272 



RECREATION. 



"Isn't it delightful?" exclaimed 

 the huntress. 



" I think it will be," said one poor 

 woman, comforted a little by the 

 sun's rays. 



" I never felt so lost before in my 

 life," said the young woman. 



" To-morrow, when the men get off, 

 we'll go out and shoot some birds. 

 I'll show you how;" the shot said 

 confidently, taking her rifle out of 

 its bagging. " It's not so lonesome 

 here as you think. There's an In- 

 dian settlement not far from here, a 

 little ways back in the country. The 

 men are always off hunting, and the 

 squaws stay at home. I used to 

 make nothing of going over there 

 with my husband, and while he went 

 off with the Indians I would stay 

 around with the women and amuse 

 myself with the papooses. That's 

 how I learned to make those curious 

 feather things you all saw." 



" I wish I hadn't come," said the 

 young woman, gazing tenderly at 

 her trunks, as, pivoted first on one 

 end and then on the other, sinking a 

 good half-foot into the bed of wet 

 earth and leaves, our men, lacking 

 the dexterity of the railway luggage 

 porter, laboriously hauled and tugged 

 at them, on their way to the tent. 

 There, sighing a peculiar sound of 

 words under their breath, they turned 

 to meet the thankful but tearful gaze 

 of the young lady. 



" With a never-failing supply of 

 fish, no need of laying in such a stock 

 of canned goods," said the oldest 

 man of the party, bearing aloft a tin 

 pan filled with pickerel and a bass on 

 top, all freshly caught and dressed 

 by the water's side, ready for the 

 coals. The men were hungry and 

 ate voraciously. The coffee, made 

 in a new tin pot, by the ladies, was 

 delicious, and under its stimulus even 

 the most timid of us cheered up. We 

 had food, shelter, and good company. 

 To-morrow we should enter upon 

 our career. 



A night's sleep in the open air can- 

 not fail to have its good effect; and to 

 those of us used to sleeping in stuffy 

 rooms all our lives, the effect was 



magical. The aroma of coffee and a 

 savory fry of fish were most inviting, 

 and done full justice to, even by those 

 of us who never had any appetite in 

 the morning at home. 



The huntress of the party sat in 

 the door of the tent in true Indian 

 fashion, and tenderly polished her 

 rifle, while the rest of us who " were 

 afraid of a gun," stood admiringly at 

 a safe distance. 



After seeing the men depart and 

 giving them a hilarious send-off, our 

 crack shot turned immediately to 

 business. 



" Come, now, leave those tins to 

 the guide to clean. Let's go and see 

 if we can't get some birds." 



" But I don't like to go alone," 

 said the young lady. 



" You're not going alone. We're 

 all going — I'm going, and you can't 

 get lost. We won't go far the first 

 day;" as, shouldering her rifle jaun- 

 tily, she led the way. Trustingly we 

 older women followed. Only the 

 younger wished " that we had some 

 one along." 



" Oh, she's one of those who can 

 never do anything without a man 

 tugging at their heels," said our 

 Diana, contemptuously. 



We had been walking about two 

 hours without incident, save once, 

 when our shot " winged something," 

 and brought down a song-bird whose 

 red plumage, as it lay in the pitying 

 hand of the young woman, " would 

 look well on a gray hat," the shooter 

 informed us. 



At length one of our number, more 

 bold than the others, ventured to ask 

 if we had not gone far enough. 



" Oh, no ; when we get half way 

 you can see the Indian settlement. 

 But we shall not take that in to-day; 

 we will leave it for some other time." 



The sand, which by this time had 

 sifted in over our shoe-tops, was be- 

 ginning to chafe our feet painfully. 

 We were in a dense thicket, with no 

 sign of a trail. " There doesn'tseem 

 to be any way of getting out of here," 

 said one. 



" Oh, that's because you are un- 

 used to these woods," was the flip- 



