One Of The Enlisted Men Prepared Dinner For Us, And Fried The Trout In
Olive Oil, The Most Perfect Way Of Cooking Mountain Trout In Camp.
They Were Delicious - So Fresh From The Icy Water That None Of Their
Delicate Flavor Had Been Lost, And Were Crisp And Hot.
We had cups of
steaming coffee and all sorts of nice things from the boxes we had
brought from the post.
A flat boulder made a grand table for us, and
of course each one had his little camp stool to sit upon. Altogether
the dinner was a success, the best part of it being, perhaps, the
exhilarating mountain air that gave us such fine appetites, and a keen
appreciation of everything ludicrous.
While we were fishing, our tents had been arranged for us in real
soldier fashion. Great bunches of long grass had been piled up on each
side underneath the little mattresses, which raised the beds from the
ground and made them soft and springy. Those "A" tents are very small
and low, and it is impossible to stand up in one except in the center
under the ridgepole, for the canvas is stretched from the ridgepole to
the ground, so the only walls are back and front, where there is an
opening. I had never been in one before and was rather appalled at its
limitations, and neither had I ever slept on the ground before, but I
had gone prepared for a rough outing. Besides, I knew that everything
possible had been done to make Mrs. Stokes and me comfortable.
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