Nov. 25, 1911-] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
771 
sand to the bank, where he set it down, turned 
it bottom side up and placed two heavy stones 
upon it. Recrossing the sand, he dug deeply 
into it with his toe and then returned to the 
canoe, from under which he pulled a paddle. 
He dug a hole two feet across and eighteen 
inches deep and then picked up the packsack 
and climbed the bank to his companion. 
“Dug a bean hole,” he said as he lowered 
the pack. 
The bowman nodded. He had just driven two 
upright forked sticks into the ground and was 
laying a small pole across. Under this he 
started a fire with some dry jackpine he had 
cut into two-foot lengths. The blaze well 
started, he cut notches in three hooked sticks 
he had brought from the brush and hung them 
on the crane. 
He then turned to the packsack and, un¬ 
buckling the three straps, threw back the cover 
from the wide-mouthed bag. On top was a 
canvas sack in which was an oval pail with a 
tight fitting cover. Inside this was another 
pail, of the same shape, and inside it, in turn, 
a third. The last held three large flaring-sided 
cups. The pails were taken to the lake and 
filled. Into the medium sized one the bowman 
poured a cup of wild rice taken from a canvas 
sack in the pack. Retied, the rice sack was 
tossed back. Salt for seasoning came from a 
friction top tin. Then the pail handle was 
placed in the notch of one of the hooked sticks 
and the pail hung in the blaze. The smaller 
pail was hung at one side of the fire. 1 he 
largest pail was partially emptied into the cups, 
some dried apricots thrown in and then set 
over the fire. 
From the back of the packsack a flat affair 
of tin was drawn. Opened, and its triangular 
sides pulled out and hooked into place, it was 
set before the fire, the wedge-shaped back sup¬ 
ported by two folding legs. It was a folding 
baker, a gaping-mouthed contrivance weighing 
not more than four pounds which bakes as per¬ 
fectly as the most scientifically constructed 
oven. The long flat pan drawn from the middle 
of the baker was greased with bacon drippings 
from a friction top can and replaced. 
From another canvas sack was taken a fry¬ 
ing-pan, minus a handle; three plates, a broad, 
shallow pan, knives, forks and two tablespoons. 
In the shallow pan the bowman placed flour— 
from another canvas sack—baking powder and 
salt, to which, after a thorough mixing, was 
added bacon drippings. The grease well worked 
into the flour, enough water was added to make 
a thin dough. Taking the hot pan from the 
baker, he dropped big spoonfuls of dough into 
it. The fire was built up and the baker, con¬ 
taining the biscuits, placed near it. 
I had been sitting on a windfall, admiring the 
speed with which the bowman worked and 
answering and asking occasional questions. But 
the bowman, after seven hours in the canoe 
since lunch, was not allowing conversation to 
delay his supper. The baker placed satisfac¬ 
torily, another stick he had brought from the 
brush was squared at one end with his knife 
until it fitted a loop on one side of the frying- 
pan, thus giving him a skillet with a handle 
long enough to use with comfort over the bak¬ 
ing fire. From still another friction tin he 
emptied cold boiled beans into the frying-pan, 
added bacon drippings and heated them. 
THREE SHOTS AT A BUCK. 
From a photograph by Louis L. Lawton. 
Warmed, the beans were placed in a plate near 
the fire. Then bacon was taken from the sack, 
cut into strips and placed in the frying pan. 
By this time the apricots had boiled sufficient¬ 
ly and were emptied into the shallow pan. 
After getting water from the lake, the bowman 
added beans, measured by the handful, and hung 
the pail over the fire. More attention to the 
fire, a shifting of the baker, and a readjustment 
of hooks to set the boiling rice to one side so 
that it would only simmer, kept the bowman at 
work. 
When the taller canoeist had arrived at the 
camping spot he had picked up the ax dropped 
by the bowman. Looking about for perhaps 
ten seconds, he walked into the brush. His 
quick, sharp ax blows could be heard, and soon 
I saw a jackpine stub sway and fall. A few 
more blows and he came out, dragging half 
of the stub by the ax. Part of it he cut into 
two-foot lengths for the camp-fire, splitting it 
to about cooking stove size, and the rest he 
cut and split into larger pieces, which he 
tossed over the bank to the hole he had dug 
in the sand. Thirty seconds under the bank, 
and he reappeared, followed soon by a stead¬ 
ily increasing column of smoke and the snap¬ 
ping and crackling of the fire he had started in 
the hole. 
He returned at once to the brush, only to 
reappear soon with two long, forked poles and 
two shorter, more slender ones. Ihe last two 
he quickly converted into ten-inch lengths on 
an old windfall. Almost as quickly he 
sharpened and tossed them into a pile. An¬ 
other short disappearance in the brush, and he 
returned, dragging a balsam sapling. This 
he stripped of its limbs with a score of quick 
clips of the ax. Then, taking the largest limbs, 
he laid them on the ground, the bowed side 
up, the butts in the same direction. After 
covering a space about four feet square with 
the larger limbs, he began placing the smaller 
ones on top, also with the bowed sides up, the 
butts in the same direction. In this manner the 
first layer was thatched three times, and the 
result was a square pile of boughs about a foot 
high. 
Unbuckling the packsack he had carried up 
the bank, the stern paddler pulled from the top 
a tan-colored sack containing a tan-colored 
tent, light and waterproofed. He unrolled this, 
displaying, as he shook it out, a brown square 
of light weight canvas sewed to the lighter tent 
material. This square he pegged out at the 
four corners in such a manner that the pile of 
boughs was under one side. After driving four 
stakes on each side, he inserted the forks of the 
two poles in a strong canvas loop attached to 
the tent. A lift on each pole, and there stood 
the tent, stretched tightly and without a 
wrinkle. It was pyramid shape and about eight 
feet square and as high. 
From the packsack then came a double and 
tape-reinforced piece of mosquito netting, which 
was fastened to one side of the front of the 
tent by snaps and rings. It was followed by 
two flour sacks, each filled, I saw later, with an 
extra shirt, socks, tobacco and personal trifles. 
Then came a disjointed casting rod, a take¬ 
down .22 rifle and two blankets, heavy and all 
wool. The blankets were spread in the tent, 
over the pile of boughs and on top of the 
brown square of canvas, the duffle sacks set 
