Year: 1878

total an escape as may be from the require ments of civilization. And it remains only to be explained why this is enjoyed mostly by those who are most highly civilized. It is wonderful to see how easily the restraints of society fall of. Many good habits are easily got rid of in the woods Doubt sometimes seems to be felt whether Sunday is legal holiday there. It becomes question Of cas- uistry with clergymgn whether he may shoot at a mark on Sunday if none of his congrega- tion were present. He intends no harm; he only gratifes curiosity to see if he can hit the mark Where shall he draw the line? Doubt less he might throw a stone at chipmunk, or shoot at loon. Might he fire at mark with an air-gun that makes no noise? He will not fish or hunt on Sunday-although he is no more likely to catch anything that day than any other-but may he eat trout that the guide has caught on Sunday, if the guide swears he caught them Saturday night? Is there such thing as vacation in religion? How much of our virtue do we owe to inherited habits?

 The Adirondack wilderness is essentially unbroken; few bad roads that penetrate it, a few jolting wagons that traverse them, few barn-like boarding houses on the edge of the forest, where the boarders are soothed by pat ent coffee, and stimulated to unnatural gayety by Japan tea, and experimeRted on by unique cookery, do little to destroy the savage fascl- nation of the region. In half an hour, at any point one can put himself into solitude and every desirable discomfort. The party that covets the experience of the camp comes down to primitive conditions of dress and equipment. There are guides and porters to carry the blan- kets for beds, the raw provisions and the camp equipage ;. and the motley party of the temporarily deciviliZed files into the wood and begins perhaps on trail, it's exhilarating and weary march. The exhilaration arises partly from the casting aside of restraint, partly from the adventure of exploration and the weari- ness from the interminable toll of bad walk ing, heavy pack, and the grim monotony of trees and bushes that shut out all prospect ex- cept an occasional glimpse of the sky. Moun- tains are painfully climbed, streams forded, lonesome lakes padded over, long and mud dy ''carriers" traversed Fancy this party the victim of political exile banished by the law, and more serrowful march could not be inn agined But the voluntary hardship becomes pleasure and it is undeniable that the spirits of the party rise as the difficulties increase.

 The spot for shanty selected; this side shall be it's opening, toward the lake, and in front of it the fire, so that the smoke shall drift into the hut and discourage the mosquitoes; yonder shall be the cooks fire and the path to the spring. The site is cleared of the under brush; forked stakes are driven into the ground cross-pieces are laid on them, and poles slep- ing back to the ground. In an incredible space of time there is the skeleton of house, which is entirely open in front. The roof and sides must be covered. For this purpose the trunks of great spruces are skinned. The woodman rims the bark near the foet of the tree, and again six feet above, and slashes it perpendicularly; then, with blunt stick, he crowds off this thick hide, exactly as an OK is skinned. It needs but few of tLese skins to cover the roof, and they make perfectly wa ter-tight roof, except when it rains. Mean time busy hands have gathered boughs of the spruce and the feathery balsam, and shingled the ground underneath the shanty for bed. It is an aromatic bed in theory it is elastic and consoling. Upon it are spread the blan- kets. The sleepers of all sexes and ages, are to lie there in row, their feet to the fire and their heads under the sloping roof Nothing could be better contrived. The fire is in front it is not fire, but a confagration, vast heap of green logs, set on fire of pitch and split dead wood and cracking balsams, raging and roaring. By the time twilight falls the cook has prepared supper. Everything has been cooked in tin pail and dasklllet-potatoes, tea, pork mutton, slap-jacks. You wonder how everything could have been prepared in so few utensils: When you eat the wonder ceases; everything might have been cooked in one pail. It is a noble meal, and nobly it is dis posed of by these amateur savages sitting about upon logs and roots of trees Never were such potatoes; never beans that seemed to have more of the bean in them; never such curly pork never trout with more Indian meal on them never mutton more distinctly sheep; and the tea drank out of tin cup, with lump of maple sugar dissolved in it. it is the sort of tea that takes hold, lifts the hair, and disposes the thinker to anecdote and hilariousness. There is no deception about it !; it tastes of tanning and spruce and creosote. Everything, in short, has flavor of the will derness and free life. It is idylic. And yet with all our sentimentality, there is nothing feeble about the cooking The slapjacks are solid job of work, and to last, and not go to pieces in persons stomach like trivial bun; we might record them in cuneiform characters, our incipient civilizations, and future genera tions would doubtless set them up as Arcadian bricks. Good, robust victuals are what the primitive man wants.

 Darkness falls suddenly. Outside the ring of lights from our con1agration, the woods are black. There is tremendous impression of isolation and lonesomeness in our situation. We are the prisoners of night. The woods never seemed so vast and mysterious. The trees are gigantic. There are noises that we do not understand, mysterious winds passing overhead and rambling in the great galleries, definable stirs and uneasness. The shapes of those who pass into the dimness are outlined in monstrous proportions. The specters, seat ed about in the glare of the fire, talk about appearances and presentiments and religion the guides cheer the night with bear fights and catamount encounters, and frozen-to-death experiences, and simple tales of great prolixity and no point, and jokes of primitive lucidity. We hear catamounts and the stealthy tread of things in the leaves, and the hooting of owls, and when the moon rlses the laughter of the loon. Everything is strange, spectral, fascina- ting.

 By and by we get our position in the shanty for the night, and arrange the row of sleepers. The shanty has become smoke-house by this time; waves of smoke roll into it from the fire; it is only by lying down and getting the head well under the eavest that one can breathe. Nc enc can find her ''things ;" nobody has a pillow. At length the row is laid out, with the solemn protestatien of intention to sleep The wind shifting drives away the smoke good night is said a hundred times; positions are readjusted; more last words new shifting about final remarks it is all SO comfortable and romantic, and then silence. Silence con tinues fer minute. The fire flashes up; all the row of heads is lifted up simultaneously tc watch it; showers of sparks sail aloft inty the blue night; the vault of greenery is fairy spectacle. How the sparks mount and twin kle, and disappear like tropical fire-fies and all the leaves murmur and clapp their hands. Some of the sparks do net go out wesee them flaming in the sky, when the fame of the fire has died down. We'll good night-good night l; more folding of the arms to sleep; more grum- bling about the hardness of a hand bag or the insuficiency of g pocket handkerchief for a pillow-good night. Was that remark ?- something about root stub in the ground sticking into the back.

 It needs but moment for the conversation to become general-abOut roots under tho shoulder stubs in the back, and ridge or which it is impossible for the sleeperte balance the non-elasticity of boughs, the hardness O the ground, the heat, the smoke, the chilly air subjects of remark multiply. The whol' camp is awake and chattering like an ayiary The owl is also awake and the guides who ar, asleep outside make more noise than the owls Water is wanted, and is handed about in dip per. Everybody is yawning; everybody il now determined to go to sleep in good earnest A last good night. There is an appalling si fence. It is interrupted in the most natura way in the world Somebody hoe tho eli ort