Mamma saw that I was supplied with all these things, and on the morning of July 1, I took my place on a railroad train, bound for Rindge. As we approached Rindge, I spied a large mountain-wagon with four horses drawn up alongside the shanty which served as a depot. I was confident that this was for the campers, for it already contained five boys. Ten boys left the train. The divinity student, who was one of the "masters" of the camp, and whom I had already met in the city, welcomed me, and we all took seats in the wagon. Up hill and down we traveled, and the horses seemed to enjoy it as much as we did. Mountain drivers have a way of slowing up their horses going downhill, and sending them up on a gallop. Now the road wound along a narrow ledge beside Monomonock and thence onward through a dense forest, where tall, straight sugar maples raised their leafy crowns high in air; smooth beeches, with round, gray trunks, stood like massive pillars; and great yellow birches, with shaggy, curling bark and gnarled limbs, rose like monarchs above the lesser trees. Finally, a sudden turn in the road brought us face to face with the words, "CAMP HARVARD," in large red letters on a sign suspended from a noble oak. The gate-bars were down and a ride of less than half a mile farther brought us to a pretty grove where clustered the cabins that composed the camp.
ARRIVAL OF THE MAIL. (SEE PAGE [610].)
Who has not felt the pleasures of life in the forest? It is quite impossible to put them into words, or to make one who has never experienced them understand what they are.
There is a sense of freedom and freshness every hour. A round of simple, natural toils and amusements fills up each day. The ear soon becomes attuned to the surroundings, and it begins to hear a gentle sound, like the dropping of ceaseless rain. It is the pattering of the minute particles falling from spruce and pine and hemlock, to mingle with decaying roots and underbrush and form the rich, dark forest-mold on which every step falls so softly. Then there is a rustling of leaves, a pattering of quick, light feet, and a red squirrel runs along a fallen trunk, peers at one curiously, and, half in fear, half in audacity, gives its sharp, shrill bark. A little bird which one can not see pierces the air with a slender, long-drawn note. A woodpecker beats his sounding tattoo on a hollow tree, and, growing bolder, comes nearer and nearer, until perhaps he ventures to try the very trunk against which you are leaning.
Everything about the camp was examined by us with great interest. First the cookhouse, where a man was preparing dinner. This cabin contained a range, two long tables, a refrigerator, and a great quantity of cooking utensils. All the dishes, cups, saucers, and platters were of tin and shone like mirrors. Adjoining, was the storehouse, which was the base of table supplies. The sleeping cabin was about fifty feet in length and oblong, with a slanting roof. The upper half of sides and rear were "flaps," swinging on hinges. These were open during the day, but usually closed at night. Above the flaps was an open space of fourteen inches all around, and over this the eaves projected. Cots were ranged about the sides of the cabin, and choice of these was decided by lot. At one end was an open veranda, where the dining-tables stood. Large reflecting lanterns were placed at intervals, and several small lights hung in a row near the entrance.
There were an ample medicine chest and other useful camp features, and over one end of the cabin was a loft for trunks. Fifty feet from the cabin was the beach. The pretty lake showed scarcely a ripple upon its fair surface. It was three miles long and at some points a mile wide, with many coves and inlets. Part of it seemed like a succession of small lakes. Along the shore, were boats in great variety, from the flat-bottomed fishing-boats to the racing gig with its outriggers and delicate lines. The silent hills beyond lifted themselves toward heaven in the glory of enduring strength, while old Monadnock towered aloft as commander over all.
CAMPING OUT ON MOUNT MONADNOCK. (SEE PAGE [611].)
The tooting of a horn summoned us back to headquarters. Trunks were put in place, blankets and the camp toggery brought forth; we exchanged our city clothes for the latter, and life at Camp Harvard began. Consulting the bulletin, I found myself assigned to duty as "table-boy," with one of the fellows who came up on the train as my associate. It was new work for me, but one of the masters took hold with us. The table was soon set and a steaming hot dinner was brought from the cookhouse. Grace was said by one of the masters, the company all standing with bare heads; then caps were resumed and hungry appetites began to be appeased. Great milk-cans, each holding ten quarts, were brought up from the icehouse. The supply of bread, vegetables, or meat needed constant replenishing. When dinner was over and the table had been cleared and the floor swept, my duties ceased until supper-time. The camp work was done by detachments of boys whose assignments varied with each day. A bulletin containing the assignments for the following day was posted each evening, so that every boy knew in advance what was required of him. All campers, masters included, shared the daily labors. The plan succeeded admirably. Each boy grew to be particular in the discharge of his duties, for neglect was seen to be a boomerang. For instance, if the boy whose special care happened to be drinking-water, failed to keep up a fresh supply, the other fellows who had to suffer for his shortcomings made life a burden to him; and so the whole camp acted as a sort of police force to keep each member up to the mark. This arrangement transferred much responsibility from the masters to the boys themselves, and a sense of responsibility is a good thing for anybody.