CAMPIN' OUT
_A Bit of Family Correspondence_
Camp Roosevelt, September 5th.
_Dear Daddy_: I promised to write every day, if I could, while we are onour vacation; so here goes: My, but we had a hard time getting out here.Say, Dad, did you ever pack a burro? Haven't they got the slipperiestbacks? Our pack turned over about twenty times and scattered the stuffall over the country. The sugar spilled out of the bag and wasted. Billysays that don't matter, though, for we can use molasses in our coffee,like the miners up in Alaska.
"_Say, Dad, did you ever pack a burro_"]
He kept running into all the open gates along the road (the burro, notBilly). The way he tramped up some of the gardens was awful. Billy gotso mad he wouldn't chase him out any more, 'cause once they set a dog onto him as he was chasing the burro out of a frontyard.
Billy says burros is the curiest things ever.
We tried leading him (the burro, not Billy), but he wouldn't lead asingle step. He ran away last night. Billy hopes he never comes backagain.
We are camped under a big fir tree, with branches that come down to theground just like an umbrella. The creek is so close to camp that we canhear it tumbling over the rocks all night. I think it's great, but Billysays it's so noisy it keeps him awake. Billy makes me tired, he does;for it takes Jack and me half an hour to wake him up in the morning tobuild the fire. That's his job.
We called it "Camp Roosevelt." Billy wanted to name it "Camp Bryan,"because his father's a democrat, but me and Jack says nothin' doing inthe Bryan name, 'cause this camp's got to have some life to it, and acamp named Roosevelt was sure to have something lively happening all thetime.
We are sure having a fine time here.
Your affectionate son,
DICK.
P. S. Tell mother that tea made in a coffee pot tastes just as good asif it was made in a tea pot. She said it wouldn't.
DICK.
P. S. Pa, did you ever useto sleep with your boots for a pillow out onthe plains? Cause if you did I don't see how you got the kinks out ofyour neck the next day.
DICK.
Camp Roosevelt, September 7th.
_Dear Pa_: My, but the ground's hard when you sleep on it all night. Weall three sleep in one bed, 'cause that gives us more to put under us.I'm sorry for soldiers who have to sleep on one blanket. We toss up tosee who sleeps in the middle, for the blankets are so narrow that theoutside fellow gets the worst of it.
The first night the burro ran off, and next morning Jack had to walk twomiles before he found him. Jack's the horse-wrangler. Isn't that whatyou said they used to call the fellow who hunted up the horses everymorning on the round-ups?
We staked him out the next night (the burro I mean, not Jack) and we allwoke up half scared to death at the worst racket you ever heard in allyour life. And what do you think it was? Nothing at all but thatmiserable burro braying.
Say, Pa, you know that quilt mother let me bring along, the one she saidyou and she had when you first got married? Well, do you s'pose she'dcare if it was tore some? You see, on the way out the burro ran along abarb wire fence and tore it, the quilt I mean. Lots of the stuffing cameout, but it don't show if you turn the tore place down.
This morning I woke up most froze, 'cause Billy crowded me clear off thebed and out on to the ground. It's sure great to sleep out of doors andsee the stars and things. We put a hair rope in the foot of the bed lastnight. Gee, but Jack jumped high when his bare feet hit it. He thoughtit was a tarantula.
My, I wish we could stay here a year.
Lovingly,
DICK.
P. S. The little red ants got into our condensed milk and spoiled it;leastways there's so many ants we can't separate the ants from themilk. Billy left the hole in the top of the can open.
Camp Roosevelt, September 9th.
_Dear Pa_: You know Billy's dog Spot? Well, Billy said there was awildcat about camp, 'cause he saw the tracks. So I went down to a housebelow on the creek and borrowed a steel trap they had. It was a big onewith sharp teeth on the jaws.
I wanted to set it on the ground, but Billy he says, "No, sir; set it onthe log acrost the creek, 'cause the cat would walk on the log andcouldn't help getting caught.
Besides, he said if we set it on the log and fastened it, when thewildcat got caught he'd fall off into the creek and get drownded andthen we wouldn't have to kill him. Billy says that's the way trapperscatch mushrats, so they can't eat their feet off, when they get caught,and get away.
Well, sir, we set the trap and tied Spot up so he wouldn't get into it.
In the night we heard the awfulest racket ever was and the biggestsplashing going on in the water. It even woke Billy up, and that's goingsome, as Uncle Tom says.
It was 'most daylight and I sat up in bed, and there in the water wassomething making a dreadful fuss. Billy he looks at it a minute andsays: "Why, it's Spot. Who let him loose?" Then we all jumped up, andsure enough there was poor old Spot in the trap by one front-foot. Thechain to the trap was just long enough so he didn't drown, but washanging in the water by one leg.
Billy, it being his dog, crawled out on the log, unfastened the chainand tried to pull Spot up. Some way he lost his balance and fell intothe creek right on top of the dog. Billy was real mad 'cause me and Jacklaughed so hard we couldn't help him a bit, Spot was pretty mad too, forhe grabbed Billy's leg in his teeth and tore a big piece out ofthem--out of Billy's pajamas I mean.
Then Billy let go of the chain, and Spot climbed out of the water on tothe bank and tried to run off with the trap. Billy waded ashore too, andwe just laid down on the ground and hollered like real wild Indians.Billy he said it wasn't any laughing matter and to come and help him getSpot out of the trap.
Say, Dad, did you ever try to open a big steel trap--especially one witha spotted dog in it? Spot wouldn't let us come near him. Billy coaxedand coaxed, but, no siree, he wouldn't do anything but just snap at uslike a sure enough wild cat. Meantime Spot he howls something dreadful.
