A RAINY DAY IN CAMP 



tap of the woodpecker, as one creeps 

 down, the other up a tree trunk ; the 

 scolding jays, making as noisy protest 

 over human intrusion as if they had just 

 discovered it ; a saucy squirrel, scoffing 

 and jeering, till tired of his raillery he 

 settles down to quiet nut-rasping under 

 shelter of his tail. 



There are unseen visitors, too : wood- 

 mice, astir under cover of the fallen 

 leaves, and, just discernible among the 

 patter of the falling rain and of the squir- 

 rels' filings, footfalls unidentified, till a 

 ruffed grouse starts new showers from 

 the wet branches in the thunder of his 

 flight. 



Narrowed to the width of tent or 

 shanty front, the background but a 

 pallid shroud of mist, the landscape yet 

 holds much for pleasant study. But if 

 the weather-bound camper exhausts this 

 or tires of it, he may turn to gun-clean- 

 ing or tackle-mending. If a guide be 

 with him, he can listen to his stories of 

 hunting, fishing, and adventure, or learn 

 woodcraft of him and the curious ways 

 of birds and beasts. He may fashion 

 birch-bark camp-ware, dippers, cups, and 

 III 



