278 



RECREA TION. 



leaves still clinging to the low bushes. The 

 scent of wild thyme was on the air; and 

 my mind dwelt more on the entertaining 

 theory than on the object of my visit here. 



Seth's gun startled me from my reverie. 

 Again came the report. Looking over 

 where the sound came from, I saw Seth 

 holding up 2 rabbits. " Git ter work, over 

 thar," he shouted. " Yer won't git nothin' 

 standin' an' gazin' round like thet." 



Down the hill I went, jumping 3 rabbits, 

 and killing 2 of them. Then, following 

 the stone wall that divided the fallow from 

 the cultivated fields, I saw a fresh track 

 leading into a hole among the stones. 

 Kneeling down, I reached in and grasped 

 the trembling occupant by the hind legs 

 and drew him, kicking, from his retreat. 



" Give 'im a fair chance! " Glancing up 

 I saw Seth, an interested spectator. 



" I intend to; here goes," and tossing 

 the rabbit a few feet, I watched him speed 

 away to the woods. 



" Haven't we got enough game fer ter- 

 day? Let's go hum; I'm a-gettin' hungry, 

 haint you? " said Seth, almost with one 

 breath. 



"Yes, I'm ready to go; it's nearly 2 

 o'clock. How many rabbits did you 

 shoot? " 



" Five, sence I come from th' big woods; 

 7 altogether. How many hev you got? " 



" Six, all told." Discussing the incidents 

 of the day, we trudged homeward, across 

 the white fields, laden with the spoils of a 

 winter day's sport. 



A DRY CAMP. 



DR. E. B. DAVIS. 



About the middle of January last, I left 

 Eagle camp, Catalina island, at 10 a.m., to 

 go to Little Harbor, 6 miles distant. The 

 trail led over high, bald ridges, and into 

 deep canyons. 



Arriving at the harbor at one o'clock, a 

 rest of 2 hours was taken. Then began the 

 return trip. Shortly after leaving the port 

 my right knee began to fail — a trick it has 

 — making walking slow and painful. The 

 day was warm and the active exercise and 

 profuse perspiration caused a severe thirst; 

 and no water was to be found. 



On the summits of these mountains the 

 trails are obscure, often being crossed and 

 re-crossed by other trails; so it requires 

 careful watching to keep the right one. 

 After passing over, as I thought, the last 

 ridge, I took the plainest trail up the little 

 valley; but the creek was dry, while that 

 of Middle Ranch canyon had running wa- 

 ter past Eagle camp. 



I kept on for 2 hours after dark, follow- 

 ing the trail by the faint moonlight, until 

 it became evident I could not reach camp 

 that night. 



I was tired, wet with perspiration, and had 

 an extremely painful knee. To add to my 

 discomfort, a light rain began to fall, as if 

 to mock at my intense thirst. Halting at 

 last under 2 jack oaks, with branches reach- 

 ing the ground, I soon had a fire burning, 

 and ate the remainder of my lunch. I have 

 a rule never to leave camp without a lunch 

 in my pocket. 



I then settled down to make a night of 

 it. The nights are long in January, but at 

 6.30 it was light enough to take up the trail 

 again. About 2 miles beyond my dry camp 

 there was a little water in the creek. I had 

 previously wet my parched tongue by 

 dragging my handkerchief over the wet 

 grass, and with one end between my teeth, 



wringing out a little water. Now cup after 

 cup was swallowed. 



After going a mile farther, and still see- 

 ing no sign that the trail left the valley, 

 while the mountains were higher and more 

 precipitous, I resolved to take the back 

 trail, down the creek again, even if I had 

 to go to the Pacific ocean, to find where I 

 had passed the cross trail. Keeping a sharp 

 lookout, I followed down the bed of the 

 creek, mile after mile. At 10.30 I was sur- 

 prised to go plump into Eagle camp. 



The letter Y will explain the cause of my 

 dilemma. Placed thus > , the lower point 

 is Eagle camp, the upper, Little Harbor. 

 The regular trail cut across between these 

 points. The trail I followed branched 

 down to the stem of the Y and led to 

 Avalon. I was none the w se for my ex- 

 perience. 



Now I would add another rule for camp 

 life: Never leave camp, in the West, with- 

 out a canteen of water, unless you resolve 

 to follow the banks of a river no smaller 

 than the Missouri. 



The climate of this island is perfection. 

 The mid-winter air is soft and balmy, like 

 our Northern June — too warm to exercise 

 much in the sunshine. All verdure is green, 

 including tenderfoot; flowers in full bloom, 

 while the constant songs of mocking birds 

 and other feathered songsters make the air 

 melodious. 



We had but 2 rainy days in 6 weeks, up 

 to the middle of the rainy season. 



Shooting and sea fishing are unexcelled; 

 while for those who wish to camp, con- 

 veniences of water, fuel, and supplies are 

 of the best. I would be delighted to see 

 the thousands of over-worked business and 

 professional men resting and recreating on 

 this " Isle of Summer." 



