FOREST AND STREAM 
471 
Down The Tomorrow 
A Deluge—Breaking Camp at Midnight—More Adventures 
Never did three people break camp as quickly 
as did we. In a very few moments our duffle, 
save the tent, was in the water-proof bags, and 
we thanked the kind Providence that impelled us 
to provide them. Then, with something better 
than a hundred and fifty pounds on my back, I 
set out to make my way through the darkness to 
that hill. Of course, I left the lamp with Wife 
and Girl in the tent to give them courage, and 
also that I might quickly find camp again. 
I have been an outdoor man all my life, and 
consequently have had some tough experiences, 
but my struggles there in the darkness far ex¬ 
ceeded anything I have ever undergone. Why, 
the very bottom had dropped out of the earth! 
Where I had walked with ease and safety when 
making camp I sank to my knees. The soil 
seemed like pudding. I got into a spring hole at 
last and went down flat on my back, the pack 
keeping head and shoulders out of the mire. 
My first impulse was to call for help, but upon 
second thought I knew that that would not do, as 
it would only serve to get the others into the 
same mess. So I got out of the straps somehow, 
dragged the pack out'of the spring-hole and 
snailed it through the brush foot by foot, cling¬ 
ing to the brush with one hand and to the straps 
with the other. It was a very tired, wet and dirty 
camper that finally reached the hill. Knowing 
there was no time to lose, puffing, I turned back 
once more. 
Profiting by my former experience, I followed 
the river down, so reached the tent without get¬ 
ting into the spring-hole, though I waded knee- 
deep through mud. I found Wife and Girl anx¬ 
iously waiting for me, the little point of land al¬ 
most under water. Quickly taking down the tent, 
we set out for the hill, and with the aid of the 
light reached it and our duffle without trouble. 
Spreading the tent over the pile of bedding, and 
taking the cameras, we set out to find a farm¬ 
house. Had Wif~ and I been alone I think we 
would have rolled up in our bedding as we were 
and toughed the night out, but the thought of 
what the exposure might mean to Girl impelled 
us to seek shelter. 
Not knowing which way to travel, I started, 
followed through the wet underbrush by Wife 
and Girl. Had it not been for our light our task 
would have been more difficult, and as it was we 
did not consider it exactly a picnic. Fortunately 
the rain had nearly ceased, but we were soon 
soaked to the skin from contact with the wet 
brush in spite of our “water-proof” garments— 
that is, my companions were. My experience in 
the “Slough of Despond” had already wetted me 
so thoroughly that water no longer bothered. In¬ 
deed, I was glad to have the brush wipe off some 
of the mud. 
At last we came to an open potato field and 
set out down the long rows, our feet sinking 
into the soft earth six or eight inches at every 
step. As a boy, when hoeing potatoes on the old 
farm, I used to think the rows long, but those 
By O. W. Smith. 
(Concluded from last week.) 
that night were interminable. It was raining 
again. I wish I had a picture of us as we went 
splashing through that field, in single file, humped 
up to the storm. 
At last we made out a house at our right, 
looming lightless and forbidding in the gloom. 
Good Fishing is Usually to be Had. 
Approaching with one eye out for a dog. Wife 
hammered on the door and called. There was no 
answer. So we walked around to the front and 
hammered at the door on that side, but with no 
better success. There was but one thing for us— 
look for another house. 
Just as we reached the highway the front door 
opened, and a woman began to talk in a foreign 
tongue. Wife went back to explain our plight, 
but the old lady shut the door in her face, and 
shouted directions or prayers in her native lan¬ 
guage. Realizing that we had frightened one 
lone woman almost into fits, we continued wearily 
down the road looking for the next haven of 
refuge. The way in which Girl’s feet dragged 
made me anxious to reach shelter quickly. 
A few rods back from the road a light winked 
encouragingly, and we bent our footsteps in its 
direction. I at least was determined that we 
would tramp no farther. So when the door 
opened in response to my knock I stepped within, 
closely followed by my companions in distress. 
No lady was present, though I was sure that I 
saw a skirt whisk into an adjoining room just as 
the door was opened. The grin with which the 
two gentlemen present greeted us was hardly en¬ 
couraging. I told my story and discovered by 
the expression on our would-be host’s face that 
it was hardly credited. 
I have always held that it is best to tell the 
absolute truth when doubted, so I informed the 
man that I, a Congregational minister, was out 
on a vacation, in company with my wife and child. 
That did the business. He knew I lied. I saw it 
in his face. However, I stuck to my tale and in¬ 
formed him that in the morning I would take him 
down to our outfit and canoe, for I had fastened 
the latter to a tree before leaving the flats. I 
honestly believe the fellow wanted to send us on, 
but his conscience would not allow him to do 
that, so he compromised by taking us out to the 
grainery and giving us a bed there. So, wet as 
we were, we rolled up in the blankets, glad for 
the roof over our heads upon which the rain was 
beating a merry tattoo, and Girl and I slept, 
though Wife lay awake nearly all night listening 
to the rats that played all manner of games on 
the floor. I was just about all in, and could 
have slept, I believe, in a boiler factory. Wife 
had us out before five o’clock, and as we had set¬ 
tled with our kindly host the night before for our 
entertainment, we made our way back to the 
hill, finding our outfit undisturbed and compara¬ 
tively dry. 
The first thing, of course, was breakfast, for 
we all felt the need of a warm meal. Building a 
fire was something of a task, as everything was 
soaked and rain still falling. But, as always, we 
found the dead twigs on living pine trees ready 
to ignite, and in due time we had a great fire 
going. One can burn anything when he gets heat 
enough, and we piled on logs and stumps. Then 
at one side we built a little fire over which to 
cook breakfast. Breakfast—hot coffee and 
breakfast-food—changed the complexion of af¬ 
fairs, and we were able to look the day in the 
face with new courage. We were of one mind 
as to what was best to do—stay where we were 
over Sunday. 
The mosquitoes were troublesome, so I cleared 
away the underbrush which afforded them pro¬ 
tection, raked the fire 'over to a new spot, and 
pitched the tent where it had been; thus we con¬ 
fined the warmth from the heated ground in the 
tent, and by suspending the blankets from the 
ridge of the tent soon had. our bedding dry and 
inviting. Then I cut great armfuls of pine and 
spruce branches, which I heaped about the large 
fire which we kept going some distance from the 
tent. When dry, 1 would pack them away and 
