MY FIRST CAMP. 37 
up over my coat-collar so rapidly that I was im- 
mediately as bloated as a bull-frog. The rain had 
long ago drenched me, but, though wet before, I did 
not care to get wet behind. 
My half-smothered yells brought Marie to my as- 
sistance, and she rescued me and the bird, and then 
suggested I could wade better with my boots off. 
Happy thought! The boots were removed. I need 
not detail, to any one who has had the experience, the 
pleasure of wading barefoot over stones and rocks for 
the first time in years. A little torture was enough 
for me, and in half an hour I was quietly seated, dry- 
ing in the sun, watching the girls at their work. The 
stream was broad, with deep pools, and in these 
pools the crayfish lurked, looking like miniature 
lobsters through the clear water. I could see only 
the small ones, but Marie assured me there were large 
ones out of sight beneath the cascades. I was glad of 
that, for several severe nips from these small ones had 
given me enough of crayfish, and I did not care 
whether my friends in America ever got a specimen. 
Erect upon the rock she stood a moment, then 
plunged head-foremost into a foaming pool, disap- 
pearing from sight. A moment later, rising bubbles 
preceded a round little head, from which hung long, 
limp tresses; a pair of shoulders brown and bare, and 
round arms and little hands reaching out for a support. 
She had a crayfish in each hand, and another, with 
wriggling legs, in her mouth. These she handed to 
the little girl on the rock near me, and then climbed 
out and stood erect, with heaving bosom and parted 
lips, and nonchalantly gathered up her dripping 
skirts and wrung from them the water. Outlined 
