hunger and weariness overcame our scruples, and 

 our hospitable entertainers soon made us forget 

 we were strangers wearing mud-stained clothes. 

 In the course of the evening chat around the 

 kitchen stove we were told of a tenantless log 

 house in the neighborhood of the pond that might 

 serve our purpose as a camp if we could get the 

 consent of its owner. 



Accordingly, the next morning I was delegated 

 to interview him. I found him at work in an ad- 

 jacent field, a man with a pleasant face that prom- 

 ised a favorable answer, which was cheerfully given 

 when he was assured that we had no evil designs 

 on the community. The old house had one room, 

 doorless and windowless, and without a fireplace, 

 though there was a chimney built from the cham- 

 ber floor with a pipe hole in the bottom for the ac- 

 commodation of a stove. We set to work to make 

 the most of this by building a primitive fireplace, 

 consisting of a quantity of clay mud spread di- 

 rectly beneath the chimney and covered with flat 

 stones embedded in it to bring them to an even 

 surface. Upon this we could make enough fire to 

 do a little very plain cooking, afford a little warmth 

 and a great deal of smoke, some of which crawled 

 up the chimney after the room was completely 

 filled. During the smokiest progress of building the 

 fire we lay prone upon the floor, breathing a little 

 and weeping much until the worst was over and 



