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Aiuthor of *'Our Southern Highlanders," "Sporting 
Firearms," "Camp Cookery," etc. 


Two Volumes in One 

Vol. I 

Nm fork 



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New Edition 
Two Volumes in One, 1921 
Eighteenth Printing, 1957 

All rights reserved — no part of this book may be 
reproduced in any form without permission m writing 
from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes 
to quote brief passages in connection with a review 
written for inclusion in magazine or newspaper. 

Printed m the United States of America 





7'p- 629()0 


The present work is based upon my Book of 
Camping and Woodcraft, which appeared in igo6. 
All of the original material here retained has been 
revised, and so much new matter has been added 
that this is virtually a new work, filling two 
volumes instead of one. 

My first book was intended as a pocket manual 
for those who travel where there are no roads and 
who perforce must go light. I took little thought 
of the fast-growing multitude who go to more ac- 
cessible places and camp out just for the pleasure 
and healthfulness of open-air life. It had seemed 
to me that outfitting a party for fixed camp w^ithiri 
reach of wagons was so simple that nobody would 
want advice about it. But I have learned that 
such matters are not so easy to the multitude as I 
had assumed; and there are, to be sure, " wrinkles," 
plenty of them, in equipping and managing sta- 
tionary camps that save trouble, annoyance, or ex- 
pense. Consequently I am adding several chap- 
ters expressly for that class of campers, and I treat 
the matter of outfitting much more fully than be- 

It is not to be supposed that experienced travelers 
w^ill agree with me all around in matters of equip- 
ment. Every old camper has his own notions about 
such things, and all of us are apt to be a bit dog- 
matic. As Richard Harding Davis says, " The 
same article that one declares is the most essential 
to his comfort, health, and happiness is the very 
first thing that another will throw into the trail. 
A man's outfit is a matter which seems to touch his 
private honor. I have heard veterans sitting 


around a camp-fire proclaim the superiority of their 
kits with a jealousy, loyalty, and enthusiasm they 
would not exhibit for the flesh of their flesh and 
the bone of their bone. On a campaign you may 
attack a man's courage, the flag he serves, the news- 
paper for which he works, his intelligence, or his 
camp manners, and he will Ignore you ; but If you 
criticise his patent water-bottle he will fall upon 
you with both fists." 

Yet all of us who spend much time in the woods 
are keen to learn about the other fellow's " kinks." 
And field equipment is a most excellent hobby to 
amuse one during the shut-in season. I know 
nothing else that so restores the buoyant optimism 
of youth as overhauling one's kit and planning trips 
for the next vacation. Solomon himself knew the 
heart of man no better than that fine old sportsman 
who said to me *' It isn't the fellow who's catching 
lots of fish and shooting plenty of game that's hav- 
ing the good time: it's the chap who's getting ready 
to do it." 

I must thank the public for the favor It showed 
my Book of Camping and Woodcraft, which passed, 
with slight revision, through seven editions in ten 
years. For a long time I have wished to expand the 
work and bring it up to date. As there is a well- 
defined boundary between the two subjects of camp- 
ing and woodcraft. It has seemed best to devote a 
separate volume to each. The first of these is here 
offered, to be followed as soon as practicable by the 
other, which will deal chiefly with such shifts and 
expedients as are learned or practised in the wilder- 
ness itself, where we have nothing to choose from 
but the raw materials that lie around us. 

Acknowledgments are due to the D. T. Aber- 
cromble Co., New York, the Abercromble & Fitch 
Co., New York, and the New York Sporting Goods 
Co., for permission to reproduce certain illustrations 
of tents and other equipment. 

This book had its origin in a series of articles 


under the same title that I contributed, in 1904- 
1906, to the magazine Field and Stream. Other 
sections have been published, in whole or in part, in 
Sports Afield, Recreation, Forest and Strs'am, and 
Outing. A great deal of the work here appears for 
the first time. 

Many of these pages were written in the wilder- 
ness, where there were abundant facilities for test- 
ing the value of suggestions that were outside the 
range of my previous experience. In this connec- 
tion I must acknowledge indebtedness to a scrap- 
book full of notes and clippings from sportsmen's 
journals which was one of the most valued tomes 
in the rather select " library " that graced half a 
soap-box in one corner of my cabin. 

I owe much both to the spirit and the letter of 
that classic in the literature of outdoor life, the lit- 
tle book on Woodcraft, by the late George R. Sears, 
who is best known by his Indian-given title of 
'' Nessmuk." To me, in a peculiar sense, it has 
been rermdium utriusque fortunce; and it is but 
fitting that I should dedicate to the memory of its 
author this pendant to his work. 

Horace Kephart. 
Bryson City, N. C, 
February, 19 16. 



I Vacation Time 17 

II Outfitting 23 

III Tents for Fixed Camps ... 29 

IV Furniture, Tools, and Utensils 

FOR Fixed Camps . . . -53 

V Tents for Shifting Camps . . 68 

VI Types of Light Tents , . . 76 

VII Light Camp Equipment ^ . . 109 

VIII Camp Bedding 124 

IX Clothing . . . . •■ . .138 

X Personal Kits 164 

XI Provisions 178 

XII Camp Making 208 

XIII The Camp-fire 225 

XIV Pests of the Woods . . . .241 
XV Dressing and Keeping Game and 

Fish 264 

XVI Camp Cookery — Meats . . . 290 
XVII Camp Cookery — Game . . . 305 
XVIII Camp Cookery — Fish and 

Shellfish 321 

XIX Camp Cookery — Cured Meats, 

ETC. — Eggs 332 

XX Camp Cookery — Breadstuffs 

AND Cereals 342 

XXI Camp Cookery — Vegetables — 

Soups 363 

XXII Beverages and Desserts . . .378 

XXIII Cook's Miscellany .... 386 

Index . . -. 395 



Wall Tent with Fly ",9 

Extension Fly 36 

Tropica' Tent 37 

Bobbinet Window 39 

Mosquito Curtain 39 

Asbestos Pipe Guard 40 

Locating Corner of the Tent 42 

Tent Stake and Guy Rope 43 

U. S. Army Wall Tent with Fly (Officers' Ten:) 4s 

Storm Set 45 

Wall Tent on Shears with Guy Frame ... 46 

Lashing for Shear Legs 47 

Shear Legs Spread 47 

Magnus Hitch (not apt to slip along a pole) . 47 

Wall Tent with Side Bars 48 

Trenching Tent 49 

Tent Floor 50 

Guys Weighted with Log 51 

Guy Rope Fastened to Fagot to Be Burled i 1 

Ground 51 

Narrow Cot 54 

Compact Cot 54 

Telescoping Cot 54 

Cot with Mosquito Screen 54 

Folding Chair 56 

Folding Arm Chair 56 

Roll-up Table 56 

Roll-up Table Top 56 

Table with Shelf 57 

Compact Table 57 

Folding Shelves 57 

Wall Pocket 57 

Small Camp Stove 61 

Stove Packed 61 



Stove for Large Wood 6i 

Field Range 62 

Field Range (packed) 62 

Dutch Oven 64 

U. S. A. Conical Tent 78 

Sibley Tent Stoves 79 

Miner's Tent 83 

Frazer Tent 8» 

Marquee 83 

George Tent 84 

Layout of George Tent 85 

Royce Tent . 87 

Royce Tent 89 

Royce Tent 90 

Wedge Tent, Outside Ridge Rope 92 

Pegging Bottom of Tent 92 

Side Parrels ... . 93 

Whymper Alpine Tent 95 

Hudson Bay Tent 95 

Ross Alpine Tent 96 

Separable Shelter Tent 96 

Shelter half with Wall 97 

Tarpaulin Tent 98 

Baker Tent 99 

Camp-fire Tent 100 

Canoe Tent with Pole 102 

Canoe Tent with Ridge 102 

Compac Tent 104 

Snow Tent 105 

Explorer's Tent 106 

Little Giant Scale 115 

Cooking Pot 119 

Pot Chain 119 

Coffee Pot 119 

Miner's Coffee Pot 119 

Cup 120 

Miller Frying Pan 120 

Reflector (angular back) 121 

Reflector (fiat back) 121 

lR^&actr>r rfolded in case) 121 



Sheet Steel Oven 122 

D. T. Abercrombie Sleeping Bag 130 

Flala Sleeping Bag 131 

U. S. A. Regulation Sleeping Bag 136 

Shattuck Camp Roll 136 

Comfort Sleeping Pocket 137 

Combination Bed Roll, Stretcher Bed and Bed Tick . 137 

Combination as Stretcher Bed 137 

Combination as Hammock 137 

Combination as Bed Roll 137 

Neckerchief Folded for Hood 143 

Neckerchief Hood Adjusted 143 

U. So Army Canvas Legging 145 

Canvas Strap Puttee 145 

Woolen Spiral Puttee 145 

True Bow Knot 151 

Reef Knot Formed 151 

Reef Knot Drawn Tight 151 

U. S. Army Shoe 152 

Sole of Army Shoe, Showing Proper Method of 

Placing Hobnails 152 

Soled Moccasin (made over last) 159 

Dunnage Bag 164 

Kit or Provision Pack 164 

Screw Hook Fastening for Box Lid 164 

Hatchet 166 

Sheath Knife 167 

Compass with Course Arrow 169 

Map Case 171 

U. S. A. Dispatch Case 171 

To Fold Triangular Bandage . . . . . . . 175 

Rare Natural Crotch 219 

Common Crotch 219 

To Make a Crutch 219 

Spring Box , 221 

Latrine 223 

Indian Deer Pack . 268 

The Place to Use Your Knife 270 



" So priketh hem Nature in hir corages, — 
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages, 
And palmares for to seken straunge strondes." 

— Canterbury Tales. 

To many a city man there comes a time when the 
o'reat town wearies him. He hates its sights and 
smells and clangor. Every duty is a task and every 
caller is a bore. There come visions of green fields 
and far-rolling hills, of tall forests and cool, swift- 
flowing streams. Pie yearns for the thrill of the 
chase, for the keen-eyed silent stalking; or, rod in 
hand, he would seek that mysterious pool where the 
father of all trout lurks for his lure. 

To be free, unbeholden, irresponsible for tha 
nonce ! 1* ree to go or come at one's own sweet will, 
to tarry where he lists, to do this, or do that, or do 
nothing, as the humor veers; and for the hours, 

"It shall be what o'clock I say it is! " 

Thus basking and sporting in the great clean out-- 
of-doors, one could, for the blessed interval, 

" Forget six counties overhung with smoke, 
Forget the snorting stearr and piston-strokt, 
Forget the spreading of ^he hid'^ous town," 



This instinct for a free life In the open is as 
natural and wholesome as the gratification of hunger 
and thirst and love, it is Nature's recall to the 
simple mode of existence that she Intended us for* 

Our modern life in cities is an abrupt and violent 
change from what the race has been bred to these 
many thousands of years. We come from a line 
of forebears who, back to a far-distant past, were 
hunters in the forest, herdsmen on the plains, shep- 
herds In the hills, tillers of the soil, or fishermen or 
sailors at sea; and however adaptive the human 
mind may be, these human bodies of ours still stub- 
bornly insist on obeying the same laws that Father 
Adam's did. 

There are soothsayers who forecast that, in the 
course of evolution, we shall conform to what are 
now abnormal and mischievous conditions ; that man 
is the most adaptive of all creatures, accommodating 
himself to greater extremes of temperature and so 
forth than any other of the higher animals; that 
moreover he is constantly inventing machines and 
processes to better his condition, so that we may 
reasonably expect him to make even the crowded city 
a wholesome place of residence, though people dwell 
tier above tier, and our old-fashioned domestic life 
be quite out of the question. 

It may be so. We can fix no bounds to Nature's 
conforming power. She has produced certain verte- 
brates, such as the mud-turtle and the hellbender, 
so eminently adaptive to circumstances that they are 
equally at hr^me whether immersed in air, water, or 
mud. Ana there is the Chinaman, who, being of a 
breed that has been crowded and coerced for thou- 
sands of years, seems to have done away with nerves. 
" He will stand all day in one position without seem- 
ing In the least distressed ; he thrives amidst the most 
unsanitary surroundings; overcrowding and bad air 
are nothing to him ; he does not demand quiet when 
he would sleep, nor even when he Is sick ; he can 
starve to death with supreme complacency." A 


missionary says: " It would be easy to raise in 
China an army of a million men — nay, of ten mil- 
lions — tested by competitive examination as to their 
capacity to go to sleep across three wheelbarrows, 
with head downwards like a spider, mouth wide 
open, and a fly inside." 

Some of our own people seem to get no satisfac^ 
tion out of anything but chasing after dollars with- 
out let-up from year to year, save when they are 
asleep, or in church, or both. We recall a certain 
rich man who boasted that in the eighty-eight years 
of his career he had not once taken a vacation or 
wanted one. Naturally his way was the right way, 
and he proceeded to show it. " What right," asked 
he, " has a clerk to demand or expect pay for two 
weeks' time for which he renders no equivalent? Is 
it not absurd to suppose that a man who can work 
eleven and a half months cannot as wtU work the 
whole year ? The doctors may recommend a change 
of air when he's sick; but why be sick? Sickness is 
an irreparable loss of time." I am not misquoting 
this very rich man: his signed pronouncement lies 
before me — the sorriest thing that ever I saw in 

Seriously, is it good for men and women and chil- 
dren to swarm together in cities and stay there, keep 
staying there, till their instincts are so far perverted 
that they lose all taste for their natural element, the 
wide world out-of-doors? In any case, although 
evolution be a very great and good law, yet is it not 
a trifle slow? How about you and me? Can we 
wait a few thousand years for fulfilment of the wise 
(men's prophecy? We are neither coolies, nor mud- 
turtles, nor those other things with the awful name. 

Granting, then, that one deserves relief now and 
then from the hurry and worry that would age him 
before his prime, why not go in for a complete 
change while you are about it? Why not exorcise 
the devil of business and everything that suggests it? 
The best vacation an over-civilized man can have if 


^o go where he can hunt, capture, and cook his own 
meat, erect his own shelter, do his own chores, and 
so, in some measure, pick up again those lost arts of 
wildcraft that were our heritage through ages past, 
but of which not one modern man in a hundred 
knows anything at all. In cities our tasks are so 
highly specialized, and so many thi \gs are done for 
us by other specialists, that we tend \o become a one- 
handed and one-idead race. The self-dependent life 
of the wilderness nomad brings bodily habits and 
mental processes back to normal, by exercise of 
muscles and lobes that otheiwise might atrophy from 
want of use. 

If one would realize in its perfection his dream of 
peace and freedom from every worldly care» let him 
keep away from summer resorts and even from 
farms; let him camp out; and let it be the real 
thing. There are "' camps " so-called that are not 
camps at all. A rustic cottage furnished with tables 
and chairs and beds brought from town, with rugs 
on the floor and pictures on the walls, with a stove in 
the kitchen and crockery in the pantry, an ice-house 
hard by, and daily delivery of groceries, farm prod- 
ucts, and mails, may be a pleasant place in which to 
spend the summer with one's family and friends; 
but it Is not a camp. Neither is a wilderness club- 
house, built on a game preserve, looked after by a 
caretaker, and supplied during the season with 
servants and the appurtenances of a good hotel. 

A camp proper is a nomad's biding-place. He 
may occupy it for a season, or only for a single night, 
according as the site and its surroundings please or 
do not please the wanderer's whim. If the fish do 
not bite, or the game has moved away, or unpleas- 
ant neighbors should intrude, or if anything else 
goes wrong. It is but an hour's work for him to pull 
up stakes and be off, seeking that particularly good 
place which generally lies beyond the horizon's 

Your thoroughbred camper likes not the atten-. 


lions of a landlord, nor will he suffer himself to be 
rooted to the soil by cares of ownership or lease. It 
is not possession of the land, but of the landscape, 
that he enjoys ; and as fo" that, all the wild parts of 
the earth are his, by a title that carries with it no 
obligation but that he shall not desecrate nor lay 
them waste. 

Houses, to such a one, in summer, are little better 
than cages; fences and walls are his abomination; 
plowed fields are only so many patches cf torn and 
tormented earth. The sleek comeliness of pastures 
is too prim and artificial, domestic cattle have a 
meek and ignoble bearing, fields of grain are 
monotonous to his eyes, which turn for relief to 
some abandoned old-field, overgrown with thicket, 
that still harbors some of the shy children of the 
wild. It is not the clearing but the unfenced wil- 
derness that is the camper's real home. He is 
brother to that good old friend of mine who, in 
gentle satire of our formal gardens and close-cropped 
lawns, was wont to say, " I love the unimproved 
works of God." He likes to wander in the forest 
tasting the raw sweets and pungencies that uncloyed 
palates craved in the childhood of our race. To 

" The shelter of a rock 
Is sweeter than the roofs of all the world." 

The charm of nomadic life Is Its freedom from 
care, its unrestrained liberty of action, and the proud 
self-reliance of one who is absolutely his own mas- 
ter, free to follow his bent in his own way, and 
who cheerfully, in turn, suffers the penalties that 
Nature visits upon him for every slip of mind or 
bungling of his hand. Carrying with him, as he 
does, in a few small bundles, all that he needs to 
provide food and shelter In any land, habited or un- 
inhabited, the camper Is lord of himself and of his 


" Free is the bird in the air, 

And the fish where the river flows; 
Free is the deer in the wood, 

And the gipsy wherever he goes. 

And the gipsy wherever he goes." 

There Is a dash of the gipsy In every one of Uk 
who is worth his salt. 


"By St. Nicholas 
I have a sudden passion for the wild wood — - 
We should be free as air in the wild wood — 
What say you ? Shall we go ? Your hands, your 'Hanrts'! ^ 

— Robin hood. 

In some of our large cities there are professional 
outfitters to whom one can go and say: " So many 
of us wish to spend such a month in such a region, 
hunting and fishing: equip us." The dealer w411 
name a price; you pay it, and leave the rest to him. 
When the time comes he will have the outfit ready 
and packed. It will include everything needed foi 
the trip, well selected and of the best materials. 
When your party reaches the jumping-off place it 
will be met by professional guides and packers, who 
will take you to the best hunting grounds and fish- 
ing waters, and will do all the hard work of pad- 
dling, packing over portages, making camp, chop- 
ping wood, cooking, and cleaning up, besides show- 
ing you where the game and fish are " using," 
and how to get them. In this way a party of city 
men who know nothing of woodcraft can spend a 
season in the woods very comfortably, though get- 
ting little practical knowledge of the wilderness^ 
This is touring, not campaigning. It is expensive; 
but it may be worth the price to such as can afford 
it, and who like that sort of thing. 

But, aside from the expense of this kind of camp- 
ing, it seems to me that whoever takes to the woods 
and waters for recreation should learn how to shifr 



for himself in an emergency. He may employ 
guides and a cook — all that ; but the day of dis- 
aster may come, the outfit may be destroyed, or the 
city man may find himself some day alone, lost in 
the forest, and compelled to meet the forces of 
Nature in a struggle for his life. Then it may go 
hard with him indeed if he be not only master of 
himself, but of that woodcraft which holds the key 
to Nature's storehouse. A camper should know for 
himself how to outfit, how to select and make a 
camp, how to wield an axe and make proper fires, 
how to cook, wash, mend, how to travel without 
losing his course, or what to do when he has lost 
it; how to trail, hunt, shoot, fish, dress game, man- 
age boat or canoe, and how to extemporize such 
makeshifts as may be needed in wilderness faring. 
And he should know these things as he does the way 
to his mouth. Then is he truly a woodsman, sure 
to do promptly the right thing at the right time, 
whatever befalls. Such a man has an honest pride 
in his own resourcefulness, a sense of reserve force, a 
doughty self-reliance that is good to feel. His is 
the confidence of the lone sailorman, who whistles 
as he puts his tiny bark out to sea. 

And there are many of us who, through some mis- 
cue of the Fates, are not rich enough to give carte 
blanche orders over the counter. We would like 
silk tents, air mattresses, fiber packing cases, and all 
that sort of thing; but we would soon " go broke " 
if we started in at that rate. I am saying nothing 
about guns, rods, reels, and such-like, because they 
are the things that every well conducted sportsman 
goes broke on, anyway, as a matter of course. I am 
speaking only of such purchases as might be thought 
extravagant. And it is conceivable that some folks 
might call it extravagant to pay thirty-five dollars 
for a thing to sleep in when you lie out of doors on 
the ground from choice, or thirty dollars for pots 
and pans to cook with when you are '* playing hobo,'' 
as the unregenerate call our sjdvan sport. To 


practise shrewd economies in such things helps out 
if you are caught slipping in through the back gate 
with a brand-new gun, when everybody knows that 
you already possess more guns than you can find 
legitimate use for. 

If one begins, as he should, six months in advance, 
to plan and prepare for his next summer or fall vaca- 
tion, he can, by gradual and surreptitious hoarding, 
get together a commendable camping equipment, and 
nobody will notice the outlay. The best way is to 
make many of the things yourself. This gives your 
pastime an air of thrift, and propitiates the Lares 
and Penates by keeping you home o' nights. And 
there is a world of solid comfort in having every- 
thing fixed just to suit you. The only way to have 
it so is to do the work yourself. One can weat 
ready-made clothing, he can exist in ready-furnished 
rooms, but a ready-made camping outfit is a delu- 
sion and a snare. It is sure to be loaded with gim- 
cracks that you have no use for, and to lack some- 
thing that you will be miserable without. 

It is great fun, in the long winter evenings, to 
sort over your beloved duffel, to make and fit up the 
little boxes and hold-alls in w'hich everything has 
its proper place, to contrive new wrinkles that no- 
body but yourself has the gigantic brain to conceive, 
to concoct mysterious dopes that fill the house with 
unsanctimonious smells, to fish around for materials, 
\n odd corners where you have no business, and, gen- 
erally, to set the female members of the household 
buzzing around in curiosity, disapproval, and sundry 
other states of mind. 

To be sure, even though a man rigs up his own 
outfit, he never gets it quite to suit him. Every sea- 
son sees the downfall of some cherished scheme, the 
failure of some fond contrivance. Every winter 
sees you again fussing over your kit, altering this, 
substituting that, and flogging your wits with the 
same old problem of huw to save weight and bulk 
without sacrifice of utility. All thoroughbred camp- 


ers do this as regularly as the birds come back in 
wnrll'l.' ^h^/^^^^"d has been doing it since the 
^^ orld began It is good for us. If some misguided 
gemus should invent a camping equipment that no- 
body could find fault with, half our pleasure in life 
would be swept away. 

This is not saying that outfitters' catalogues shoula 
be Ignored. Get them, by all means, and study 
them with care. Do this at home, comparing one 
catalogue with another, that you may know just 
what you want and what you don't want, before 
you go out to make purchases. Then you will not 
be such easy prey to the plausible clerk, and your 
selection will bear the stamp of your individuality. 
Ihe joys and sorrows of camp life, and the pro- 
portion of each to the other, depend very much upon 
how one chooses his companions — granting that he 
has_ any ^choice in the matter at all. It may be 
noticed that old-timers are apt to be a bit distant 
when a novice betrays any eagerness to share in their 
pilgrimages. There is no churlishness in this" 
rather it is commendable caution. Not every good 
tellow in town makes a pleasant comrade in the 
vvoods. So It IS that experienced campers are chary 
ot admitting new members to their lodges To be 
one of them you must be of the right stuff, ready to 
endure trial and privation without a murmur, and 
— what IS harder for most men — to put up with 
petty inconveniences without grumbling. 

For there is a seamy side to camp life, as to every- 
thing else. Even in the best of camps things do 
happen sometimes that are enough to make a saint 
swear silently through his teeth. But no one is fit 
for such life who cannot turn ordinarv ill-luck into 
a joke, and bear downright calamity like a gentle- 


Yet there are other qualities in a good camp-mate 
that are rarer than fortitude and endurance. Chief 
of these is a love of Nature for her own sake — not 
the "put on" kind that expresses itself in gushy 


sentimentalism, but that pure, intense, though 
ordinarily mute affection which finds pleasure in 
her companionship and needs none other. As Olive 
Shreiner says: " It is not he who praises Nature, 
but he who lies continually on her breast and is 
satisfied, who is actually united to her." Donald G. 
IMitchell once remarked that nobody should go to 
the country with the expectation of deriving much 
pleasure from it, as country, who has not a keen eye 
for the things of the country, for scenery, or for 
trees, or flowers, or some kind of culture ; to which 
a New York editor replied that " Of this not one 
city man in a thousand has a particle in his compo- 
sition." No doubt a gross exaggeration ; but the 
proportion of city men who do thoroughly enjoy the 
hardy sports and adventures of the wilderness is cer- 
tainly much larger than those who could be enter- 
tained on a farm ; yet the elect of these, the ones 
who can find plenty to interest them in the woods 
when fishing and hunting fail, are not to be found 
on every street corner. 

If your party be made up of men ^experienced in 
the woods, hire a guide, and, if there be more than 
three of you, take along a cook as well. Treat youi 
guide as one of yourselves. A good one deserves 
such consideration ; a poor one is not worth having 
at all. But if you cannot afford this expense, then 
leave the real wilderness out of account for the pres- 
ent ; go to some pleasant woodland, w^ithin hail of 
civilization, and start an experimental camp, spend- 
ing a good part of your time in learning how to 
wield an axe, how to build proper fires, how to cook 
good meals out-of-doors, and so forth. Be sure to 
get the privilege beforehand of cutting what wood 
you will need. It is worth paying some wood-geld 
that you may learn how to fell and hew. Here, 
w^ith fair fishing and some small game hunting, you 
can have a jolly good time, and will be fitted for 
something more ambitious the next season. 

In any case, be sure to get together a company of 

good-hearted, manly fellows, who will take things 
as they come, do their fair share of the camp chores, 
and agree to have no arguments before breakfast. 
There are plenty of such men, steel-true and blade- 
straight. Then will your trip be a lasting pleasure, 
to be lived over time and again in after years. 
There are no friendships like those that are made 
under canvas and in the open field. 

In the following pages I treat the matter of out- 
fitting in detail, not that elaborate outfits are usually 
desirable — for they are not — but because in town 
there is so much to pick and choose from. There 
are many patterns of this, that, and the other article 
of equipment, some good for one kind of camping, 
come for another. I try to explain their " points," 
^hat the reader may choose intelligently according 
to his needs. 


When camp Is made in a certain locality with no 
intention of moving it until the party is ready to 
go home, it usually Is called a *' permanent camp." 
This is a misuse of terms; for a camp of any kind 
is only a temporary biding place. *' The camp and 
not the soil," says Gibbon, " Is the native country 
of the genuine Tartar." When speaking of a camp 
fixed in one place for a considerable time, I shall 
call it a fixed camp or stationary camp. It differs 
from a shifting camp, so far as outfitting is con- 
cerned, In permitting the use of heavy and bulk> 
equipment and more of the comforts of home. 

Wall Tents. — For fixed camps, situated where 
there are wagon roads or other adequate ways of 
transportation, the best cloth shelter Is a wall tent, 
rectangular or square, of strong and rather heavy 

Fig. I.— Wall Tent, with Fly 

It Is a trade custom to list tents according to an 
arbitrary scale of ground dimensions, In even feet, 
although the cloth seldom works out exactly so ; for 
ground dimensions art* governed by the number of 


widths of cloth used and the number of inches to 
the width, allowing for seams. To slit the cloth 
lengthwise would destroy its strongest part, the 
selvage, besides being a waste of material. More- 
over, cloth stretches or shrinks in handling. 

In the following table are given the trade sizeSj 
actual ground dimensions (these may vary), stand- 
ard heights of wall and center, and w^eights of un- 
proofed tents (without flies, poles, or stakes) in 
sizes commonly used by campers. These sizes apply 
only to tents made of standard 29-inch duck. li 
36-inch stuff, or some other width, is used, propor- 
tional allowances must be made. 

29-lNCH Duck. 

Actual width 



Trade sizes. 

and length. 



9 X 9 ft. 

9^3 X 9>^ ft. 

3 ft. 

y'A ft 

9x12 ft. 

9J/lxii>^ ft. 

3 ft. 

iVz ^' 

12 X 12 ft. 

iii^xii>4 ft. 

s'A ft. 

8 ft. 

12 X 14 ft. 

n>^x 14K' ft. 

3/2 ft. 

8 ft. 

12 X 16 ft. 

ii>Sxi634 ft. 

3^ ft. 

8 ft. 

14 X 14 ft. 

14 X 14 ft. 

4 ft. 

9 ft. 

14 X 16 ft. 

14 xi6;4 ft. 

4 ft. 

9 ft. 

vVeights c 

)£ tents 


Trade sizes 

8 oz. 10 oz. 

12 oz. 


9 X 9 ft. 

24 lbs. 30 


36 lbs. 

^8 lbs. 

9x12 ft. 

293^ lbs. 35 


42 lbs. 

30 lbs. 

12 X 12 ft. 

36 lbs. 41 K' lbs. 

50 lbs. 

35 lbs. 

12 X 14 ft. 

40 lbs. 49 


59 lbs. 

39 lbs. 

12x16 ft. 

44 lbs. 573^ lbs. 

63 lbs. 

40 lbs. 

14 X 14 ft. 

44K' lbs. 58 


68 lbs. 

41 lbs. 

14 x 16 ft. 

Si'A lbs. 63 


76 lbs. 

45 lbs. 

Weight of poles and stakes varies a good deal, 
according to size and density of wood. 

Flies of same length as tent, and same kind of 
duck, weigh about half as much as the tent itself. 

As a rule, not more than four persons should 
occupy one tent. Two in a tent will get along 
better; for camp life is very intimate in anv casir 


A group of small tents around a common campflre 
is quite as sociable as if the party were all bunked 
together — except when sociability is not wanted^ 
as when some wish to sleep and others want to play 
cards. Even a camper does not care to reduce his 
individuality to a least common multiple. 

Two small tents need not be made of so heavj* 
material as a large one of cubic capacity equal to 
both of them. They are easier to erect and man- 
age. They are more adaptable to various camp 
sites. Their short poles are handier to transport 
(for that matter, jointed ones may be bought, up 
to a limit of twelve feet total length). And small 
tents are stancher in a gale than big ones. 

Roominess is not to be estimated by ground di- 
mensions alone. It depends much upon height of 
center and walls. If a tent is to be used right on 
the ground, not elevated over a floor with base- 
boards, it should be made higher in center and walls 
than the standard proportions given in the table. 
This is not expensive: the charge is only five per 
cent, of the cost of regular tent for each six inches 
of added height. 

To my notion the best all-round size of wall tent 
for two people, if weight and bulk and cost are of 
any consequence, is the so-called 9x9 or a 9x 12, 
huilt with 3}^-foot walls, instead of 3-foot, and 
8-foot center, instead of 7^-foot. For four per- 
sons a 12x14 is commonly used; but a 14x14 
with 4-foot walls and 9-foot center has double the 
head-room of the standard 12x14, and 2j/^ feet 
more space between cots, if these are set length- 
wise of the tent, two on a side. 

Before selecting a tent, consider the number of 
people to occupy it, and their dunnage, and the furni- 
ture. Then draw diagrams of floor and end ele- 
vation, of various sizes, fitting in the cots, etc., ac- 
cording to scale; so you can get just what you want 
— no more, no less. 

Tent Materials. — The conventional tent is 


made of plain cotton duck. A single roof of such 
material will shed rain, if the stuff is closely woven, 
but only so long as it is stretched at a proper angle, 
rather taut, and nothing touches it from the inside. 
If so much as a finger-tip should be rubbed against 
the under side of the roof, a leak would spring 
there, due to capillary action. It is of little use to 
draw the finger from the drip spot down to the tent 
wall, for, although this runs the water off for a 
time, fresh dripping will start on each side of the 

Nor is it possible to avoid slackness in a roof of 
plain canvas during a wet spell of weather. Cloth 
that is not water-proofed will shrink a great deal 
as soon as it gets wet ; hence the guy ropes must be 
let out, and the roof allowed to sag, before the rain 
zomes; otherwise the shrinkage of the canvas will 
loosen your tent stakes, or even pull them all up 
together, when down goes your house about your 

For these reasons, a tent should either be water- 
proofed, or should have a supplementary roof called, 
a fly. These matters will be considered later. 

