POOR CAMPING-GROUND. 359 



form flooded in a stream of sunlight, that, pouring 

 through a gorge in the hills, fell in one mass of golden 

 splendor on him and the quiet spot on which he was 

 feeding. F was electrified at the sight, and pre- 

 pared at once to go after him, but Charlie shook his 

 head, saying : " It was no time to go after deer; we must 

 find a camping-ground." " But," I inquired, " where 

 are you going?" "Well," he replied, " I suppose we 

 might stop at one place as well as another," and steered 

 his boat towards a point which seemed to me the most 

 forbidding spot in sight. We, however, pushed ashore, 

 and, climbing the steep sides of a hill, selected a little 

 level spot and began to cut away the bushes so as to 

 pitch our tent. Lugging up our traps over the fallen 

 trees, we began to prepare for supper. " We shall 

 have to drink lake water to-night," grumbled Charlie. 

 " I do not believe it," I replied. " The mountains that 

 feed this lake must be filled with springs." So going 

 down to the narrow strip of level ground that inter- 

 vened between the lake and hill, I began to search for 

 a spring. It was hard travelling through the thick 

 underbrush, but at length I came to a moist spot near 

 the root of a tree, and suspecting water to be under- 

 neath, I scooped out the black soft earth with my hand, 



