The Associate Hermits. Frank Richard Stockton

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СКАЧАТЬ themselves in these terms; he simply thought that the guide was a slipshod sort of a fellow.

      “Phil,” said Mr. Sadler, “here is the gentleman you are going to take into camp.”

      “Glad to see him,” said Matlack; “hope he’ll like it.”

      “And I want to say to you, Phil,” continued Sadler, “right before him, that he is a first-class man for you to have in charge. I don’t believe you ever had a better one. He’s a city man, and it’s my opinion he don’t know one thing about hunting, fishing, making a camp-fire, or even digging bait. I don’t suppose he ever spent a night outside of a house, and doesn’t know any more about the weather than he does about planting cabbages. He’s just clean, bright, and empty, like a new peach-basket. What you tell him he’ll know, and what you ask him to do he’ll do, and if you want a better man than that to take into camp, you want too much. That’s all I’ve got to say.”

      Matlack looked at Peter Sadler and then at Mr. Archibald, who was leaning back in his chair, his bright eyes twinkling.

      “How did you find out all that about him?” he asked.

      “Humph!” exclaimed Peter Sadler. “Don’t you suppose I can read a man’s character when I’ve had a good chance at him? Now how about the stores—have they all gone on?”

      “They were sent out early this mornin’,” said Matlack, “and we can start as soon as the folks are ready.”

CHAPTER V

       Table of Contents

CAMP ROB

       Table of Contents

      It was early in the afternoon when the Archibald party took up the line of march for Camp Rob. The two ladies, supplied by Mrs. Sadler with coarse riding-skirts, sat each upon a farm-horse, and Mr. Archibald held the bridle of the one that carried his wife. Matlack and Martin Sanders, the young man who was to assist him, led the way, while a led horse, loaded with the personal baggage of the travellers, brought up the rear.

      Their way wound through a forest over a wood road, very rough and barely wide enough for the passage of a cart. The road was solemn and still, except where, here and there, an open space allowed the sunlight to play upon a few scattered wild flowers and brighten the sombre tints of the undergrowth.

      After a ride which seemed a long one to the ladies, who wished they had attired themselves in walking-costume, the road and the forest suddenly came to an end, and before them stretched out the waters of a small lake. Camp Rob was not far from the head of the lake, and for some distance above and below the forest stood back from the water’s edge. In the shade of a great oak tree there stood a small log-house, rude enough to look at, but moderately comfortable within, and from this house to the shore a wide space was cleared of bushes and undergrowth.

      The lake was narrow in proportion to its length, which was about two miles, and on the other side the forest looked like a solid wall of green reflected in the water beneath. Even Mrs. Archibald, whose aching back began to have an effect upon her disposition, was delighted with the beauty of the scene, which delight endured until she had descended from her horse and entered the log-cabin in which she was to dwell for a time.

      It is not necessary to describe the house, nor is it necessary to dive into the depths of Mrs. Archibald’s mind as she gazed about her, passing silently from room to room of the little house. She was a good woman, and she had made up her mind that she would not be a millstone around the necks of her companions. Many people have been happy in camps, and, indeed, camp-life has become one of the features of our higher civilization, and this, from what she had heard, must be a camp above the common. So, think what she might, she determined to make no open complaint. If it were possible for her to be happy here, she would be happy.

      As for Margery, no determination was needed in her case. Everything was better than she had expected to find it. The cabin, with the bark on almost everything, even the furniture, was just what a house in the woods ought to be; and when she entered the little studio, which was nearer allied to the original forest than any other part of the house, she declared that that must be her room, and that living there she would feel almost like a dryad in an oak.

      “You’ve camped out before?” said Phil Matlack to Mr. Archibald, as he was taking a survey of the scene.

      “Oh yes,” said the other, “I’ve been out a few days at a time with fishing-parties, but we never had such a fine camp as this—so well located and such good accommodations.”

      “You are a fisherman, then?” said the guide.

      “Yes. I am very fond of it. I’ve fished ever since I was a boy, and know a good deal about bait, in spite of what Mr. Sadler said.”

      “I had an idea of that sort,” remarked Phil, “but it ain’t no use to contradict Peter. It helps keep up his spirits for him to think he can read the characters of people just as quick as he can aim a rifle. And it’s a mighty important thing to keep Peter’s spirits up. If Peter’s spirits was to go down, things round here would flatten out worse than a rotten punkin when it’s dropped.”

      It did not take long to establish the new-comers in their woodland quarters. The tent for the two men, which had arrived in the morning, was pitched not far from the cabin, and then Matlack and Martin went to work to prepare supper. The dining-room in pleasant weather was the small space in front of the house, where there was a table made of a wide board supported by stakes, with a low and narrow board on each side, also resting on stakes, and forming seats.

      The supper was a better one and better served than any of the party had expected. The camp outfit included table-cloths, and even napkins.

      “To-morrow,” said Matlack, as he brought a dish of hot and savory broiled ham, “after Mr. Archibald gets to work, we’ll have some fish.”

      Mrs. Archibald had been a little fearful that under these primitive conditions the two men might expect to sit at the table with them, but she need have had no such fears. Matlack and Martin cooked and waited with a skill and deftness which would have surprised any one who did not reflect that this was as much their business as hunting or woodcraft.

      After supper a camp-fire was built at a safe distance from the house, for although the evening air was but slightly cool, a camp without a camp-fire would not be a camp. The party ranged themselves around it, Mrs. Archibald on a rug brought from the cabin, and her husband and Margery on the ground. Mr. Archibald lighted his pipe, the fire lighted the trees and the lake, and joy inexpressible lighted the heart of Margery.

      “If I could smoke a pipe,” said she, “and get Mr. Matlack to come here and tell me how he killed a man, I should be perfectly happy.”

      That night Mrs. Archibald lay awake on her straw mattress. Absolute darkness was about her, but through the open window she could see, over the tops of the trees on the other side of the lake, one little star.

      “If I could get any comfort out of that little star,” thought the good lady, “I would do it; but I can’t do it, and there is nothing else to comfort me.”

      On the other side of the room, on another straw mattress, СКАЧАТЬ