CHAPTER XIX. 



A little more of the serene aud happy life at ' ' Stickney 

 Camp," during- which I had almost forgotten that I was to 

 cross the wilderness, and the migratory impulse came upon 

 me. Already I longed for the charms of Seventh Lake, 

 and the glories of the Kaquette, while Utowana, Eagle 

 and Blue Mountain Lakes lured me in the distance. And 

 the boy— he had never been quite content to sleep in 

 John's comfortable quarters. Nothing short of tent and bed 

 of boughs and out-of-door cookery, and lakes where there 

 was no highway for parties coming and going, would 

 wholly satisfy him. John, I was convinced, was conspir- 

 ing with himself to make us so completely hnppy here that 

 we would willingly surrender our projected journey further. 

 He had " roughed it" enough, slept on beds of boughs in 

 winter as well as in summer, until a mattress was good 

 enough for him; and his kitchen stove Avas vastly more 

 convenient than any open lire or any new-fangled affair 

 that a sportsman might lug into the woods with him. On 

 the one side, therefore, was the luxury of this present life 

 at Stickney Camp, and John's unspoken but not unfelt per- 

 suasion to remain. On the other, was my programme, 

 deliberately formed, which urged me on like another 

 Wandering Jew, aud Ned also, who teased and talked me 

 wild when we went to bed and when we woke in the 



