The record-union., 1891-05-23
BACKWOODS BELLIES.
One of Them Attends a Picnic
Near Santa Rosa.
She Has Left the Wilds of Lake County,
but is as Full of Life as Ever-A
Party of Bohemians Enjoying Them
selves In the Woods.

Especial correspondence of RECoRD-UNIoN.l
Once a day dawned, glad as brides fair
face
Perfume and light and joy it did unfold
Life was holiday enjoyed with zest,
And grateful hearts the while it winged its
hight.-EberS
1t is astonishing how few days COM
munion with Nature viii bring out all
that is wild in ones makeup. Sometimes
the most dignified will be guilty of acts
that, in their orderly home-life, would be
lasting disgrace. 1t was the good for
tune of the writer to form one of party
that left this city q few days ago for two
days campout and fishing excursion.
The city limits were not more than cleared
when the welkin echoed with the exu-
berance of JOY. Be it said that I my
self maintained the grave demeanor
that alone insured the party against be-
ing run into the asylum as escaped lu-
natics. But having just finished Society
as / Have Found IT, it served as brake
on my bubbling spirits, and when tempt
ed to scale zig-zaggy stake and ride
fence, or turn somerSaults in the flow
er-Sprinkled Sward, the mandates of
Ward f1oated before me in gentle reproof,
and | refrained-for the time being. To
use pet phrase of Wards, 1 was mot
in it,
This particular party obeyed the time
hOnored custom of campers since the
world was new, in stopping when five
miles from nowhere and taking an in
ventory of the stock. 1t resulted in the
mournful fact that two necessities were
Omitted-the Ratchet and chewing gum.
The day was perfect, the skies were never
bluer, the sun never brighter, and only
white baby cloud was cradled in the
heavens, rocked by the gentlest breeZes-
or words to that effect. CThat is always
the thought inflicted on picnic days if you
viii notice.
1t was a Jolly wine-maker that stopped one of
three
And the sunlight filtered through two
bottles, one clear as limpid water, one
crimson and heavy as life-blood.
Standing bareheaded, the unreefed
hickory shirt inveigled the visitors into
adding to their cargo by saying, Ion,
yes, he makee de feesh bite We would
take anything along to insure success in
the fishing department, from a bottle of
wine to a white elephant.
On the banks Of Russian River a halt
was made and fishing began. Fishing is
royal fun for those who like it. bu onte
has to like it. There are few things more
eXasperating than having the finest worm
you have nibbled from the hook scion
titically, leaving it black and cleaning,
while the little tinny devil goes floating
away in the silent depths Of the shady
pool. He hangs in the water a second,
quiet as death, he sinks softly, his head
goes up, he casts fishy glance at you,
the fins culver, and with jerk of his tail
he speeds into obscurity. They are vastly
more interesting when laying heads and
tails in pan in a snowy-bed Of corn
meal.
1t was hunger that prompted the COM
pany to seek the congeniality of each
others society-plain, everyday hunger.
The gentleman III the brown duck coat
and corduroy pantaloOns was called Nc
AlliSter, for his superior knowledge in
serving the fricasseed spuds and cold beans
and for his stubbornly refusing to eat
from his pan third time without rims
ing 1t in the brook, point of fastidious-
ness unknown IN camp life. The evening
meal was cooked on three bricks lust
within the corporate limits of some indie
pendent farmers potato patch and served
in grassy sward. The table consisted
of coon trap that McAllister found in
his exploration of the redwood fores
The door was fast shut and overgrown
with grasses, and fearing TO investigate
the probable contents, the mystery deep
ened as we munched and munched and
munched. Never fairer covering decked
a groaning board-'twas a copy of the
RECORD UNION.
Surely, surely, that apparition at the
head Of the festal board cannot be the de-
mure lassie who daily walks with digni-
fed demeanor down the street The
bonnie curls are in disorder, falling in
tangle from under a wide-briInmed
straw hat. She lost her jacket, she pleads
as an excuse for the overcoat that envel-
opes her. The long curly lashes shade
a soft cheek that the sun has kissed into
brown, and holding high lineup of muir
ky coffee she drinks long life to her Lance
lot, who sits very fiat on the ground, a tim
plate on his knees and supplying the
earthly part of his being with cold ba-
con. 1t was Miss who sat on huge clod
and remarked, as she saw the last drop of
the roSy-red disappear down his throat
"L2uncelot! Yes, I'd call him Drink-a-
Lot"
While the feasters reveled she sat
thong htfully gazing at the beautiful pan
Drama, and resting her chin on one hand
and signing softly, expressed her appre-
citation OF the mighty grandeur by qui-
city remarking, "WelI, Pm stuck on the
scenery"
The idea of spreading tent was ig-
nored and the desire to sleep under the
jeweled heavens was gratihed. 1t was
at the edge of forest of redwoods and on
couch OF the spicy boughs that the Boz
hemlanS sought repoSe. The thought is
poetical one, and sounds well to the
uninitiated, but to seek the soothing for
getfulness the drowsy god bestows, with
petrlned forest under ones spinal back
bone, is not CONDUCIVE to sweet dreams.
In the eloquent stiffness of the night
Launcelot was heard to murmur senti-
ments unheard of in Sunday-school tales,
as his steed tried to eat the sack of oats on
which was pillowed his gallant head.
The inconvenience one undergoes, how
ever, is the main enjoyment OF camp life
"a a ma wi 10 fir1rr tbCf
ful and wonderful culinary experiments,
and corduroy bed makes US appreciate
the comforts of home. The campfire has
been sung in story from time immemo-
rial, but this particular fire lit up with its
struggling flames, 1.-The maddest, merri-
est' features that well regulated camp
hre has ever shone on. The moon hung
over the hill a silver sickle, and fiinging
her long, white arms over us, all was
quiet. Next to the County Jail there is
no place that invites meditation like the
cosy campfire. AS the soft blue rings
pipe. each was busy with his or her
thoughts. One wondering how much of
vacuum her presence had left in the So
clal atmosphere, another dreaming of a
deep chair by fireside with the lamp
light gllnting on his wife's gold-colored
hair, the slender fingers busily dangling
thread" One has in mind a bachelors
den where, in sweet confusion, papers
are knee deep; a table where a semi-cir-
cular clearance for the swing of his pen
has banked up treasures; books and min
erals, favorite pipes and loose tobacco,
love letters and soiled handkerchiefs.
What dreams the bird-dog, resting his
dainty nose on his brown paws and
blinking at the crinkling embers? Maybe
of the latest statement of his master of the
quail he knocked the feathers ''outen.'
A tiny bridge SPAWNED ravine, and
oyer this crashing thr0nnh the masses of