252 



R EC RE A TION. 



liantly illuminated. Kate had brought 

 along six or seven petroleum torch- 

 lights, such as are used in political pro- 

 cessions, and had placed them here and 

 there about the camp. She was assist- 

 ing old Caline in the preparation of 

 supper, which was soon ready. 



I do not believe I ever enjoyed a 

 meal so much as I did that supper. The 

 crisply browned fish, fragrant coffee 

 and delicious hoe-cakes made up a 

 feast. 'Can I cook, nunky ?" roguishly 

 questioned Kate, as I lifted my sixth fish 

 from the dish. '* Let this be my answer," 

 said I, as I held the fish aloft for a mo- 

 ment, and then proceeded to devour it. 



After supper, we strolled down to the 

 Falls, and seating ourselves on the 

 rocks, watched the water as it fell in 

 creamy masses into the deep pool be- 

 low. The moon was shining bright, and 

 a faint lunar rainbow could be seen in 

 the misty cloud arising from the foot 

 of the Falls. In the still reach, farther 

 down stream, big-mouth bass were ris- 

 ing to the surface every now and then, 

 making swirls and eddies in the deep, 

 oily looking water ; while closer in 

 shore rock bass were leaping from the 

 stream, showing their silvery sides in the 

 moonlight, ere they dropped back into 

 the water. 



" Never mind, my beauties," said 

 Kate, grimly ; " I'll have some of you in 

 the frying-pan before five o'clock to- 

 morrow morning." 



" This is the recreation hour of the 

 fish, Kate, and they are simply play- 

 ing." 



After enjoying the scene for half an 

 hour we walked back to the camp. I 

 replenished the fire and then asked for 

 some music. My little companion 

 brought from the tent her violin, note- 

 book and folding music stand. 



She made a beautiful picture as she 

 stood bathed in the light of the flaming 

 torches. Her finely modeled head, cov- 

 ered with its short, curly hair, was 

 slightly inclined to one side. Beneath 

 her chin nestled the violin, which she 

 seemed to hold with a caressing tender- 

 ness. The bow hung for a second, 

 poised above the strings, and then a low, 

 soft whisper of sound stole out on the 

 still night air and I closed my eyes. I 

 seemed to feel the breath of the cool 

 wind of dawn on my face and hair, and 

 to hear the sleepy twitterings of birds as 

 they awoke from slumber. Suddenly the 

 crow of a cock pierced the air, followed 

 by the warbling melody of a blue-bird. 

 The sweet, low cadenza of a hermit- 

 thrush next stole upon my ear, followed 



A QUIET REACH BELOW THE FALLS. 