Then Jack he remembers how once in a storybook a man caught a mad dog,so he runs to the bed and gets a blanket, and while Billy and me talksnice to Spot from in front, Jack he sneaks up behind and throws it overhim. Then Jack grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around the dog's headso he couldn't bite, and we both stood on the trap spring and managed toget it open wide enough so Billy got his foot out (Spot's foot I mean,not Billy's).
Has he come home yet? 'Cause he's gone from here. My goodness, butcamping out's sure fun.
Your loving son,
RICHARD.
P. S. Billy says he don't care anyhow, for Spot had no right to chew therope in two and get loose so as to get into the trap.
DICK.
P. S. The wasps are thick here. One stung Jack on the neck and hehollered awful over it. I made a mud poultice for it like you told meonce you used to do on the plains.
Camp Roosevelt, September some time.
We forget what day it is.
_Dear Pa_: It rained last night real hard. We didn't get much wet, andanyhow Jack says camping out wouldn't be any fun unless you slept in wetblankets once, like the cowboys and soldiers do on the plains. Billysays his Uncle John says a wet bed is a warm bed, but I don't believehim, for we 'most froze.
Pa, what makes the red come out of the quilts where they get rained on?Jack says we belong to the improved order of Red Men now, and if my facelooks as funny as his does, with red streaks all acrost it, I'd beafraid to go home.
You'd ought to see the fun we had drownding out a chipmonk what ran intoa hole in the ground. We packed the water in our hats from the creek.Bimeby, the chipmonk, came out, and I ran after him. He was so wet hecouldn't run fast and I made a grab at him and caught him--no, he caughtme for he bit my finger horrible hard and I couldn't let go, or else hewouldn't, I'm not sure which.
Billy and Jack laughed at me as if it was a good joke, but I couldn'tsee where it was so very funny.
Do chipmonks have hydryfoby? B
illy says he bets they do.
Your son, DICK.
P. S. Jack dropped the box of matches out of his shirt pocket into thecreek, and I had to go to a house about a mile away to get some more.
P. S. You can't make a fire with two sticks of wood, for we tried it foran hour. All we got was blisters on our hands. The Indians must of hadlots of patience if they ever did it.
Camp Roosevelt, Thursday.
The man told us.
_Dear Daddy_: If the burro comes home please shut him up in the lot.He's gone somewhere and we can't find him. Anyhow it don't make muchdifference, for Jack says he'd rather carry his share of the stuff onhis back than bother with a pack burro again. There ain't going to bemuch grub to take back anyhow. The man down the creek gave us some morebacon for what the hogs ate up and said we were welcome to all the greencorn we wanted from his field. We had just corn for supper last nightand breakfast today. The salt all got wet in the rain and melted up, sowe didn't have any, but Billy says lots of times on the plains peopledidn't have any salt for weeks at a time. I'll bet they didn't havenothing but green corn to eat, though.
Please tell mother that I burned a hole in one of my shoes trying to drythem out by the campfire. Also about six inches off the bottom of oneleg of my pajamas. They were hanging on a stick by the fire drying whilewe made the bed. Billy said he smelt cloth a-burning, but we never sawwhere it was till the harm was done.
If mother won't mind I'm sure I won't, for Billy says no soldier orcowboy ever wore pajamas. It was my old pair of shoes anyhow, and theyalways hurt my heel when I walked, so they don't matter either.
Camping out's sure lots of fun.
Your loving son,
DICK.
P. S. The man down the creek says he's going to town pretty soon and ifwe want to ride in with him we can. I wonder what made him think of it.
P. S. A wasp stung me on the lip yesterday. He lit on an ear of cornjust as I went to bite. It don't hurt at all, leastways I'd be ashamedif I made as much fuss about it as Jack did when one bit him. Besides awasp bite on the lip's lots worser than one on the neck--that's what theman down the creek says.
Camp Roosevelt.
_Dear Daddy_: Yesterday we sure had a great time playing "Pirates"without any shirts on--for Billy says pirates always dress thatway--just their trousers on, "naked to the waist," he says.
I was the pirate chief, and Billy was my crew. Jack he was the captainof the vessel and stood on the log to defend the gangway of his ship.
We had cutlasses made out of lath and when we told Jack to surrender hecalled us cowardly pirates and dared us to step on board his ship.
Then we went for him and was having a great old time when Jack's footslipped and he fell off the log into the creek. He got mad at me andBilly, 'cause we laughed at him when he bumped his head on the log ashe went down.
I wisht we could camp out here forever.
DICK.
P. S. What's good for a burnt finger where you burnt it trying to pickthe coffee pot off the fire to keep it from boiling over?
Camp Roosevelt.
_Dear Dad_: If there's a funny smell to this letter it's on account ofthe skunk. The man down the creek says if we bury our clothes in theground for two or three days the smell will all come off.
We are coming home tomorrow in his wagon. We're going to leave the bedclothes hanging in a tree. The man said he wouldn't take them home if hewas us. Anyhow it don't matter much for a spark blew onto the bed oneday and burnt a hole right through them all clear down to the ground.
We put it out when we smelt it. It didn't hurt very much, for we changedthe blankets 'round so the holes didn't all come together, and let inthe cold, and it was all right.
Please kiss Mother for me and tell her most of the red's come off myface and arms.
Billy cried last night 'cause he was homesick and wanted his Ma. He's asissy girl, Billy is. I'll sure be glad to see you and Ma, but Iwouldn't cry about it. Please kiss Ma for me.
Your affectionate son, RICHARD.
P. S. Say, Pa, do skunks out on the plains look like little kittens? Theone we caught sure did.
Tales from the X-bar Horse Camp: The Blue-Roan Outlaw and Other Stories Page 4