Tue Carrain AND CREW. 257 
Cn 

draught of the rich, pure air we feel drifting down upon us 
from up the stream, and off the trees, we hear from the 
captain. 
‘* Hillo! cut off some pig pork and parboil in the small fry 
pan.” 
SeAGic, ave, Sit”? 
This is placed upon the fire, resting upon the back log and 
fore stick, which is raised nearly a foot from the ground, 
giving room for draught and chance to feed the fire beneath 
as we please. As the pork is freshened and fried, the captain 
shows up with his large fry pan full of trout, placed in after 
his own usual style, leaving scarcely room for a minnow in 
any place. 
‘¢ Well, Cap, this is gay and fine; being rather busy, I did 
not see you catching many. Isn’t this a pretty mess?” 
‘¢ Well, yes, rather, with a half dozen larger ones lying 
upon the canoe.” 
soo there is.” 
He now monopolises the clear end of the fire, inadvertently 
of course, which we yield apparently with a good grace, 
knowing he cannot be outdone in the cooking any more than 
in the catching of them. 
Supper. Elegantly browned trout; half a dozen of 
Uncle Nat’s new land potatoes, boiled; one raw onion each; 
bread and butter; cup of tea; Aroostook doughnuts. 
Supper over and all made clean again, the captain leans 
back and quietly enjoys his cigar, while the crew, upon this 
occasion, under the circumstances, and after -such a trout 
supper, still clings to his old love, the brierwood. Sitting 
upon our camp stools by a cheerful fire, we enjoy the last of 
this fine day and evening. The stars are shining out, not 
