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 

 speed, 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 

 snug, well-ordered houses ; but there is often a real 

 3 



