A SUMMER VOYAGE 



swift-running current, and turned my thought* 

 toward breakfast. 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 driftwood. Before I had found the wood 

 I chanced upon another 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 kindling. With some sea- 

 soned twigs and a scrap of paper I soon had a fire 

 going that answered my every purpose. More ber- 

 ries were picked while the coffee was brewing, and 

 the breakfast was a success. 



The camper-out often finds himself in what seems 

 a distressing predicament to people seated in their 

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

 satisfaction when things come to their worst, a 

 satisfaction in seeing what a small matter it is, after 

 all ; that one is really neither sugar nor salt, to be 

 afraid of the wet ; and that life is just as well worth 

 living beneath a scow or a dug-out as beneath the 

 highest and broadest roof in Christendom. 



By ten o'clock it became necessary to move, on 

 account of the rise of the water, and as the rain had 

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