NEAR MIDDLE RIDGE. 127 



not necessaries. It is easy to imagine the case of an 

 expert in the northern forests who is either lost or is 

 unable to reach camp on a snowy night. From pushing 

 his way through the thick-growing trees, he is wet to 

 the skin, and darkness is upon him. The moment he 

 determines to make no further effort he begins to look 

 for a spot in which to pass the night. The wind is 

 blowing bitterly cold ; he therefore chooses a solid clump 

 of trees which will break its force, and in the shelter of 

 which only a few of the snowflakes will reach him. 

 Then he does not at once light a fire, but collects 

 sufficient wood, dead logs and fallen branches, to last 

 till daylight comes again ; for the old hand knows 

 better than to have to turn out from his snug lair at three 

 o'clock in the morning, may be, to bring in fresh fuel. 

 He strips the bark from a birch, putting some of the 

 dry inner layers into his pocket to start his fire, and he 

 gathers a large quantity of boughs, of balsam if he can 

 get them, to make his bed and shelter. Having trans- 

 ferred these to the chosen spot, he clears away the snow 

 from it and then piles up some tree-trunks to the wind- 

 ward, and afterwards makes a second rampart of logs 

 opposite to the first, against which to build his fire. 

 However bleak the night, a fire, carefully fed, is quickly 

 blazing, through the flame and smoke of which he passes 

 his balsam boughs to dry them for his bedding. Branches 

 skilfully laid make a mattress as springy and comfortable 

 as any one could desire. The last thing is to spread the 

 fire into a long blaze, longer than himself, so that 

 he may feel its heat through the whole length of his 

 body and limbs. Wood to replenish it is placed within 

 easy reach, and after eating food, if he is lucky enough 

 to have any with him, he can lie down opposite his 



