As we entered the clump of trees, my eye was caught by a small chicken coop with slatted bottom, which was suspended beneath the rear end of the wagon bed. Our guide stepped forward and swung open the door. Three fine young Plymouth Rock hens, who had been eagerly awaiting this opportunity, fluttered out and began to peck and scratch vigorously. “This simple arrangement insures a few fresh eggs for emergencies,” Mr. Adams informed me. “These hens are very tame and are quite accustomed to this mode of living. Now and then, as to-day, we get a couple of fryers, and sometimes a nice fat hen for roasting, which we confine in the rear compartment until wanted. Thus we are seldom at a loss for fresh meat. Just step around to the front and I’ll show you the cooking arrangements.” At the front of the wagon we found the woman actively engaged in preparations for supper. Our acquaintance informed her of our situation in a few crisp sentences and without waiting for a formal introduction she took up the task of enlightening us in the art of scientific camping. She directed our attention to the dashboard which pivoted in the centre on a horizontal axis to form a support or worktable that could be used for dining purposes if necessary. A hood, which telescoped under the front edge of the wagon cover, could be pushed forward on such occasions, and by rolling down the curtains, perfect protection could be secured from wind and rain. As we gazed, the young man brought a pail of fresh water and set it in a metal ring which was clamped to a front upright. The back of the seat was made in two parts, and to the back of the left-hand one—formed of sheet metal—a gasoline stove with oven attachment was fastened. The upright back revolved in such a way that the stove faced the rear when the seat was occupied, but could be turned to the front for cooking purposes. The housewife—camp-wife would be the better term in this case—could sit in comfort in the right-hand seat and secure everything required from the racks or from the boxes on the bed of the wagon. With competent hands she opened the oven door and withdrew a pan of cookies which flooded the air with a rich, spicy odour. These she replaced with a pan of biscuits, then produced a large skillet of broiling chicken from beneath the spreading burner which heated the oven. A few deft touches and the savoury pieces went back for further browning. “I generally make most of my preparations while travelling,” she informed me. “The mules are so gentle that they amble along without much driving and everything is so convenient that I can cook without stepping from the rig. Even the water is handy.” She pointed to a heavy canvas bag, beaded with moisture, which hung on the outside wall. The side walls within were fitted with ingenious racks like a kitchen cabinet, and a little to the rear and close against the roof I discerned the wire springs of a suspended bed.