Cotton duck comes in three geneial grades, known 
as single filling, double filling, and army duck. 

Single filling duck is made of coarse yarn, loosely 
woven, and of an inferior grade of cotton. It is 
suitable only for cheap tents that are not intended 
for continuous use, and generally is a bad " bar- 
gain " even then. It is weaker than the same weight 
of the other grades and is poor stuff to shed water. 

Double filling duck is of closer texture, better 
fiber, and is equal to all but the hardest service. 
For average summer camping It Is good enough. 

Army duck Is the best grade made, of selected 
cotton free from sizing, both warp and filling 
doubled and twisted, closely woven, and free from 
imperfections — if It comes up to army standard. 
It will outwear any other tent material of the same 
weight, except flax (which I have not seen used 


in this country), and sheds water much better than 
cheaper grades. 

Khaki generally means simply duck or twill that 
has been colored to the familiar leaf brown of hunt- 
ing togs. It may be had in almost any grade, the 
best, of course, being army tent khaki. 

The strength and durability of duck depends 
largely upon its weight per square foot. Standard 
tent duck comes m weights of 8 ounces, 10 ounces, 
12 ounce J, 4nd upwards, to the running yard of 
material 29 inches wide (army duck, 283^ inches). 
But other duck is made in 36-inch width, or wider. 
The 36-inch stuff is about one-fourth lighter per 
running yard than 29-inch duck ; in other words, its 
" 8-ounce " weight is really about 6-ounce, it3 
" lo-ounce " is 7^-ounce, its " 12-ounce " is 9-ounce 
stuff, as compared with standard goods. Bear this 
in mind when comparing qualities and prices of 
tents by different makers. Some tent makers specify 
in their catalogues which width is used ; others do 
not. In case of doubt, get samples of cloth before 

Since guys and beckets (loops for the pegs) gen- 
erally are fitted only where there are seams, it fol- 
lows that a tent made of wide duck is not so stanch 
as one of standard widths. All things considered, 
8-ounce army duck (28V2-inch) and lo-ounce 
double filling standard (29-inch) are superior to 
i2-ounce double filling of 36-inch width. 

For fixed camps, nothing less than lo-ounce 
standard duck for tents, and 8-ounce for flies, should 
be used; 12-ounce for tents, and lo-ounce for flie*., 
is preferable, unless the tent be quite small and 
portability Is a factor to be considered. 

Tricks of the Trade. — Not all of them, by 
any means; but a few tricks for the novice to look 
out for if he is not sure of his tent maker. 

Prices fluctuate, of course, with the cotton mar- 
ket, at least in the better grades of duck. And yet, 
in the same season we may notice considerable dif- 


fereiice In prices for what is ostensibly the same 
thing. There is a legitimate margin of variation 
in tent prices according to local cost of production; 
but when " bargains " are offered, keep your weather 
eye open. There are many different qualities of 
duck in grades that nominally are alike — all the 
way from honest clear cotton to weighted stuff that 
is almc^t shoddy. 

A tent may be stunted in height to deceive the 
purchaser, since most buyers consider only the 
ground dimensions. A flattened roof and low walls 
nican less head-room and greater danger of leakage. 
V'ery ciieap tents may have worthless jute ropes, in- 
stead of hemp or sisal, and their poles and stakes 
may be defective. 

Low prices generally go with Interior workman- 
ship. Look out for single seams, chain stitching, 
insufficient stay-pieces or reinforcements where the 
chief strains come, and machine-clamped brass grom- 
mets, that tear out easily, instead of galvanized iron 
rings sewed in by hand. 

High prices, on the contrary, may mean refine- 
ments that ordinary campers do not need. Between 
the two extremes there is wide room for choice. 
For example, at the time of this writing, you can 
get a new 9x9 wall tent of single filling duck 
(29-inch), complete with fly, poles, stakes, and 
ropes, for as little as $11.50. For the best grade of 
U. S. Army 9x9 officers' tent you would pay 
^Si.50- Of course, the army tent is of far better 
material than the cheap one, and it is higher at cen- 
ter and walls, but a good part of the difference in 
price Is due to hand sewing and hand workmanship 
throughout. In the officers' model, even to finishing 
every becket and door-string with a Matthew 
Walker knot. 

Wathri'Roof Tents. — A waterproof tent need? 
no fly to shed rain ; but it should have eaves to carry 
drip free from the walls, if there are any. It costs 
less than a plain tent of equal quality with fly, 


weighs less, bulks less when packed, does not mil- 
dew, does not have to be dried out every time before 
moving, and is easier to set up and manage than 
one with a fly. 

A prime advantage of the processed cloth is that 
it does not shrink when rained on. This means a 
lot of trouble saved. With a tent of ordinary can- 
vas it is necessary to slacken guys before a rain, and 
at night before turning in, lest the stakes be pulled 
loose. Of course, if long guy ropes are used they 
will shrink, and must be eased before a rain, even 
though the tent itself be waterproof. 

Waterproof materials, and home methods of 
waterproofing tents, are discussed in Chapter V. 
For heavy tents, such as we are now considering, my 
own preference is either " green waterproof " 
(Willesden) duck or a cravenetted khaki. Both of 
these are perfectly rainproof, in heavy and closelj^ 
woven stuffs; they are soft, and are not affected by 
heat or cold. 

Colored tents, either khaki or green, are restful 
to the eyes, blend pleasantly with their surround- 
ings, and are not so likely as white ones to attract 
the attention of unwelcome visitors, from insects to 
tramps. They do not soil so easily as white can- 
vas, and do not make shadow pictures of the inmates 
by lantern light. Khaki or green is cooler under 
the summer sun than white. It moderates the glare 
for those who would sleep late or take a siesta (some 
cannot sleep well in a white tent under a full moon) , 
and it does not light up so brilliantly as white can- 
vas when the lightning flashes. 

Tent Flies. — A fly is an auxiliary roof of can- 
vas, to shed rain and to make the tent cooler. 

Most tent flies are set tight on top of the regular 
ridge pole. A better plan, when the camp is not to 
be shifted for a good while, is to use t\vo ridge poles, 
and so have a space between the fly and the ridge 
for air to circulate through. In small tents, it is 
handier to have a stout band on the :^idge of the 


tent itself, with strings by which it can be sus- 
pended from an outside ridge pole that is cut in the 
woods, this pole being set up on shears at each end. 
This leaves the doorway unobstructed. Such a rig 
permits the use of any sized fly, with only one ridge 
pole (Fig. ii). 

Many like to have the fly large enough to form a 
7- or 8-foot canopy in front of the tent; but there 
are disadvantages in this rig: it cuts off side en- 
trance, and it makes the fly a sport of the winds. 
A gust can get tremendous purchase under a pro^ 

Fig. 2. — Extension Fly 

truding roof and is likely to send it sailing. Even 
in moderate winds there will be a great slatting and 
banging, just when one wants to drop off to sleep. 
Generally it is best to have a spare fly, as I have 
mentioned for the dining place, and erect a frame 
in front of the tent over which this cloth can be 
stretched for an awning (Fig. 2). In this case the 
awning can be rigged as high as one wishes, and 
will not be in the way ot entering the tent from one 

A fly large enough to project three or four feet 
for shelter over the doorway is not objectionable; 
in fact it is a good thing, especially if made long 
pnough to come almost to the ground at the sides. 



Figure 3 shows one of Edgington's tropical tents 
with such a fly (similar ones are made in this coun- 
try). Note the liberal air-space between fly and 
tent. The shelter outside the tent w^alls is useful 

Fig- 3- — Tropical Tent 

for baggage, dry wood, dogs, etc. Such a fly weighs 
and costs about as much as the tent itself. For se- 
curity in a wind, the '' storm set " should be used 
(Fig. lo). 

Sod-Cloth. — If a tent is not to be floored and 
fitted with a base-board, it should have a sod-cloth. 
This is a strip of 8-ounce canvas, about 9 inches 
wide, that is sewed all along the bottom edge of the 
tent walls, both sides and ends (Fig. 16). When 
the tent has been set up, this sod-cloth is turned in 
on the floor and weighted down with poles or stones. 
Its function is to keep out insects and draughts that 
otherwise would enter through the numerous gaps 
that are left between tent pegs. The bottom edge 
of a tent is the worst possible place to get ventila- 
tion from; one might as well seek to ventilate a 
house through cracks in the floor. Banking the tent 
inside with leaves and earth is a poor substitute for 
a sod-cloth. It will not stay tight for an hour, and 
the earth rots the canvas. 

Ground-Sheet. — In a small tent that often is 
shifted from place to place, a ground-sheet to cover 
•■iic floor and lap over the sod-cloth is a good thing 


to keep the interior dry and secure against insects; 
but in a fixed camp such a carpet is a nuisance. It 
gets filthy, and it stays so. Bare earth is soon 
trodden down hard so that it is easy to sweep and 
keep clean. I have lived for months in an un- 
floored cabin, and my partner and I had no trouble 
to keep the earthen floor neat to the eye and more 
sanitary than any carpet. If you want a floor in a 
tent, build a real one of dressed boards brought along 
for the purpose. 

Vextilatiox. — " Nessmuk " used to rail at wall 
tents and wedge tents because they were so fusty 
and damp and cheerless. So they are when im- 
properly built and carelessly managed. One's main 
reason for camping out should be to get plenty of 
fresh air and sunshine. It is not enough to have 
good air in daytime. One-third of our time is 
spent in bed. And yet it is common practice to 
close the tent tight at night, especially if there are 
any mosquitoes about. Consider. Who would 
spend summer nights at home with no window 
open ? Well, a tent closed up is less permeable to 
air than the average house w^ith windows down. 

The notion that night air in the woods is ma- 
larial or otherwise unwholesome is idiotic. It is 
the best air there is. Still, you can't buy a wall 
tent in America that has proper means of ventila- 
tion, unless you have it built to order. Army tents 
have ventilators, so-called, that are nothing but a 
hole at each peak, four inches wnde and eight inches 
long. A tent window, to be of any account, should 
be not less than 12 x i8 inches. 

Our best tent makers will fit one or more win- 
dows in a tent wherever the owner wants them, at 
from $1.00 to $2.50 each. The opening is covered 
with fine-mesh bobbinet, taped around the edges 
and crosswise, with a canvas storm flap that can be 
raised or lowered from the inside (Fig. 4). A more 
elaborate kind, that may be detached and rolled up 
when the lent is folded, is made of copper mosquito 



bar, and has a celluloid window that can be slipped 
in when it rains. 

In a tent of ordinary size, one such window at 
the rear, w^ith the doorway left wide open in fair 
weather, will make the place a cheerful and whole- 
some abode instead of a fusty den. 

Mosquito Bar. — The doorway may be screened 
by a sort of drop-curtain of bobbinet or cheesecloth ; 
ordinary mosquito netting is too easily torn, and its 
mesh is too open to exclude the smaller mosquitoes 
and gnats. Bobbinet is expensive. The tent' 

Fig. 4. — Bobbinet Window Fig. 5. — Mosquito Curtain 

maker will attach a cheesecloth front to a tent 9 to 
14 feet wide for about $2.85. 

Rear Door. — For about the same price as a 
window, and serving as well for ventilation, the 
fent-maker will put an extra door in the rear end 
of the tent, with cheesecloth screen. This is a bet- 
ter arrangement for hot weather, and often con- 
venient when there is a driving rain or a contrary 
wind ; but it reduces the space for wall-pockets, 
shelves, etc. 

Door Weights. — To do away with pegs at the 
entrance, that you are apt to stumble over, tie a 
short and rather heavy pole to the bottom of each 
flap. This holds the door open when desired, and 
closes it securely against dogs, '' varmints," and the 


Stove-pipe Hole.^-A simple tin protector for 

this opening is an annoyance at night, for it scrapes 

and skreeks when the canvas slats in the wind. 

Tent-makers supply pipe shields of asbestos that are 

quite safe, noiseless, and roll up nicely with the tent 

when it is stored or en route. A 

flap covers the opening when no 

stove is in use (Fig. 6). 

Tent Poles and Pins. — • 

Poles should be of ash, white pine, 

or spruce, straight-grained and 

free from defects. At each end 

there should be a galvanized iro»*, 

. , band to keep the pole from split- 

Fig. 6. — Asbestos 

Pipe Guard ^^"g- ^, . , / 

A wall tent requires stakes (un- 
less a frame is built for the guys) about two feet 
long, and becket pins about sixteen inches. Shorter 
ones will not hold in loose or sandy soil. Wooden 
ones do very wtW for stationary camps. 

Care of Tents. — Never except when unavoid- 
able should a tent be rolled up when wet. Even if 
it be only damp from dew, an unprocessed tent will 
soon mildew if packed away in that state. The 
parts that require most drying are where the ma- 
terial is doubled, as at the seams and along the 
edges: the bottom edge especially, and the sod-cloth, 
are sure to rot if not thoroughly dried before stow- 
ing away. 

To protect the tent in transport, it should be 
carried in a stout bag; otherwise it is likely to be 

Tent pins are to be carried in a bag of their own, 
not only to save them from being lost, but also be- 
cause their inevitable dampness when camp is struck 
would rot the tent if they were rolled up with it. 

To Mend a Tear in Canvas. — Cross-stitch 
it flat, using a sail needle and twine, and taking a 
narrow hold on each side with one stitch, then a 
wider hold with the next one, and so on alternately. 


I'hen it will not tear again so easily as if narrow 
stitches were taken all along, nor will it be likely to 
ruck. Temporary repairs can be made with adhe- 
sive plaster. 

Second-hand Tents. — Second-hand army tents 
that are in good, serviceable condition, having been 
condemned for stains or other trifling defects, may 
be bought cheaply from dealers who get them at 
government auctions. These army tents are always 
well designed and well made. Second-hand tents, 
however, should not be bought without inspection ; 
they may be mildewed or otherwise unserviceable. 

Tent Rental. — Some tent-makers and outfit- 
ters have tents for rent. From a list at hand I copy 
the following charges for wall tents: 10x12, 
$2.00 first week, and half this for each succeeding 
week; 12 x 14, $2.50 do.; 14X 16, $3.00 do.; flies, 
half these prices. In some places 3 whole camp 
equipment can be rented. 

Pitching Wall Tents. — A tent should stand 
squared and taut and trim. This not only that 
one's eyes may dwell with pride upon his camp, but 
because a tent that is wrinkled and set askew will 
not shed a downpour nor stand stanchly against a 

In erecting any square or rectangular tent, the 
first thing is to locate the corners, and from them 
to determine where the corner guy stakes are to be 
driven. Soldiers do this by measuring with the up- 
right poles, but as the height of a common tent may 
not bear the right relation to its spread, for this 
purpose, a knotted string may be better. 

Set up the tent in your yard at home and adjust 
poles and guys until the angles of the wall are true 
and the canvas is drawn smooth all around. To 
square the corners, observe that a triangle the sides 
of which are 3, 4 and 5 ft., or multiples of these, 
forms a right angle. 

Then take a stout fish-line, fasten a small peg at 
one end, and drive this peg close into one corner of 


the tent (//, Fig. 7). Draw the line straight (gen- 
tly, so as not to stretch it) to center of upright pole 
{B) (if there be one) in the doorway; tie a knot 
in it there, and then go on to the corner C, where it 
is knotted again. Drive a small peg at C, pass the 
string around it, and on to the corner D, where an- 
other knot is tied and peg driven. Then draw the 
line diagonally back to A, and knot it. Cut the 
line at the last knot, reel it up on its peg, and keep it 
stowed with the tent for future use. 

When the camp ground is reached, it is but the 
work of a moment to peg out, with the knotted 

A r\' 

B. :i 


Fig. 7. — Locating Corners of the Tent 

String, first the triangle A CD and then, reversing, 
EDC. You then have located exactly the positions 
of the four corners for your tent, and marked where 
the uprights shall be set, and the tent is sure to 
stand " square." 

A wall tent is set up with inside or outside poles, 
and its wall and fly are guyed out either to stakes 
or to horizontal poles set up on posts. We will con- 
sider these methods in turn. 

Wall Tent on Inside Poles, Staked. — This 
is the usual way of setting up a wall tent, with or 
without a fly ; but it is not the best, except when 
It is necessary or expcch'ent to carry shop-made pole^ 
and stakes with the outfit, as in the case of an army, 


or of a party traveling by wagon and frequently 
moving camp. 

Having chosen the best frontage, lay out the cor- 
ners and end centers with cord and small pegs, as 
described. Then drive the corner guy stakes diag- 
onally outward from tent corners, slanting them as 
shown in Fig. 8. If fly guys are to be looped over 
them, as well as wall guys, the stakes should be long 
enough to project well and still take firm hold in 
the ground. (When striking a tent, do not work 

Fig. 8. — Tent Stake and Guy Rope 

the stakes forward and backward to loosen them, 
but slip a looped rope over the notch and pull at 
angle that stake was driven.) Corner stakes are 
driven several feet away from tent, depending on 
slope of roof, and two or three feet outward, fore 
and aft, to make the guys draw diagonally. 

Now unroll the tent and drag it away by the 
ridge until it is laid out flat over the ground selected. 

Insert ridge pole (rounded side up) inside the 
tent, with its holes for the spindles (iron pins in 
end of uprights) meeting the grommets or large eye- 


lets at ends of tent ridge. Place uprights at front 
and rear, at right angles to ridge, spindles inserted in 
ridge pole and passing out through peak grommets. 

If a fly is to be used, lay it out flat over the tent, 
spindles passing through grommets as in the tent. 
i If end guys are to be run out fore and aft, or the 
storm set is used (Fig. lo), slip the loops of the 
long guys over the spindles. 

A man at each end now takes hold of an upright, 
and the two raise tent and fly together. Then one 
or two men hold the tent in position while one or 
two others guy out the corners (beginning on the 
windward side) so that the tent will stand by itself. 
See that the uprights stand truly perpendicular. 

Tie up the door and peg down the corners of the 
tent wall. 

Guy out the sides to stakes, tightening or slack- 
ening the ropes alternately with their slides until the 
tent stands true and the guys draw evenly. 

Stretch the fly similarly, making sure that it 
touches the tent nowhere except at the ridge. It 
should clear the eaves by at least 6 inches, preferably 
9 or lo inches. This requires an extra set of stakes 
driven outside the wall stakes, or a single set of long 
stakes with double notches (army tents). In the 
latter case there is not enough clearance for hot 
weather, unless the fly ropes are propped up on 
crotched sticks (see further under Action of Wind 
ON Tents). A better method, without any stakes, 
is described later. 

Finish pegging down the tent wall ; or, If there is 
a sod cloth, weight It down with flat rocks or poles, 
which is a better rig, not only to exclude draughts 
and Insects, but also because then the tent wall can 
readily be clewed up to the eaves, In fine wxather, to 
sun and air the Interior. 

The tent now stands Gquare and taut all around 

(Fig. 9), secure against all but heavy end winds. 

. To brace it against end strain you could run a pair 

»of long guys out fore and aft; but such a rig is a 



never-ending source of wrath and objurgation. It 
is forever in the way, prevents having the camp-fire 
in front where you want it, and is sure to be run 
into or tripped over by anyone who goes out of the 
tent at night. 

Fig. 9.— U. S. Array Wall Tent with Fly. (Officers' Tent) 

Storm Set. — Better end braces are rigged with 
a pair of long guy ropes each of which has a loop 
in the middle to go over the upright spindle and a 
regulating lashing at each end. These may be made 
fast to corner stakes set diagonally outward from 

Fig. 10. — Storm Set 

the tent corners, as with army hospital tents; but a 
better plan is w^hat I call the storm set (Fig. 10), in 
which the ropes are carried backward to the oppo- 
site corners. The storm set leaves both ends of the 
tent free from obstruction, takes less room, does not 
tend to Dull apart a jointed ridge pole^ if such is 

used, keeps the fly from " ballooning " when wind 
gets under it, and is the most secure of all end braces 
because the strain each way is met by ropes pulling, 
over a triangle of wide base, directly back against 
the wind. 

In the illustration, the loop at middle of one guy 
is slipped over the spindle A, one end is drawn back 
to C and the other to the stake opposite C. Simi- 
larly the other guy runs from B to D and E. 

Wall Tent with Guy Frames. — Tent stakes 
are troublesome t-hings at best. Generally when 
you go to driving them you find stones or roots in 
the way. They do not hold well except in favorable 

Fig. II. — Wall Tent on Shears with Guy Frame 

soil and in dry weather. When guy ropes get wet 
they shrink and engage in a tug of war that loosens 
the stakes. 

If poles grow near the camp site i»: is more satis- 
factory to drive four heavy crotched corner stakes 
and lay a stiff pole across each pair of them at about 
ihe height of the tent wall and parallel to its sides, 
to which the guy ropes are made fast (see Fig. ii). 

If a fly is used, lash a rather heavy pole to each 
edge and drop these poles over the guy rods. Their 
weight automatically keeps the fly taut at all times, 
wet or dry. 

Tent on Shears. — Tent poles are bothersome 



on the train and in a wagon, and impossible in a 
canoe or on a pack train unless they are jointed. 
Socketed poles become useless, or hard to refit, if a 
ferrule is stepped on or otherwise dented. An up- 
right pole in the doorway must be dodged every time 
you go in or out. A pair of shear legs at each end 
of the tent, to support the ridge pole, is a stancher 


Cut four straight poles a couple of feet longer 
than the distance from peak to corner of tent, and 
a stiff stick for ridge pole about two feet longer than 

Fig. 12. — Lashing for Shear Legs. 
(For Tent Shears it is not Neces- 
sary to Take so many Turns) 

Fig. 14. — Mag- 
nus Hitch. 
(Not Apt to 
Slip Along a 

Fig. 13. — Shea 
Legs Spread 

the tent. To bind the shear poles, lay a pair of 
them side by side; with a small rope take several 
turns around both poles near their upper ends, not 
too tightly, then pass the ends of the rope one up 
and the other down, to form a cross-lashing, and tie 
them with a reef knot (Fig. 12). When the butts 
of the shear legs are drawn apart the crossing of 
the tips puts a strain on the knot and effectually se- 
cures them (Fig. 13). 

Having spread out the tent and inserted the ridge 
pole (or tied it outside), raise tent with the shears, 


and spread their legs until the tent just touches the 
ground when ready to be pegged down (Fig. ii). 
One man can raise a rather heavy tent in this way 
by working first at one end and then at the other. 
In the case of a wall tent w^ith fly, erect side 
frames for the guys (Fig. ii) ; but if no fly is used, 
all that is needed is to lash side poles to the shears 
and tie the eaves fast to them : this is the best rig for 
a small waterproof tent that is to be moved often 

(Fig. 15)- 

Sometimes the rear end of the ridge pole can be 
lashed to a convenient sapling, or rested in the fork 
of a limb. Some campers plant a single crotched 
post at the rear, but usually it is easier to set up 
shears than to find a suitable crotch and plant it 

Fig. 15. — Wall Tent with Side Bars 

firmly. It is one advantage of shear legs that they 
can be erected without diflficulty anywhere, although 
the ground may be rocky or frozen. 

This rig has several other merits. It leaves the 
doonvay unobstructed. The legs do not sink so 
much in soft soil or sand as single uprights; if they 
should sink, they can be raised in a trice by drawing 
the butts closer together. Similarly, when the tent 
shrinks, from wetting, the strain can be eased by 
simply lifting one shear leg and pushing it a little 
farther outward. When the canvas sags, draw the 
legs closer to their mates, and you stretch the tent 
as taut as a drum-head. 

An inside ridge pole is best for a large, heavy 


tent; but it must be straight and smooth, or it will 
wear the canvas and make it leak. Small or me- 
dium-size tents are best made with a strongly rein- 
forced outer ridge with cords by which the tent is 
tied to an outside ridge pole (Fig. 11). In this 
case the pole need not be so straight nor so care- 
fully trimmed. 

An outside ridge pole is excellent to keep a tent 
fly clear all around from the tent roof, permitting 
a free circulation of air between the two, which 
keeps the tent cool in summer. 

Trenching the Tent. — This should always 

be done if camp is not to be v 

moved frequently. Do not dig ^^o 

the ditch V-shaped, but cut ^^-^ 

straight down, just outside the 

tent pegs and slope the trench 

inward toward this dam (Fig. 

16). Cast the dirt away ; never 

bank it against the tent, for it ^^^ . 

v^^ould quickly rot the canvas. ^ -£^^ !!^^^ 

Give the ditch a uniform slope ^^/^^^^^ 

toward the lowest ground ^. , ^^ , . 

, , Till Fig. 16. — Trenching: 

around the tent. In the shal- Xent 

lowest places it need not be over 

three inches deep. A trench that does not draia 

well is worse than none. 

Tent Floors. — In fixed camp, especially if it is 
in a sandy place, the tent should have a board floor. 
Lay down the requisite number of 2" x 4" scantling 
as floor-joists, setting them on flat rocks or posts if 
necessary. (It is well to let the front and rear 
joists project far enough for a guy-rope frame to be 
nailed to them.) Plank them over with dressed 
lumber. The edges should be dressed to match,", 
tongued and grooved flooring is best. 

If you have enough lumber, run a base-board 
around the sides and rear. Inside the base-boards, 
at each corner, set up a 2" x 4" joist to height of tent 
wall, and connect these corner posts at top by nar-^ 


row boards, on the outside, corresponding to the 
base-boards (Fig. 17). 

Such a frame helps to hold the tent in shape. 
The upper boards are convenient for hanging up 
wall-pockets, guns, etc., where they are handy but 

out of the way. , . 1 1 

Loop the tent-pin beckets over nails in the base- 
boards: then the walls can be clewed up in warm 

Before laying a floor the tent first should be set 
up without it and accurate measurements taken (or 
the measuring string previously mentioned may be 
used). If the floor is too small there will be en- 

Fig, 17. — Tent Floor, with Wall Rail, Base-board, and 
End Joists Projecting that Corner Stakes May Be Nailed 
to Them 

trance for draughts and Insects; If It projects, the 
canvas will not fit over It, and rainwater will run In. 

A portable tent floor may be made in sections 
that bolt together. The sections should not be too 
large to lie flat in a wagon box (for standard roads, 
wagon boxes are usually 42 inches wide ; for narro\^ 
tracks, 38 inches; length of box usually 10^ ft.). 
Dimensions and number of sections will depend, of 
course, upon size of tent. 

Tlxts on Rocky or Sandy Ground. — If the 
ground is too rocky to drive stakes in it, or is hard 
frozen, erect the tent on shears and guy it out to 
rocks or growing bushes. 

Tent stakes do not hold well in sand or in ground 
that has been soaked by rain. It Is customary, In 
such cases, to attach the guys to a double row oi: 



stakes, one behind the other, or intcilocking at right 
angles (one stake driven at a sharp angle toward 
the tent, the other outward so that its notch engages 
the head of the other stake, the two forming an in- 
verted V, thus A). 

An easier and more secure way is to lay a heavy 
pole over the guy ropes close to the stakes (Fig. 18), 
and, if need be, weight it down with rocks, earth, 
or sand- 
In a very sandy place, where no log is to be found, 
dig a small pit for each guy, tie the rope around a 
fagot or to a bag of sand (Fig. 19), bury this, and 
stamp the sand over it. 

Fig. 18. — Guys Weighted 
with Log 

Fig. 19. — Guy Rope Fas- 
tened to Fagot to Be 
Buried in Ground. 

Action of Wind on Tents. — Unless one en- 
camps in an open country the wind will seldom 
strike his tent steadily in a direction parallel with 
the ground. Rather it goes eddying and curling like 
driven smoke: hence the flapping and slatting of the 

During a squall a violent blow may fall straight 
down upon the roof as chough bent on snapping the 
poles; then, rebounding, it will try to carry the 
tent away and aloft, as though your shelter w^ere an 
open umbrella. This action is often marked in 
ravines and in a glade surrounded by tall trees, but 
it may occur anywhere. The stanchest tents for 
a very windy situation are those of conical or pyra- 
midal form, set up on or under tripods. 

A fly-sheet is a perfect wind trap, especially if It 
orojects in the form of a porch, or is set well away 


from the ridge of the tent. This is one reason why 
I prefer a waterproofed tent without fly (except for 
hot climates). If a porch is wanted, rig a sheet of 
canvas over a separate frame in front of the tent; 
I'hen, if it blows away, it will not wreck the tent too. 
The flies of army tents, and of other patterns built 
for hard and varied service, are guyed to double- 
notched wall stakes, and so set rather close to the 
roof (see Fig. 9). 




When you go a-camping, make yourself as com- 
fortable as you can. It is neither heroic nor sensi- 
ble to put peas in your boots to mortify the flesh. 
There is no comfort in toting a lot of baggage over 
bad trails, but when there is a wagon to carry fold- 
ing cots and camp chairs, take them along. 

Pack your provisions, and some of the other things, 
in boxes that will serve for cupboards and cold- 
storage in camp. Put some ready-cut shelf boards in 
them, and leather for hinges. Make sure before- 
hand that you can get enough lumber at your desti- 
nation to make a dining table and benches. 

Straw beds on the ground soon get fusty, and 
they attract vermin. Fixed bunks in a tent harbor 
dirt and dampness. 

Cots. — For a bed in fixed camp, or wherever 
transportation is adequate, choose a folding cot. It 
is easy to keep presentable. It makes a comfortable 
lounge or settee, as well as a good bed. It can be 
picked up bodily and carried out every morning to 
sun and air, leaving the tent floor free for sweeping. 

Wire-bottomed cots are too cumbersome for gen- 
eral camping. Canvas stretcher-beds with frames 
that fold compactly are the right things. I have 
chosen four models for illustration. 






78 in. 

27 in. 

14 in. 

38 X 5x4 in. 

17 lbs 

78 in. 

27 in. 

13 in. 

29x8 X 4 In. 

17 lbs 

78 in. 

30 in. 

20 in. 

34x7x5 in. 

15 lbs 

78 in. 

36 in. 

18 in. 

38x6x6 in. 

20 lbs. 


Fig. 20. — Narrow Cot 

Fig. 21. — Compact Cot 

Fig. 22. — Telescoping Cot 

Fig. 23. — Cot with Mosquito Screen 


The first and fourth of these cots differ only in 
size and weight. The second folds so compactly 
that it can be stowed in a short chest or steamer 
trunk. The third opens like a lazy-tongs, can be 
set up in less than a minute, and is unusually high 
and roomy for its weight. 

The wider the cot, the more comfortable it will 
be, especially in cold weather. On a very narrow 
cot the sleeper's body raises the covering free from 
the bed on both sides, leaving gaps through which 
cold air draws upward between mattress and blan- 
ket, chiUing the sleeper, no matter how much cover- 
ing he may pile on. Sleeping-bags obviate this. 

The cotton pad mattresses made for camp cots are 
needlessly bulky and heavy, hard to lie on, and hard 
to keep dry in the moist forest air. Much better 
is a folded comforter stuffed with wool instead of 
cotton. It can be kept dry and sweet by hanging it 
out in the sun like a blanket. Wool stays fluffy and 
springy, but cotton batting mats down and gets 
lumpy, besides retaining moisture. 

To be secure against insect pests is as essential to 
peace and comfort in camp as a dry roof overhead, if 
not more so. 

If the tent itself is not thoroughly screened 
against flies and mosquitoes, then by all means get 
from the outfitter a cot frame and netting (Fig. 23), 
or, as a makeshift, rig for yourself a pyramidal 
head-screen of netting or cheesecloth, to be hung 
by a string above the bed, with the edges of three 
sides tucked under the mattress after you turn in. 

Camp Chairs. — • Folding stools without backs 
are by no mean? comfortable. Far better is a chair 
in which you can recline and rest the whole body. 
The pattern show^n in Fig. 24 folds as easily as an 
umbrella, to a size 3 ft. long by 3 in. square, and, 
when opened, adjusts itself perfectly to the body. It 
weighs 4^ pounds. A larger size, high enough to 
rest the head, weighs 6% pounds. 

