des of our bunks, when we sit at table. When at our
ease and our tobacco, we either recline in our bunks, or sit on the edge
of the floor opening into the chimney-place.

The two curious contrivances alluded to are styled armchairs by their
manufacturers, and somewhat remarkable objects they are. The Saint's is
made out of the section of a cask set up on four legs. It possesses a
fifth leg, or outrigger at the back, and has cushions of flour-bags,
stuffed with turkey's feathers. The owner doubtless finds it to his
mind, but he has to guard against leaning to either side, or collapse is
always the consequence.

The other armchair is the Little'un's. Now, this young gentleman, though
the most youthful of our party, is by no means the least. He is, in
fact, six feet six inches in height, and is of broad and muscular build.
His private seat is therefore of the ponderous kind. At first sight it
would seem to be of immense strength, since it is made of heavy stakes,
cut in the adjoining bush. These are abundantly jointed with bars and
bolts of the same solid and substantial kind; the seat and back being
composed of sacking. But, in spite of the apparent power displayed by
this fabrication, disastrous accidents are continually happening. The
Little'un has no inborn genius for joinery.

Sometimes it has happened that, as we sat at a meal, a loud crack would
be heard, some part of his throne would give way, and the Little'un
would disappear from view. Shouts of laughter from the rest. Old
Colonial, in high delight, would proceed to show how cleverly the
Little'un had adapted his armchair to his exact weight; and how it was
unable to support the addition of the great load of victuals which that
individual had unthinkingly stowed away. The Little'un would arise
silent and perplexed; and, by-and-by, we would find him deeply pondering
over the manufacture of his scaffolding, and probably shaping another
small tree with his axe to add to it.

The most important items of the shanty's plenishing are the bunks and
beds. The former are made in this way, having been constructed by the
carpenter at the township. A simple folding trestle at head and foot
supports two parallel bars. Across these is stretched and nailed stout
canvas. Each of us has one of these bedsteads, which are very convenient
in the limited dimensions of our shanty, for they can be folded and
stacked out of the way when necessary.

The beds themselves are curiously