274: MEN / HAVE FISHED WITH. 



We had a tin bake oven, made in flat sections for 

 packing on a man's back, which, when set up before a, 

 camp-fire, flared out so as to reflect the heat from top and 

 bottom on a bread pan, in which we not only baked 

 bread, but beans, pork and 'coons. Imagine a yawning 

 front of eighteen inches sloping to a back of five inches, 

 in the middle of which was the pan, and you have the 

 idea. Mixing soda and cream of tartar with the flour 

 and then wetting it up well! If you don't believe that 

 I made the best bread that was ever baked on this planet 

 just write to my compagnon du voyage, Thomas Davies. 

 Mark the letter "private," because Tom has been married 

 since that time, and he might not wish Mrs. Davies to see 

 his reply; he is eating her biscuit now. Married men 

 will appreciate this caution. 



Four men went on the line McBride, the chief or 

 compass man; one axe man to clear a place for him to 

 see through and to blaze the line, and two chain men. 

 There was then an extra man to bring supplies from our 

 base, and he was in camp with me a great deal. Henry 

 Neaville did most of this work, because he was a very 

 good woodsman, and could find me when I moved camp. 

 Sometimes we stayed several days in a place, and lines 

 would be run in all directions. In the morning I would 

 get an order to "Keep camp here to-day," or to move 

 it. If moved, it might be "two miles east and one mile 

 north," and then before sundown I would clang the cow 

 bell, which we sometimes used on the horses when hob- 

 bled. We used the horses to pack our camp at first 

 while in the country of solid ground, but sent them to 

 Crow Wing when we got into the swampy country, 

 where the springy swamps were frozen enough to permit 

 a man to travel safely without snowshoes, but would not 

 hold the greater weight of a horse with its smaller foot. 



