THE JOY OF CAMPING OUT
To tell the truth, none of them showed any signs of disappointment
because the labor of the day was done. It was no child’s play, urging
the canoes against the volume of water the flowed down the Manistique
on the occasion of their voyage. And as they had come out for fun,
and not to earn a living with the paddle, the boys knew when they had
enough.
So, after bringing the two boats ashore, they drew them partly out of
the water at a place that seemed to have been just designed for that
very purpose by a kind Nature, as the beach was shelving, and sandy
too, for a wonder.
It was quickly decided just where the tent should be erected. There
were a few general rules governing this part of the daily programme,
which all of them knew by heart. First of all, it was necessary to
select ground that was not on the dead level, so that in case of a rain
during the night, the inmates of the tent would not find themselves
knee-deep in a flood. And with those clouds hovering in the southwest,
they felt it wise to make assurance in this respect doubly sure on this
particular night.
Then the camp must be pitched away from any sort of swampy patch,
which could not only breed mosquitoes by myriads, but prove malarial
as well. And having an eye to the picturesque, the boys always saw to
it that they could arrange the front of the tent toward the water. It
was so pleasant to look out, and see the little waves dancing in the
moonlight, as well as hear the musical gurgle so dear to the hearts of
all those who love the great Outdoors.
And last, but not least, the tent must be within a reasonable distance
of the two canoes. There was no particular reason to suspect that
any damage might happen to the craft, either from accident, or the
malicious designs of evil-minded persons; but since they must depend
solely on the mosquito boats, as they are often called, to carry them
over the course they had charted out, and the walking was not at all to
their liking, it behooved Teddy and his camp mates to keep an eye on
them during the periods of their resting, between sunset and dawn.
Each one of the three had his regular duties to perform. While these
were sometimes changed around, so that things might not become too
monotonous, still, as a rule, Teddy and Dolph saw to erecting the tent,
while Amos lugged the plunder from the canoes, packing it into camp,
and after that started a fire.
Amos dearly loved a fire. He seemed to be one of those boys who can
sit for perhaps a solid hour, staring into the snapping blaze, with a
rapt look on his face; just as though he saw pictures there that gave
him infinite satisfaction. Who has not enjoyed this pleasure to some
extent, while surrounded by the primitive forest; unless you have, you
do not know one half the joy of living?
And after the fire was burning briskly, Amos was ready to attend to
almost any thing that chanced to come along. If either of the other
boys happened to be fishing he wanted to prepare the catch as it was
brought in; so that sometimes Dolph used to declare that the trout
flopped right from the water into the frying-pan; the span of their
existence between the two was so brief.
But tonight they did not think of fishing, though Dolph cast a wistful
eye along the brink of the river, and mentally noted several likely
spots which he meant to try in the morning, if the fates allowed. But
with those threatening clouds spurring them on, it was decided that
they had better get supper over with as soon as possible.
“No telling,” Teddy had remarked, with a grin, “but what we’re in for
a stormy night. I wouldn’t be surprised to find the lot of us holding
on to the guy ropes of this tent around midnight, like all get-out, to
keep the bally thing from kiting up in the trees. Then again, there may
be no wind, no rain, nothing at all. You never can tell. A fellow has
just got to be _always prepared_ when he’s camping out; or sometime
he’ll get caught napping, and have a healthy old time hustling to save
his chattels.”
Amos knew how to cook, for he had filled that position, or rather as
an assistant, in a logging camp one winter. But of course, the rough
fare the husky timber choppers need, differs vastly from such food as
the sons of rich men would be apt to take with them into the woods; and
Amos had to learn a few new wrinkles, under the tutelage of the others,
who were experienced hands at such things.
Doubtless the woods boy had never in all his life sniffed coffee that
had the delicious aroma of that high-grade Java; and when it came to
tea, Amos, who had up to this time believed that to be a concoction
only meant for old maids, discovered that a cup of fragrant Ceylon,
made in the only proper way, was simply unequalled as “refresher,”
after a hard day’s work.
This is the way he went about making it; and any boy who cares to get
the best out of things, would do well to remember the simple directions.
It would have been better if the campers had possessed a teapot made
of crockery but since that could never be thought of, since it was apt
to be broken, and would weigh too much, they had to use the next best
thing, which was one made of pure aluminum.
Taking this, when the water had come to a boil Amos poured a little in
the tea pot, to heat it, and then dashed it out. Then he put in the
right quantity of tea, which in their case for three was a heaping
teaspoonful; after which he poured a small quantity of the boiling
water over it, and set the pot near the fire, where the tea could
“steep” or “draw.”
Not more than seven to ten minutes later, he filled it with the hot
water, and the tea was ready to use. A very simple formula, but
essential if the best results are wanted.
