hes, washed his pans, spoons
and hands, and in a twinkle was slicing up some bacon and calf's liver,
which he placed in a frying pan near the bread oven.

Bright tin cups, plates, knives, forks and spoons were handed around and
the "folks" instructed to "get your places near the grub pile." A bucket
of cold brook water stood handy by. Jack opened a can of peas, which
were soon sizzling in a double bottomed stewpan. A round wooden box was
marked "Oleo"--but no one, except Jack, knew it to be otherwise than
"best Elgin butter."

Into another frying pan Jack put some of the butter, and when it was
good and hot added half a dozen brook trout that also had escaped the
notice of the now hungry onlookers. The scent of savory viands nearly
precipitated a riot.

"Supper!" called Jack.

"Why, you don't know whether those biscuits are burned to death or raw,"
said Hazel. "Look at him settle that coffee with cold water. Where's an
egg?"

Jack lifted the cover off the oven and a cloud of steam rose up and
wafted away, then he set the skillet in the center of the party, the
fish beside the bread and the bacon near at hand; peas came along and
Hazel picked up a lightly browned, rich, creamy biscuit, breaking it in
two and adding a dab of butter, took a bite, smacked her lips and said
"More." The verdict was unanimous.

The routine of camp life is not a dull one; new and varied episodes
follow each other in rapid order while on the trail. The informal
mannerisms of camp life become contagious and an irresistible impulse
takes possession of the most conservative to break away from
conventionalities. Bantering persiflage bubbles in everyone, and good
natured raillery adds zest to all phases of the experience, whether it
rains or shines.

No sooner had Jack straightened up his kitchen than he inspected the
disposition of the horses, seeing that each one had as good a spot to
crop grass as was obtainable. Then the beds. "Put some more of those
second growth pine boughs under that bunch of blankets and it will be
more like a good curled hair mattress, to which I presume Miss Asquith
is accustomed; dig a trench all around each tent; it may rain before
morning and this side hill will be a running river if it does; spread
that wagon sheet over the saddles and 'commissary' before you turn in;
we will want to start about eight o'clock; you may sleep until six."
Thus he gave his instructions to the hustlers.

After a little chat, as th