CHAPTER XXV. 



Our first uiglit in the tents was glorious in its slumbers. 



" Hemlock feathers " for beds, and blankets and mosquito 



bars made us entire 1}' comfortable; and the deep stillness 



soothed us more gently than music itself into speedy and 



utter forgetfulness of all the fatigues of our journey. With 



the early dawn the Captain emerged from his tent, cigar in 



mouth, impatient to seize and ply his rod. With stentorian 



voice he roused the sleepy guides who, not yet having built 



their own camp, had stretched themselves for the night on 



the ground about the camp-tire, without bed or blankets. 



lu an instant every man of us was wide awake. That 



voice of command was new to us. Later in our camping 



experience it came to our ears and passed as a troubled 



dream, and we slumbered on until the magic word " break- 



« 



fast! " was shouted into our tents. 



' ' Up and dressed " is a phrase which means something 



when only one's coat, hat and boots are removed for the 



night. A wash basin on a little mound, a piece of soap on 



a chip, and a towel hung on a limb, a pocket comb, in the 



morning — and in a twinkling, if breakfast is waiting, the 



toilet is made. A morning plunge in the lake, and the 



delicious sensations of the loving touch of a thousand soft 



and almost intangible arms bearing you up and caressing 