The armchair, Fig. 25, knocks down into six parts 


which are carried in a bag, forming a package 29 x 6 
in., that weighs 8 pounds. This is the Indian 
" Rhorkee " chair, a favorite with old campaigners 
the world over. With the addition of a foot-rest of 

Fig, 24. — Folding Chair 

Fig. 25.— 
Folding Arm Chair 

«)me sort it makes a fairly comfortable bed. Caspai 
Whitney and Richard Harding Davis consider it 
the best camp chair made. Several of our sporting 
goods houses carry it in stock. 

Camp Tables. — A small table in the tent Is an- 

Fig. 26. — Roll-up Table 

Fig. 27.— 
Roll-up Table Top 

other convenience that pays for its transportation. 
The model shown in Fig. 26, with roll top, comes in 
two sizes, 36x27 and 36x36 inches. It folds into 
a package about 6 inches in diameter, and weighs 


16 pounds. The top separately, weighing only 6 
pounds, and costing but $1.25, can be set up on 
forked stakes, as illustrated in Fig. 27. 

The table shown in Fig. 29 folds into a package 
only 27 inches long, and weighs 15 pounds. 

Fig. 2S. — Table with Shelf Fig. 29. — Compact Table 

A Stronger and more rigid table than either of 
these has legs that cross in four directions (Fig. 28). 
It may be bought either plain (16 pounds) or with 
a folding shelf underneath (23 pounds). The top 
is 36 X 27 inches ; size folded, 36x7x5 inches. By 
an interlocking device, two or more of these tables 
may be fastened together, for mess purposes. 




3 p^^-Hk 








Fig. 30. — Folding Shelves 

Fig. 31. — Wall Pocket 

If boards are not procurable near the camp site, 
a portable dining table for a party of four to six 
is quickly rigged by setting up two roll table tops 
(Fig. 27) side by side. 


Shelves and Wall Pockets. — To keep a tent 
from being littered with small articles that are al- 
ways in the way except when you want them and 
can't find them, shelves or wall pockets, or both, are 
well-nigh indispensable. These may be purchased 

The camp cupboard here illustrated (Fig. 30) has 
four shelves, each 10 x 30 inches, folds into a parcel 
4x10x30 inches, and weighs 7 pounds. Other 
sizes are manufactured. 

The wall pocket (Fig. 31) is 30 x 36 inches, and 
weighs 1 5^ pounds. Such things can easily be made 
at home to suit individual requirements. 

Clothes Hangers. — There are various kinds of 
tent-pole hooks for suspending clothing, a lantern, 
and accoutrements. Such a contrivance is to be 
clamped to the rear upright, or to the center pole, 
depending on the kind of tent. Some are made of 
leather or webbing so as to be adjustable to poles of 
any size. 

In any tent with a ridge pole two screw-eyes 
should be put in at opposite ends from which to sus- 
pend by cords a straight stick to hang clothes on. 
This is especially handy for wet clothes on rainy 

Medical Kit. — About the best thing of this sort, 
for average campers who do not have to go very 
light, is the " Household (B) " first aid box fitted 
up by the American National Red Cross, Washing- 
ton, D. C. The case is of heavy tin, 10 x g]^ x 3^ 
inches, white enameled inside and out, and contains 
rhe following articles: 

I 2-oz. bottle Alcohol, 1 2-dram vial Oil of 
I 2-oz. bottle Aromatic Cloves. 

Spirits of Ammonia. i Bottle Soda Mint Tab- 
1 2-oz. bottle Syrup of lets. 

Ipecac. I Bottle Cascara Sagrada 
I 2-oz. bottle Jamaica Tablets. 

Ginger. 2 Iodine Containers. 

1 2-oz. bottle Liniment, i Package A. R. C. Fin* 
1 2-dram vial Olive Oil. ger Dressings (6) 


1 Package A. R. C. Small i Paper Safety Pins. 

Dressings (3) 6 Wooden Tongue De- 

2 A. R. C. First Aid Out- pressors. 

fits. I Medicine Dropper. 

6 Assorted Bandages. i Package Paper Cups. 

I i-yard package Picric i Tourniquet. 

Acid Gauze. i Clinical Thermometer. 

I Spool Adhesive Plaster. i 2-oz. Package Absorb- 
X Pair Scissors. ent Cotton. 

Brief directions telling how to use these are pasted 
Inside the lid, but one should order at the same time 
a copy of the excellent little American Red Cross 
Abridged Text-book on First Aid (General Edition) 
by Major Charles Lynch, Medical Corps, U. S. A. 
For prices see the Red Cross catalogue, which Is sent 
free on application to the address given above. 

Tools. — An axe and a hatchet are Indispensable 
(see Chapters VII and X). If much wood Is to be 
cut, and there are poor axemen In the party, a cross- 
cut saw is the tool for them. The long pattern for 
two men Is much the easiest to cut with, but mean 
to transport; a one-man cross-cut with 3-ft. blade 
and auxiliary handle for the left hand will do very 

A hand saw Is necessary if you are to make a din- 
ing table, tent floor, and so on. Make the cook 
swear on his cook-book that he will not use that saw 
on meat bones (provide him with a cheap kitchen 

A spade or miner's shovel will be needed for 
trenching, and for excavating the refuse pit, latrine, 
and perhaps a cold-storage hole and a camp oven. 

For small tools, see Chapter VII. 

Take an assortment of nails and tacks, a spool of 
annealed wire, a ball of strong twine, and a bundle 
of braided cotton sash cord (for clothes line, emer- 
gency guys to tent, etc.). 

If you have a dog, string some heavy wire between 
two trees as a " trolley," and chain him to it at 
night, so he can move back and forth. 

Here is a good wrinkle that I found in a sports- 


men's magazine: If there are children in camp, 
" put a small cow-bell in the lunch basket or berry 
pail of the youngsters before you let them go into 
strange woods. It will reassure both them and you, 
and may be the means of preventing a tragedy. 
Trust them to shake it up if they get lost! " 

Lanterns. — If a powerful light is wanted in 
camp, a gas lantern of the type advertised in sports- 
men's journals is a good thing, or an acetylene lan- 
tern that is made so that the flame can be regulated. 
Ordinarily a common kerosene lantern will serve 
very well. 

Camp Stoves. — If there is a separate commissary 
tent, the cooking can be done on a common blue- 
flame oil or gasolene stove, set up on a perfectly 
level stand. Such a stove is useless out of doors 
unless fitted with a wind-shield. Do no cooking in 
the living tent: it attracts flies and vermin. 

The best cooking stoves for campers are those 
specially designed for the purpose, and burning 
wood. There are many patterns, of varying merit. 
Do not buy a folding stove for ordinary camping: 
they are bothersome and flimsy. 

I leave out of account stoves without ovens (T 
can see no good reason for a stove at all unless it has 
an oven). There are shown here three different 
types of sheet steel camp stoves, each good in its way. 

The first one (Figs. 32, 33) is very compact, yet 
large enough to cook for four persons, or six in a 
pinch. When packed and locked in its metal crate, 
it measures 103^x18x213^ inches, and can be 
checked as baggage. Inside the fire-box (8 x 10 x 17 
inches) are packed three sections of adjustable 4-inch 
pipe, and two automatic locking bars. Inside the 
oven (73^ x 103^ x 17 inches) there is stowed a 5- 
gallon water reservoir, and with it a set of sheet 
iron and tin cooking utensils and table service for 
six persons. When the stove is in use, the reservoir 
hooks on to the left side of the stove, next to the 
fire box, and increases the stove top to I7 x 28 inches 


This is a most useful addition, since plenty of hot 
water is needed for cooking and in washing up. 

The fire box takes in 1 6-inch wood. The oven is 
large enough for a gx 15-inch bread pan and will 
roast a good-sized fowl. 

Fig. 32. — Small Camp Stove Fig. 33. — Stove Packed 

When the stove is set up, it is mounted on its steel 
crate and the locking bars are attached under the 
oven to form a warming rack. It is not intended 
for tent heating. 

This stove weighs 25 pounds, 
and the reservoir and utensils 
about 15 pounds more. To 
make the pots and pans nest in 
the oven, they are made square 
or rectangular. For fixed camps 
it is best to select your own uten- 
sils, and carry the larger ones in 
a separate box. 

The second stove (Fig. 34) 
is made with fire box extending 
its entire length. It will take 
in a billet 28 inches long, which 
will keep a fire all night, and will be ready for 
cooking five minutes after the dampers are opened 
in the morning. When packed for transportation, 
the stove measures 30 x 14 x 12 inches, and weight 

Fig. 34. — Stove for 
Large Wood 

62 ca:\iping and woodcraft 

29 pounds (43H pounds complete ^^■ith grub box 
and utensils). When set up, the 14 x 30-inch top 
is free for utensils; the oven, above it, takes a 
10 X 14-inch pan for baking or roasting. Oven, 
legs, and pipe stow inside the body of the stove, 
leaving space for a 12 x 13 x 9^-inch galvanized box 
that holds cooking utensils and is used in camp as a 
dish-pan or as a vermin-proof box for provisions. 

A cook-stove with sheet-iron top needs ruD plates. 
If you get one with plates, be sure they are far 

Fig. 36. — Field 
Range (Packed) 

Fig. 35- — Field Range 

enough apart so that the vessels do not interfere 
with each other. 

The third type of stove (Figs. 35, 36) is one reg 
ularly used by our Geological Survey, Forestry Bu- 
reau, and is similar to the Army range, but smaller. 
The No. 4 size, to cook for 6 men, packs, with 
utensils, in a space 12x13x22 inches. The oven 
is 8 X 12 X 12 inches. The range weighs 52 pounds, 
the utensils 20 pounds, and a dining service for six 
persons, in enamel and white or plated metal, 13 
pounds. For continuous field service this is a quite 
practical range. 


Personalh^ I never use a camp stove, preferring to 
cook in the open. 

As for a heating stove in a tent, my experience 
talhes with that of Dr. Breck: "Either it bakes 
you with a temperature of ninety degrees, or it takes 
the first opportunity to go aiit directly ^-ou clo^e 
)'our eyes, and you awake trembh'ng with cold, the 
thermometer registering somewhere 'round zer'o." 
Someone else has called the tent stove ." a portable v 
hell." But there are those who like it/ for, cold- ^ 
weather camping; and I admit that- if the tent is not " * 
less than 10x14, and the stove's fire-box is bi^^ 
enough to take in a thick billet two feet lone, so"^* 
that it will keep a smouldering all-night fire without 
your everlastingly pottering around it, there are 
'iimes and places where a stove in the tent may be a 
good thing. - 

If you do set up a stove, be sure to fix a spark- 
-arrester over the top of the pipe. This need not be 
anything more costly than a piece of wire netting. 

If the stove must be set rather close to the tenl 
Avail, take along a sheet of asbestos as a shield. One 
of the pads used for dining-tables will do very well. 
Such things can be bought at department stores, 01 
of mail-order houses. 

When starting a fire in an " air-tight," use little 
fuel at first, or you will smother the flame in its own 
smoke. If the stove has no legs, make a board 
frame like the sides of a low box, or a crib of notched 
logs, and fill in with gravel. 

Camp Grates and Fire Irons. — A stove is 
merely a convenience and an economizer of fuel. 
Quite as good meals can be cooked over an open 
fire. Even when it rains, a bonfire can be built to 
one side and hard coals shoveled from it to a spot 
sheltered by canvas where the cooking is done. But 
it pays to take along either a folding grate or a pair 
of fire irons to hold the frying-pan, etc., level and 
close over the coals. Then you will need no long 
stick attached to the frving-oan handle, nor must 


the cook give all his attention to that one utensil 
when frying or making pancakes. 

Of folding grates there are many and ingenious 
patterns. I never use any of them ; for they are 
likely to warp from heat or to rust in service, and 
become unmanageable. Simpler, cheaper, and quite 
as useful, are a pair of ** fire-irons," which are sim- 
ply two pieces of flat steel 24 x i ^ x ^^ inches, 
weighing 23^ pounds to the pair, that any black- 
smith will cut for you in a minute. Lay them across 
a couple of logs or flat rocks that are placed on 
either side of the fire. You can space them apart 
to suit vessels of different sizes. They will stand 
any amount of abuse; if they get bent, you can 
quickly hammer them back into shape. 

Ovens. — When there is no stove in the outfit, 
you will need some kind of camp oven. For a fixed 
camp a good kind is the old- 
fashioned Dutch oven (Fig. 
37). How to use it is ex- 
plained in Chapter XX. For 
a party of four to six it should 
be of full 13-inch diameter, 
which will weigh about 17 
pounds. Lighter ones, but 
Fig. 37.— Dutch Oven "^"ch more expensive, are made 
of aluminum with iron tops. 
Aluminum will not stand the high heat necessary 
for the top, but does very well for the body of the 
vessel, if thick enough. 

Such ovens are favorites in the South and the 
Far West. They are better than reflectors (see 
Chapter VII) for any baking or roasting that re- 
quires considerable time (inimitable for pot-roasts 
and baked beans), but rather unhandy for biscuits, 
though all right for biscuit-loaf. 

Other Utensils. — For stationary camps, or for 
traveling by wagon, the most satisfactory material 
for pots and table service is enameled ware. It is 
easier to clean than any other metal, and it is not 


corroded, like tin, by fruits or vegetables steeped, 
cooked or left over in it. The tendency of enameled 
ware to chip and flake in cold weather can be tamed 
by warming gradually before exposing to fierce heat. 

Pressed tinware of heavy gauge is good enough 
for most purposes, though hard to clean when greasy. 
It is unfit to cook tart fruit in, and it makes tea 
*' taste." Thin soldered tinware is treacherous, 
dents and rusts easily, and lasts but a short time. 

Aluminum is needlessly expensive for the class of 
camping we are now considering. 

Where compactness need not be studied, frying- 
pans with stationary handles are more practical than 
the folding kind. 

A complete cooking, washing, and table set, for 
six persons, is listed below. It is heavy (about 58 
pounds, with oven and fire irons, or 38 pounds with- 
out them), but cheap (about $13.50 with, or $10.50 
without oven and irons) and should last a long time. 

Utensils for 6 Persons in Fixed Camp. 

Dutch Oven, cast iron, 13^4x6 in. (omitted if there is 
a stove). 

2 Fire Irons, fiat steel, 24X ij^ x J/^ in. (omitted if there 
is a stove). 

Dish Pan, enameled, 16x5 in. 

Wash Basin, enameled, 13^ in. 

2 Milk Pans, enameled, io)/2 in. (for mixing and serv 

Water Pail, enameled, 10 qt. 

3 Covered Pails, enameled, 3, 4^^ and 6 qt., nesting. 
Double Boiler, enameled, 3^2 qt. 

Coffee Pot, enameled, 3^4 qt. 
Tea Pot, enameled, 2 qt. 
Graduated Measure, enameled, i oK 
2 Frying-pans, steel, 10% i^ 

2 Pot Covers, tin, 10^ in. 
Broiler, wire, 9 x 14 in. 

3 Pot Chains. 

Tea Ball, aluminum. 
Dipper, enameled, i qt. 
Basting Spoon, enameled. 
Skimmer, enameled 
Soup Ladle, enamt'led. 


Cake Turner, steel. 

Butcher Knife, steel. 

Flesh Fork, steel. 

Kitchen Saw, steel. 

Spring Balance, 24 lb. 

Pot Cleaner, wire. 

Can Opener and Corkscrew. 

Salt Shaker. 

Pepper Shaker. 

TO Dinner Plates, white enameled, 8J/^ in. 

6 Cups, white enameled, i pint (handles cut to nest). 

6 Cereal Bowls, white enameled. 

6 Knives, steel. 

6 Forks, white metal. 

6 Teaspoons, white metal. 

6 Dessert Spoons, white metal. 

2 yds. Table Oilcloth. 

2 yds. Turkish Toweling (dish towels and clouts). 

100 Paper Napkins. 

1 bar Sapolio. 

1 bar Fels Naphtha Soap. 

A milk-can should be added if the camp is near a 

FiRELESS Cookers. — A great deal of the bother 
of cooking can be saved by using a fireless cooker, in 
which all of the slow processes are performed (roast- 
ing, baking, stewing, boiling, and making porridge).' 
In this case only a few simple utensils are required, 
a wood stove is dispensed with, and there is no 
need of anyone staying in camp to watch the fire 
and the cooking. The soapstone radiators can be 
heated over an alcohol or blue-flame stove. Hot 
meals can be had at all hours, even when the party 
is traveling. 

A rough-and-ready fireless cooker, which can also 
be used as a cold-storage box, was described some 
years ago in Outing. — 

"When preparing your outfit this summer, pack some 
of your belongings in a soap or cracker box that has a 
fairly close-fitting lid. Take along an old white quilt or 
a blanket that can be folded into a pad to fit the box, or 
make a crude pad out of unbleached muslin with cotton 
batting, about one inch thick. Include in your outfit a 
granit-s cooking pail commensurate in capacity with the 


size of your party. In setting up camp, the soap box is to 
be lined with three or four thicknesses of newspaper (this 
can be done easily with the aid of a few tacks) and 
filled with clean hay or stiaw, packed firmly; and a close 
little nest hollow^ed out to fit the cooking pail. 

This camp fireless cooker has been tested and has 
proved a pleasant luxury as well as a convenience in 
camp life. It makes possible cooked cereals, rice, evap' 
orated fruits and slow-cooking vegetables, where oihei- 
wise they would be excluded from the menu. If ther< 
are children in the party, these things are particularly 
desirable. Keep the soap box in a sheltered place. Let 
the food in the cooking pail begin to boil briskly over 
the camp fire, then remove it, seeing that the cover is 
tightly closed (it should be a cover that shuts in), and 
place it in its hay nest. Tuck over it the cotton pad and 
three or four thicknesses of newspaper and shut down 
the lid of the box. Breakfast cereals may remain in the 
cooker over night. Meat, or slow-cooking foods should 
boil on the camp fire for fifteen minutes before being 
placed in the cooker. 

This will also be found a heat-saving and labor-sav- 
ing device for those housewives who remain at home 
— and it costs almost nothing. 

It is not necessary to have ice for keeping milk cool 
and sweet in hot weather. The fireless-cooker, which 
conserves heat at the boiling point for many hours, will 
also conserve cold, or, more properly, keep heat out. A 
box lined with paper, packed with clean hay, straw or 
shavings and securely covered, is all that is needed. 
The bottle of milk, received ice-cold from the dairy- 
man's wagon and placed directly in this device, will keep 
sweet as long as may be desired." 


Tents were devised long before the dawn of his- 
tory, and they still are used as portable dwellings 
by men of all races and in all climes. Every year 
sees countless campers busy with new contrivances 
in canvas or other tent materials, seeking improve- 
ments — and still the prehistoric patterns hold their 
own. Wherever caravans or armies march, or peo- 
ple travel by wagon, or summer vacationists take to 
a gipsy life, we see wall tents of house shape, or 
conical ones, of heavy canvas. 

But for a small party traveling in rough country, 
with pack animals, or in light water-craft, or per- 
chance afoot, such cumbersome affairs are out of the 

Wherever transportation is difficult it is impera 
live that the tent should be light, compact to carry, 
and, if you are to make camp and break camp every 
day or two, it must be so rigged that it can be set 
up easily and quickly by one or two men. 

The tent should shed heavy rains and stand se- 
curely in a gale. It should keep out insects and 
cold draughts, yet let in plenty of pure air. If cold 
weather is to be encountered, either the tent should 
be fitted with a very portable stove, or it should be 
open in front and so shaped as to reflect the heat of 
a log fire down upon the occupants, yet not smother 
them with smoke. All of which is easily said, but 
harder to combine In fact. Hence the multitude of 
tent patterns. 

In designing a light tent we begin by cuttirux 




down the size to what will " sleep " the occupants 
and their personal duffle. Since the party is to be 
out of doors all day, save in uncommonly bad 
weather, a small tent will suffice. Then we dispense 
with a fly, and make the tent of waterproof material, 
not only to shed rain but also because plain canvas 
is very heavy when wet. If the journey is through 
a well wooded countrj^, no poles or stakes are car- 
ried : they are to be cut on the spot. If, however, 
saplings are scarce in the land, then the tent is made 
to set up with only one pole, and this pole may be 
jointed ; no guy stakes are used, and the pegs are 
light things made of steel, as few as practicable. 

Tents that are to be carried on pack animals need 
to be of strong, heavy duck, or else carried in stout 
bags; otherwise they will be ruined by the sawing 
of lash ropes and snagging or rubbing against trees 
and rocks. For such work the best of army duck is 
none too good. 

Materials for Light Tents. — Otherwise the 
most suitable material is very closely woven stuff 
made from Sea Island or Egyptian cotton, which has 
a long and strong fiber. A thin cloth of this kind 
is stout enough for most purposes, yet very light, and 
a tent made from it rolls up into a much smaller 
bundle than one of duck. It comes in various 
weights and fineness of texture. The standard grade 
of " balloon silk" runs about 3^ oz. to the square 
yard in plain goods, and 5>4 oz. when waterproofed 
with paraffine. This trade name, by the way, is an 
absurdity: the stuff has no thread of silk in it, and 
the only ballooning it ever does is when a wind gets 
under it. 

Cheaper goods, of coarser weave, and intermediate 
in weight between this and duck, do well enough for 
easy trips, if waterproofed. 

Waterproof or Rainproof Cloths. — These 
may be classed under two heads: {A) cloth filled 
with paraffine or other water-shedding substance; 
{B) cloth chemically treated so that each fiber or 


thread is itself repellant of water, but the interstices 
are left open. 

In the first instance it is not practicable to treat 
the cloth before making it up ; the whole tent should 
be soaked in a waterproofing mixture, or the " wax " 
ironed in, thus insuring that the seams are tight. 
Paraffine is used either plain (in which case it iu 
liable to crack or flake in cold weather) or combined 
with some elastic substance. The " mineral wax " 
callea ozocerite or cerasine (often used as a substi- 
tute for beeswax, and sold by dealers in crude drugs) 
is not so brittle as paraffine, adheres better, and, like 
paraffine, has no deleterious action on cloth, being 
chemically neutral. I have not known of it being 
used by tent-makers, but believe they should try it. 
Crude ozocerite is nearly black; when refined it is 
of a yellow color (cerasine) and resembles beeswax 
but is not so sticky. It makes a tough compound 
with rubber. 

The plain wax process renders cloth quite water- 
proof, but adds considerable weight, makes the stuff 
rather stiff, and increases its liability to catch afire, 
when exposed close to a stove or camp-fire. 

Cloth of class B is subdivided in two groups: 

( 1 ) Cravenetted goods, like duxbak and gabar-^, 
dine, are processed in the yarn, or by chemical treat- 
ment applied to the raw strands themselves before 
they are twisted into thread. Such cloth is not so 
waterproof as waxed or oiled stuff, yet tents made 
of it can be depended upon to shed rain. It is as 
pliable as plain cloth, not perceptibly heavier, and is 
not affected by changes of temperature. 

(2) Willesden canvas (or twill, etc., as the case 
may be), also known in England as "green rot- 
proof," is cotton stuff soaked in an ammoniacal solu- 
tion of copper that dissolves enough cellulose in the 
cloth to coat each fiber with a more or less imperme- 
able " skin " of its own substance, and turns the ma- 
terial a light shade of green. It is not so waterproof 
^s waxed cloth, yet sheds rain very well if the mate- 


rial is closely woven. What is known in this coun- 
try as " green waterproof " has gone through the 
cupro-ammonium process and then is lightly waxed 
besides, making it quite waterproof but more pliable 
and slower burning than plain waxed stuff. 

The mills produce many grades of light cloth 
suitable for tenting. Each tent-maker chooses for 
himself, and generally does his own waterproofing. 
In comparing samples, count the number of threads 
to the inch with a magnifying glass, then note weight 
per square yard, and strength. 

Cloth proofed with linseed or other drying oil is 
not strong enough for tenting (for its weight) ; it is 
sticky in hot weather, stiff in cold, and dangerously 

Featherweight Tent Materials. — Pedes- 
trian and cycle campers sometimes go in for the ut- 
most possible lightness and compactness of outfit that 
will serve their purposes. For tents they use the 
most finely woven cotton, linen, or silk, not water- 
proofed, but depending upon extreme closeness of tex- 
ture to shed rain. The cloth may " spray " a little 
in the first heavy downpour, but it will not leak so 
long as nothing rubs it from within. 

I have a sample of very close-woven silky cotton 
stuff from which a Puget Sound tent-maker turns 
out "A" tents complete of the following weights: 
31^x7x4 ft. high, 2 lbs.; 4^x7)^x5 ft., 2^ 
lbs. ; 7>4 X 7>^ x 7 ft., 5 lbs. 

Lightest of all rain-proof materials, strongest for 
its weight, and, of course, most expensive, is silk. 
It can be woven more closely than any other textile 
and so needs no waterproofing (oiled silk, such as 
surgeons use, weighs more than "balloon silk"). 
Genuine silk is the toughest of all fibers ; but it does 
not stand much friction, hence should be reinforced 
at all friction surfaces, and rolled up when packed 
away, not folded in creases. It is unsuitable for any 
but special tents made for pedestrians. A London 
maker, T. H. Holding, sells a tentlette (If I may 


coin a terrr.) of Japanese silk, in wedge shape, 
6 X 5 X 4 ft. 6 in. high, that weighs under I2 ounces; 
and it is a practical little affair of its kind. Of one 
of these he reports: "It has stood some of the 
heaviest rains, in fact records for thirty hours at a 
stretch, without letting in wet, and I say this of an 
li-oz. silk one." 

Waterproofing Cloth at Home. — If one has 
home facilities, there is no reason why he should not 
make a good job of waterproofing for himself. 

Paraffine Process. — The cheapest, simplest, and, in 
some respects, the most satisfactory way is to get a cake 
or two of paraffine or cerasine, lay the tent on a table 
rub the outer side with the wax until it has a good coat- 
ing evenly distributed, then iron the cloth with a medium- 
hot flatiron, which melts the wax and runs it into every 
pore of the cloth. The more closely woven the cloth, the 
less wax and less total weight. 

Some prefer to treat the tent with a solution of paraffine. 
In this case, cut the wax into shavings so it will dis- 
solve readily. Put 2 lbs. of the wax in 2 gallons of tur- 
pentine (for a 7x9 tent or thereabouts). Place the ves- 
sel in a tub of hot water until solution is completed. 
Meantime set up the tent true and taut. Then paint it 
with the hot solution, working rapidly, and using a stiff 
brush. Do this on a sunny morning and let tent stand 
until quite dry. The turpentine adds a certain elasticity 
to the wax; benzine does not. 

For tents to be used in cold weather before an 
open fire, the following process is better: 

Alum and Sugar of Lead. — First soak the tent over- 
night in water to rid it of sizing, and hang up to dry. 
Then get enough soft water to make the solutions (rain- 
water is best; some city waters will do, others are too 
hard). Have two tubs or wash-boilers big enough for 
the purpose. In one, dissolve alum in hot soft water, 
in the proportion of 34 Jt). to the gallon. In the other, 
with the same amount of hot water, dissolve sugar of 
lead (lead acetate — a poison) in the same proportion. the solutions stand until clear; then add the sugar 
of lead solution to the alum liquor. Let stand about four 
hours, or until all the lead sulphate has precipitated. 
Then pour off the clear liquor from the dregs into the 
other tub, thoroughly work the tent in it with the hands 


until every part is quite penetrated, and let soak over- 
night. In the morning, rinse well, stretch, and hang up 
to dry. 

A closely woven cloth should be used. 

This treatment fixes acetate of alumina in the fibers of 
the cloth. The final rinsing is to cleanse the fabric from 
the useless white powder of sulphate of lead that is de- 
posited on it. Failures are usually due to using hard 
water, or a less proportion of alum than here recom- 
mended, or to not dissolving the chemicals separately and 
decanting off the clear liquor. When directions are fol- 
lowed, the cloth will be rain-proof and practically spark- 
proof, but not damp-proof if you use it as a ground-sheet 
to lie on, or if exposed to friction. After a good deal of 
use, the tent will need treating over again, as the mineral 
deposit gradually washes out. 

Remember that cotton goods shrink considerably when 
first soaked. 

Alum and Soap. — Shave up about a pound of laundry 
soap and dissolve it in 2 gallons of hot water. Soak the 
cloth in it, dry out thoroughly, and then soak in an alum 
solution as above, and dry again. 

I have had no success with the alum and lime 
method mentioned by " Nessmuk." 

Good waterproofing compounds can be purchased 
teady-made from some tent-makers. 

The following recipes, although not suitable for 
tents, are useful for other articles of equipment, and 
are included here while on the subject of water- 
proofing cloth: 

Oiled Cloth. — For groupd-sheets to use under bedding: 
get some of the best grade of boiled linseed oil of a 
reputable paint dealer. One quart will cover five or six 
square yards of heavy sheeting. Pour it into a pan big 
■enough to dip your hand into. Lay out the cloth and rub 
the oil into it between your palms, using just enough oil 
at a time to soak the cloth through, filling the pores, but 
leaving no surplus. Then stretch it in a barn or garret, 
or other dry shady place, for one week. Finish drying by 
hanging in the sunlight three or four days, fi .st one side 
up, then the other. 

Flexible Celluloid Coating. — A flexible enamel such 
as is used on fly lines for fishing is also useful for finish- 
ing seams in articles sewed up from waterproofed cloth. 

Get some old photographic films, soak them in hot water, 
and scrub off the gelatine surface with a small stiff brush. 


VVhen they are dry, gradually add them to acetone until 
the solution IS of the consistency of varnish. If a drop 
of It dries transparent and firm, it is fit. In this state 
it makes a strong cement or hard rod varnish that wi I 
not crack or peel. To make it flexible, proceed as 7oL 

Add common benzine to the amount of one-fourth th^ 
acetone. Shake well. Let the mixture sta^d an'set le 
Draw off the clear varnish from the water at the bo^ 
torn, and test as before. If it does not dry clear and firm 
add a little more benzine. ""' 

Now add castor oil to the amount of two-third, the 
weight o the dry celluloid films that havrbeen used 
shake well, and give it time to thoroughly mix Test if 

in^^f:ce;^7=r^^^r ^:^~^ -^^f ^^ 

It us flexibility. ' ^'°' °'' S'^'s 

DvEiNc Cloth.— Use Diamond dye of a kind 
recommended by the makers for eoUon goods. Fol 
mv d,rect,ons on package. Dye tlie tent a deeper 

considerably m sun and rain. The dyeing must be 
done before waterproofing 

CON-STRUCTION OF LiGHT Tents.- In a tent of 

ow rf "' I " i!"r''"' 'hat the widths be nar- 
row, to keep the shelter taut when set up and that 
he seams be remforced with tape, to reliev the c oth 
tself from overstram. Eaves, bottom, and corners 
should be strengthened with double cloth 

U there IS a ridge, have it reinforced with tines 


the?e"t\S alLed-i^. itt'' ^' ='™""^' ""'^ 

A tent that is to be used in "fly ti-ie " 's cer- 

rtbMnTt"'"' Yf"'' ^ curtain'of -cheesecloth 

used l.,te m the season „-,th an all-night fire in front 
All tents that are made to close up at night or in 


bad weather should be fitted with screened windows 
for ventilation. The smaller the tent, the greater 
the need of this. 

Guy-rope slides, if there are any, should be or gal- 
vanized wire. Grommets (galvanized iron rings 
worked in by hand) are much better than brass eye- 
lets which are likely to pull out. 

Ropes and beckets are to be small but strong; 
braided sash cord is best for a ridge rope. 

Tent pins of steel are more durable and less 
cumbersome than wooden ones. In well forested 
countries none need be carried, but four steel cornet 
pins help in setting up the tent quickly. 


