IV
A FISHERMAN'S PARADISE
After our first view of the lake, the instant decision was to make a
permanent camp there for a few days. And this we did. Tents were put up
for the luxurious-minded, three of them. Mine was erected over me, when,
as I had pre-determined, I had found a place where I could lie
comfortably. The men belonging to the outfit, of course, slept under the
stars. A packer, a guide, or the cook with an outfit like ours has,
outside of such clothing as he wears or carries rolled in his blankets,
but one possession--and that is his tarp bed. With such a bed, a can of
tomatoes, and a gun, it is said that a cow-puncher can go anywhere.
Once or twice I was awake in the morning before the cook's loud call of
"Come and get it!" brought us from our tents. I never ceased to view
with interest this line of tarp beds, each with its sleeping occupant,
his hat on the ground beside him, ready, when the call came, to sit up
blinking in the sunlight, put on his hat, crawl out, and be ready for
the day.
The boats had traveled well. The next morning, after a breakfast of ham
and eggs, fried potatoes, coffee, and saddle-bags, we were ready to try
them out.
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