106 LOCUSTS AND WILD HONEY 



It savored rather of the equine and the bovine. The 

 bark-men had kept their teams there, horses on the 

 one side and oxen on the other, and no Hercules 

 had ever done duty in cleansing the stables. But 

 there was a dry loft overhead with some straw, where 

 we might get some sleep, in spite of the rain and 

 the midges; a double layer of boards, standing at a 

 very acute angle, would keep off the former, while 

 the mingled refuse hay and muck beneath would 

 nurse a smoke that would prove a thorough protec- 

 tion against the latter. And then, when Jim, the 

 two-handed, mounting the trunk of a prostrate maple 

 near by, had severed it thrice with easy and familiar 

 stroke, and, rolling the logs in front of the shanty, 

 had kindled a fire, which, getting the better of the 

 dampness, soon cast a bright glow over all, shedding 

 warmth and light even into the dingy stable, I con- 

 sented to unsling my knapsack and accept the situa- 

 tion. The rain had ceased and the sun shone out 

 behind the woods. We had trout sufficient for pres- 

 ent needs; and after my first meal in an ox-stall, I 

 strolled out on the rude log bridge to watch the 

 angry Neversink rush by. Its waters fell quite as 

 rapidly as they rose, and before sundown it looked 

 as if we might have fishing again on the morrow. 

 We had better sleep that night than either night 

 before, though there were two disturbing causes, — 

 the smoke in the early part of it, and the cold in 

 the latter. The "no-see-ems" left in disgust; and, 

 though disgusted myself, I swallowed the smoke as 

 best I could, and hugged my pallet of straw the 