Local conditions, means of transportation, and size 
of party, are to be considered in choosing among the 
many tent models that have been designed for camp- 
ers who travel light. All depends on where you go, 
when you go, how you go, and what you want to do. 
The perfect all-round tent is a myth, like the perfect 
all-round gun. Of one thing, though, be sure: that 
whatever rig you choose shall be stanch against 
wind. The utmost pinnacle of comfort is reached 
when one lies at night under canvas, with a storm 
roaring toward him through the forest, and chortles 
over the certainty that no wind can blow his tent 
down. And it takes just one second of parting guys 
and ripping cloth to tumble him off his perch and 
cast him headlong into the very depths of woe. 

Light Wall Tents. — A wall tent is the favor- 
ite cloth shelter of soldiers, engineers, explorers, nat- 
uralists, trappers, loggers, and other practical men 
who live away from civilization a great deal of the 
time. For one thing, it gives the most head-room 
for a given amount of material ; and that counts, 
especially in continuous bad weather, or when one 
comes in wet all over and wants to hang up his 
clothes to dry. It is the best form of tent if a stove 
is carried ; and that may be necessary in a thinly 
wooded country, late in the season. The vertical 
ends permit large ventilators or windows that may 
be kept open in almost any weather. There is no 
waste space, as in tents without walls. 

Wall tents for flying camps should be much 
lighter, of course, than those mentioned in Chapter 



III. In wooded country they are to be set up with 
shears, as previously described t or, if the ground 
favors, and a quick set is desired, run a ridge rope 
from tree to tree, or from a tree to a stake, stretch 
the guys, and do not bother to pin down the bottom 
but simply weight the sod-cloth. 

Light waterproof wall tents may be had in great 
variety of sizes and materials, from which the fol- 
lowing are selected as examples (width, depth, 
height, and wall, in order given) : 

Balloon Silk (white). 

iVzy^ iVz^l -2 10^ lbs. 

S^x 8^x7^-3 14^ lbs. 

1034x10^x8^-3^20 lbs. 

Tanalite (tan), Emeralite (green). 

7x7x7-2 10 lbs. 

8J^x 8^x73^-3 14 lbs. 

10 X 10 x8J^-3^ 19 lbs. 

Tang (tan), Nilo (green). 
73^ X 73^x7-2 9 lbs. 
73^ X 9 X 7-23/2 II lbs. 
9 X 12 X 7-2 3/^ 13 lbs. 

Kiro (olive drab). 

7 X 7 X 7-23/2 123^2 lbs. 
93^x11^x8-3 20^ lbs. 

11^x14 x9-33^ 27 lbs. 

Extra Light Green. 
6>4x 63^x6 -2 7 lbs. 

8 X 8 X 7 -23/2 10 lbs. 
93^x93^x73^-3 133/2 lbs. 

Green Egyptian. 

7/^ X 73^ X 7-2 93^ lbs. 
9^x 9^x8-334 16^ lbs. 
9^xi2>^x8-3^ 19 lbs. 

Green Standard. 

7^^ X 7^^, x 7 -2 12 lbs, 

9^x 9^x8 -334 19'/' lbs. 

TiM X ii-M X 9^4-334 273/^ lbs. 


All of the above-named tents have tape ridges that 
can be tied to outside poles, and are fitted with sod- 

Smaller, and larger, and intermediate sizes are 
made ; but if a lighter shelter is w^anted it is gener- 
ally best to choose some other shape than a wall 
tent; and, if a larger one, then use heavier material 
that w^ill stand up better and endure more strain. 

Directions for setting up wall tents are given in 
Chapter III (see especially Figs, ii, 15). 

Conical Tents. — A tent may be " light " abso- 
lutely (so many pounds all told) or relatively (so 

Fig. 38.— U. S. A. Conical Tent 

many pounds per man sheltered). Conical tents of 
military pattern, such as the old Sibley, the present 
U. S. A., and the Bell tent of the British service, be- 
long to the latter class. 

The U. S. Army conical wall tent (Fig. 38) is 
16 ft. 5 in. in diameter, 10 ft. high, and has a 3-ft. 
wall. It is erected by a single pole, the butt of 
which fits into a folding steel tripod, thus shortening 
the pole and giving it better bearing. At the top is 
an opening shielded by flaps. It is heated by a bot- 
tomless cone-shaped stove of 2-ft. diameter at the 
bas^. (Fig» 39) with 5-in. pipe. This stove con- 



Fig- 39- — Sibley Tent 

sumes little fuel. It is fed with sticks stood on end 
(dn^ "cow chips" will do), and the draught is 
regulated by banking earth around the bottom. 
Such a tent is room)- and comfortable for eight men 
in any weather. It will 
shelter a dozen or more at a 

A conical tent is best for 
a party traveling on the 
plains, where violent wind- 
storms or cloud-bursts or 
blizzards may suddenly be 
encountered, and w^here there 
is little or no timber. A 
cone sheds winds and rain 
better than any other shape, 
as it has a steep pitch and 
equal bracing in all direc- 
tions. On the other hand, it 
is not fit for rough grounds; 
unless the site is smooth and level the tent bottonnt 
will gape in some places and sag in others. A con- 
ical tent cannot be set up properly without a full 
set of pegs, and it requires many of them. 

Smaller and lighter conical tents are made for^ 
various tastes ; but no tent of this shape should be of 
less diameter than 13 feet with wall, or 14 feet with- 
out one; for the occupants are supposed to lie like 
spokes of a wheel, and their feet must not come too 
near the center pole. 

The army conical wall tent is usually pitched by 
eight men, of whom the director is designated as 
No. 8. They w^ork as follows : 

Upon the hood lines of the tent are placed three marks; 
the first about 8 feet 3 inches, the second about 11 feet 3 
inches, the third about 14 feet 2 inches from the hcod 
ring; the first marks the distance from the center to the 
wall pins, the second to the guy pins, and the distance 
between the second and third is the distance between guy 
pins. These distances vary slightly for different tents 
and should be verified by actual experiment before per- 


manently marking the ropes. To locate the position of 
guy pins after the first, the hood ring being held on the 
center pin, with the left hand hold the outer mark on 
the pin last set, with the right hand grasp the rope at 
the center mark and move the hand to ihe right so as to 
have both sections of the rope taut; the center mark 
is then over the position desired; the inner mark is over 
the position of the corresponding wall pin. 

To pitch the tent, No. i places the tent pole on the 
ground, socket end against the door pin, pole perpendicu- 
lar to the company street. No. 2 drives the center pin at 
the other extremity of the pole. No. 3 drives a wall pin 
on each side of and i foot from the door pin. No. 4 
places the open tripod fiat on the ground with its center 
near the center pin. The whole detachment then places 
the tent, fully opened, on the ground it is to occupy, the 
center at the center pin, the door at the door pin. 

No. 8 holds the hood ring on the center pin, and super- 
intends from that position. No. i stretches the hood rope 
over the right (facing the tent) wall pin and No. 2 
drives the first guy pin at the middle mark. No. i marks 
the position of the guy pins in succession and No. 2 drives 
a pin lightly in each position as soon as marked. At 
the same time No. 5 inserts small pins in succession 
through the wall loops and places the pins in position 
against the inner mark on the hood rope, where they 
are partly driven by No. 6. No. 4 distributes large pins 
ahead of Nos. i and 2; No. 7, small pins ahead of Nos. 
5 and 6; No. 3 follows Nos. i and 2 and drives the guy 
pins home. No. 7, after distributing his pins, takes an 
ax and drives home the pins behind Nos. 5 and 6. No. 4, 
after distributing his pins, follows No. 3 and loops the 
guy ropes over the pins. 

Nos. I, 2, and 3, the pins being driven, slip under the 
tent and place the pin of the pole through the tent and 
hood rings while No. 8 places the hood in position. Nos. 
I, 2, and 3 then raise the pole to a vertical position and 
insert the end in the socket of the tripod; they then 
raise the tripod to its proper height, keeping the center 
or the tripod over the center pin; while they hold the 
pole vertical. Nos. 4, 5, 6, and 7 adjust four guy ropes, 
one in each quadrant of the tent, to hold the pole in its 
vertical position, and then the remaining guy ropes. As 
soon as these are adjusted the men inside drive a 
pin at each foot of the tripod if necessary to hold it in 

The tent may also be pitched by four men. No. 4 holds 
the hood ring and superintends. After the tent is in 
position on the ground it is to occupy, the pins are dis- 
tributed by Nos. 2 and 3. Number 3 takes the place of 


Nos. 5 and 6 in placing the wall loop pins. After all the 
pins are placed they are driven home, all assisting. 

This takes a long time to describe, but the thing 
is done in a jiffy. 

Teepees. — The teepee (pronounced tee-pee) of 
the plains Indians was an admirable shelter for the 
country they roamed over. Being of conical shape, 
and erected on a set of inside poles meeting at the top 
and with their butts radiating in every direction, it 
was proof against anything but a tornado. A very 
small fire in the center sufficed to keep it warm, and 
the smoke was wafted out of a hole at the top by an 
ingenious arrangement of flaps set according to the 
direction of the wind, in combination with an inner 
curtain around the bottom of the teepee, a little 
higher than a man's head, with its lower edge con- 
fined like a sod-cloth. The draught, entering freely 
through the gaps between tent pegs, emerged at top 
of curtain, and was drawn " a-fluking " upward by 
the warm current of air from the fire.* It has been 
said that no white man can manage a fire in a teepee 
without smoking the occupants out. This is an 
error: I have done it myself; but I had the best of 
dry wood in plenty, and I gave that fire more atten- 
tion than it deserved. 

The beauty of the teepee is that there is no center 
pole in the way. However, it needs at least nine 
lodge poles, and they should be slender, stiff, and 
straight. This rules it out of consideration by camp- 
ers generally. Remember, too, that the real Indian 
teepee was made of skins, impermeable to wind and 
proof against sparks. Under modern conditions, if 
you must have a fire in your tent, use a stove. 

Pyramidal Tents. — For a party of only two or 
three, traveling light, in a region where trees and 
saplings are scarce, as on the plains, or the coast, or 
in the mountains above timber-line, and where storms 

* For details and illustrations see Edward Cave's The Boy's 
Camp Book, pp. 31-33- 


may be violent, there Is nothing better than a pyrzv 
midal or ''miner's" tent (Fig. 40). It requires 
only one pole, and but few pegs. It has more avail- 
able ground space than a conical tent of equal cubic 
capacity. It Is economical of cloth. Next to the 
cone. It Is the most stable form of tent, and it sheds 
rain and snow better than any other. One man, 
without assistance, can set it up In a trice. It sets 
well on uneven ground, and is easy to trench. 

Pyramidal tents may be had with walls; but they 
are not nearly so easy to erect as one without a wall, 

Fig. 40. — Miner's Tent 

and many more pegs must be carried. This shape is 
at its best in the plain miner's form of a size suitable 
for two or three men : namely, a 7x7x7 or a 
9/^ X 93/2 x8^ ft., weighing, In different materials, 
from 534 to 14 lbs. A jointed pole of ash will 
weigh about 4^ lbs. In 7-ft., or 5 lbs. in 8^ ft. 
length, and a dozen 9-Inch steel tent pins about 2 lbs. 
Since the only head-room in such a tent is directly 
under the peak, a center pole Is constantly in the 
way. If a little extra weight is not prohibited, it is 
better to carry a pair of jointed shear poles that set 
up inside the tent, one on either side, like two legs 



of a tripod. Of course, if poles can be found near 
camp, the tent may be erected on outside shears or 
tripod. For this purpose, or for suspending from 

Fig. 41. — Frazer Tent 

R limb, it should have a strong canvas loop sewed to 
ihe peak. 

If the tent is to be used on a sandy coast or desert. 

Fig. 42. — Marquee 

or where insects are very bad, it is best made with a 
ground-cloth sewed fast to the bottom, or with a 
separate one that fits over a rather wide sod-cloth. 


The Frazer tent (Fig. 41) has a small awning 
to shield the doorway, and a cloth " sill " that holds' 
the bottom together. There is a window at the 
rear. Only a small screen is required at the door- 
way to keep out insects, yet the ventilation is good. 
It is not a cold-weather tent, as it cannot be thrown 
wide open, like a plain miner's tent, to receive the 
rays of a camp-fire. 

Some canoeists in *' civilized waters '* prefer the 
marquee (Fig. 42), because it has more head-room 
than a pyramidal tent. It has spreaders attached to 
the center pole, like ribs of an umbrella, to extend the 
eaves, and guy ropes to stiffen them against wind; 
but in spite of these braces it is not very stable. 

Semi-pyramidal Tents. — The lightest of en- 
closed tents that allow a man to stand upright under 
shelter is one shaped like a pyramid cut vertically in 

Fig. 43. — George Tent 

half. Since the pole, if one is used, stands in front, 
it is less in the way than the center pole of a pyra- 
niidal tent, bi't a suy or two must be run out for- 


ward to brace it. A better rig, when poles can be 
cut on the spot, is an outside tripod (as an example 
see Fig. 66). If a small tree happens to stand con- 
veniently on the camp site, the tent peak can be sus- 
pended from it. 

A good example of this model is the George tent 
(Figs. 43, 44). For two men, its dimensions are 
7x7x7 ft. In waterproofed " balloon silk " it 
weighs about 5^ lbs., including pegs, and rolls up 
into a parcel 12x5 in., convenient for the knap- 
sack. To pitch it: Peg down at i and 2 (Fig. 44), 


Fig. 44. — Layout of George Tent 

carry 3 and 6 at right angles to i and 2, pull taut, 
peg down, insert pole, and raise ; or suspend as above. 
This is done in one minute, if no poles have to be 
cut. A cheesecloth front is needed in fly time. In 
cold weather the front is left open, and the sloping 
back and sides reflect camp-fire heat down upon the 

Semi-pyramidal tents must be wtW guyed to stand 
up in a contrary wind. They are best suited to 
canoeists and forest cruisers. 

Modified Pyramid Tent. — A shelter tent 
adaptable to varied conditions, and a very good 
model for " go light " trips, was recently described in 
Outing by its designer, R. S. Royce. His article is 
here reprinted in full, by permission of the publish- 



" Several seasons ago, desiring a very light tent for 
side trips, or, in fact, anywhere that a comfortable shelter 
was needed under conditions which would not permit of 
using a wall tent, one was designed which so well met 
all requirements and aroused so much interest among 
the outing brotherhood as to warrant presenting a de- 
tailed description of it. 

Keeping away from the idea of a mere shelter to 
crawl under, and insisting on having something really 
comfortable in the event of several stormy days or nights^ 
and with a spirit of comradeship that finds more fun 
in an outing shared by one or two friends, rather than 
alone, a tent was designed to afford room for two or 
three and high enough to sit, dress, or stand in. 

This sounds like something too big for the ruck-sack, 
or a minor corner of a pack-basket, without crowding the 
other essentials of going light. However, it was accom- 
plished at a weight of four pounds, making a package 
about 6 inches in diameter and 12 inches long for carry- 
ing; erected, it covers 56 square feet, as a closed half 
pyramid 7 feet 9 inches high and y^^^ feet square (Fig. 
45). But this is not all, for it is extensible to a pyramid 
7^2x13 feet, still 7 feet 9 inches high, but open at one 
end to the peak (Fig. 47) ; or it may be extended at the 
front of the half pyramid in a triangle the width of the 
tent, 73^x2^ feet, closing completely and increasing the 
length of the tent to lo feet (Fig. 46). The objection is 
immediately presented that this is too large a tent for go- 
ing even moderately light, but one may reasonably ask 
^ovv much smaller package or lighter can you take, and 
get room for standing, sitting, and sleeping.'' 

Considering this, first, as a half pyramid tent, 7^ x 
iVz and 7^^ feet high; no form gives so much ground 
opace with headroom from so little material as a pyramid; 
none sheds water better, nor resists wind so well, and 
none is simpler or quicker to erect. 

The objections to a pyramid, of scant headroom and 
lost space on ground by rapidly sloping roofs; of pres- 
ence of pole in the center, and of possible rain leak any- 
where on the entrance side from peak to ground, are 
largely overcome by carrying the peak to 7^ feet, giving 
more headroom and nearer perpendicular roofs; and by 
making the peak over the center of one side, instead of in 
the middle of the tent, giving a perpendicular entrance 
opening and no pole in the ground space. This gives bet- 
ler than a 45-degree pitch to the back roof and about 
65-degree pitch to the side roofs: sheds rain well. 



withoul: necessary recourse to waterproofing, and allows 
of erection not only over a single upright pole, or suspen- 
sion from overhanging branch, but also permits of setting 
up near any upright tree to which the peak-line may be 
extended diagonally upward in a general line with the 
slope of the back roof, thus generally eliminating the tent- 
pole problem. 

Now, some of the arguments for this half pyramid be- 

Fig. 45, — Front Upright Fig. 46. 

-Wings Advanced 
2>4 feet 

iF'ig. 47 — Wings Extended Fig. 48. — One Wing Closed, 
sheltering 73/2x13 feet One Open for Wind-break 

Fig. 49. — One Wing Partly 

RoYCE Tent 

ing given, another exists in the use of it with the front 
open (flaps turned away back on the side roofs), when it 
proves to be as truly a baker tent as the one usually de- 
scribed as such, and heats well wnth a fire in front. 

The peculiar feature of this design is in the extra size 
and the form of the flaps, which make possible the tri- 
angular extension of the front for 2^ feet and still clos- 
ing completely; and the further extension of the flaps, in 
plane with the side roofs, leaving an open-ended tvue 


pyramid 7^^x13 feet, at an increase of only aVioo yards 
of material and not over one-quarter pound weight, over 
that required for the simple half pyramid 7^/^ feet squ', 
barely closed. . • r 

This is worth while for most of us, for it permits oi 
considerable extra room at practically no expense of 
weight or material, and allows of use in a variety of 
ways otherwise impossible: viz., the flaps extended conti- 
pletely, in plane with the side, leave an unroofed tri- 
angle/within which a fire may be built, aJlowing the 
camper to sit under either flap, and, protected, manipulate 
his frying pan, etc.; or one may be so extended and the 
other closed, affording a wind and rain protection with 
good ventilation (Fig. 48), or one may be closed and 
the other extended 2^ feet (as for triangular front), 
leaving an open doorway without disclosing to view the 
interior, on account of the extra wide flaps (Fig. 49). 

Another peculiarity is that in the event of finding 
only a short tent-pole and no tree to tie to, the tent may 
be set up vvith any height pole, under 'jYz feet, and dress 
taut and trim, and, incidentally, cover a larger ground 
space, but, of course, at cost of less pitch to the roofs. 
The front being open clear to the peak, and all lines con- 
verging there, it is very easily cleared of insects by brush 
or smudge. 

Of course, any pyramid tent, without perpendicular side 
walls, is free from the need of stakes, as only short pegs 
are necessary; when a quick shelter is needed, the peak- 
line over a branch or to a tree and pegs at the four 
corners will serve until it is convenient to place the inter- 
mediate pegs. 

So many inquiries as to the details of this tent hav^ 
been made, and so many requests for measurements and 
directions for making copies of it have occurred, that 
diagrams and measurements are here given. 

Any tent-maker can reproduce it, for amateurs have, 
and it lends itself easily to those who enjoy making their 
own equipment. 

The original is made of Lonsdale cambric and lightly 
waterproofed, and weighs only four pounds. It has had 
hard usage and has proved altogether satisfactory. Any 
thin material closely woven will serve, and that, too, 
without waterproofing, with roofs so steep. 

Sheeting is practical, but would give a weight in excess 
of that quoted here. 


Mateiial: Light, closely-woven cambric or other close 
(iiaterial, 36 inches wide. 



Dimensions: Seven feet 6 inches square on ground and 
7 feet 9 inches high to peak. 

Form: Half pyramid. Front "A," perpendicular; 
roof sloping three ways from pointed peak. Front flaps 
or wings are made to overlap considerably, and are longer 
than are necessary to reach the ground when closed per- 


Join two breadths 10' 4" long by edges, overlaid and 
double-stitched. Pin these out on floor smooth, and from 
point i' 9" from end on one side to point same distance 
from other end of other side pin down a cord tight; close 
*it either side of cord pin or baste a narrow tape, leaving 

Fig. 50 

tapes which cross the edges about two feet longer. Stitch 
these tapes down and divide goods in line between tapes. 
Sew to i' 9" edge the selvage edge of a triangle i' 9" by 
1' 6" and sew tape to bias edge. These two triangles are 
the two side roofs. 


Pin out smooth one breadth 13' long, and between points 
2' 2^" from each end on opposite side edges draw line or 
pin tight cord and sew tapes either side of line, leaving 
tapes which cross the edges two feet longer. Against 


these edges and to the tapes sew triangles 2' 2" by 9". 
Divide the goods between the tapes. These two triangles 
to be turned with selvage edges together and when joined 
form the back roof. 

Fig. 51 

This is to permit extending the front 2^ feet triangu- 
larly and still closing it tight; also allowing the wings 
to be extended 5 feet 6 inches in plane with the side 
roofs, producing a pyramid 13 feet by 7^/2 feet open at one 
end to the peak. 


Pin out one breadth 8' 7/^" long. From one corner to 
point on opposite side, and 3' 10J/2" from the opposite end 



^j^ouf^o ufr>fS t^Herry/ open 

Fig. 52 

draw line and sew tape on side of line toward larger piece, 
leaving tape about 4' 9" longer than reaching to the sel- 


vage edge. Against this 3' 10^" selvage edge sew tri- 
angle cut from other side of line, using right angled tri- 
angle 3' lo^" by 2' 6", binding bias edge with over- 
hanging tape. This makes only one flap or wing Dupli- 


Join to each diagonal edge of the back one of ttie 
diagonal edges of each sidepiece; and to the selvage edge 
of each side-piece a selvage edge of one of the wings. 

Close the peak around a 54"inch metal ring. Leave 
front wings open clear to peak. Turn in ground edge a 
little all around and attach strong tape loops for pegs at 
corners and five between on each side and back and four 
on bottom of each wing; also on a line from lower at- 
tached corner of each wing to a point 2 feet up from 
bottom of free edge of each wing put four loops on outside 
and again on a line from corner to a point 4 inches still 
higher four more loops. These loops are for pegging 
down wings in the three positions of extension in plane 
with sides, in partial extension, and when closed with 
perpendicular front. 

If sod- ;loth is desired, a breadth of cloth 7^ feet long 
split in three strips will make about a lo-inch sod cloth if 
attached to low^er edge of sides and back before putting 
on a heavy tape which will finish the lower edge. No 
sod-cloth is needed at front as wings will turn in suf- 
ficient in all positions except when fully extended. 

For light tent, flap-ties are best of tape and should be 
spaced along the free edges of each wing and also at 
line where edges fall when overlapped so as to make front 
bottom line of tent measure 7^ feet. Wings need hem 
or tape for free edges. A 5^-inch braided cord 15 feet 
long is needed from peak where it can be attached to a 
metal ring just too large to pull through the peak ring. 
From this inside ring it is well to lead like cords down 
to the back corners of the tent and out through eyelet-holes 
through the sod-cloth just under the corner peg-loops. 
These two add to the trimness of tent, especially if of 
very light material, and can be run to front corners as 
well, if desired. 


36-inch wide stuff ^oYz yards. 

5^-inch tape 75 feet. 

^-inch tape for bottom edge 23 feet. 

^ cord, peak 15 feet 1 f^^^^ 

Vs, cord 2 back seams 25 J 


Wedge or " A " Tents. — The wedge tent Is 
m " old stand-by " for those who go where portages 
must be made or camp shifted every day or twoc 
It is light, cheap, easy to pitch with or without poles, 
and is well adapted to uneven ground. 

In wooded country the camper often may find two 
trees or saplings from which to stretch a rope, above 
the level of his head, where it is out of the way. 
The tent is then pegged out and suspended by its 
ridge from the rope. This is a quick and satisfac- 

Fig. 53. — Wedge Tent, Outside Ridge Rope 

tory *' set " in level forest. On rough ground it may 
be hard to find a place for the tent with trees grow- 
ing just where you want them. 

Common wedge tents are made with rope running 
through, under the ridge. The ridge then sags in 
what engineers call a catenary curve. This makes 
the sides sag inward, reducing the roominess all 
around, and the wind makes matters worse. A bet- 
ter plan is to have tapes on the outside of the ridge. 
(Fig- 53) > run the rope high and taut, then tie the 


middle tapes closer to the rope than the outer 

The bottom of a wedge tent with rope ridge should 
be pegged in such way that the sides will be in arcs of 
a circle, instead of straight along the ground (Fig. 
54) : this takes up slack. The ground-cloth, if there 

Fig- 54- — Pegging Bottom of Tent 

is one, should be cut accordingly. The thinner the 
material, the more a tent will sag when erected with- 
out a ridge pole. Partially to obviate this, and to 
stiffen the tent in a gale, it is a good scheme to at- 
tach parrels (Figs. 55, 58) to ropes or strong seams 
in the sides. These pull outward and turn the 

Fig. 55. — Side Parrels 

wedge into a semi-wall tent. Referring to Fig 55, 
C shows the theoretically straight side of a wedge 
tent and E the actual inward sag from ridge droop 
and wind pressure. The dotted line F indicates the 
opposite side without parrels, and A is the same wall 
held out and made taut by the parrels BG. The 


illustration is adapted from one by T. H. Holding, 
of London. 

Where no trees stand convenientl}^, a forked stake 
can be placed at each end of the tent, the rope run 
over the crotches and staked out as a guy fore and 
aft; but the front guy is much in the way. It is bet- 
ter to set up shears and a ridge pole, as in Fig .11. 
Often a natural support can be found for one end 
of the pole. 

When traveling w^here there are few or no trees, 
it will be necessary to carry jointed poles of wood, 
steel, or bamboo. There may as well be three of 
these, so that two can be straddled to leave the door- 
way free. A jointed ridge pole makes the tent stand 
trimmer ; but, if all that weight can be carried, the 
party had better take a wall tent and be comfort- 

Wedge tents are not recommended in sizes larger 
than about 7 x 7 x 7 f t. Weights of a few examples 
are as follows: 

Tanalite, Emeralite Extra Light Greeist 

473x7x5. 6 lbs. 4^x6^x5. 5 lbs. 

7 X7X7. 8 lbs. 6>4x6>^x7. 6^ lbs. 
Balloon silk a bit heavier. 

Tang, Nilo Green Egyptian. 

4]^ X 7^x5. 4^ lbs. 5 X7>^x5. 6>^ lbs. 

7)^x7^x7. 714 lbs. 7^x773x7. 9>^ lbs. 

The alpine tent shown in Fig. 58 was designed by 
Edward Whymper, and has been used by many other 
famous mountaineers, such as Sir Martin Conway, 
Douglas Freshfield, Dr. Hunter Workman, and the 
Duke of the Abruzzi, for exploration among the 
highest mountains of the globe. It is made of 
Willesden canvas or drill, with a sewed-in ground- 
sheet, and a " sill " at the door, to cut out draughts 
?<nd ground chill. Few pegs are required. When 
the floor is stretched taut, every peg finds its proper 
place. The poles form shears at each end, over 


-which the ridge rope is guyed out fore and aft 

is a very stanch " set." The standard size 

7 X 7 X 65^ ft. 




Fig. 56. — Whymper Alpine Tent 

Modified Wedge Tents. — An angular lap or 
extension may be added to the lower edge of each 
door flap to serve as a wind shield for a cooking fire 
in bad weather. If the rear end of a wedge tent is 
made rounded instead of square, extra room foi 
duffle is provided, with little additional weight. 

The Hudson Bay tent (Fig 57) saves weight b) 

Fig' 57- — Hudson Bay Tent 

having both ends rounded and the ridge short. It 
does not sag so much as a regular wedge tent, and is 
more stable in a wind, but affords less head-room. 


To get more head-room In a tent without walls, 
the Ross alpine tent (Fig. 58) is fitted over a sec- 
tional bent frame. It has side parrels, and a door 
at each end. The dimensions are 7 x 7 x 6^ ft. 

Fig. 58. — Ross Alpine Tent 

Separable Shelter Tents. — When men travel 
in pairs, going light, it is a good plan for each to 
carry a " shelter-half," adequate to protect him if 
he should become separated from his companion, and 
so fitted with ridge flap and tapes that it can quickly 
be attached to its mate to form a low, broad wedge 


Fig' 59' — Separable Shelter Tent 

The old-fashioned army shelter half was merely a 
rectangle of 73^- or 8-oz. duck, two of which, but- 
toned together, made an A-shaped roof open at both 



ends. It was little protection against shifting winds. 
In the present military shelter tent, the halves, when 
joined, close at the rear end, which is lower than 
the front. A rifle stood up at the front is all the 
support needed, and it can instantly be recovered for 
emergency use bv kicking the butt tree. 

For hikers, etc., a good separable tent consists of 
two lean-tos that close at both ends when joined 
(Fig. 59). Sometimes these halves are made with a 
12 to 18-inch wall (Fig 60). Each half should be 

Fig. 60.— Shelter Half with Wall 

about 7 ft. long, 3^ or 3^ ft. wide, and 4.% ft. 
high, weighing about 3j^ lbs. 

Shelter Cloths. — For side trips from camp, a 
simple rectangle of thin, closely woven waterproof 
cloth, with grommets and tapes, is all one needs in 
moderate weather. Set it up at an angle, facing the 
fire, and, if need be, thatch one or both sides with 
evergreen boughs or other windbreak. The cloth is 
useful as a " tarp " about camp and as a wrap for 
packs on the trail. One that I use, of Tanalite, 
7 X Q ft., weighs 25^ lbs. Set up with a 9-ft. slant, 


it stands 6 ft. high In front and shelters 7x5 ft. of 
ground. A small pyramidal mosquito bar should be 
taken along in summer. 

Tarpaulin Tent. — A larger shelter cloth cut 
as in Fig. 61, the seams reinforced with tapes, beck- 
ets for tent pins added along three sides, and door 
tapes along the other, as indicated, has many uses. 
It serves, as one wishes, either for a simple lean-to 
shelter, a wedge tent open at both ends, a semi- 
pyramidal enclosed tent, a dining fly, a tarpaulin, a 
ground-sheet, a pack-cloth, or an emergency sail on a 

Fig. 61. — Tarpaulin Tent 

boat. Referrmg to the diagram, it will be seen that 
when the triangular corners A and B are tucked 
under we have practically the George tent, and the 
cloth is erected in the same way. 

These " tarp " tents are furnished by outfitters 
ready-made, in various materials, and in sizes from 
73^x12 to 10x13 ft., making semi-pyramidal 
shelters from 4^ x9x6 to J xy x 6^ ft., water- 
proofed, weighing from 3^ to 6^ lbs. Full direc- 
tions for making one at home are given in The Boy 
Scout's Hike Book by Edward Cave. 

Baker Tent. — For a light tent in the hunting 
season. East or South, I prefer one with a shed-roof, 
rear wall, and a front that can be closed when one is 
away for the day, or when a contrary wind springs 
up with driving rain. Usually the front is left open, 
and in cold weather a good fire with back-logs of 



green wood is kept going all night, about five feet in 
front of the tent. Of course, this takes a lot of 
wood, a good-sized hardwood tree being consumed 
in a single night, and the labor of chopping is rather 
severe to any one but a good axeman ; but the work 
is well repaid by the exquisite comfort of lying be- 
fore the blazing backlogs on a cold night, warm as 
toast, and breathing deeply the fresh air of the for- 
est. Such a tent is never damp and cheerless, as 
closed tents are apt to be. The heat rays are re- 
flected downward by the sloping roof, drying the 
ground and warming one's bed in a comparatively 
short time. 

Fig. 62. — Baker Tent 

A baker tent may be set up on shears (Fig. 62), 
or on stakes (Fig. 63), or on a pole nailed from one 
tree to another, or in various other ways suggested 
by the location. At the rear a stake is driven for 
each corner guy and a pole laid outside it, on the 
ground, to which the other guys are made fast; or a 
frame is made. 

