisting of 

 two sportsmen with their guide, and one woman, to 

 come through and camp at the head of the Tobique 

 Kiver, but thought they would prefer to stay at Eed 

 Brook, twelve miles below, until the storm abated, 

 rather than expose themselves to its fury in their 

 canoes. 



Toward evening the storm let up a little, and with 

 my guide I concluded to venture out for moose- 

 calling. We stayed out until eleven at night, and 

 then the wind became so strong again and the rain so 

 heavy we paddled back to camp. 



Our main camp was a rather primitive log structure, 



with a wooden fireplace, made by setting long split 



logs on end, forming a chimney and a ventilator, and 



affording light as well as heat. There was no window 



of any kind. As a sleeping place the cabin might 



156 



