MY FIRST CAMP. 35 
fata, and back again through all its divisions and 
ramifications, and all you will know about it will be 
that it is a long-tailed decapod, and inhabits fresh- 
water streams. 
Long-tailed decapod, forsooth ! 
Come with me, reader, and I will show you more of 
crayfish and their ways than you can learn in a week 
of books. Follow in my wake, or, as the path is 
slippery, take good hold of my hand. The way leads 
up hill and over rocks, wet and smooth, for perhaps a 
mile. Don’t mind the wet leaves that continually flap 
in your face, or the vines and creeping ferns that 
vex your feet. Take a good grip and come along. 
In the language of the immortal bard (who, by the 
way, never knew of crayfish like these) : 
“T prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow.” 
We may have completed a mile, when Marie 
stopped: “Stay here, monsieur.” I staid, while she 
went behind a large rock and removed her shoes. 
Then I was allowed to follow on until the path was 
left, and we entered the deeper woods to descend to 
the river. Opposite another huge rock she stopped 
again. “Wait there, monsieur.” Behind this rock 
she darted with her little companion, and shortly re- 
appeared. 
Satyrs and wood-nymphs! I thought these girls 
about as thinly clad as possible when they disap- 
peared behind the rock, but I declare in all serious- 
ness, they had left a large bundle of clothes behind. 
What a mysterious combination is woman! And 
there they stood, laughing and blushing, in a single 
dress each, loosely gathered at the shoulders, and at 
