LESSON 59.-CAMPING IN THE WOODS OF NEW BRUNSWICK. 1. Towards evening the declining sun warns us to camp. All eyes are turned in search of some suitable spot, and at the first which appears eligible the canoes are run to the shore and lifted carefully out of the water. The spot thus selected may be sometimes a sandy or pebbly little promontory, jutting into the swift stream which runs round it with musical murmur; sometimes a grassy bank bare of trees; sometimes the beach; sometimes, indeed, no natural camping-ground offers itself, and room has to be cleared by the axe in the wood itself. 2. Those who land are immediately surrounded by swarms of biting, buzzing, stinging, humming insects, and the first thing done is, to diminish their annoyance, by making a smoke, if possible, with the dry aromatic bark of the American cedar, to the scent of which they entertain a special aversion. 3. The site for the camp is chosen where the current of air, which always blows up or down the river, may have free access to it; the skins and packs are dragged out of the canoes, and thrown down on the spot, and the party separates to perform their respective shares in constructing the camp. 4. Saplings are soon felled, and a couple of forks erected at such a distance from each other as the number of the party may require, a ridge pole placed on them, and then other saplings laid against this, over which is stretched a piece of sail-cloth, should the party possess such a luxury; if not, or if the weather threatens heavy rain during the night, their labour is prolonged. 5. A spruce tree of some size is selected, a long straight cut made, and the bark stripped off in long rolls, about a foot broad; these rolls are then stretched across the camp instead of the sail-cloth, and a few more poles or stones added to keep them flat. In front the camp is open along its whole length, and here the fire is made. 6. I had always supposed that the camp fire would be round, but this is not the case. It is composed of long logs, some six or eight feet in length, supported on short thick billets, placed transversely by way of dogs to secure a current of air below the fire. It is the duty of one of the party to cut a sufficient supply of long logs to last all night. Another will appear, with his arms full of short spruce boughs. These are for bedding, and on the mode in which they are laid down greatly depends our comfort for the night. 7. Meanwhile, others have put their rods together and are employed in catching fish for supper nearly as fast as they can throw the fly, for the trout are plentiful and unsuspicious in these regions. The faces of some of the fishermen are covered by muslin masks, as a protection against the black flies, now more tormenting than ever, as though conscious that their reign is about to expire. 8. Suddenly, about sunset, their attacks cease, and in a few minutes not one of the swarm that has so constantly hovered round you during the day is to be seen. Intensely relieved, you throw off the few garments you have on, and again plunge into the clear river. Preparations for supper are meanwhile advancing, and you are fully prepared to do it ample justice whatever it may be. 9. We squat upon the ground behind the fire-if we have plates we take them on our knees, if we have none a piece of birch bark supplies the want; and do we wish to clean such a platter all we have to do is to pull off the uppermost layer of bark and lo! a fresh plate is before us. There is hardly any limit to the uses to which birch bark may be put; it makes not only our dishes, but our cups and our candles too. 10. Fried salt pork and biscuit we are sure of, and, unless very unlucky, or on one of the few rivers where fish are not, we may count on a dish of splendid trout, if not salmon, to say nothing of such accidental luxuries as partridge (and the white partridge is excellent), or rabbit; or the more questionable delicacies of boiled beaver or musquash soup. 11. By the time supper is over, night has fallen-the fire throws its bright light into the recesses of the wood, illuminating the red or purple shirted figures, or causing some small tree to stand out all brilliant against a dark background, and producing pretty effects of light and shadow, which I never tire of watching, on the groups of men, and on all surrounding objects. We smoke and roll ourselves in our blankets, and soon the camp sinks into a sound and dreamless sleep.--Hon. Arthur Gordon in Vacation Tourists. LESSON 60.-NEWFOUNDLAND. 1. St. John's, the capital of Newfoundland, is well situated on the northern side of a fine harbour. The entrance to the harbour is through a narrow passage between lofty, rugged cliffs; but within, the haven expands and forms a secure, land-locked, and commodious shelter from the wild waves that lash those inhospitable shores. 2. St. John's is a busy, thriving, money-making place, and the prosperity of the capital of the oldest colony of Great Britain is appreciated by the traveller long before he sets foot on shore; for one side of the harbour smells abominably of dried cod-fish, and the other of seal-oil. 3. The population of the town and out-ports (all the settlements are on the coast) are a splendid set of strong, active, healthy-looking men. Accustomed to the hardships of a severe climate, drawing their livelihood from a teeming but storm-vexed sea, navigating their frail schooners amid tempest, ice, and fog, the Newfoundlanders have become one of the finest seafaring peoples on the face of the globe. 4. The cod-fishery is the principal industry. The fish, having been dried on stages erected for the purpose on the shores of every bay and inlet of the island, are brought to the merchants' wharves at St. John's. There they are sorted into three or four piles according to their quality. 5 Boys throw the fish into casks, piling them a foot or so above the brim, mount on the top, and having danced a war-dance upon them in their hob-nailed boots to pack them down, roll them to the presses. 6. The fish are pressed close in the casks, which are handed over to two coopers. In a trice the hoops are driven on, the casks headed up, and trundled down into the hold of some vessel loading for the West Indies or some Mediterranean port. 7. The sealing season lasts five or six weeks from the beginning of March, when the ice from the north sets in towards the eastern coast of the island, bringing with it hundreds of thousands of seals, young and old. 8. Then St. John's wakes up, and the whole island is in a bustle. Steamers, and sailing craft of all kinds and sizes, issuing from every bay, start out to look for the ice. The ships, crowded with as many men as they can hold, make two trips of a fortnight each. 9. The first trip is devoted to the capture of the young seals, at that time only a few weeks old, and the second to the destruction of the full-grown animals. The latter are shot, the former are knocked on the head with clubs. 10. As soon as the ice is reached, the men scatter about the field, jumping from block to block of loose ice, tumbling into holes and scrambling out again, wild with excitement in their search for seals. 11. Each man acts for himself: when he has killed a seal, he stops but a minute to whip off the skin with the blubber (or underlying fat) attached, and then off again to another seal till he has got as many as he can drag, when he returns, towing his load behind him to the ship. 12. These seals are valuable only for the oil obtained from the fat, and for their skins which are tanned into shoe-leather. They do not produce the pelt which, when plucked and dyed, is worked up into those lovely sealskin jackets which are as costly to the purse as they are delightful to the eye. 13. The number of seals caught in this way is as many as half-a-million in a season, and the business employs 10,000 men.-Earl of Dunraven. AUSTRALIA. LESSON 61.--EXTENT AND COASTS. 1. Australia, or the Southern Land, is a large island situated between the Indian and Pacific Oceans. It is south of the equator, and numerous islands lie like stepping stones between it and south-eastern Asia. In extent of surface it almost equals Europe. 2. The greatest length of the island is east and west, |