and foaming over rocks that showed their grinding teeth at us.

Sunset now streamed after us down the river. The arbor-vitae along the
banks marked tracery more delicate than any ever wrought by deftest
craftsman in western window of an antique fane. Brighter and richer than
any tints that ever poured through painted oriel flowed the glories of
sunset. Dear, pensive glooms of nightfall drooped from the zenith slowly
down, narrowing twilight to a belt of dying flame. We were aware of the
ever fresh surprise of starlight: the young stars were born again.

Sweet is the charm of starlit sailing where no danger is. And in days
when the Munki Mannakens were foes of the pale-face, one might dash down
rapids by night in the hurry of escape. Now the danger was before, not
pursuing. We must camp before we were hurried into the first "rips"
of the stream, and before night made bush-ranging and camp-duties
difficult.

But these beautiful thickets of birch and alder along the bank, how to
get through them? We must spy out an entrance. Spots lovely and damp,
circles of ferny grass beneath elms offered themselves. At last, as to
patience always, appeared the place of wisest choice. A little stream,
the Ragmuff, entered the Penobscot. "Why Ragmuff?" thought we, insulted.
Just below its mouth two spruces were _propylaea_ to a little glade, our
very spot. We landed. Some hunters had once been there. A skeleton lodge
and frame of poles for drying moose-hides remained.

Like skilful campaigners, we at once distributed ourselves over our
work. Cancut wielded the axe; I the match-box; Iglesias the _batterie de
cuisine_. Ragmuff drifted one troutling and sundry chubby chub down
to nip our hooks. We re-roofed our camp with its old covering of
hemlock-bark, spreading over a light tent-cover we had provided. The
last glow of twilight dulled away; monitory mists hid the stars.

Iglesias, as _chef_, with his two _marmitons_, had, meanwhile, been
preparing supper. It was dark when he, the colorist, saw that fire with
delicate touches of its fine brushes had painted all our viands to
perfection. Then, with the same fire stirred to illumination, and
dashing masterly glows upon landscape and figures, the trio partook of
the supper and named it sublime.

Here follows the _carte_ of the Restaurant Ragmuff,--woodland fare, a
banquet simple, but elegant:--

POISSON.

Truite. Meunier.

ENTREES.

Porc frit au naturel.
Cotelettes d'E