The Second Camp 49 



ten minutes three attempts were made to get the net under him, 

 the speckled warrior fighting fiercely, and still continuing the 

 battle in the boat. 



In the late afternoon Jay returned with a wagonload of fir 

 logs for firewood. With axe and saw, in a few minutes a backlog 

 and the lesser members of a properly constituted campfire were 

 ready. With deft hand a piece of dry, straight-grained pine was 

 shaved along one side into affringile filaments. This, and a couple 

 more like it, placed slantingly against the backlog, itself with its side 

 against the wind, had piled slantingly open over them, in a roughly 

 conical form, a few heavier dry sticks, on top of which came two 

 or three light logs, their weight supported by the backlog. A 

 match was struck, and in the sheltering palm applied to the loose 

 filaments of the first prepared pieces. In two minutes a lusty 

 flame was leaping, and with it the nomad's sky-roofed home 

 fairly established. A chill wind from the west, and a snow storm 

 visible on Mount Holmes northeast of camp made the comfort- 

 diffusing blaze the more welcome. 



The hunters, out until after sundown, returned with a lean 

 bag. Ducks were passing up and down continually, but the light 

 was bad, and a duck flying low at sundown against a background 

 of gray hill does not offer a very positive mark to sight on. 



A clear sky at evening, and a bite to the wind, promising a 

 frosty night and fair weather on the morrow. The light of the 

 messtent, with the still-continuing contest of Art against Bill's 

 unspeakable luck still going on, and the warmth of the fire feel 

 none the less comfortable for the yelling of some unknown number , 

 of coyotes within a short distance of camp. It is difficult to accu- 

 rately estimate their number, for one can make himself sound like 

 fifty. The yelping howl of the coyote is probably the most charac- 

 teristic night sound of the Montana plains. 