If the door is stretched straight forward as shown 
in these illustrations, it will prevent having a fire 
close in front where it should be. Ordinarily the 


flap is thrown backward over the roof when a camp- 
fire is going. A long pole on each side of the tent, 
run diagonally upward from rear to front, will lift 
the awning high enough to be out of the way. How- 
ever, I prefer to have the door-flap separate, and so 
fitted with grommets or eyelets that it can be at- 
tached either to the top or to one side of the tent, as 
preferred. In warm weather, when no all-night fire 
is needed, it may be hung from the top as an awning, 
and the tent may be closed up by it when the occu- 
pants are away; but on nights when a fire is kept 
going the flap should be stretched forward vertically 
from the windward side of the tent front, so as to 

Fig. 63. — Camp-fire Tent 

check the draught from that direction, and the fire 
should be built close to the tent, the front of which 
is left wide open. 

A fall of snow on the roof of an ordinary baker 
tent may cause trouble, unless an outside framework 
has been built and thatched with browse. The 
camp-fire tent (Fig. 63) has a steeper roof, which 
sheds rain and snow much better, and it affords more 
head-room without increased weight. This is the 
best pattern of baker tent. Sizes and weights of 
some examples are as follows, the dimensions being 
width, depth, height of front, center, and back, in 
turn : 

FYFES OF LlGJti^' lEN lb lOi 

Extra Light Ga£o^ 

6^x6^x6-7 -a^'O^s. 

Green EgyptiA^^ ^ V' v> 
yVsx 7^x6 -7^2-2^. <^r^\^Q 

9^x7^^x6-7^-2]^. i5#s«5* Q ^. 

Green Wpf. Standard *^ vSyvt- vX 

7^x7^x6-7^-2/2. 14 Ibs*^ v.'^^'^J^ 
9^ X 73^ X 6 - 7]^ - 2/. 16/ lbs. "^ V^"*^^ 

Weight in other materials may be judged from tables 
previously given of other patterns of tents. 

One advantage of the baker or camp-fire type is 
that, in rainy weather, one has a dry, open space to 
move around in, and he can cook under shelter by 
building a small fire under the awning and feeding It 
a little at a time. 

Such a tent is good for commissary quarters in 
fixed camp, as it is open and handy to work under. 
It is not recommended for parties that move fre- 
quently, nor for " bad fly-country." 

But in a cool climate, where wood Is plentiful and 
mosquitoes scarce, then for me the open lean-to or 
baker tent, before a hardwood fire, with the free 
breath of the forest filling my lungs! Let the sleet 
drive ; let the mercury go where it llsteth ; my axe Is 
my weapon against old Jack Frost. For me, a hunt- 
er's camp without a good log fire, burning all the 
night. Is just no camp at all. 

But understand : all my camping has been where 
I was free as an Indian to do with the forest what- 
ever I pleased. I could cut down and burn any tree, 
any number of them — sweet birch, hickory, white 
ash, sugar maple, anything — heedless of what such 
timber might be worth If ever it got to market. I 
could burn choice wood when I did not need fire; 
burn just for the incense and comradry of It all. 

Not so the average camper of to-day. He must 
cull old dead no-account stuff that he finds on the 


ground — peradventure he even be permitted to light 
a fire in the woods at all. Alas ! the lean-to, and the 
hissing red logs that cheered us and kept us cosy 
through the long frosty nights under the hunter's 

Fig. 64. — Canoe Tent with Pole 

Canoe Tents. — The old pattern canoe tent 
(Fig. 64) is erected with a single pole. The front 
is semi-circular, and the strain from it, pulling for- 
ward, does away with the need of a guy rope, unless 

Fig. 65. — Canoe Tent with Ridge 

the whole front is left open to the camp-fire, in which 
case two guys are run forward on either side of the 

A canoe tent with short ridge is shown in Fig. 65. 
suspended bv a rope. When this pattern is used in 


the open it is erectea on a pair of shears, as in 
Fig. 68. 

These models are advertised as " quick and easy 
to erect," but a glance at the cuts will show that they 
take too many pegs and stakes to really belong in 
that category. Still they are very popular, especially 
the one with ridge. Dimensions (not including the 
rounded front), and weights in various materials, are 
tabulated below. Other sizes and cloths are sup- 
plied by outfitters. The two patterns do not vary 
noticeably in weight. 

Tanalite^ Emeralite 

7 X4^x6 -i>2 7>4 Ibsc 
7Mx7>^x7 -2. 1014 lbs. 
8^x7^x7^-3. izYzlhs. 

Tang, Nilo 

75^x43^x6 -i3^. sHlbs. 
7^/2x7^x7 -2. 8H lbs. 

9 X9 xj^^-zYz. II lbs. 

KiRO, Driki 

7 X4^x7 -2. 9^ lbs. 

7 X7 X7 -2. 11^ lbs. 
9^x9^/^x83^-3. 17 lbs. 

Extra Light Green 

6^x4^x7 -2. 6^ lbs. 
6^/^x63/2x7 -2. 7^ lbs. 

8 X 6^x7^ -3. 10 lbs. 

Green Egyptian 

7^x4^x7 -2. 73^ lbs. 
7^x7^x7 -2. 1034 lbs. 
9^x73^3x73^-3. 13 lbs. 

Green Wpf. Standard 

73/^x4^x7 -2. 93>2 lbs. 
7^x73^x7 -2. 13 lbs. 
9^x73^x7^-3- isMlbs. 

" CoMPAC " Tent. — This is a very light tent 
for pedestrians, canoeists, or others who want to get 
along with the least practicable outfit. For its size 
and weight, I have found it a good thing. It has 9 


floor sewed to Its walls ; so, when the door flaps are 
snapped shut, nothing can get in. You can defy not 
only rain and wind, but bugs, flies, spiders, scorpions, 
snakes, skunks, wood rats, and all other vermin. 
Ventilation is provided by four little windows cov- 
ered with bobbinet, with storm flaps that raise or 
lower from the inside. The cloth is very closely 
woven, and waterproofed. It may be had in tan, 
green, or the natural yellowish-white of unbleached 

Fig. 66— "Compac" Tent 

This tent Is easy to set up on any kind of ground. 
If a sapling happens to stand in the right place, peg 
out the corners of the floor and suspend the peak by 
its cord from a convenient limb. Otherwise, pitch 
with shears In front and a pole slanting backward 
from them, as shown In Fig. 66. Only a few pegs 
are required. 

Being so low and so well braced, this pocket house 
will stand up against a gale that might overthrow 
wall tents and send their flies a-klting. In cold 



weather It can be warmed by radiation from a camp 
fire in front. It will accommodate two men and 
their duffle. Of course it is only high enough to 
sit up in, but that is all the room one needs on such 
trips, and it is best for a cloth floored tent anyhow, 
for it balks muddy feet. However, I do not like a 
sewed-in floor, for general camping. The reasons 
are given at the end of this chapter. 

I have called this clever contrivance a " pocket- 
house." It deserves the name, being waterproof, 
wind-proof, bug-proof, ventilated, sheltering a space 

Fig. (i"]. — Snow Tent 

8 X 6 X 4-2 feet, and yet It rolls up into a 16 x 4-inch 
parcel, and weighs, with its rope, only 3^ pounds. 
Snow Tent. — This pattern (Fig. 67) gets its 
name from the steepness of its slopes which makes it 
shed snow Instead of holding It. With front flaps 
spread as shown. It can be warmed by a fire In front. 
The back has a low w^all, and there Is a short ridge ; 
otherwise Its qualities are those of a semi-pyramidal 
tent. It Is made In sizes from 6^ x 6^ x 7^^- 
2>4 ft. to 9% X 9^ X 7^-2^ ft., and the weights, 
in different materials, run from 7^ to 17 lbs. 


The same model, with sewed-In floor, closed front, 
an oval door of bobbinet, and a ventilator, is known 
es the " explorer's" tent (Fig. 68)0 It is perfectly 
insect-proof. For the tropics a fly is added. A 

•^"^''-"^^ ,S^'-<^^-^' cr 

Fig. 68.— Explorer's Tent 

iarge number of these tents have been used by the 
Alaska Boundary Survey and by other scientific ex- 
peditions. The v^eights complete are only from i^ 
to 2 lbs. greater than for same size of the snow tent. 
Insect-proof Tents. — I have spoken several 
times of the desirability of good ventilation in a tent 
(the smaller the tent, the stuffier it will be if tightly 
enclosed) and of the necessity of protection from in- 
sects in their season. The reader who has followed 
me thus far can readily understand the construction 
of an ideal tent, in these respects, for countries like 
Alaska, central Canada, the tropics, and other places 
where poisonous or germ-bearing insects abound. I 
quote from Emerson Hough: 

"The most perfect mosquito tent I ever saw I ran across 
this summer for the first time. It was made in a western 
city after a design said to have been invented by a mem- 
ber of the Geological Survey in Alaska. If it will work 
in Alaska it will anywhere. The material was not of 
heavy duck, but a light Egyptian cotton sometimes callec 


* balloon silk.' In size 7x7, very high in the ridge and 
on the walls, the tent in its bag weighs only about 12 
pounds. A light waterproof floor is sewn into it. Both 
ends are sewn into it. On each side there are two large 
netted windows, affording abundant ventilation. There 
are flaps arranged for these windows which can be but- 
toned down in case of rain. 

In each end of this tent there is yet another large 
window for ventilation. The roof projects three or four 
inches all around over the walls, making eaves which 
keep the water out of the open windows in case of rain. 
The front door is not a door at all, but a hole, round, 
and not triangular. This hole is fitted with a sleeve, like 
the trap of a fyke-net, the sleeve, or funnel, itself being 
made of light material. You crawl through this hole and, 
so to speak, pull it in after you and tie a knot in it. At 
least there is a puckering string by which you can close 
the bag which makes the entrance of the tent. Once in- 
side it, you have a large, roomy house in which you can 
stand up with comfort, lay down your beds in comfort, 
and do light housekeeping. No mosquito can get at you 
unless you brought it in on your clothes. In case you have 
done that you can put a wet sock into operation. At first 
you will think the lent a little close, but soon will see that 
the ventilation is perfect." {Out of Doors). 

Sewed-in Floors. — On the other hand, there 
are objections to a sewed-in floor. Muddy boots 
make it odious, and hob-nailed ones are its ruin. 
Every bit of snow that you track in will help make 
a puddle. A lantern is dangerous in such structures 
as the last two we have been considering, and one 
must be very careful about matches. In the case 
of the explorer's tent, which lacks the windows of 
the other, you can't cook inside, even on a vapor 
stove, without risk of disaster, and certainty of 
steam condensing where it cannot escape. Even 
the moisture of one's breath amounts to a good 
deal in the course of a night, and in cold weather 
it will keep the interior of such a tent constantly 
damp or coated with rime. As for the sewed-in 
floor serving as a mattress cover, to keep your bed 
of browse or leaves in place, if that bed is thick 
enough for comfort, the tent will not set well, and 
there will be too much strain on the pegs and seams. 


So, anywhere but in extremely bad mosquito coun^ 
try, or on bleak and windy mountains, it is better to 
have a wide sod-cloth around the bottom of the tent, 
and a separate ground-sheet, overlapping, that you 
can roll aside when you want a bare spot, and can 
take out and wash when it needs ito 


The problem of what to take on a trip resolves 
itself chiefly into a question of transportation. If 
the party can travel by wagon, and intends to go 
into fixed camp, then almost anything can be carried 
along — trunks, chests, big v^^all tents and poles, cots, 
mattresses, pots and pans galore, camp stove, kero- 
sene, ma<:kintoshes and rubber boots, plentiful 
changes of clothing, books, folding bath-tubs — what 
you will. Such things are right and proper if you do 
not intend to move often from place to place. But 
in any case beware of impedimenta that will be for- 
ever in the way and seldom or never used. 

It is quite another matter to fit out a man or a 
party for wilderness travel. First, and above all, be 
plain in the woods. In a far way you are emulating 
those grim heroes of the past who made the white 
man's trails across this continent. We seek the 
woods to escape civilization for a time, and all that 
suggests it. Let us sometimes broil our venison on a 
sharpened stick and serve it on a sheet of barko It 
tastes better. It gets us closer to Nature, and closer 
to those good old times when every American was 
considered " a man for a' that " if he proved it in a 
manful w^ay. And there is a pleasure in achieving 
creditable results by the simplest means. When you 
win your own way through the w^ilds with axe and 
rifle you win at the same time the imperturbability 
of a mind at ease with itself in any emergency by 
flood or field. Then you feel that you have red 
blood in your veins, and that it is good to be free and 



out of doors. It is one of the blessings of wilder- 
ness life that it shows us how few things we need in 
order to be perfectly happy. 

Let me not be misunderstood as counseling any- 
body to *' rough it " by sleeping on the bare ground 
and eating nothing but hardtack and bacon. Only 
a tenderfoot will parade a scorn of comfort and a 
taste for useless hardships. As " Nessmuk " says: 
" We do not go to the woods to rough it ; we go to 
smooth it — we get it rough enough in town. But 
let us live the simple, natural life in the woods, and 
leave all frills behind." 

An old campaigner is known by the simplicity and 
fitness of his equipment. He carries few " fixings," 
but every article has been well tested and it is the 
best that his purse can afford. He has learned by 
hard experience how steep are the mountain trails 
and how tangled the undergrowth and downwood 
in the primitive forest. He has learned, too, how to 
fashion on the spot many substitutes for " boughten " 
things that we consider necessary at home. 

The art of going " light but right " is hard to 
learn. I never knew a camper who did not burden 
himself, at first, with a lot of kickshaws that he did 
not need in the woods; nor one who, if he learned 
anything, did not soon begin to weed them out ; nor 
even a veteran who ever quite attained his own ideal 
of lightness and serviceability. Probably " Ness- 
muk " came as near to it as any one, after he got 
that famous ten-pound canoe. He said that his 
load, including canoe, knapsack, blanket-bag, extra 
clothing, hatchet, rod, and two days' rations, 
" never exceeded twenty-six pounds ; and I went 
prepared to camp out any and every night." This, 
of course, was in summer. 

In the days when game was plentiful and there 
were no closed seasons our frontiersmen thought 
nothing of making long expeditions into the unknown 
wilderness with no equipment but what they carried 
on thetir own persons, to wit: a blanket, rifles ammu- 


nition, flint and steel, tomahawk, knife, an awl, a 
spare pair of moccasins, perhaps, a small bag of 
jerked venison, and another of parched corn, ground 
to a coarse meal, which they called " rockahominy " 
or " coal flour." Their tutors in woodcraft often 
traveled lighter than this. An Indian runner would 
strip to his G-string and moccasins, roll up in his 
small blanket a pouch of rockahominy, and, armed 
only with a bow and arrows, he would perform jour- 
neys that no mammal but a wolf could equal. Gen- 
eral Clark said that when he and Lewis, with their 
men, started afoot from the mouth of the Columbia 
River on their return trip across the continent, their 
total store of articles for barter with the Indians for 
horses and food could have been tied up in two hand- 
kerchiefs. But they w^ere woodsmen, every inch ot 

Now it is not needful nor advisable for a camper 
in our time to suffer hardships from stinting his sup- 
plies. It is foolish to take insufficient bedding, or to 
rely upon a diet of pork, beans, and hardtack, in a 
country where game may be scarce. The knack is in 
striking a happy medium between too much luggage 
and too little. Ideal outfitting is to have what we 
want, when we want it, and not to be bothered with 
anything else. A pair of scales are good things to 
have at hand when one is making up his packs. 
Scales of another kind will then fall from his eyes. 
He w^ill note how the little, unconsidered trifles 
mount up ; how every bag or tin adds weight. 
Now let him imagine himself toiling uphill under an 
August sun, or forging through thickety woods, over 
rocks and roots and fallen trees, with all this stuff 
on his back. Again, let him think of a chill, wet 
night ahead, and of what he will really need to keep 
himself warm, dry, and well ballasted amidships. 
Balancing these two prospects one against the other, 
he cannot go far wrong in selecting his outfit. 

In his charming book. The Forest, Stewart Ed- 
ward White has spoken of that amusing foible, com- 


mon to us all, which compels even an experienced 
woodsman to lug along some pet trifle that he does 
not need, but which he would be miserable without. 
The more absurd this trinket is, the more he loves it. 
One of my camp-mates for five seasons carried in 
his " packer " a big chunk of rosin. When asked 
what it was for, he confessed : " Oh, I'm going to 
get a fellow to make me a turkey-call, some day, and 
this is to make it * turk.' " Jew's-harps, camp- 
stools, shaving-mugs, alarm-clocks, derringers that 
nobody could hit anything with, and other such 
trifles have been known to accompany very practical 
men who were otherwise in light marching order. 
If you have some such thing that you know you 
can't sleep well without, stow it religiously in your 
kit. It is your " medicine," your amulet against the 
spooks and bogies of the woods. It will dispel the 
koosy-oonek. (If you don't know what that means, 
ask an Eskimo. He may tell you that it means sor- 
cery, witchcraft — and so, no doubt, it does to the 
children of nature; but to us children of guile it is 
the spell of that imp who hides our pipes, steals our 
last match, and brings rain on the just when they 
want to go fishing.) 

No two men have the same " medicine." Mine is 
a porcelain teacup, minus the handle. It cost me 
much trouble to find one that would fit snugly inside 
the metal cup in which I brew my tea. Many's the 
time it has all but slipped from my fingers and 
dropped upon a rock ; many's the gibe I have suf- 
fered for its dear sake. But I do love it. Hot in- 
deed must be the sun, tangled the trail and weary 
the miles, before I forsake thee, O my frail, cool- 
lipped, but ardent teacup! 

There is something to be said in favor of indi- 
vidual outfits, every man going completely equipped 
and quite independent of the others. It is one of 
the delights of single-handed canoeing, whether 50U 
go alone or cruise in squadron, that every man is 
fixed to suit himself. Then if any one carries too 

much or too little, or cooks badly, or is too lazy to 
be neat, or lacks torethought in any way, he alone 
suffers the penalty; and this is but just. On the 
other hand, if one of the cruisers' outfits comes to 
grief, the others can help him out, since all the eggs 
are not in one basket. I like to have a complete 
camping outfit of my own, just big enough for two 
men, so that I can dispense a modest hospitality to 
a chance acquaintance, or take with me a comrade 
who, through no fault of his own, turns up at the 
last moment; but I want this outfit to be so light 
and compact that I can easily handle it myself when 
I am alone. Then I am alwaAS " fixed," and al- 
ways independent, come good or ill, blow high or 

Still, it is the general rule among campers to have 
" company stores." In so far as this means only 
those things that all use in common, such as tent, 
utensils, tools, and provisions, it is well enough ; but 
it should be a point of honor with each and every 
man to carry for himself a complete kit of personal 
necessities, down to the least detail. As for com- 
pany stores, everybody should bear a hand in collect- 
ing and packing them. To saddle this hard and 
thankless job on one man, merely because he Is ex- 
perienced and a willing worker, is selfish. Depend 
upon It, the fellow who " hasn^t time " to do his 
share of the work before starting will be the very 
one to shirk in camp. 

Axe. — A full-sized axe should be carried, In cold 
weather, if means of transportation permit. Its 
head need not weigh over 3 or 3^ pounds, but let 
the handle be of standard 36-inch length for a full- 
arm sweep. A single-bitt Is best for campers, as the 
poll is useful for driving stakes, knocking off pine 
knots, to rive timber (striking with a mallet), and 
as an anvil (bitt stuck In a log or stump). ^ 

With this one tool a good axeman can build any- 
thing that is required in the wilderness, and he can 
quickly fell and log-up a tree large enough to 


keep a hot fire before his lean-to throughout the 

If an axe Is bought ready handled, see that the 
helve is of young growth hickory, straight grained,! 
and free from knots. Sight along the back of the' 
helve to see if it is straight in line with the eye of 
the axe, then turn it over and see if the edge of the 
axe ranges exactly in line with the center of the 
hilt (rear end of handle), as it should, and that the 
hilt is at right angles to the center of the eye. A 
good chopper is as critical about the heft and hang 
of his axe as a shooter is about the balance of his 
gun. If the handle is straight, score a 2]5^-foot 
rule on it, in inches. Get the axe ground by a 
careful workman. The store edge is not thin 
enough or keen enough. One cannot be too careful 
in selecting this indispensable tool: some grades are 
of the best steel and hand-forged, but many others 
are just " bum." 

Have a leather sheath for the axe-head, to prevent 
accidents when traveling. Some are made with 
strap attached for carrying on one's back, but this is 
needless : in the few cases that you carry an axe that 
way, tie it to outside of pack with a string. 

An axe lying around camp has a fatal attraction 
for men who do not know how to use it. Not that 
they will do much chopping with it; but somebody 
will pick it up, make a few bungling whacks at a 
projecting root, or at a stick lying flat on the 
ground, drive the blade through into the earth and 
pebbles, and leave the edge nicked so that it will 
take an hour's hard work to put it in decent ordei 
again. And the fellow who does this is the one 
who could not sharpen an axe to save his life. It 
never seems to occur to him that an axe is of no use 
unless its edge is kept keen, or that the best way to 
ruin it is to strike it into the ground, or that a chop- 
ping block will prevent that. You may loan your 
last dollar to a friend ; but never loan him your axe, 
unless you are certain that he knows how to use it. 


If a full-^rown axe cannot be carried, then take a 
hatchet with handle as long as practicable (see 
Chapter X). 

Other Tools. — A small spade, or an army en- 
trenching tool, is a handy implement about camp. 
One outfitter has produced a good thing in this line 
which he calls a trekking spade. The handle is de- 
tachable. In shoveling hot coals at the fire-place, 
work quickly, so as not to draw the temper of the 

A useful tool, when it can be carried, is one I 
found recently in the catalogue of a certain mail- 
order house: a nail-cutting compass saw (just like 
any compass saw except that it is tempered for nails, 
sheet metal, etc., as well as wood), with 12-inch 
blade and weighing only 5 ounces. It can be used, 
too, in butchering big game, saving 
your axe edge. A folding saw, sold 
by sporting-goods dealers, will do 
well enough in most outfits. 

If you want to weigh the game 
you kill, carry what is called a Lit- 
tle Giant scale (Fig. 69). Al- 
though of pocket size and 12-oz. 
weight, it w^eighs by the small hook 
up to 40 lbs. by 2 lbs., and by the 
larger one up to 350 lbs. by 5 lbs. 
For fish, of course, a small spring 
balance is the thing- 

A pair of side-cutting pliers, of 
the very best steel, is almost a neces- 
sity. I always carry a small one 
when fishing, to snip off the barb of 
an imbedded hook, which otherwise 
is a mighty mean thing to get rid of. 
are in daily use for other purposes. 

A 6 to 8-inch mill file, and a carborundum stone, 
will keep the axe and other cutlerv in order. (A 
mill file is cut diagonally and parallel, instead of 
criss-cross like a common flat file.),. 

Fig. 69. — Little 
Giant Scale 

The pliers 


Select from the following list such articles as you 
know you will need, and make a light wooden box 
in which they will stow properly. 

Folding Saw. 

Mill File. 

Triangular File. 

Side-cutting Pliers. 

Carborundum Stone. 


Gun Screw-driver. 

Reel Screw-driver. 

Small Hand Drill. 

Tape Line. 

Copper Wire (two sizes). 

Nails, Brads, Tacks, 

J/2 gill Le Page's Glue. 
Marine Glue. 
Winding Silk (or Dental 

Rod Varnish. 
Ferrule Cement. 
Spare Tips and Guides. 
Rubber Mending Tissue. 

Gun or Rifle Cleaning Rod 

and Brush. 
Gun Oil. 
Gun Wipers. 
Emery Cloth. 

Spare Buttons. 
Safety Pins, 
Horse-blanket Pins. 
Rubber Bands (large). 
Spare Shoe Laces. 
Lock-stitch Awl. 
Shoe Nails. 
Sail Needles. 

Twine (in tobacco bag). 
Split Rivets, 
lo yds. 2-inch Adhesive 


Adhesive plaster (zinc oxide plaster) can be 
bought at any drug store. Besides its regular use to 
hold a dressing in place where bandaging is difficult 
(never apply it directly to a wound), and for pro- 
tecting sore spots, such as a cut finger or a blistered 
foot, it is a lightning repairer for all sorts of things. 
When warmed it will stick to any dry surface, wood, 
metal, glass, cloth, leather, or skin. It can be 
peeled off and reapplied several times. As an in- 
stantaneous mender of rents and stopper of holes or 
cracks it has no equal. It is waterproof and air- 
tight. With a broad strip you can seal a box or 
chest watertight, stop a leak in a canoe (" iron " it 
on with a hot spoon or stone) or mend a paddle, a 
gunstock, or even an axe-handle (first nailing it). 
A chest or cupboard can be extemporized from any 


packing box, in a ji%, by cleating the top and using 
surgeon's plaster for hinges. 

One of the most bothersome things in shifting 
camp is to secure opened cans and bottles from spill- 
ing. Surgeon's plaster does the trick in a twinkling. 
Put a little square of it over each hole in the milk 
can that j^ou opened for breakfast, and there will be 
no leakage. To hold a cork in a bottle, stick a 
narrow strip of the plaster over the cork and down 
opposite sides of the bottle's neck. To protect the 
bottle from breaking, run a strip around it at top 
and one at bottom. The caps of baking powder 
cans or similar tins can be secured to the bodies in 
the same way. 

If your fishing rod sticks at the ferrules, wrap a 
bit of the plaster around each joint to give you a 
grip, then pull without twisting. 

Rubber mending tissue (any dry-goods store) is 
good to patch a tent, a canoe, or rubber articles 
(waders, etc.). Cut canvas patch and tissue ol 
same size, place the latter over rent and the patch 
on top, then press with a hot iron or rub with a hot, 
smooth stone. 

Dental floss is fine for quick rod repairing, or to 
use as an emergency leader. It is very strong, ready 
waxed, waterproof, and durable. 

The list of tools and supplies given above is, of 
course, only suggestive, and for trips where the 
going is fairly easy. To each according to his needs. 

When traveling with horses, take along a ham- 
mer, a few spare horseshoes and their nails, leather 
mending kit, and the necessary ropes. 

Lantern. — Kerosene is a nuisance in carriage ; 
if so much as a drop escapes anywhere near your 
provisions, it wn'll taint them. Carbide is easy to 
carry, and, aside from its regular use in an acetylene 
lantern, makes it easy to start a fire when everything 
is wet. A folding pocket lantern of Stonebridge or 
Alpina type, for candles, is best for men in light 


marching order; but let it be of tin or brass; those 
made of aluminum are much too frail. 

Horn. — When camping in a canebrake country 
have a huntsman's horn in the outfit. Leave it with 
the camp-keeper, who wnll blow it every evening 
about an hour before supper. The sound of a horn 
carries far, and its message is unmistakable. It is 
a dulcet note to one who is bewildered in a thick 
wood or brake. 

Sundries. — A length of small rope, such as 
braided sash cord, and a ball of strong twine, spare 
cloth and leather for mending, a few rawhide 
thongs, and some broad rubber bands, are likely to 
be needed. 

A few yards of mosquito netting should be taken 
along to protect meat from blow-flies, and for vari- 
ous other purposes. 

Cooking Kit. — In rough country, especially if 
camp is to be shifted frequently, a stove is out of the 
reckoning. If pack animals are taken, or the trip is 
by canoe, without long and difficult portages, it pays 
to take along either a folding grate or a pair of fire 
irons (see Chapter IV). 

On light marching trips no support for the uten- 
sils will be carried. Rocks or logs will take their 
place. There may be a little more spilling and 
swearing, but less tired backs. 

It is commonly agreed that four is the ideal num^ 
ber for a camping party, at least among hunters and 
fishermen. Certainly no larger number should at- 
tempt their own cooking. Utensils and table ware 
for such a party, going light, should include: a 
large frying-pan (more serviceable than two small 
ones) ; a pan to mix dough in and wash dishes (com- 
mon milk pan) ; a stout, seamless, covered pot for 
boiling or stewing meat, baking beans, etc. ; a 
medium pot or pail for hot water (always wanted, 
substitute for tea kettle) ; a smaller one for cereals, 
vegetables, fruit ; and either a coffee pot low enough 
to nest in the latter, or a covered pail in its place. 

T:TGHT camp EQUIrMENT 119 

There should be six plates (two for serving) and 
four each of cups, knives, forks, teaspoons, table- 
spoons. This is about as little as the party can well 
get along with. 

It will be bothersome to bake bread for four in 
the frying-pan. Add a reflector or a sheet-steel 
oven, if practicable. A wire broiler, a tea perco- 
lator, and a corkscrew and can opener will nest with 
this set. If the cook wears no sheath knife a 
butcher knife is essential. Several dish towels 
(some to be divided into clouts) and a couple of 
yards of cheesecloth for straining and to hang meat 
in should be taken. Sapolio will be needed, or Bon 
Ami if the utensils are of aluminum. 

The common utensils of the shops will not nest. 
They are all spouts and handles, bail ears and cover 
knobs. Still, a good deal can be done by substitu- 
tion. Covered pails or pots (Fig. 70) do the work 

Fig. 70.— 
Cooking Pot 

Fig. 71.— 
Pot Chain 

Fig. 72.— 
Coffee Pot 

Fig. 73-— 


Coffee Pot 

of sauce pans and kettles, and are better all round, 
for they can either be set upon the coals or hung 
above the fire ; besides, you can carry water in them, 
and their covers keep heat in and ashes out. All 
such vessels should be low and broad ; then they will 
boil quickly and pack well. Good proportions are: 

3 quarts diameter 6^ in. x 5]^ in, height. 

4 " .... " 7^" xsM " 

6 " .... " 8^" x6^ " " 

8 " .... " 9M" X7^ " 

Bail ears should project as little as possible. 
Lids should have fold-down rings instead of knobs, 
so they will nest well. 


A set of pot-chains with hooks (Fig. 74) is worth 
taking. With one of these (weight 2 oz.) a kettle 
can be suspended at any desired height above the 

Ordinary coffee pots are not suitable for camping. 
A good pattern for the purpose is shown in Fig. 72. 
It has a bail, folding handles, and a solid spout that 
cannot melt off. A cheaper but very good article in 
tin (Fig. 73) is known as a "miner's coffee pot." 
When very compact nesting is sought, discard the 
coffee pot for a lidded pail: it has the merit that no 
aroma escapes through a spout. For tea, have an 
aluminum tea-ball ; then you will not commit the 
cardinal sin of steeping the leaves too long. 

Cups, to nest inside the coffee pot, have the lowe' 
part of the handle free (Fig. 74). In tin, tht^ 
13^-pint size is best (5 x 2% in.). Small cups and 
small plates are impertinences to anybody with a 
woods appetite. Tin is not so bad for coffee, but 
aluminum blisters the unwary mouth. Enamel is 
best for cups and plates, no matter what the mate- 
rial of the rest of the kit may be. It is so much 
easier to clean than tin or aluminum. If the plates 
are deep and generous (9^-inch soup plates, nest- 

Fig 74. — Cup Fig. 75. — Miller Frying Pan 

ing in the frying-pan) there will be no need of 
bowls for soup and porridge. 

The frying-pan handle is a perennial problem. 
If detachable, it is likely to be lost. The best fold- 
ing handled pan that I have used is the Miller pat- 
tern (Fig. 75). A common pan may be adapted 
by cutting off all but two inches of the handle and 
riveting a square socket to the top of the stub so 
that a stick may be fitted to it when you cook (if 


the socket is round the stick will twist unless care- 
fully fitted). I prefer the folding handle, because 
it saves time, and, on the very few occasions when 
one needs a long stick for handle, he can insert it in 
the rings of the Miller handle. Get a pan with 
hinge that won't work loose. 

Some sort of baker is almost essential for comfort- 
able life in the woods. The most portable form is 
the folding reflector sold by most outfitters. It is 
similar to those that our great-grandmothers used to 
bake biscuit in, before a hearth fire. The top slants 
like a shed roof, and the bottom like another shed 
roof turned upside down, the bread pan being in 
the middle. The slanting top and bottom reflect 
heat downward upon the top of the baking and up- 
ward against its bottom, so that bread, for instance^ 
bakes evenly all around. 

