CROSSI^'G THE CAREY. 119 



piece of pork lay at my feet, and another was 

 slicking up, some ten feet off, in the mud. It 

 looked very queer, — slightly out of place. With 

 11 le same motion with which I hung my boots on 

 a limb, as I seated myself, I stuck my rifle care- 

 i'l illy into the mud, muzzle downward. I never saw 

 \m in that position before. It struck me as 

 lu'iug a good thing. There was no danger of its 

 i.illinjx over and breakintr the stock. The first 

 thing I did was to pass the gridiron under me. 

 AMien that feat was accomplished, I felt more com- 

 bed. It 's pleasant for a man in the position I 

 ; s in to feel that he has something under him. 

 1^ en a chip or a small stump would have felt 

 iifortable. As I sat thinking how many uses a 

 I iron could be put to, and estimating where I 

 mid then have been if I had n't got it under 

 , I heard John forcing his way, with the boat 

 on his back, through the thick undergrowth. 



" It won't do to let John see me in this posi- 

 tion," I said; and so, with a mighty effort, I 

 disengaged myseK from the pack, flung off the 

 blanket from around my neck, and seizing hold 

 of a spruce limb which I could fortunately reach, 

 drew myself slowly up. I had just time to jerk 

 the rifle out of the mud and fish up about half of 

 the trout, when John came struggling along. 

 "John," said I, leaning unconcernedly against 



