The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1908-10-21
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THE LAST night IN CAMP.
By FRED. |. PURDY.


Nestled among the tall trees of a
river valley in New York States will
derness is a little cabin. Before the
open fireplace in the n large living
room two men sit, dreamily gazing
at the leaping log flames. About
them are scattered hunting paraphes-
MALTA of all kinds, from boots to guns.
On the table well-thumbed volumes
show signs of sudden neglect. Pipes,
dripping ashes, strew the wooden
mantel. The boiling kettle drones
,Iazily. 1t is the last evening of the
last day in camp. To-morrow-back
to the world.
Charlie, the merchant, rises,
stretches, signs and moves to the west
window. His eyes wander afar to the
mountains beyond the river, lit by the
lights of heaven. In the gathering
gloom he marks the place where the
trail to the pond bends between the
hills. Beyond he measures the reach
OF the dry swamp, where the big deer
hide. Around the lessening horizon
he follows the outlets flow until it
joins the river with a rush-and then
he signs again.
II wish we could stay longer!"
There is a plaintive note of regret
in his voice. Leslie, the editor, hears,
but does not answe He is seeing
things in the fantastic movements OF
the flames.
Charlie picks up his gun, looks over
the cights and then slowly pushes an
oil rag through the barrel. Then he
sits down and gazes again into the
fire
Leslie stirs and signs. He, too,
rises, and, from the north window.
peers afar to Hardwood Island and
Pine Ridge. With his eyes he follows
the cranberry swamp to the old lum-
Der camp and on beyond to Silver
Brook and the raspberry patch.
ats tough to go back to the desk"
he says. His voice is no more joyous
than that of the merchant, and his
words bring no response.
Leslie lifts his mud-stained hunting
boots, cleans and greases them and
hangs them on a hook-for a year.
Then he drops again into the chair be-
fore. the fire. The kettle sings it's
song louder and louder. An hour
slips by-an hour in which the long
tramps, the wading Of streams and
climbing.o OF hills, the shots that meant
meat, and the weary but happy far
Ing toward the open CRATE in the even
ipg-were all silently reviewed and
weighed and measured, and measured
and weighed and reviewed, BIZ the
dreamers before the fire.
Leslie turned to the man-made
satchel and took from it a man-made
linen collar. He looked at it more
than casually. He encirclcd his
broiized neck with it and s%huddered,
Did o ever think that there
must be a hades?"hea asked, reflective
ly. Elise there would be no here.
after for the man that invented the
stiff linen collar"
The merchant showed symptoms OF
taking notice.
THE collar fend does not deserve
the measure of torment that has beer
completely won by the inventor of the
boiled shirt" he replied.
Then they gazed into the fire and
lost themselves in fought.
We'll, we must pack up, l sup
pose" said the merchant at last.
Yes, we must pack up dreamily
echoed the editor.
And they continued to stare at the
fire.
The moments flew by and outside
the gloom increased. The mountain:
across the river were no longer dis
cernible and the shadows in thu
woods were deep and dark. BY thu
flicker of the fire the merchant sough
his razor, while he ran his tanned
fingers through his facial under
growth. Finding the desired instru
ment of human torture, he-sat dowI
and again gazed. into the flames.
The editor yawned and reaching
for the drinking cup. interrupted tn
song of the kettle by filling the cul
with hot water. He, too, was think
ing OF the moving that civilization
demands of mans face. Then he
fixed his eyes on the fire.
ITS no USE" said the merchant
finally and desperately. Here goes.
He arose with determination ant
began the work of preparation fo
the departure. Lamps were lit, sweat
ORC wora 6Offp6 and the ra1orS war.
applied. Then came the packing. I
was a busy hour or more unbroken b.
words. Buckles clicked, strap
creaked and the kettle sang. In
wardly the merchant and the edito
groaned.
Morning came only to emphssiz
the regret. Stiff collars chafed necks
stiff hats pinched heads, stiff shoe
crowded feet and stiff shirts held un