A prime advantage of this cunning utensil is that 
baking can proceed immediately when the fire i? 
kindled, without waiting for the wood to burn down 
to coals, and without danger of burning the dough. 
Fish, flesh, and fowl can be roasted to a turn in this 
contrivance. It has several better points than an 
oven, chief of which is its portability, as it folds flat; 
but it is inferior for corn bread, army biead, etc, 
and impossible for pot-roasts or braising. How to 
use it Is shown in Chapter XVI. 

Fig. 76.— 


(Angular Back) 

Fig. 77.— 


(Flat Back) 

Fig. 78.— 


(Folded in Case) 

There are two models of reflectors, one with a 
single joint at the rear (Fig. 76), the other with 
two (Fig. 77) and a flat back. The latter is more 
compact, but not so stiff as the other. 


These ovens may be bought in tin or aluminum* 

Tin Aluminum Aluminum 

9x12 pan. 4 lbs. 8x12 pan. 2 lbs. i2x 15 open. 2 lbs» 

ix X I4pan. 5^2 lbs. 8 x 18 pan. 2% lbs. 15 x 18 open. 3 lbs. 

10x18 pan. 5 lbs. 15 X 24 open. 4 lbs. 

An 8x i2-in. pan hold's just a dozen biscuits. 
A canvas carrying case (Fig. 78) w^hich is needed, 
for the baker is frail, adds another pound. A wire 
broiler packs inside the reflector; it is not necessary 
for broiling meat, but it is handy for the purpose, 
end especially for broiling fish. 

A reflector must be kept bright to do good baking. 
The sheet steel oven shown in Fig. 79 is much 
cheaper than a reflector. It con- 
sists of two halves that nest, each 
4x12 inches, and a perforated shelf 
on which a roast or a bake-pan 
may be placed. It is managed like 

„. a Dutch oven (see Chapter XX), 

Fig. 79. — 1 . . 1 

Sheet Steel Oven '^^^ requires more attention, as the 
material is thin. A reflector is 

better for the amateur, as he cari see at all times 

how the baking or roasting progresses. 

Men who have neither time nor inclination to 

rummage the stores for " calamities " that will nest 

would do well to pay extra for outfits already kitted 

by camp outfitters. Using one outfitter's sets for 

illustration, we are offered: 

In "Armor- In "Alum- 
Set for Size, nested steel" inol" 

Two persons.. 9^ x 8^ in. 6^ lbs. $4.00 6^ lbs. $9.85 

Four persons.. 10 x 11^ in. 12 lbs. 6.25 lo^g lbs. 16.60 

Six persons... II x 12% in. 17^ lbs. 8.50 17^ lbs. 26.50 

Eight persons. II x 12% in. 19^ lbs. 9.40 18^ lbs. 30.00 

In the four-men and eight-men sets the coffee 
pots will be found rather stingy. An 8x18 folding 
aluminum reflector, broiler, canvas case, butcher 
knife, cooking spoon, percolator, and canvas ivater 
bucket, would add exactly 4^ pounds weight and 
$6.90 to the price. 


Such sets as these are very nice for what I may 
call confirmed campers; but if the party is likely to 
split up after the first trip, and no one cares to buy 
a first-class outfit for future use, go to the depart- 
ment store and get, in tin or enameled ware, the 
articles I have listed. The reflector you must order 
from an outfitter, or make for yourself. 


One's health and comfort in camp depend very 
much upon what kind of bed he has. In nothing 
does a tenderfoot show off more discreditably than 
in his disregard of the essentials of a good night's 
rest. He comes into camp after a hard day's tramp, 
sweating and tired, eats heartily, and then throws 
himself down in his blanket on the bare ground. 
For a time he rests in supreme ease, drowsily satis- 
fied that this is the proper way to show that he can 
" rough it," and that no hardships of the field can 
daunt his spirit. Presently, as his eyes grow heavy 
and he cuddles up for the night, he discovers that 
a sharp stone is boring into his flesh. He shifts 
about, and rolls upon a sharper stub or projecting 
root. Cursing a little, he arises and clears the 
ground of his tormentors. Lying down again, he 
drops off peacefully and is soon snoring. An hour 
passes, and he rolls over on the other side; a half 
hour, and he rolls back again into his former posi- 
tion ; ten minutes, and he rolls again ; then he tosses^ 
fidgets, groans, w^akes up, and finds that his hips 
and shoulders ache from serving as piers for the 
arches of his back and sides. 

He gets up, muttering, scoops out hollows to re- 
ceive the projecting portions of his frame, and again 
lies down. An hour later he reawakens, this time 
with shivering flesh and teeth a-chatter. How cold 
the ground is! The blanket over him is sufficient 
cover, but the same thickness beneath, compacted by 
his weight and in contact with the cold earth, is not 



half enough to keep out the bone-searching chill that 
comes up from the damp ground. This will never 
do. Pneumonia or rheumatism may follow. He 
arises, this time for good, passes a wretched night 
before the fire, and dawn finds him a haggard, worn- 
out type of misery, disgusted with camp life and 
eager to hit the back trail for home. 

The moral is plain. This sort of roughing it is 
bad enough when one is compelled to submit to it. 
It kills twice as many soldiers as bullets do. When 
it is endured merely to show off one's fancied tough- 
ness and hardihood it is rank folly. Even the dumb 
beasts know better, and they are particular about 
making their beds. 

This matter of a good portable bed is the most 
serious problem in outfitting. A man can stand 
almost any hardship by day, and be none the worse 
for it, provided he gets a comfortable night's rest; 
but without sound sleep he will soon go to pieces, no 
matter how gritty he may be. 

In selecting camp bedding we look for the most 
warmth with the least w-^eight and bulk, for dura- 
bility under hard usage, and for stuff that will not 
hold moisture long, but will dry out easily. 

Warmth depends upon insulation. The best 
insulation is given by dry air confined in the inter- 
stices of the covering, this covering being thick 
enough to keep one's animal heat from escaping too 

Of course, materials vary in conductivity — cot- 
ton and other vegetable fibers being coldest, silk and 
wool warmer, fur and feathers warmest of all — 
but, irrespective of materials, the degree of insula- 
tion afforded by a covering depends upon its fluffi- 
ness, or looseness of texture, and its thickness of 
body. This means bulk; there is no way of get- 
ting around it ; there must be room for confined air. 

Innumerable expedients have been tried to keep 
down bulk by using impermeable insulators, such 
as oaper, oiled cotton or silk, and rubber or rubber- 


ized fabric, but all such " skins to keep heat in " are 
total failures. The vapor from one's body must 
have an outlet or a man vrill chill, to say nothing of 
other unpleasant consequences. 

The degree of insulation afforded by confined 
air may be judged roughly by a few comparisons. 
Here is a pack cloth of close-woven cotton duck; 
there is a cotton bed comforter of the same spread 
and weight, but thicker, of course. Size, weights, 
and materials are the same, yet what a difference in 
warmth! Well, it is just the enclosed air that 
makes the comforter "comfy," and lack of it that 
leaves the canvas cold as a covering. Similarly, a 
three-pound comforter filled with lamb's wool bat- 
ting is as warm as a five-pound all-wool blanket, be- 
cause it holds more dead air. Down filling is still 
warmer than wool, being fluffier, and its elasticity 
keeps it so — it does not mat from pressure. 

After a cotton comforter has been used a long 
time, or kept tightly rolled up, its batting becomes 
matted down and then the cover is no warmer than 
a quilt of equal weight. Quilts — ugh! In the 
dank bedroom of a backwoods cabin, where the 
" kivvers " were heirlooms, but seldom had been 
aired, I have heaped those quilts on me till their 
very weight made my bones ache, and still shivered 
miserably through the long winter night. 

Batting of any sort (but cotton the worst) will 
also mat from wet, and then its elasticity is gone. 
Water, moreover, is a good conductor of heat, and 
so a bed covering of any kind is cold when it is wet. 

Note this, also, that the weight of one's body 
presses out a good deal of air from the bedding 
under him. Moreover, earth, being a good con 
ductor, draws off one's animal heat faster than th^ 
air does. So, when sleeping on the ground, on& 
needs more bedding underneath than over him — • 
a cold, hard fact that some designers of sleeping 
bags have unaccountably overlooked. A bag with 
two thicknesses of blanket over the sleeper and only 


one under him Is built upside-down. The man will 
have at least part of his back only half protected i 
and one's vertebral region is the very part of him 
that is most vulnerable to cold. 

Blankets.— The warmest blanket for its weight 
is not a close-woven one but one that is loose-woven 
and fluffy. An army blanket is made for hard serv- 
ice, and so must be of firm weave, but a third of its 
Weight is added for that purpose only, not forV. 
jvarmth. For use in a sleeping bag, where they are 
protected from wear, blankets of more open tex- / 
ture are better. Two three-pound blankets arc/* 
Warmer than a six-pound one of the same grade/ 
owing to the thin stratum of air between them. 
Hence the best bags are made up of several layers 
of light, fluff>' blanketing, instead of a thick, felted 

Camp blankets should be all-wool. A cotton or 
part-cotton one is much more prone to absorb moist- 
ure from the damp woods air and to hold that which 
exudes from the body of the sleeper, hence it is 
clammier and colder than wool. The difference 
may not be so noticeable in the dry air of a heated 
bedroom, but it will quickly make itself felt in the 
woods. Another bad quality of cotton is that fire 
will spread through it from an ember cast out by the 
camp-fire, whereas the coal would merely burn a 
hole in wool. 

The warmest blankets for their weight are those 
made of camel's hair. They are expensive, but one 
of them is as much protection as two common 
woolen blankets. They are favorites among ex- 
perienced travelers all over the world. 

Hudson Bay blankets have a well-justified repu- 
tation, being much like the well-nigh everlasting 
products of the old hand-loom. Their size is dis- 
tinguished by " poinds "^ (four points, three-and-a- 
half points, three points) and they are marked ac- 
cordingly by black bars in one corner. 

Blankets should be of dark or neutral color, sC 


as not to show dirt or attract Insects. If used with- 
out a canvas cover they may well be waterproofed 
with lanolin, by the process that I will describe in 
the next chapter. 

To roll up in a blanket in such a way that you will 
stay snugly wrapped, lie down and draw the blanket 
over you like a coverlet, lift the legs without bend- 
ing at the knee, and tuck first one edge smoothly 
under your legs then the other. Lift your hips and 
do the same there. Fold the far end under your 
feet. Then wrap the free edges similarly around 
your shoulders one under the other. You will 
learn to do this without bunching, and will find 
yourself in a sort of cocoon. 

Often it is convenient to use a blanket as a gar 
ment while drying out your clothes, or as a cape in 
cold weather. Wear it as a Mexican does his 
serape. As a bed blanket is larger than a serape, 
one end must first be folded, say about two feet, 
depending upon size and your own height. This 
fold being turned under, stand with your back 
toward the blanket and draw its right-hand corner 
snugly up under the right armpit so that the triangle 
hangs down in front of you, and hold it firmly 
there. With left hand then draw the blanket up 
over left shoulder from behind, tight against nape 
of neck, and down in front. That leaves the left 
corner trailing on the ground before you. With a 
quick flirt throw this corner up over right shoulder 
and let it hang down your back, where it will stay 
of its own weight. You are now wrapped up but 
with right arm free. The blanket can be cast off 
in an instant 

Comforters. — Sometimes these are miscalled 
quilts, but they are knotted together instead ol 
quilted, and have thicker, fluffier filling than quilts. 
Cotton comforters are wholly unsuitable for out- 
door use. They are warm only when perfectly dry, 
and it is impossible to keep them so in the damp air 
of a forest. But a comforter filled with wool bat*- 


ting is very warm for Its weight and does not take 
up moisture so readily. It is cheaper than a blan- 
ket, and makes a softer bed, but is bulkier. Com- 
forters are much used by Western campers, along 
with a canvas " tarp." Whenever extreme com- 
pactness of outfit is not necessary, I recommend that 
each member of a party take v/ith him a wool com- 
forter, even if for no other use than as a mattress. 

Warmest of all coverings of this sort are the so- 
called eiderdown quilts (leally goose down). They 
are expensive, and must be carefully protected from 
the wet. 

Sleeping Bags. — There is a good deal of waste 
material in blankets and comforters, especially at the 
foot end. Suppose we cut them into a sort of coffin 
shape, to conform to the outlines of the body, sew 
up a side and an end and the lower third of the 
other side, then attach buttons or laces or clasps to 
close the bag after one has got into it. A good deal 
of weight and bulk are saved. 

'^he objections are that such an arrangement is 
hard to air and dry out, it is not readily adjustable 
to varying temperatures, and the occupant has a 
feeling of constraint when cooped up in the thing= 
Still, in some kinds of camping, it is essential that 
the bed be very warm, waterproof, windproof, and 
yet as portable as possible. Hence the sleeping bag. 

It may be laid down as an axiom at the start that 
no sleeping bag is worthy of serious notice unless its 
blankets or other lining can be removed quickly and 
soread out on a line to dry. A lining sewed inside 
a waterproof cover is an abomination. So is a nest 
of blanket bags that can only be aired by propping 
each one open with a stick. Such things get musty 
and dirty. They are so bothersome to air that they 
will be neglected. 

Of course, if the bag is of but a single thickness it 
may be sunned first on the outside and then turned 
rnside out. But no single bag is practical, exceot 
fnr a polar climate, when one adopts •*' fur basr 


Bedding, to be comfortable and healthful, must be 
adaptable to variations of temperature. Remember 
that the night gets colder and colder till daylight. 
This is much more noticeable out-of-doors than in- 
doors, and yet, even at home, when one goes to bed 
he generally has a spare cover handy to pull over 
him towards morning. 

Now a tent is far less insulated than a house. 
So if one muffles himself up when he goes to bed in 
enough covering to meet the last few hours before 
dawn, he will soon be roasted out, whereas if he 
has only enough bedding for comfort through the 
first watches of the night, he will find the last one 
his watch in literal truth, for he won't sleep. The 
only sleeping bag worth talking about is one that 

Fig. 80. — D. T. Abercrorabie Sleeping Bag 

has at least four layers of blanketing. Then ones 
can turn in under one layer and the canvas; in the 
cold hours after midnight, he can emerge and crawl 
back under more cover (Fig. 80). 

It is from lack of attention to these simple and 
obvious requirements that most designers of sleep- 
ing bags have failed. They have turned out con- 
trivances that either were insufferably hot in the 
early part of the night or confoundedly cold before 

The explorer, Anthony Fiala, who has patented 
an extremely light and warm bag for use in high 
latitudes (Fig. 81), claims that not only the bag 
itself but its cover should be porous so as to throw 
off the bodilv moisture which otherwise condenses 



ground the sleeper and chills him. So he uses plain 
khaki for a bag cover instead of waterproofed mate^ 
rial. However, his type of sleeping bag is a snugger 
" fit " than the average, and so arranged with hood 
and closing flaps that it ventilates only through the 
cloth itself. The larger and heavier bags commonly 
used are roomy enough to provide considerable ven- 
tilation from the unconscious wriggling of the 
sleeper. Besides, the cover, though waterproof, is 
not impermeable to air, as rubber or oilskin would 

If several layers of blanketing are used within ? 
roomy cover of waterproofed canvas the outer layer 
will take up what little *' sweating " occurs inside 

Fig. 8i. — Fiala Sleeping Bag 

the canvas. Such a cover is desirable to protect the 
occupant from damp ground, from moist air, and 
from rain when he bivouacs away from camp. It 
also keeps the bedding dry while en route, as, for 
example, in a boat or canoe when water is shipped. 
If the bag is opened out and its lining sunned fre- 
quently, as should be done with any sort of bedding, 
no trouble from condensed moisture will be experi- 
enced in ordinary climates. 

I have spoken of fur bags. They are much too 
hot for our climate, except in the high mountains 
where one must bivouac perhaps in wind and snow. 
The warmest of all coverings for its weight is a 
bag made of caribou nr reindeer-skin. The hair of 


this animal is extraordinarily close and thick, and 
each hair is hollow, like a quill, and contains air 
(this is true of the whole deer family). Caribou 
pelts are in their prime when in the summer coat, 
in August and early September. After this the hair 
becomes too long and brittle. Skins of young ani- 
mals should be used, being lighter than those of old 
ones, although almost as warm, and their hair is 
less liable to come out under conditions of dampness. 
They weigh about the same per square foot as rac- 
coon or goat-skms (4^ to 5 ounces, as compared 
with 63^ for wolf and 7 for black bear, on the 
average). A bag made from such skins will weigh 
about twelve pounds, from the adult caribou about 
sixteen pounds. Sleeping bags m.ade in Norway 
from skins of domesticated reindeer could be pur- 
chased, before the war, through the Army and Navy 
stores in London for about £5. Alaska reindeer 
skins can be bought from trading firms in Seattle. 

In the old Book of Camping and Woodcraft I 
discoursed as follows re sleeping bags: 

It is snug, for a while, to be laced up in a bag, but not 
so snug when you roll over and find that some aperture 
at the top is letting a stream of cold air run down your 
spine, and that your weight and cooped-upness prevent you 
from readjusting the bag to your comfort. Likewise a 
sleeping bag may be an unpleasant trap to be in when a 
squall springs up suddenly at night, or the tent catches 

I think that one is more likely to catch cold when emerg- 
ing from a stuffy sleeping bag into the cold air than if he 
had slept between loose blankets. A waterproof cover 
without any opening except where your nose sticks out is 
no more wholesome to sleep in than a rubber boot is 
wholesome for one's foot. Nor is such a cover of much 
practical advantage, except underneath. The notion that 
it is any substitute for a roof overhead, on a rainy night, 
is a delusion. 

Blankets can be wrapped around one more snugly, they 
do not condense moisture inside, and they can be thrown 
open instantly in case of alarm. In blankets you can sleep 
double in cold weather. Taking it all in all, I choose the 
separate bed tick, pillow bag, poncho, and blanket, rather 
than the same bulk and weight of any kind of sleeping 


bag that I have so far experimented with. There may 
be better bags that I have not tried. 

In his excellent book on The Way of the Woodsy, 
Dr. Edward Breck replied: 

" I have always looked up to Mr. Kephart as a woods- 
man sans reproche, but I am forced to believe that he has 
never made fair trial of a good sleeping bag; for, if there 
is one thing a bag does not do, it is letting in streams of 
cold air down your spine, and, to me at least it almost 
goes without saying that a man is wrapped up much more 
tightly in blanicets than in a bag, and hence far more help- 
less to rearrange his bed without pulling things to pieces. 
It is just precisely the ability to turn over in comfort that 
makes me love a sleeping bag, and this springs from its 
general ' stay-puttedness.' As for the stuffiness of a bag I 
confess I have yet to discover it. A proper bag opens 
down the side and ventilates easily. It is a little more 
difficult to air out in the morning, but not much. The 
comparison with a rubber boot is most unjust, and, though 
harder to get into, it takes no longer to do so than to wrap 
oneself up properly in blankets. As to getting caught in- 
side if a fire breaks out, I will engage to get outside of 
mine [a 'Comfort sleeping pocket'] in less than three 
seconds if necessary. The sleeping bag has come to 
stay. My Indians have made themselves a couple out of 
blankets and waterproof canvas. Mr. Kephart asserts 
that the waterproof cover is no substitute for a roof over- 
head on a rainy night; and yet I can assure him that I 
have slept out in mine without a tent many times in hard 
rain without getting wet in the slightest degree, except 
when rising. Imagine, if you please, the state I should 
have been in with blankets only. A lean-to of some kind 
would have been imperative, and even then misery would 
have been the result. Of course, spending the night with- 
out some kind of shelter is not to be recommended, but my 
experience shows what the bag is capable of." 

As for the roof overhead, what I meant was that 
gun and duffel need protection, and so do you when 
you crawl out on a rainy morning. The weight of 
a sleeping-bag cover put into a little waterproof tent 
that you can carry in your pocket, and a ground 
sheet to go with it, will give you better protection 
from the elements at night and a sheltered place to 
dress and cook breakfast in. This for side tripl 
from camp, or for long hikes. 


Otherwise It is a matter of finding a proper sleep- 
ing bag, and I have tried here to make the essentials 
plain. Beyond this, one's personal taste must be the 
decisive factor. Let us hear from another old-timer, 
Emerson Hough: 

" As to your bed, let us have one more whack at the 
sleeping bag — that accursed invention of a misguided 
soul. Leave your sleeping bag at home, in the Adiron- 
dacks or in the Minnesota woods. Take a pair of good 
wool blankets which will weigh not less than ten pounds 
— more weight is better. Don't despise a good wool com- 
forter or a ' Katy ' which will fold double and make a 
nice mattress under you. And whatever you do, don't 
fail to have for your own use a good, big bed * tarp ' as it 
is known in the West. On the stock ranches we always 
used to have the tarpaulin of 20-oz. duck, about 7 x 14 ft., 
jand sometimes it had harness hooks on it, sometimes not. 
It surely would turn rain. For the pack travel of today 
you will not need canvas of quite so much weight. But 
canvas and wool in abundance you surely should have 
for your bed. No hunting trip is a success when you 
don't sleep well and dry at night. Canvas and woo! 
together are the correct dope for the mountains. Take an 
air mattress if you insist, or if your dealer does: don't 
blame me if you sleep cold." 

When all is said, plain blankets are cheaper than 
sleeping bags, and they can be used at home: that 
settles the matter for most folks. 

Mattresses and Pillows. — It is folly to sleep 
on bare ground if one can help it. A bed of balsam 
browse is not excelled, if properly made and fre- 
quently renewed ; but it takes fully an hour to make 
one right, and on many a camp ground there is no 
browse, not even spruce. As a substitute one may 
use pine needles, grass, ferns, the moss off old fallen 
trees, or even dead leaves. Such stuff, however, 
packs hard and spreads from under one unless con- 
fined in a bag. For years I carried a bag of common 
bed ticking for this purpose, 2^^ feet wnde by 6^ 
feet long, and weighing only i ^ pounds. Such a 
bag made of tanalite is more practical than any kind 
of carryall or bed-sheet, for it serves just as well to 


protect the bedding en routes and then is easy to 
turn into a mattress when you make camp. A pil- 
low bag, similarly stuffed, with spare clothing atop, 
was not the least important item in my very light 
kit. When one has room, it pays to carry a small 
feather pillow or a down cushion about 12x18 

Air Mattresses. — An air bed is luxurious in 
moderate weather, but too cold to use late in the 
reason unless well insulated with blankets or a felt 
pad. The thinner the bed the less objectionable it 
is in this respect, as it does not then steal so much 
of one's animal heat. 

There are sleeping bags combined with air mat- 
tresses, full-length or only ** body size," that are 
good for canoe cruising, horseback journeys, or other 
trips when camp is changed every day or so and 
good sites are not always to be found. They save 
much work, and sometimes a good deal of anxiety. 
There is then no night wood to cut, no browse to 
gather, no tent to trench, and little bother about 
smoothing the ground. Wherever one may be, in 
damp forest or on sandy dune, on rocky ground or 
mucky ground, down goes the bundle, it is unrolled, 
and one inflates his " blow bed " with the bellows 
that nature gave him. In ten minutes he is assured 
of a dry, warm, elastic bed for the night, in spite of 
Jupiter Pluvius, or Boreas, or both of them allied. 
If water runs in on the floor, let it run. If the tent 
blows down, let it alone until you feel like getting 
up. Come morning there is no bed making to do, if 
you are too hurried to air things, except to deflate 
the mattress and roll the bag up. It straps into a 
waterproof pack that stows conveniently anywhere. 

But such a bed is quite expensive. For ordinary 
service, blankets and a bed tick will do just as well. 
In any case, study your health and your ease at 
night. There is a veteran's wisdom in what Chaun- 
cey Thomas says: " I go camping to have a good 
time, and a third of that time is spent in bed," 


Bed Rolls. — If one carries loose blankets he will 
need a waterproof canvas cover to protect them 
€n route and to serve as a ground sheet between 
them and the damp earth when he sleeps on the 
ground. A bed roll made with flaps at sides and 

Fig. 82.— U. S. A. Regulation Bed Roll 

end is best for this purpose. It Is also a good thing 
when you sleep on a narrow cot, to keep cold air 
from coming up under the overhang of your blan- 
kets. The army regulation bed roll (Fig. 82) is 

^ a 

Fig. 83.— Shattuck Camp Roll 

^ne type. There Is a pocket for spare clothing that 
serves as pillow, and the blankets and a folding cot 
are rolled up In the main part of the sheet, covered 
by the flaps, and strapped up. 

Another camp roll is shown In Fig. 83. It con- 



tains a detachable wall pocket for small articles, 
which is to be hung up in the tent, and bellows 
pockets at the end. 

There is a combination carryall and bed (Fig, 
84) that I think a good deal of. In principle it k 
like the other bed rolls mentioned, but the bottom ia 
double and open at both ends. A pair of stiff poles 
convert it into a stretcher bed (Fig. 86) ; cross polea 

Fig. 84.— Fig. 85.— 

Comfort Sleeping Pocket Combination Bed Roll, 

Stretcher Bed and Bed 

Fig. 86.— 
Combination as Stretcher Bed 

Fig. 87.— 
Combination as Ham- 

Fig. 88. — Combination as Bed Roll 

added and lashed at the ends make a hammock frame 
(Fig. 87). The double bottom serves as a bed tick, 
to be filled with browse, grass, or whatever soft 
stuff the camp site affords. The ends can be closed 
with horse-blanket pins, after stuffing the bag. The 
roll is made of 12-oz. army duck, and weighs 7 or 8 
pounds. It can be had with blanket lining, but this 
I do not recommend. Use separate blankets; then 
you can have as much thickness under as over you. 


In a wild country one soon learns that the differ- 
ence between comfort and misery, if not health and 
illness, may depend upon whether he is properly 
clad. Proper, in this case, does not mean modish, 
but suitable, serviceable, proven by the touchstone 
of experience to be best for the work or play that 
is in hand. When you seek a guide in the moun- 
tains he looks first in your eyes and then at your 
shoes. If both are right, you are right. 

The chief uses of clothing are to help the body 
maintain its normal temperature, and to protect it 
from sun, frost, wind, rain and injuries. To help, 
mind you — the body must be allowed to do its 

Perspiration is the heat-regulating mechanism of 
the body. Clothing should hinder its passage from 
the skin as little as possible. For this reason one's 
garments should be permeable to air. The body is 
cooled by rapid evaporation, on the familiar princi- 
ple of a tropical water-bag that is porous enough to 
let some of the water exude. So the best summer 
clothing is that which permits free evaporation — 
and this means all over, from head to heel. In win- 
ter, just the same, there should be free passage for 
bodily moisture through the underclothes; but extra 
layers or thicknesses of outer clothing are needed to 
hold in the bodily heat and to protect one against 
wind ; even so, all the garments should be permeable 
to air. If a man would freeze most horribly, let 
him, on a winter's night, crawl into a bag of India 
rubber and tie the opening tight about his neck. 



Cloth can be processed in such a waj^ as to be 
rainproof and still self-ventilating (this will be con- 
sidered later), but rubber garments and oilskins can- 
not safely be worn the day long, unless they are very 
roomy, and the wearer exercises but little. Rubber 
overshoes, boots, waders, are endurable only in cool 
weather or cold water, and then only if very thick 
oversocks are worn to hold air and absorb moisture. 

All clothing worn by an outdoorman should be 
of such texture and fit as will allow free play to his 
muscles, so he may be active and agile, and should 
bind as little as possible, especially over vital organs. 
Garments that are too thick and stiff, or too loose at 
points of friction, will chafe the wearer. 

These are general principles ; now for particulars. 

Underclothing. — In discussing " togs " we 
usually begin on the wrong side — the outside. 
Now the outer garments will vary a great deal, ac- 
cording to climate, season, the terrain or waters, 
and according to the sport or work that one is to 
do; but the integument that comes next to one's 
skin should vary little for an outdoorman except in 

The material and quality of one's underwear are 
of more consequence than the shell he puts over it, 
^or his comfort and health depend more on them. 
Whenever a man exercises heartily he is sure to per- 
spire freely, no matter how cold the air may be. 
Arctic explorers all agree that their chief misery 
was from confined moisture freezing on them. How 
it is in the dog-days everybody knows — a glowing 
sun, humidity in the air, and sweat trickling from 
every pore because the atmosphere is not dry enough 
to take it up. 

Permeability of cloth to air and moisture is 
largely a matter of texture. Consider the starched 
linen collar and the soft collar of an outing shirt; 
consider a leather sweat-band in the hat and a flan- 
nel one, or no sweat-band at all. 

Underclothing, for any season, should be loosely 


woven, so as to hold air and take up moisture from 
the body. The air connned in the interspaces is a 
non-conductor, and so helps to prevent sudden chill- 
ing on the one hand and over-heating on the other. 
A loose texture absorbs sweat but does not hold it — 
the moisture is free to pass on to and through the 
outer garments. In town we may endure close- 
woven underwear in summer, if thin enough, be- 
cause w^e exercise little and can bathe and change 
frequently. In the woods we would have to change 
four times a day to keep near as dry. 

Wool versus Cotton. — Permeability also de- 
pends upon material. Ordinary cotton and linen 
goods do not permit rapid evaporation. They ab- 
i>orb moisture from the skin, but hold it up to t'he 
limit of saturation. Then, when they can hold nc 
more, they are clammy, and the sweat can only 
escape by running down one's skin. 

After hard exertion in such garments, if you sit 
down to rest, or meet a sudden keen wind, as in top- 
ping a ridge, you are likely to get a chill — and the 
next thing is a " bad cold," or lumbago, rheumatism, 
or something worse. 

Wool, on the contrary, is permeable. That is 
why (if of suitable weight and loose weave) it is 
both cooler in summer and warmer in winter than 
cloth made from vegetable fibre. *' One wraps him- 
self in a woolen blanket to keep warm — to keep 
the heat in. He wraps ice in a blanket to keep it 
from melting — to keep the heat out." In other 
words, wool is the best material to maintain an 
equable, normal temperature. 

However, the broad statement that one should 
wear nothing but wool at all seasons requires modi- 
fication. It depends upon quality and weave. 
Some flannels are less absorptive and less permeable 
(especially after a few washings by the scrub-and- 
wring-out process) than open-texture cottons and 

And, speaking of washing, here comes another 


practical consideration. If woolen garments are 
washed like cotton ones — soap rubbed in, scrubbed 
on a washboard or the like, and wrung out — they 
will invariably shrink. The only way to prevent 
shrinkage is to soak them in lukewarm suds (prefer- 
ably of f els-naphtha or a similar soap), then merely 
squeeze out the water by pulling through the hand, 
rinse, squeeze out again, stretch, and hang up to dry. 
This is easy, but it requires a large vessel, and such 
a vessel few campers have. The alternative is to 
buy your undershirts and overshirts a size too large, 
allowing for shrinkage. Drawers must not be over- 
size, or they will chafe. But one's legs perspire 
much less than his body, and need less protection ; so, 
up to the time of frost, let the drawers be of ribbed 
cotton, which is permeable and dries out quickly. 
Cotton drawers have the further advantage that 
they do not shrink from the frequent wettings and 
constant rubbings that one's legs get in w^ilderness 
travel. Wool, however, is best for wading trout 
streams. For riding, the best drawers are of silk. 

I conclude that for cold weather, for work In 
high altitudes where changes of temperature are 
sudden and severe, and for deep forests w^here the 
night air is chilly, woolen underclothes should be 
worn. In hot climates, and for summer wear in 
open country, a mixture of silk and wool is best, 
but open-texture linen or cotton does very well. Pa- 
jamas should be of flannel, at all seasons, if one 
sleeps in a tent or out-of-doors. 

Union" Suits are not practical in the wilds. If 
you wade a stream, or get your legs soaked from 
wet brush or snow, you can easily take off a pair of 
drawers to dry them, but if wearing a union suit you 
must strip from head to foot. Moreover, a union 
suit is hard to wash, and it Is a perfect haven for 
fleas and ticks — you can't get rid of the brutes 
without stripping to the buff. 