Of course, some readers might scoff at paying so much attention to
small things; but nearly every lad who has camped out, as so many
thousands of Boy Scouts are now doing for the first time every summer,
discovers that half the pleasure of the outing springs from such
little things being properly done. No efficient and painstaking scout
master will think of allowing his boys to do things in a careless,
happy-go-lucky way. And once they learn the pleasure of knowing the
_right_ methods, there is no fear of them doing anything else. A boy
who knows better will turn up his nose at coffee improperly made, and
shame the careless cook into decent methods.
Besides the tea, the three camp mates had what Teddy called a
“canoeist’s delight.” It was really a stew or “hodge-podge,” being a
mixture of several “left-overs” from previous meals. There was some
corned beef hashed up, some Boston baked beans, a little canned corn,
and a few pieces of bacon, with the balance of the drippings that had
not been thrown away, but preserved in the can the corn had come in.
And with healthy appetites backing them up, the three boys were ready
to agree that never did any dish at the family table satisfy them
one-half so well as this wonderful concoction.
The chances are, that had it been placed before either Teddy or Dolph
when at home, with a snowy tablecloth on the table, and silver and cut
glass around, they would have sniffed at it suspiciously, and ordered
it taken away at once. But it was different here. Their looks were
more than a few times directed toward the largest sized kettle in the
outfit, which had been used to cook the mess, as though their one fear
was whether there would be enough for a third helping all around.
Teddy took considerable pride in that aluminum outfit. He had paid a
round sum for it, too. It was intended for six people, because Teddy
said that there was never any knowing how many might sit around the
campfire on occasion; and being a big-hearted generous fellow, he was
bent on all having enough.
The several kettles all nested in one another, as did the cups; and
with the numerous other things comprising the complete outfit, it made
an appearance to quite take the eye of a camper.
Amos kept them well shined too. He did not like to see the aluminum
discolored, and was forever polishing the kettles and coffee and tea
pots with a preparation that came with the outfit.
“The biggest mistake we made,” declared Teddy, as, having finished
supper, they sat around, helping Amos clean up, “was about Amos here.”
Dolph looked up quickly, a puzzled expression on his face; and even the
woods boy smiled as he waited to hear the other explain; though he knew
only too well that Teddy Overton was too fond of him to say anything
mean.
“How was that?” Dolph asked.
“Why, I should never have thought of allowing Amos to come along
without his fiddle, as he calls his violin,” the lumberman’s son said.
“He thought it might be in the way in the canoe; but I know he misses
it terribly. I’ve seen him sigh when he sits there, looking into the
fire; and every time I’ve known what was on his mind. He found his
fingers just fairly itching to hold that bow of his, and work it across
the strings.”
“Why, I didn’t know Amos played the violin,” remarked Dolph, looking
interested.
“Well, he doesn’t—only the fiddle. They’d laugh to have a fit if you
called it anything but that in a logging camp. And Amos used to be
the most popular boy all through the winter, when the men were out in
the snow woods cutting timber. He had to play for them every single
night. They never seemed to get tired of hearing Money Musk, Arkansaw
Traveler, and all those old pieces. And I tell you, Amos can just make
his fiddle _talk_. He had it along when we spent several weeks in these
pine woods before; and night after night we used to have a regular
musicale by the light of the fire. Why, I’ve seen the little chipmunks
come stealing along, with their ears cocked up, as though they were
taking it all in; and one night a raccoon fell off the branch of a
tree, nearly on top of Amos. I always said that the music had made him
dizzy, it was so sweet. But there, let’s drop that subject. It makes
Amos homesick, I guess, to remember how he won’t be able to touch a
fiddle again for a whole month.”
An hour later, and the three boys were taking things easy. The storm
clouds did not seem to have crept up any farther that they could see,
and as yet it was a question no one could decide, as to whether they
would be visited by a storm during the night, or not.
Amos has been getting another armful of wood to throw down near the
fire, so they would have plenty, if it was thought advisable to keep
the blaze going, for frequently these Michigan summer nights feel
pretty cool around about two o’clock; and it is nice, if one comes out
to take a look at the weather, to see a cheery fire going.
With the wood still in his arms, the lumber camp boy bent his head in
passing the others; and in a low but very distinct voice uttered a few
sentences that gave both Teddy and Dolph a thrill:
“Don’t jump, or show any signs of excitement, either of you,” was what
Amos said in a whisper, “but there’s a man hiding behind those bushes
just above our boats; I saw him duck down as I came nearer; but I never
let on the least bit that I’d glimpsed him. Better just change your
sets a little, so as to be nearer your guns, boys. And when you’re
ready, Teddy, give the word, so I c’n grab up mine. I don’t like the
looks of things, that’s what.”
All of this Amos muttered while he was rustling the wood, and laying it
down piece by piece, in a heap near the fire.