CAMPING OUT. 287 



you are on a fishing excursion, encamped by the water- 

 side and it rains, they turn the canoes, bottom up, over 

 themselves. 



In winter they make a leaning cover for themselves of 

 boughs and birch bark nearly joining yours (room being 

 left above for the ascent of the smoke), and fill in the sides 

 with the bushes and slabs of split fir, the doorway being 

 covered by a suspended rug. With plenty of firewood at 

 hand, no one who had not been in the woods in winter 

 would credit the comfort and cosiness found in these 

 hunting camps. In fact, the ease with which the wilder- 

 ness can be made a home with so little labour, and the 

 entire independence of the sojourner in the woods who has 

 set up a good camp well stocked with provision for a foi't- 

 night's campaign, and a few changes of flannels and 

 stockings, contribute principally to the charms of forest 

 life. We are seldom storm staid or lose a day by remain- 

 ing within. 



" The frost might glitter, it would blight no crop, 

 The falling rain will spoil no holiday. 

 We were made freemen of the forest laws, 

 All dressed, like Nature, fit for her own ends, 

 Essaying nothing she cannot perform." 



writes one of America's poets ;* and when the snow-storm 

 is driving or the rain drops patter on the autumnal 

 leaves strewn on the ground, it is often seasonable 

 weather to the hunter ; and the evening closes over 

 many an exciting tale of what has been seen or done in 

 the chase on such days. 



As a summer residence I have used a very portable 

 little square camp, opening at one end. The top was 



* Ralph Waldo Emerson. 



