14 PEPACTON: A SUMMER VOYAGE. 



the Western hunters and guides do this. On the 

 same principle, the sand makes a good bed, and the 

 snow. You make a mold in which you fit nicely. 

 My berth that night was between two logs that the 

 bark-peelers had stripped ten or more years before. 

 As they had left the bark there, and as homlock bark 

 makes excellent fuel, I had more reasons than one to 

 be grateful to them. 



In the morning I felt much refreshed, and as if 

 the night had tided me over the bar that threatened 

 to stay my progress. If I can steer clear of skimmed 

 milk, I said, I shall now finish the voyage of fifty 

 miles to Hancock with increasing pleasure. 



When one breaks camp in the morning, he turns 

 back again and again to see what he has left. Surely 

 he feels he has forgotten something ; what is it ? But 

 it is only his own sad thoughts and musings he has 

 left, the fragment of his life he has lived there. 

 Where he hung his coat on the tree, where he slept 

 on the boughs, where he made his coffee or broiled 

 his trout over the coals, where he drank again and 

 again at the little brown pool in the spring run, 

 where he looked long and long up into the whisper- 

 ing branches overhead^ he has left what he cannot 

 bring away with him, the flame and the ashes of 

 himself. 



Of certain game birds it is thought that at times 

 they have the power of withholding their scent ; no 

 hint or particle of themselves goes out upon the air. 

 I think there are persons whose spiritual pores are 