Drawers must fit snugly In the crotch, and be 
not too thick, or they will chafe the wearer. Thef 


should be loose in the leg, to permit free knee action. 
Full-length drawers are best because they protect 
the knees against dirt and bruises, and safety-pins 
can be used to hold up the socks (garters impede 

Socks. — If trousers of full length are worn, then 
socks are preferable to stockings; they bulk less, 
weigh less, cost less, and are easier to wash. For 
forest travel, regardless of season, socks should be 
of soft wool, thick enough to cushion the feet and 
absorb moisture, and not closely knit but of rather 
open texture. But for open country, in hot sunny 
weather, cotton is better, because wool " draws " the 
feet at such times. On an all-day hike it pays to 
change to a fresh pair at noon. 

The fit of socks is very important. If too loose, 
they wrinkle and chafe the feet; if too small, they 
are unendurable. To prevent woolen ones from 
shrinking is not difficult. Every night, or every time 
you come in with wet feet, remove your socks, put 
on fresh ones (having bathed the feet, of course), 
and put those you have worn to soak in a running 
stream ; then draw them through the hand to squeeze 
out water, do not wring, but pull them gently into 
shape, and hang up to dry. On a long trip you 
will find means, now and then, to soak them in tepid 
suds, as they do not require a large vessel. 

Take along enough socks so that when a pair 
gets " more holey than righteous " you can throw 
them away. Darned socks cause blisters, especially 
when a man does the darning. 

OvERSHiRTS. — For Summer wear the U. S. A. 
chambray shirt is as good as any. It is durable, 
does not fade, and shows dirt and perspiration stains 
less than khaki or common outing shirts. Army 
shirts have two roomy Stanley pockets with buttoned 
flaps. These are just right for pipe and tobacco, 
note-book and pencil, or whatever you want handy 
at all times without crowding the trousers pockets. 

Later in the season, or for a cool climate, the 



standard infantry or officer's service shirt of olive- 
tan wool is excellent. It is always natty, and wears 
better than common flannel. The cloth is shrunk 
before making up, but will do some more shrinking 
from repeated wettings and washings, so get a size 
larger than what is worn at home. Gray is also a 
good color for overshirts. 

Neckerchiefs. — A neckerchief worn with the 
peak in front is convenient to wipe perspiration from 
the face. Slewed around the other way, it shields 
the neck from sunburn. In a high wind, or in 
dense thickets, k can be used to hold the hat on by 
tying over the head ; and it will protect one's ears 
when frost nips. It serves as a nightcap, or as a 
shield against insects, when folded and worn as 
shown in Figs. 89, 90. 

Fig. 89 — 


Folded for Hood 

Fig. 90.— 


Hood Adjusted 

Lay the kerchief out flat, fold over the upper 
corners a and b till they meet, roll the square lower 
edge toward the triangle thus formed, place kerchief 
over head with the slit ac in front, tie extremities of 
the roll under chin, and over ab, with a reef knot. 

The neckerchief should be large (the army size, 
27x27 in., or navy, 36x36 in.) and of silk. Silk 
neckerchiefs in any desired color can be bought of 
military outfitters. The army or navy size can be 
used as a doubled triangular bandage (or cut into 
two of them) in emergency. Tied around the ab- 
domen it helps to keep a man warm when he is 
caught out at night, and it is a good thing in ?:a5C 
of cramps. 


Trousers. — Khaki, of standard army grade, is 
good for summer wear, as it is cool and can be 
washed. '* Duxbak," or other closely woven crava- 
netted cotton, is better late in the season, since it 
sheds a good deal of wet and keeps out wind. Both 
of these materials dry readily. They are too noisy 
for still-hunting. 

For cold weather the army trousers of olive-tan 
wool are good, unless one goes out for very rough 
travel. The woolen cloth called kersey is first 
choice in a cool, rainy climate, or wherever much 
wading is to be done. It is the favorite among 
those most practical of men. the log-drivers and lum- 
berjacks generally. 

Woolen trousers do not wear so well as firmly 
woven cotton ones. They " pick out " in brush, 
*' snag," and collect burs. What has been said of 
cotton drawers applies also to trousers. Best of all 
trouser material, for rough service, is genuine Eng- 
lish moleskin, which is a very strong, tough, twilled 
cotton cloth, with a fine pile or nap, the surface of 
Ivhich is *' shaved " before dyeing. It wears like 
iron, is wind-proof, dries out quickly, and is com- 
fortable in either warm or cold weather. Cheap 
moleskin is worthless. 

Corduroy is easily torn, heavy, likely to chafe one, 
and it is notoriously hard to dry after a wetting. 
When wearing corduroy trousers there is a swish- 
swash at every stride that game can hear at a great 

Trousers should not be lined ; it makes them stiff 
and hard to dry. 

To wear with leggings the " foot breeches " of our 
infantry, which lace or button in front below the 
kne€, fit better than trousers that must be lapped 
over; but for wilderness wear I prefer common 
trousers cut off about six inches below the knee: 
they are easier to put on and they dry out quicker. 

Riding breeches are best for the saddle. They 
are cut too tight at the knee for foot travel, espe- 



ciall}^ for climbing. Knickerbockers are too baggy 
for the woods: they catch on snags and tear, or 
throw a man. 

Belts. — A belt drawn tight enough to hold up 
much weight is not only uncomfortable but danger- 
ous. It checks circulation, interferes with diges- 
tion, and may cause rupture if one gets a fall. If 
common suspenders are objectionable, then wear the 
" invisible " kind that go under the overshirt. They 
prevent chafing, by holding the trousers snug up in 
the crotch. For ordinary service there is no need 
of a belt more than an inch wide. A cartridge 
belt should be worn sagging w^U down on the hips; 
or, if a heavy weight is to be carried on the belt 
(bad practice, anyway), by all means have shoulder- 
straps for it. 

Leggings. — Never buy leggings that strap under 
the instep. The strap collects mud, and it is soon 
cut to pieces on the rocks. Any legging that laces 
over hooks will catch in brush or high grass and 
soon the hooks bend outward or flatten. The pres- 
ent U. S. A. canvas legging (Fig. 91) has only one 

Fig. 91.— 
U. S. Army 
Canvas Leg- 

Fig. 92.— 

Canvas Strap 


Fig- 93 — 

Woolen Spiral 


hook, in front; it is quickly adjusted. The strap 
puttee (Fig. 92) is better for a woodsman or moun- 
taineer. Leather puttees are suitable only for horse- 
men ; in walking and climbing they cut one in front 
and rear of the ankle joint. Genuine pigskin is the 
only leather that will stand hard service and fre- 
quent wettings. 


For still-hunting I like spiral puttees (Fig. 93), 
not spat but plain, as here illustrated. They are 
strips of woolen cloth with selvage edges, specially 
woven and *' formed," which wind round the leg 
like a surgeon's bandage and tie at the top. Do not 
wind too tightly. They are pliable, noiseless against 
brush, help to keep ticks and rhiggers from crawling 
up one's legs, and, with the clothing underneath, are 
a sufficient defense against any snakes except the 
great diamond-back rattlers. '* In experiments, 
only in rare instances has snake virus stained blot- 
ting-paper placed behind two thicknesses of heavy 

German socks, instead of leggings, are good for 
still-hunting in severe cold weather. 

Many dispense with leggings by wearing their 
trousers tucked inside boots or high-topped shoes. 
This will do when the woods are dry, but when all 
the bushes are wet from rain, or from heavy dew, 
the water runs down inside your shoes until they 
slush-slush as if you had been wading a creek. 

Coats. — The conventional American hunting 
coat of tan-colored cotton is designed primarily for 
fishermen, bird-hunters, and others who can reach 
home or permanent camp every night. Being nearly 
" all pockets but the button-holes," its wearer needs 
no pouch or game-bag. A man can stuff all the 
pockets full (he generally does) and still cross fences 
and slip through thickets without anything catching 
or dangling in the way. A cravenetted coat of this 
sort turns rain and keeps out the wind. It is an 
excellent defence against burrs and briers. It is no 
heavier than a poncho, and more serviceable for 
everything but as a ground-sheet or shelter-cloth. 
These are good points. 

On the other hand, the coat is too hot for sum- 
mer (barring trout fishing), it impedes athletic 
movements, and, unless sleeveless, it is a poor thing 
to shoot in, as a gun butt is likely to slip from the 
shoulder. For summer hikes, canoeing, and big- 


game hunting (except when it is cc.M enough for 
Mackinaw's) any coat is a downright nuisance. 

Have the coat roomy enough to wear a sweater 
or thick vest under it. Never mind " fit " — the 
thing is hideous anyway. Of course, one can wear 
a modish and well-fitting shooting suit, or the like, 
in the fields near '' civilization," but for wilderness 
travel it is as outre as a stag shirt and caulked boots 
would be on Fifth Avenue. 

The coat should not be lined. Most linings are 
so tightly woven that they check ventilation of the 
skin, and they make a garment hard to dry out. 

Sweaters. — A sweater, or sweater jacket, is 
comfortable to wear around camp in the chill of the 
evening and early morning, and its elasticity makes 
it a good bed garment when there are not enough 
blankets. With nothing over it, a sweater is not 
serviceable in the woods, as it *' picks out," " snags," 
and catches up burrs as a magnet does iron fil- 

When you want such a garment at all, you need 
warmth a-plenty : so get a thick one of good quality, 
and don't kick at the price. It should have cuffs to 
draw down over the knuckles, and a wide collar to 
protect the neck and base of the head. The best 
colors are neutral gray and brown or tan. A 
sweater jacket that buttons up in front is more con- 
venient than the kind that is drawn over one's head, 
but it is not so warm as the latter. 

Personally, I usually discard the sweater in favor 
of a Mackinaw shirt, worn hunting fashion with tail 
outside. It has all the good points of a sweater, 
except great elasticity, and has the advantages of 
shedding rain and snow, keeping out wind, wearing 
well under hard service, and not picking up so much 

Leather Jackets. — In the cold dry air of the 
Far West a buckskin jacket or hunting shirt is often 
the best outer garment. It keeps out the keenest 
wind, is pliable as kid, noiseless, less bulky than a 


sweater or Mackinaw, wears forever, and Is proof 
against thorns and burrs. But when wet It Is as 
cold and clammy as tripe. 

Genuine buckskin shirts are still listed In the 
catalogues of certain dealers in the Northwest. Be 
sure the skins are " smoke-tanned," so that they will 
dry soft and not shrink so badly as those dressed by 
a commercial tanner. A fringed shirt dries better 
than a plain one, as the water tends to drip off the 

Swedish dogskin jackets are rain-proof, but not 
so pliable as buckskin. 

If one can get them (Hudson Bay posts) light 
caribou skins are better than buckskin. Caribou or 
reindeer hide has the singular property of not stretch- 
ing when wet. When tanned with the hair on It 
is the warmest of all coverings. 

Vests. — A vest without coat may not be sightly, 
but It is mighty workmanlike. Suspenders can be 
worn under it without desecrating the landscape — 
and stout suspenders, say what you please, are a 
badge of good common sense on a woodsman. 

But the vest worn in town is not fit for the wilder- 
ness. One's back Is more vulnerable to cold than 
his chest ; hence the thick cloth of a waistcoat should 
go all the way round. There should be four roomy 
pockets, the lower ones with buttoned flaps. Tabs 
fitted at the bottom will keep the vest from flapping 
when worn open. 

Waterproofing Woolens. — Wet clothing Is 
heavy and uncomfortable. It Is much less perme- 
able to air than dry clothing; consequently It Inter- 
feres with evaporation of sweat ; and it is chilly, be- 
cause water, which Is a good conductor of heat, has 
replaced the air, which Is a non-conductor. Air 
passes through dry cloth more than twice as freely 
as through wet material. 

The problem Is to waterproof the outer garments 
and still leave them permeable to air. This Is done 
with cotton goods by cravenettlng the material, or, 


less effectively, by the alum and sugar-of-lead proc- 
ess which fixes acetate of alumina in the fibers. 

It is easier to waterproof woolens than cotton 
clothing. Simply make a solution of anhydrous 
lanolin in benzine or gasoline, soak the garment in 
it about three minutes, wring out gently, stretch to 
shape, and hang up to drj^ shifting position of gar- 
ment frequently, until nearly dry, so that the lanolin 
will be evenly distributed. This process is very 
cheap, and old clothing can be treated by it as well 
as new, w^ithout injuring the buttons or anything 

Cloth so treated permits the ready evaporation of 
sweat, and so may be worn without ill effects, no 
matter what the weather may be. In fact the p<^.r- 
spiration escapes more freely than from plain woolen 
cloth, because moisture cannot penetrate the fibers 
and swell them — the interstices are left open for 
air to pass through. And yet woolens impregnated 
with lanolin shed rain better than cloth treated by 
any of the chemical processes. The goods are not 
changed in weight, color, or odor. Instead of being 
weakened, they are made stronger. The w^ater- 
proofing is permanent. 

Lanolin can be bought at any drug-store. It is 
simply purified wool fat. Wool, in its natural state, 
contains a grease known as suint. This suint is re- 
moved by alkalis before spinning the fiber into cloth. 
If it had been let alone, as in a Navajo blanket of 
the old type, the cloth would have shed water. But 
suint has an unpleasant odor, which is got rid of 
by purifying the fat into lanolin. 

This lanolin, although it is a fat, has the singular 
property of taking up a great deal of water, and 
water is purposely added to it in preparing the com- 
mon (hydrous) lanolin that is used as an ointment 
base and in cosmetics. In buying, specify that it be 
anhydrous (water-free). Cloth treated with lanolin 
absorbs little moisture because water cannot pene- 
trate the fiber and is repelled from the interspaces 


The strength of solution to be used depends upon 
climate. For a hot, rainy climate, use four ounces 
of lanolin to a gallon of benzine ; for average condi- 
tions in the temperate zone, three ounces to the gal- 
lon ; for cold climate, or winter use exclusively, two 
ounces to the gallon, as cold has a tendency to stiffen 
cloth that has been steeped in a strong solution. 
The three-ounce formula is right for blankets. 

If trouble is experienced in making a solution of 
lanolin, dissolve it first in a little chloroform, then 
pour into the benzine. 

Footwear. — It is a truism that " a soldier is no 
better than his feet." Neither is anybody else who 
has much walking to do. Such shoes as we wear in 
town are wholly unfit for the field. They are too 
light, too short, and too narrow. We do little walk- 
ing in town, and none that we do is over rough 
ground. We carry no burdens on our backs. So 
the " snug fit " is tolerated, and the thin socks. 

On the trail it is different. One must have free 
play for his toes, or his feet will be cramped and 
blistered within a few hours — then misery! In 
marching with a pack, one's foot lengthens about 
half an inch every time his weight is thrown on it, 
and broadens nearly as much. And after hiking 
some distance the feet begin to swell. 

The only way to insure a good fit is to put on 
thick socks, pick up a weight equal to the load you 
are to carry, slip a tape-measure under the sole, then 
throw your whole weight on that foot, and have 
someone do the measuring. Then the other foot 
similarly ; for in many cases the two differ. Have 
the shoe made a half inch longer than the foot meas- 
urement, and wide enough to give a snug but easy 
fit over the ball when poised as above. Around the 
heel it should be snug enough to prevent slipping and 
chafing. These are the army rules, and they are 
right for anyone who marches and has equipment to 

When starting afield, lace the shoes rather tightly 


across the instep ; then ease the lacing when your 
feet begin to s\\ ell. By the way, some people are 
always having their shoe laces come undone, because 
tied with a granny bow. A true bow knot (Fig. 
94) is made like a reef knot (Figs. 95, 96) except 
that the ends are doubled back before tying. 

Carry spare laces. They come handy for many 
purposes. Rawhide laces may be hardened at the 
ends by slightly roasting them. 

Shoes. — It is not enough that the shoes be roomy. 
The lasts over which they are made should be ana- 
tomically correct. In 191 1 a board of officers of our 
army was appointed to select a soldier's shoe. They 
tried many models, instituted thorough marching 
tests by thousands of men, and finally adopted a 

Fig. 94.— Fig. 95.— Fig. 96.— 

True Bow Reef Knot Formed Reef Knot Drawn 

Knot. Don- Tight 

ble the Ends 
Back and 
Tie as in a 
Reef Knot 

shoe made over lasts designed by Surgeon-Major 
Munson, the well-known expert on military hygiene 
(Fig. 97). These lasts are straight on the inside, 
so that the big toe can point straight ahead, as Na- 
ture intended. The front is broad enough to give 
all the toes free play. There is no compression over 
the ball or arch of the foot. This is the perfect 
model, easy on one's feet from the word " go." 

The army shoe has now been in use, by all arms 
of the service, long enough to have proved beyond 
question its merits. Lieutenant Whelan, so well 
known to us as a sportsman and military authority, 
says of it: " In the light of what the army now 
knows, sore feet are absolutely inexcusable. The 
presence of sore feet in an officer's command is a 


cause for Investigation as to the efficiency of that 

To break In a new pair of shoes the soldier stands 
in about three Inches of water for five minutes, then 
goes for a walk on level ground. When the shoes 
are not in use, care Is taken that they shall not be 
packed away tightly or otherwise compressed out of 
the true shape that the breaking In gave them. 

At night the shoes are dried by hanging them up- 
side down on stakes before the fire — not too close, 
for wet leather " burns " easily. Or, fill a frjang 
pan with clean pebbles, heat them (not too hot) over 
the fire, put them in the shoes, and shake them 

Fig. 97-— 
U. S. Army Shoe 

Fig. 98.— 
Sole of Army 
Shoe, Showing 
Proper Meth- 
od of Placing 

around after a while. Before the shoes are quite 
dry, rub just a little ncatsfoot oil into them. The 
remaining dampness prevents the oil from striking 
clear through, but helps it to penetrate on the out- 
side, as the oil follows the retreating water. 

The army shoe has a single sole ; so it is flexible — 
a prime desideratum for good walking. The heel is 
low, broad, and longer than usual, giving firm foot- 
ing and having less tendency to ** run down " than 
the common pattern of heel. The tongue is loose, 


making: the shoe cool and easy to dry out. There 
are no hooks to catch in grass and bend out of shape. 
A pair of these shoes weighs only 2 to 2_^ pounds, 
according to size. This is a proper weight for 
marching on ordinary roads, but is too light, of 
course, for rough service, such as a sportsman's 
shoes often are put to. For the hardscrabble of 
mountaineering, or going anywhere over sharp rocks 
or among thorns and saw-briers, the leather is too 
thin ; when it gets wet it goes to pieces. 

When buying shoes go to a maker who has made, 
and kept, a reputation for using none but good 
leather. There is no severer test of leather than 
hard usage during frequent wettings and dryings; 
so, when you find a firm of shoemakers that lumber- 
jacks swear by, trust it to turn you out a good 

Waterproofed Shoes. — The army board de' 
^ided positively against using any waterproofing com- 
pound on shoe leather, because waterproofed shoes 
steam the feet in perspiration, congest them, and 
make them tender, if worn for any considerable time, 
especially in warm weather. 

However, it is one thing to march on ordinary 
roads and another thing to follow wilderness trails 
or go where there are none at all. And sportsmen 
often are out in cold slush or wet snow. It is true 
that no harm comes from wet feet so long as one 
keeps moving; but if a man has much standing 
around to do with his feet cold and wet he will 
suffer discomfort and quite likely catch a cold. Be- 
sides, no matter how good the quality of leather may 
be, when it gets soggy it wears badly. Conse- 
quently, although the army shoe is just right for 
warm weather and marching on roads, it is neither 
strong enough nor dry enough for continuous wilder- 
ness use. 

My advice is to get shoes made over the Munson 
last, of weight suitable for the service in view, and 
have them viscolized or otherwise waterproofed if 


you are to be out a good deal in the wet. Have » 
pair of the regulation army shoes for hot weather 
and easy going. 

No leather is absolutely waterproof. The skin 
from which it is tanned is porous, and a water- 
proofing preparation only partially fills those pores, 
making the leather shed water so long as the filling 
remains intact, but not preventing air and moisture 
from gradually seeping through. This is as it 
should be. If the pores were completely and perma- 
nently stopped up, the shoe would be as uncomfort- 
able and unhealthful to wear as if made of rubber. 
All we can reasonably ask is that the shoe shall shed 
water under marching conditions; not that we may 
wade or stand in water indefinitely and still keep 
dry feet. 

There are several good waterproofing preparations 
on the market, to be bought of almost any dealer 
in sporting goods. If you prefer to make your own, 
either of the following recipes will do very well. 
Do not use a mineral oil on shoes: it "burns" 
leather ; but vaseline and paraffine are harmless. 

To Waterproof Leather. — A rather thick 
dubbing melted and rubbed into warmed leather 
is better than an oil, as it " stays put " and does not 
mix so much with water. Have the leather per- 
fectly dry and apply the compound with a small 
brush, blowing it into the crack between the sole and 
upper, then rub well with the hand. Usually two 
coats, sometimes three, should be applied. 

(i) Melt together one part paraffine and two parts yel- 
low vaseline. Apply as above. 

(2) Melt together equal parts paraffine or beeswaXj 
tallow, and harness oil or neatsfoot oil. 

(3) Boil together two parts pine tar and three parts 
cod-liver oil. Soak the leather in the hot mixture, rub- 
bing in while hot. It will make boots waterproof, and 
will keep them soft for months, in spite of repeated wet- 
tings. This is a famous Norwegian recipe. 

(4) Get a cake of cocoanut butter from a drug store 
and a small quantity of beeswax. Melt the cocoanut but- 
ter and add the beeswax in the proportion of about one 


part of beeswax to six of the cocoanut butter. Warm 
the shoe as thoroughly as possible to open the pores of 
the leather, and rub your melted waterproofing on while 
hot. Repeated warming of the shoe and application of 
the preparation will thoroughly fill the pores of the 
leather and also the stitching. The cocoanut butter 
when cold hardens somewhat like paraffine but not suf- 
ficiently to seal the stitching. The beeswax gets in its 
work there. A mixture of tallow or neatsfoot oil applied 
hot and with melted rubber mixed in, is also good. To 
melt the rubber, first chip it as small as possible. Rubber 
cuts easiest when wet. Apply to stitching with a stifi 
brush. — Recreation, April, 191 1. 

Hobnails. — If one is not traveling bv canoe ot 
on horseback, a few cone-headed Hungarian naik 
should be driven into the shoe soles in the pattern 
here shown (Fig. 98). The ''natives" may stud 
their soles thickly, but that is only to save shoe 
leather. Too many nails hurt the feet, make the 
shoe stiff (whereas it can scarcely be too springy), 
cause the shoe to ball up in snow, and do not grip 
so well as a few nails well placed. I am not speak- 
ing here of mountaineering above snow-line, but of 
ordinary climbing, especially where leaves or pine 
needles may be thick, and of following the beds of 
trout streams. The nails under the instep are in- 
valuable for crossing streams on fallen trees or poles. 

The sharp points of cone-headed nails soon wear 
off, but edges are left that " bite " well. Broad 
hobnails with corrugated faces are good at first, but 
they quickly wear smooth, and then slip worse on 
the rocks than small ones. They also pull out 

Many recommend short screw caulks. These, if 
sharp pointed, pick up trash at every step when j^ou 
are in the woods; if blunt, they are treacherous on 
the " slick rocks," as they are m.ade of hard steel. 

Some prefer ^-inch round head blued screws in- 
stead of hobnails or caulks. They claim that these 
" bite " better, and that they are easy to insert or 

Rubber heels save much jarring on a long hike, 


but they do not grip on slippery roots, on footlogs, 
or on leaf-strewn mountain sides. 

Boots. — By boots I mean any soled footgear with 
tops more than eight inches high. Engineers who 
do more standing around than walking m.ay be all 
right in high-topped boots that lace up the legs, and 
have buckles besides, but there are mighty few places 
where a sportsman should be seen in such rig. The 
importance of going lightly shod when one has to do 
much tramping is not appreciated by a novice. 

Let me show what it means. Suppose that a man 
in fair training can carry on his back a weight of 
forty pounds, on good roads, w-ithout excessive fa- 
tigue. Now shift that load from his back and 
fasten half of it on each foot — how far will he go? 
You see the difference between carrying on your 
back and lifting with your feet. Very well ; a pair 
uf single-soled low shoes weighs about two and a 
half pounds. A pair of boots with double soles and 
sixteen or seventeen-inch tops weighs about four and 
SI half pounds. In ten miles there are 21,120 aver- 
age paces. At one extra pound to the pace the 
boots make you lift, in a ten-mile tramp, over ten 
tons more footgear than if you wore the shoes. 

Nor is that all. The boots afford no outlet foi 
hot air and perspiration. They are stiff, clumsy, 
and very likely to blister your feet and ankles. 
When they are brand new, you can wade shallows 
in them and keep your feet dry; but soon the seams 
are bouna to open and no dubbing will ever close 
them again. Anyhow, if you fall in fording, or step 
half an inch too deep, it will take five minutes to 
remove those boots, pour out the w^ater, and put. 
them on again. Then if they dry out overnight 
you are uncommonly lucky. 

And how are the boots in warm, dry weather? 
They keep the feet and legs wet all the time with 
stagnant perspiration. No — take six-inch shoes 
and light leggings, with a pair of waterproofed 
" pacs " in reserve for wet going. If you hunt in a 


marsh, wear rubber boots, which are waterproof in 
something more than name. 

There are times and places where an eight or ten- 
inch hunting shoe that started out to be waterproof 
is all right. 

High-topped " cruisers " have all the faults of the 
boots except that they are lighter. They scald the 
feet on a warm day, and chill or freeze them on a 
cold one; from lack of ventilation and confinement of 

Pacs. — A " shoe-pac " or " larrigan " is a beef- 
hide moccasin w^ith eight to ten-inch top, and with or 
without a light, flexible sole. It is practically water- 
proof so long as the seams (which are on top where 
they get less strain than those of a shoe) remain 
sound, and they are kept well greased. They are 
lighter and more pliable than shoes, and are first- 
rate *' extras " to take along for wet days, dewy 
mornings, and swampy ground, or as the regular 
footwear for still-hunting. Get them big enough 
to accommodate heavy lumbermen's socks over your 
•3oft thinner ones. Otherwise your feet will gen- 
erally be either too hot or too cold. 

Pacs without soles are fine in a canoe. In trout 
fishing they can be worn with a pair of hemp sandals 
to prevent slipping. In extremely cold weather the 
oil-tanned leather freezes as stiff as horn, and gets 
dangerously " slick." 

Moccasins. — In dry weather, on ground that is 
not too steep or stony, give me the velvety and pliant, 
pussy-footed moccasin, of real moose-hide, " smoke- 
tanned " So it will dry soft if I do get wet. I will 
see more that is worth seeing in the woods than 
anybody w^ho wears shoes. 

If your feet are too tender, at first, for moccasins, 
add insoles of good thick felt, or birch bark or the 
dried inner bark of red cedar. After a few days the 
feet will toughen, the tendons will learn to do their 
proper work without crutches, and you will be able 
to travel farther, faster, more noiselessly, and with 


less exertion, than in any kind of boots or shoes. 
This, too, in rough country. I have often gone 
tenderfooted from a year's office work and have 
traveled in moccasins for w^eeks, over flinty Ozark 
hills, through canebrakes, through cypress swamps 
where the sharp little immature " knees " are hidden 
under the needles, over unballasted railroad tracks at 
night, and in other rough places, and enjoyed noth- 
ing more than the lightness and ease of my footv/ear. 
After one's feet have become accustomed to this 
most rational of all covering they become almost like 
hands, feeling their way, and avoiding obstacles as 
though gifted with a special sense. They can bend 
freely. One can climb in moccasins as in nothing 
else. So long as they are dry, he can cross narrow 
logs like a cat, and pass in safety along treacherous 
slopes where thick-soled shoes might bring him 
swiftly to grief. Moccasined feet feel the dry sticks 
underneath, and glide softly over the telltales with- 
out cracking them. They do not stick fast in \nud. 
One can swim with them as if he were barefoot. It 
is rarely indeed that one hears of a man spraining; 
his ankle when wearing the Indian footgear. 

Moccasins should be of moose-hide, or, better 
still, of caribou. Elk-hide is the next choice. Deer- 
skin is too thin, hard on the feet for that reason, and 
soon wears out. The hide should be Indian-tanned, 
and '■ honest Injun '* at that — that is to say, not 
tanned with bark or chemicals, in which case (unless 
of caribou-hide) they would shrink and dry hard 
after a wetting, but made of the raw hide, its fibers 
thoroughly broken up by a plentiful expenditure of 
elbow-grease, the skin softened by rubbing into it the 
brains of the animal, and then smoked, so that it 
will dry without shrinking and can be made as 
pliable as before by a little rubbing in the hands. 
Moccasins to be used in a prickly-pear or cactiA 
country must be soled with rawhide. 

Ordinary moccasins, tanned by the above process 
(which properly is not tanning at all), are oniv 


pleasant to wear in dry weather. But they are al- 
ways a great comfort in a canoe or around camp, and 
are almost indispensable for still-hunting or snow- 
shoeing. They weigh so little, take up so little room 
in the pack, and are so delightfully easy on the feetj 
that a pair should be in every camper's outfit. At 
night they are the best foot-warmers that one could 
jWish, and they will be appreciated when one must get 
up and move about outside the tent. 

In a mountainous region that is heavily timbered, 
moccasins are too slippery for use after the leaves 

Moccasins should be made over a regular shoe 
last (Fig. 99). Those commonly sold are too nar- 
row at the toe. Remember 
that they will shrink some 
after getting wet, and that 
you must wear thick socks in 
them, or perhaps two pairs, 
so get them big enough. 

Heavy men, tender- 

footed from town, enjoy pjg^ ^^_ Soled Moccaslr, 
moccasins best in a ham- (Made Over Last) 

mock. In fact, most city 

men will get on better in soled moccasins, but these 
should be pliable and of not over i}4 pounds to the 
pair. Or canvas " sneakers " may be used. But 
beware the rubber soled variety. They are very hot, 
and will make your feet more tender than ever. 
Canvas with leather sole is cool and dries out quickly. 

Either moccasins or sneakers are needed in camp 
to rest the feet, and to slip on at night if you stir out. 

Headwear. — For general use a soft felt hat, of 
good quality that will stand rain, is the best head 
covering. The rim should be just wide enough to 
shield the eyes from glare and the back of the neck 
from rain. I like a creased top, wearing it so until 
a hot sun beats dow^n, then I push up the crown and 
have a good air space over my pate. The hat should 
have ej^'elets for ventilation. A strap or cord under 


one's " back hair," or chin if need be, holds the hat 
on in a wind. 

A stiff rim is suitable only for mounted men ; in 
the woods it is a plaything for brush and low 

A flannel sweat-band absorbs perspiration instead 
of holding it back like a leather one. (The Jaeger 
stores have them in stock.) It also helps to hold the 
hat on. In attaching, do not sew through the hat 
but through the narrow band under original sweat- 
band, otherwise the hat will leak. 

A cap is of no account in the rain, and its crown 
is too low to protect one's head from the sun rays. 

Head Nets. — A head net and gauntlets are the 
only adequate protection against insects when these 
are at their worst. The best net is of Brussels silk 
veiling of fine mesh, black, because that is the easiest 
color to see through. A net that tears easily is 

Gloves. — Buckskin gloves are needed in moun- 
tain climbing and in a region where thorns and 
briers are common. Buy the regular army ones: 
they are real buck, and dry out soft. Cavalry gaunt- 
lets are better for horseback trips. By folding the 
hand of a gauntlet back against its cuff the latter 
serves as a drinking cup. 

For " fly time " Dillon Wallace recommends 
" old loose kid gloves with the fingers cut off and 
farmer's satin elbow sleeves to fit under the wrist- 
bands of the outer shirt." 

Waterproofs. — Rubber tears easily. Oilskins 
are superior, regular weight for the saddle and the 
duck blind, " feather-weight " for fishing and the 
like. A slicker should be quite roomy, to admit a? 
much air as possible. Oilskin overalls are gooc? 
things, at a fixed camp, to wear of a morning when 
dews are heavy and where the brush is thick. 

On a hike there is no need of rubber or oilskins 
If you wear cravenetted or lanolined clothing; but 
one usually carries a light poncho as a ground-sheet 


at night, and on the march It will protect gun and 
pack, as well as the bearer, and let plenty of air circu- 
late underneath it. A poncho makes a fair tem- 
porary shelter, a good wind-break, and is nice to sil 
on when the woods are damp. In a canoe it forms 
a waterproof cover for the pack. There are ponchos 
of " impervo " and similar oiled fabrics that outwear 
rubber ones two to one. A poncho is a nuisance on 
horseback; wear a pommel slicker. 

Go over your oilskins each winter with an oil 
that the dealers sell for the purpose ; then they will 
last for a long time. 

Rubber Footwear. — I never wear waders for 
summer trout fishing, but early spring fishing is a 
different matter. Wading stockings require special 
hobnailed shoes to go over them. I prefer a pair ot 
light hip boots and separate w^ading sandals studded 
with nails. This combination costs less than the 
other, is more durable, and the boots by themselves 
are serviceable for general wet weather wear, marsb 
shooting, and the like. Light rubber boots of first- 
class quality will last as long as the common heavj^ 
ones, ana nave the advantage that the legs can be 
turned inside out clear to the ankle for drying. 
They need not weigh over 3 or 3^ pounds to the 
pair, and the sandals a pound more — together no 
more than the high-topped leather boots that I have 
been objurgating. Have them large enough for 
both socks and oversocks, then your feet are not 
likely to get " scalded." Carry a couple of " eezy- 
quick " menders, and have a rubber repair kit among 
your possibles in camp. 

For hunting big game In w^et snow and slush the 
best footwear is a pair of rubber shoes with ten-inch 
leather uppers, weighing a bit over two pounds. 
They should have heels, if you go into a hilly coun- 
try, and rough corrugated soles. Dress the feet with 
soft woolen socks, and over these draw a pair of long, 
thick " German socks " that strap at the top. The 
latter are warmer than the loose felt boots worn by 


lumbermen, lighter, more flexible, fit better, and are 
easier to dry out. The rubbers should fit proper!-; 
over the heavy socks, neither too tight nor too loose, 
but especially not too tight or you risk frostbite! 
Thus equipped, a still-hunter is " shod with silence." 
For cold weather the vital necessity is suppleness of 
the foot, and here you have it. 

Cold Weather Clothing.— The main fault of 
most cold weather rigs is that, paradoxically, they 
-re too hot. You go out into '' twenty-some-odd " 
below zero, all muffled up in thick underwear, over- 
shirt, heavy trousers, and a 32-ounce (to the yard) 
Mackinaw coat. Very nice, until you get your 
stride. In half an hour the sweat w'll be streaming 
from you enough to turn a mill. By and by you 
may have to stand still for quite a while. Then 
the moisture begins to freeze, and a buffalo robe 
wouldn't keep you warm. 

Conditions vary ; but for average winter work put 
on two suits of medium weight all-wool underwear, 
instead of one heavy one, moleskin trousers (heavy 
Mackinaws chafe), wool overshirt, Mackinaw shirt 
worn with tail outside, so it can easily be removed 
and worn behind you when not needed, the rubber 
" overs " and socks mentioned above, a Mackinaw 
cap with visor and ear laps, large, old kid gloves, 
and thick, woolen mittens held by a cord around the 

In buying Mackinaws get none but the best qual-^ 
ity. Cheap Mackinaw is shoddy, or part cotton, 
and soaks up moisture like a sponge. A good grade 
sheds rain so long as the nap is not worn off; then it 
can be waterproofed by the lanolin process. It is 
noiseless, and stands rough usage. The natural gray 
color is best, except where the law requires you to 
wear red for protection against gun-bearing fools. 
(About this, saith our friend Crossman: "Yes, 
some fellow might take you for a deer if you wore 
-m inconspicuous color in the woods, but what 
would you ? He'd take you for a zebra if you wore 


green and yellow, or shoot you for a forest fire it 
you wore flaming crimson.") 

Clothing for Women. — So far as materials go, 
the same rules hold good for women in field and 
<:amp as for men. 

The skirt, of course, should be short. For ca- 
noeing or forest travel it should come just below the 
knee. A Norfolk jacket, flannel waist or shirt, 
bloomers, cloth leggings, strong but light-weight and 
flexible shoes with broad, low heels, a soft felt hat, 
sweater jacket, and waterproofs — these suggest 
themselves. Ribbed cotton underwear may be worn 
on hot days, but fine woolen garments should be in 
reserve for the inevitable wet and chilly times. 

Properly dressed for the woods, and not overbur- 
dened, the average woman can keep up anywhere 
with the average office man ; but in a tight or draggy 
skirt she is simply hopeless. For real wilderness 
travel riding breeches, cut full at the knee, are far 
better than a skirt. A buttoned skirt that can be 
slipped on readily may be worn over them on occa- 
sion, as when approaching some village or camp 
where people are not yet civilized enough to approve 
common sense in a woman's costume. Alice Mac- 
Gowan was fairly driven out of a mountain county 
in Kentucky because she wore riding breeches, and 
yet many's the time I have seen a mountain woman 
riding astride a man's saddle in an undivided long 
skirt. O Modesty, what crimes have been com- 
mitted in thy name ! 


When one is going into fixed camp, the best car- 
tier for his personal belongings is a common steamer 
trunk — a light one, but long enough to take in the 
fishing rods. For canoe, pack train, or automobile, 
the kit will be much smaller, of course, and may be 
carried in one of the bed rolls already described, or 
in a knapsack, or a dunnage bag, according to cir- 

Dunnage Bag. — A common sailor's bag or 
" war bag " (simple canvas sack closed by a pucker- 
ing cord) has the merit of simplicity, but it is not 

Fig. loo. — 
Dunnage Bag 


Fig. loi. — 

Kit or Provision 


Fig. I02. — 
Screw Hook Fas- 
tening for Box 

water-tight. If a bag is used for packing, get from, 
a camp outfitter what he calls a duffel bag (Fig, 
icx)), of waterproof canvas, made with an inside 
neck or throat-piece that is tied tightly before the 



outside Is closed. Then it will keep the contents 
dry even if your graft should fill or capsize. It 
should be about 3 i^eet long and 12 inches in diame- 
ter. Get a good quality, reasonably snag-proof, and 
with extra-strong seams and handles. If it is to be 
shipped as baggage, have it fasten with chain and 
padlock. I would not use a bag at all unless it was 
perfectly water-tight, for that is Its only point of 
superiority; on the other hand, it is bothersome Jfe^ 
pack, and when you want anything out of a bag X 
you generally have to dump all th^ contents ^n tl^e,. % 
ground to find It. ^ //;>^. O^ 4^ 

The pack shown In Fig. loi Is almost as good 
protection against wet, and a deal handier. The 
top edge, AB, is stiffened by a stick, to hang It up 
by in camp, and there are pockets to keep things 
separated. To close it, fold in the sides, bringing 
front and back together, roll up, and strap. 

Ditty Boxes, Pouches. — Everyone will fit up 
chese things to suit himself. When practicable to 
carry It, I prefer to put my small odds-and-ends In 
one or two low cigar boxes (the 50-sIze), with par- 
titions, the lid being secured by a small screw-hook 
(Fig. 102). Otherwise little bags of cloth or soft 
leather answer the purpose. 

As for pouches to carry on one's person, my rea- 
sons tor not liking them will be given under the 
head of Walkixg Trips, In Volume II. 

Hatchet. — A woodsman should carry a hatchet, 
and he should be as critical in selecting It as In buy- 
ing a gun. The notion that a heavy hunting knife 
can do the work of a hatchet Is a delusion. When 
it comes to cleaving carcasses, chopping kindling, 
blazing thick-barked trees, driving tent pegs or trap 
stakes, and keeping up a bivouac fire, the knife never 
was made that will compare with a good tomahawk. 
The common hatchets of the hardware stores are 
unfit for a woodsman's use. They have broad 
blades with beveled edge, and they are generally 
made of poor, brittle stuff. A camper's hatchet 


should have the edge and temper of a good axe. It 
must be light enough to carry in. or on one's knap- 
sack, yet ft should bite deep in timber. The best 
hatchet I have used (and it has been vi^ith me in the 
mountains for seven or eight years) is one shown in 
Fig. 103, except that the handle is a straight one, 
17-inch, that I made myself. Its w^eight, with 
leather sheath, is i lb. 10 oz. With this keen little 

Fig. 103. — Hatchet 

tool I have cut many a cord of the hardest woods — 
hickory, oak, dogwood, beech, etc. — up to young 
trees eight or more inches thick, often laying in a 
winter night's wood with it. (The way to learn 
chopping is to go slow, give all your attention to 
making every blow tell just where it is needed, and 
don't strike too hard.) 

Sheath Knife.— On the subject of hunting 
knives I am tempted to be diffuse. In my green 
and callow days I tried nearly everything in the 
knife line from a shoemaker's skiver to a machete, 
and I had knives made to order. The conventional 
hunting knife is, or was until recently, of the familiar 
dime-novel pattern invented by Colonel Bowie. It 
is too thick and clumsy to whittle with, much too 
thick for a good skinning knife, and too sharply 
pointed to cook and eat with. It is always tempered 
too hard. When put to the rough service for which 
it is supposed to be intended, as in cutting through 
the ossified false ribs of an old buck, it is an even 
bet that out will come a nick as big as a saw-tooth 
— and Sheridan forty miles from a grindstone! 
Siirh a knife, ^s 4iaped ^xpresslv for stabbing, which 


is about the very last thing that a woodsman evcT 
has occasion to do, our lamented grandmothers to 
the contrary notwithstanding. 

Many hunters do not carry sheath knives, saying 
(and it is quite true) that a common jackknife will 
skin anything from a squirrel to a bear. Still, I 
like a small, light sheath knife. It is always open 
and *' get-at-able," ready not only for skinning game 
snd cleaning fish, but for cutting sticks, slicing bread 
and bacon and peeling " spuds." It saves the pocket 
knife from wet and messy work, and preserves its 
edge for the fine jobs. 

For years I used knives of my own design, because 
there was nothing on the market that met my notion 
of what a sensible, practical sheath knife should be ; 
but w^e have it now in the knife here shown (Fig. 
104). It is of the right size (4^-inch blade), the 

Fig. 104. — Sheath Knife 

right shape, and the proper thinness. I ground the 
front part of the back of mine to a blunt bevel edge 
for scaling fish and disarticulating joints. The 
sheath being flimsy, and the buttoned band a nui- 
sance, I made one of good leather that binds well up 
on the handle and is fastened together with copper 
rivets besides the sewing. 

Cutlery should be of the best steel obtainable. 
Knicks and dull edges are abominations, so use 
knives and hatchets for nothing but w^hat they were 
made for, and whet them a little every day that they 
are in service. 

Pocket Knife. — The jackknife has one stout 
blade equal to whittling seasoned hickory, and two 
small blades, of which one is ground thin for such 
surgery as you may have to perform (keep it clean). 
Beware of combination knives; they may be pas5- 


able corkscrews and can openers, but that is about 

Compass. — This instrument may not often be 
needed to guide one's course, but it is like the pro- 
verbial pistol in Texas. Besides, it is useful in read- 
ing a map, and indispensable for route sketching. 
If you get one of the common kind with both ends 
simply pointed and the north one blued or blackened 
scratch B = N (Blue equals North) on the case. 
This seems like an absurd precaution, does it not? 
Well, it will not seem so if you get lost. Tlie first 
time that a man loses his bearings in the wilderness 
his wits refuse to work. He cannot, to save his life, 
remember whether the black end of the needle is 
north or south. Once when I got lost in the 
big woods I was not frightened, and yet I did a per- 
fectly idiotic thing: to hold my compass level and 
steady I set it on the thick muzzle of my rifle barrel! 
That made the needle swing away out of true. It 
was ten minutes before I thought of this, and tried 
again, with all iron carefully put aside. That shows 
what a dunderhead a fellow can be, even when he is 
fairly cool. 

If dust accumulates inside the case of a compass 
it may interfere a little with its true pointing, and 
moisture will do so. But, so long as the needle 
moves freely, do not quarrel with it, no matter how 
sure you may think you are that it has been be- 

A compass with revolving dial (card compass) is 
somewhat easier to use than one with a needle, be- 
cause the N on the dial alwaj^s points north, no mat- 
ter which way you turn ; but it must be rather bulky, 
to traverse freely, is not so sensitive as a needle, and 
wears the pivot faster. 

There are compasses with dials illuminated by a 
radio-active substance that are handy to use at night. 
The old-fashioned " luminous " compasses that have 
to be exposed to sunlight every day are not worth 
the extra cost, for you will forget to attend to them. 


Anv'Avay, a woodsman should carry a pocket electric 
flasher, and, with that along, a common compass 
serves very well. 

My favorite compass is of a pattern known as the 
" Explorer's," as here shown (Fig. 105), except that 
it has a hinged cover. Twice I have 
crushed the glasses of open faced com- 
passes and ruined the pivots. The 
moveable arrow is to be set toward 
one's objective, when the needle points 
north ; it then indicates the general di- 
rection of the course. The dial is of 
l^ inches diameter, and is divided 
mto spaces of two degrees, reading Fig. 105. — 
from left to right, which is better for ^""^^^^H '^j^^_ 
an amateur than the contrary reading j.^^ 
of a surveyor's compass. 

The use of the compass will be explained in Vol. 
II, under the head of Route Sketching. 

I wear the instrument in a small pocket sewed on 
my shirt for that purpose, so It fits, and attach it to 
H button-hole by a short, strong cord. A long cord 
would catch in brush. If the compass is carried 
in a large pocket it will flop out when you stoop 
over or fall down. Sometimes, when mapping, I 
nave worn one in a leather bracelet, like a wrist- 
watch ; but a better way is to attach it, at such tmie, 
to the little board that your cross-section paper is 
tacked on. 

Watch. — Ordinarily a cheap watch Is good 
enough for the woods. If you do carry a good one, 
and it is open-faced, there is a good way to protect it 
from wet that I read some 3^ears ago in a sportsman's 
journal. This also helps to keep it from falling out 
of a pocket. '' To keep one's watch dry, even though 
you go overboard, take a piece of pure rubber dental 
dam 8 inches square, put the watch In the center, and 
bring the rubber together at the stem, tying the 
puckered up rubber with a bit of strings When you 
wkh to see the face, simply stretch the rubber over 


the front and you can see the hands clearly through 


If it Is desired to make a sketch-map of some 
region for which you cannot obtain a governmenL 
topographical sheet, and the country is too rough 
for pacing, it will help if one member of the party 
carries a stop-watch, with which to estimate distances 
by the sound of pistol shots, as described in Vol. II. 

Whistle. — A party traveling in thick woods 
with only an old line of blazes to guide them may 
have to deploy to find the marks. It will save time, 
and perhaps a good deal of searching for each other, 
if they have shrill whistles and a prearranged code 
5f signals. The army officer's whistle is a good one. 

Maps. — Write to The Director, U. S. Geolog- 
ical Survey, Washington, D. C, for an index map 
showing what topographical sheets have been pub- 
lished for the State that you are to travel in. These 
sheets are sold at ten cents each (no stamps). 
Their character is described as follows: 

The United States Geological Survey has been engaged 
since its organization in making a topographic survey and 
map of the United States. The unit of survey is a quad- 
rangle 15', 30', or 1° in extent each way, covering an 
area of one-sixteenth, one-fourth, or one " square de- 
gree," The unit of publication is an atlas sheet 16^ by 
20 inches, and each sheet is a topographic map of one of 
the above areas. As the atlas sheets are uniform in size, 
the greater the area covered the smaller the scale of the 
map. The scale of the full degree sheet is i: 250,000, 
that of the 30' sheet is i: 125,000, and that of the 15' 
sheet 1 : 62,500. A sheet is designated by the name of 
some well-known place or feature appearing on it, and 
the names of adjoining published sheets are printed on 
the margins. The maps are engraved on copper and 
printed from stone. The cultural features, such as roads, 
railroads, cities, towns, etc., as well as all lettering, are 
in black; all water features are printed in blue; while 
the hill features are shown by brown contour lines. 
The contour interval varies with the scale of the map 
and the relief of the country. 

These maps vary in merit. For some of the 
wilder and rougher regions they are only recon- 



aolssance maps and full of minor inaccuracies; but 
they are revised from time to time. A good part 
of the continental United States has already been 

Maps may be cut in sections and mounted on 
muslin in such way that they fold conveniently for 
the pocket, but there should be a cover to protect 
them from soiling and wet. 

A better w^ay is to use what the French call a 
liseur de cartes. There are many models and sizes, 
but all are alike in principle. The simplest form is 
a leather pocket to contain map sections, faced with 

Fig. 106. — Fig. 107. — 

Map Case U. S. A. Dispatch Case 

transparent celluloid, ruled in squares, for the par- 
ticular section in use at the time. Then there is no 
need of mounting the map on cloth (such a backing 
is likely to loosen in the humid air of the forest, 
and the edges will fray), nor is there risk of the 
map being soiled, torn, injured by rain, or blown 

If one has much mapping, sketching, or writing 
to do, he may well carry a military dispatch case, 
of which one pattern is shown in Fig. 106, made of 
olive drab web. with celluloid windows divided into 


I -inch squares, pockets for stationery, pencils, di- 
viders, etc., and fitted with a military compass, or 
not, as one desires. The regulation U. S. Army 
dispatch case is of leather (Fig. 107). 

For ordinary purposes a pocket case is more con- 
venient. The London tackle makers, C. Farlow & 
Co., sell, at 5s. 6d. postpaid, a leather " fly and cast 
case," 5 X 4}^ inches, with six transparent pockets 
of celluloid. A topographical sheet by the U. S. 
Geological Survey cuts into twelve sections that fit 
these pockets, two in each, back to back. Number 
the sections to show how they join. Small sheets of 
quadrille ruled paper for notes and route sketching 
go in the same case. The maps can readily be con- 
sulted without the bother of unfolding in a wind, 
and are protected. 

Stationery. — Note-books and writing paper 
should be quadrille ruled, for convenience in map- 
ping and drawing to scale. A loose-leaf memoran- 
dum book is best: then you can file your notes in a 
safe place every evening. Postal cards may suffice 
for correspondence. If envelopes are carried, let 
them be of linen, and take along a small stick of 
sealing-wax. Linen wears better than paper in the 
pocket of a native messenger. Gummed envelopes, 
in a moist climate, seal themselves before 3^ou want 
to use them. Sealing-wax thwarts the inquisitive 
rural postmaster and his family. On the route out 
from camp your mail may go through many hands: 
a bon entendeur salut! Carry stamps in books, not 

A self-filling fountain pen, and a bottle of ink 
with screw top held tight by a spring, an indelible 
pencil for marking specimens or packages for ship- 
ment, and several large rubber bands, may be needed, 
according to circumstances. 

Take along an almanac to regulate the watch, 
show the moon's changes (tides, if near the coast), 
and, by them, to determine the day of the month 
and week, which one is very apt to forget when he 


IS away from civilization. Have a time-table of the 
railroad that you expect to return by. 

Matchbox. — Do not omit a waterproof match- 
box, of such pattern as has a cover that cannot drop 
off. I prefer a flat one. It can be opened wirh 
one hand. The matches in this box are to be used 
only in emergency. Carry the daily supply loose 
where you can get at them. For this purpose I like 
a pigskin pocket with snap-button, worn on the belt. 
The matches I waterproof, before starting, by dip- 
ping them half-length in shellac varnish thinned 
with alcohol to the right consistency, which is found 
by experiment, and laying them out separately on a 
newspaper to dry. This is better than using paraf- 
fine or collodion, because shellac does not wear off, 
and it is itself inflammable, like sealing-wax. 
Matches so treated can be left a long time in water 
without spoiling. 

A bit of candle is a handy thing to start fire with 
wet wood, besides its other obvious use in an emer- 
gency. Sick-room candles are less bulky than com- 
mon ones, burn brighter, and last longer. 

Flashlight. — To find things in the tent at 
night, or to find one's way if belated, a pocket elec- 
tric flasher is so useful that a camper should always 
carry one. Get one with round edges that will not 
wear holes in the pocket. The kind shaped like a 
fountain pen is all right in some cases, but not on 
hunting or fishing trips: the less bright metal you 
expose, the better. 

Eye Glasses. — If you wear them, carry a spare 
pair; the woods are hard on such things. 

The glare of the sun on water, or snow, or in 
deserts, is often very trying. The best sun glasses 
are what are called shooting glasses, of amber color, 
w^hich excludes the ultra-violet rays. They are 
large enough to protect the eyes against wind, dust, 
and flying insects. They come handy when one is 
pursued for an hour by a swarm of *' red pepper " 


gnats that are bent on suicide and on blinding some 
body in doing it. 

First Aid Kits. — There are many kinds of 
pocket medicine cases, and of first aid boxes fitted 
with both medical and surgical supplies. Most of 
them are too large and heavy to be carried con- 
stantly on the person when a man is afield : they will 
be left in camp — and camp is not the place where 
accidents are most likely to occur. 

It is quite important that the little store of first 
aid appliances that one does keep always at hand 
should be contained in a case that is air-tight and 
aseptic, yet easy to open and close. I have not seen 
a ready fitted emergency case that is so, except the 
soldier's first aid packet, which is hermetically sealed 
in either tin or impermeable cloth. This package 
contains a triangular bandage, one or two compresses 
of sublimated gauze, two safety pins, and instruc- 

A triangular bandage is made by dividing a piece 
of muslin a yard square into halves by a diagonal 
cut joining two opposite corners, and thoroughly 
sterilizing it. Cuts are printed on it showing how 
to bandage any major part of the body. Roller 
bandages are difficult for untrained people to handle, 
but anyone can see almost at a glance how to use the 
triangular one. A folded neckerchief, or any tri- 
angular piece of cloth, will do as a makeshift, if an 
aseptic dressing is first applied, in case of an open 
wound. How to fold the bandage before applying 
is shown in Fig. io8. A tourniquet to check bleed- 
ing is made by folding into a narrow cravat, as indi- 
cated, and then twisting into rope form. 

The soldier's packet is intended for a first dressing 
of gunshot wounds, fractures (with the aid of im- 
provised splints), and other serious injuries. One 
would not care to open it if he merely had cut his 
thumb, skinned his knuckle, or blistered his heel. 
Yet it is the lesser injuries that we are most apt to 
suffer^ and they certainly should be treated anti- 


septically on the spot, lest grave consequences fol- 

So, get a small tin tobacco box, flat, with rounded 
corners ; boil it in two waters, and dry thoroughly. 
Then pack it as follows: From the American Na' 
tional Red Cross, Washington, D. C, get a packet 
of dressings for small cuts, etc., and one of fingei 
dressings. The former dressing is a gauze com< 
press, 3x3 inches, sewed to a muslin bandage an 
inch wide and a yard long; the latter is similar but 
smaller. Get from them also a few ampules of 
3/^% tincture of iodine in wooden containers. 
All these are cheap, but very effective and easy to 
apply. Put one large dressing, a couple of smaller 

Fig. 108. — 

To Fold Triangular Bandage. ABC D — Folds foi 

Broad Cravat. AB, ef, gh — Folds for Narrow Cravat 

ones, and an ampule, in your tin box, and the rest 
in the camp medical kit. 

At the druggist's get some large capsules, and tab- 
lets of cascara, intestinal antiseptic, aspirin, potas- 
sium permanganate, and strychnine. Put a few tab- 
lets of each in capsule, label, and stow in box. 
Calomel and epsom salts may be added (one dose 
jf the latter), or what you please. Fill whatever 
room is left with absorbent cotton. Then seal the 
box air-tight by running a narrow strip of the ad- 
hesive plaster around it. This is easy to open, and 
can be used over again many times. 

In treating a wound, seize the end of the ampule 
that is encased in gauze and break off or crush the 
poin* of the glass, then hold the broken end down 


until the gauze is saturated with the iodine, clap 
directly to the surface of the wound, and apply 
either the larger or smaller dressing. A little emer- 
gency case of this sort is one of the most valuable 
pocket pieces that a man can carry on an outing. 

Insect " dopes " are discussed in Chapter XIV. 

Pocket Repair Kit. — Only a little of this and 
that, fitted into a quite small wallet. A pair of 
tiny, sharp-pointed scissors for trimming dressings, 
rigging tackle, and so on ; pointed tweezers that can 
be used as dressing forceps, to remove splinters, and 
in manipulating gut for flies or leaders; some dental 
floss for emergency repairs on rods and the like; 
some I -inch adhesive plaster; a needle or two, waxed 
linen thread on card, spare buttons, safety pins; one 
or two large rubber bands; a spare shoe lace; some 
strong twine ; two feet of copper snare wire ; a short 
rigged fishline, a few assorted hooks, minnow hooks 
with half the barb filed off, two or three split shot 
(tackle invaluable if you get lost) ; pipe cleaners 
(if you smoke) : this exhausts the list of my own se- 

Toilet Articles. — A small cake of soap in an 
oiled silk bag or a rubber tobacco pouch is convenient 
for light marching: compact, and does not rattle 
around. " Grandpa's " tar soap makes a good 
lather in any kind of water, hard or soft, warm or 
cold. Towels should be old (soft) and rather small 
(easy to wash and dry out). A pocket mirror is 
handy not only for toilet purposes but to examine 
mouth and throat or in removing a foreign substance 
from the eye. Other articles as required. On a 
hard trip cut out all but towel, soap, toothbrush, 
comb, and mirror. 

Camera. — One cuts his coat according to his 
cloth, but if you can afford a camera with quick lens 
and high-speed shutter, it wnll pay well in good pic- 
tures. On wilderness trips it is the rule, not the 
'exception, that you must *' shoot " when the light is 


Again, you want a picture that tells a story, a true 
story, and, nine times out of ten, the only way to 
get it is by a snapshot taken unawares. When peo- 
ple pose for a camp scene or any other picture they 
are self-conscious, stiff, or showing off. 

Your chance to get a story-picture always pops 
up unexpectedly. You must work quickly, or not 
at all. There is no chance to manoeuvre for posi- 
tion, no time to wait on the sun. And if your 
camera is too large to carry in a pocket or on your 
belt, then, two to one, you haven't got it with you. 
So get a camera not over 3^ x 4j4> with special lens 
and shutter, if you can. At best you will spoil a 
good many exposures, and you can well afford to 
have the really good ones enlarged. 

A handy way to carry a camera is to remove the 
sling, cut two slits in back of leather case, and wear 
it on your belt over the hip. Then it is out of the 
way, does not dangle when you stoop nor flop when 
you run, and yet is instantly at your service. 

Field Glasses. — The only satisfactory ones are 
those small enough to go with you everywhere, yet 
with good definition and wide field of view. This 
means prism binoculars of moderate power, say 6 
diameters, or perhaps 8 for sheep or goat hunting. 

Opera glasses do very well for bird study. 

Gome other articles of personal equipment, such 
as knapsacks and their substitutes, canteens, and in- 
dividual cooking kits, will be discussed in Vol. II 
under the head of Walking Trips. 


When a party camps where fresh meat and farm 
products can be procured as they are wanted, its 
provisioning is chiefly a matter of taste, and calls 
for no special comment here. But to have good 
meals in the wilderness is a different matter. A 
man will eat five or six pounds a day of fresh foodc 
That is a heavy load on the trail. And fresh meat, 
dairy products, fruit, and vegetables, are generally 
too bulky, too perishable. So it is up to the woods- 
man to learn how to get the most nourishment out 
of the least weight and bulk, in materials that 
" keep " well. 

Light outfitting, as regards food, is mainly a ques- 
tion of how much water we are willing to carr}' in 
our rations. For instance, canned peaches are 88 
per cent, water. Can one afford to carry so much 
water from home when there is plenty of it at camp,^ 

The following table is suggestive : 

More than % Water. 

Fresh milk, fruit, vegetables (e^ccept potatoes). 
Canned soups, tomatoeSj peaches, pears, etc. 

More than H Water. 

Fresh beef, veal, mutton, poultry, eggs, potatoef 
Canned corn, baked beans, pineapple. 
Evaported milk (unsweetened). 

More than Y^ Water. 

Fresh bread, rolls, pork chops. 

Potted chicken, etc. 


Canned blackberries. 


i"Kuvit)iUi\:5 r79 

Less than Vs Water. 

Dried apples, apricots, peaches, prunes* 
Fruit jelly. 

Less than y^ IVater. 

Salt pork. Bacon. Dried fish. Butter. 

Desiccated eggs. Concentrated soups. 

Powdered milk. 

Wheat flour, corn meal, etc. Macaroni. 

Rice, oatmeal, hominy, etc. 

Dried beans, split peas. 

Dehydrated vegetables. 

Dried dates, figs, raisins. 

Orange marmalade. Sugar. Chocolate. 

Nuts. Nut butter. 

Although this table is good in its way, it is not 
a fair measure of the relative value of foods. Even 
the solid part of some foodstuffs contains a good 
deal of refuse (fresh potatoes 20 per cent.), while 
others have none. 

Nutritive Values. — The nutritive elements of 
foodstuffs are protein, a little mineral matter, fats, 
and carbohydrates. Protein is the basis of muscle, 
bone, tendon, cartilage, skin, and the corpuscles of 
the blood. Fats and carbohydrates supply heat and 
muscular energy. In other words, the human body 
is an engine; protem keeps it in repair; fats and 
carbohydrates are the fuel to run it. 

Familiar examples of proteids are lean meat and 
white of egg. The chief food fats are fat meat, 
butter, lard, oil, and cream. Carbohydrates are 
starchy foods (flour, cereals, etc.) and sugar (sweets 
of almost any kind). 

Protein is the most important element of food, 
because nothing else can take its place in building up 
tissues and enriching the fluids of the body, whereas, 
in emergency, it can also supply power and heat, and 
thus run the human machine for a while without 
other fuel. 

Men can live on foods deficient in protein, such 
as rice and potatoes, but they become anemic, weak, 
and subject to beriberi, pellagra, or other serious 


disease. Anyone can observe for himself the evil 
effects of a diet poor in protein but rich in heating 
power by traveling through our " hog and hom- 
iny belt." Fat pork contains hardly any protein; 
neither do the cabbage and potatoes that usually 
flank it on the negro's or poor-white's table. As 
for corn bread, when made as a plain hoecake or 
the like, it is in much the same class, and what 
protein it does contain is difficult to digest. 

On the other hand, an undue proportion of lean 
meat, fish, dried beans, and other high-proteid foods, 
brings another train of ills. As Dr. Atwater says, 
"A dog can live on lean meat: he can convert its 
material into muscle and its energy into heat and 
muscular power. Man can do the same; but such 
a one-sided diet would not be best for the dog, and 
it would be still worse for the man." 

The problem of a well-balanced ration consists 
in supplying daily the right proportion of nutritive 
elements in agreeable and digestible form. The 
problem of a campaign ration is the same, but cut- 
ting out most of the water and waste in which fresh 
foods abound. However, in getting rid of the 
water in fresh meats, fruits, and vegetables, w**. 
lose, unfortunately, much of the volatile essences 
that give these foods their good flavors. This loss 
— and it is a serious one — must be made up by 
the camp cook changing the menu as often as he can, 
by varying the ingredients and the processes of cook- 

Variety is quite as welcome at the camp board 
as anjovhere else — in fact more so, for it is harder 
to get. Variety need not mean adding to the load- 
It means substituting, say, three 5-lb. parcels for one 
15-lb. parcel, so as to have something "different" 
from day to day. 

There is an old school of campers who affect to 
scorn such things. "' We take nothing with us," 
they say, " but pork, flour, baking powder, salt, 
sugar, and coffee — our guns and rods furnish ws 
\^Jirietv." This sounds sturdy, but there is a dea^ 


of humbug In it. A spell of bad weather may de 
feat the best of hunters and fishermen. Even grant- 
ing that luck is good, the kill is likely to be of one 
kind at a time. With only the six articles named, 
nobody can serve the same game in a variety of 
ways. Now, consider a moment. How would you 
like to sit down to nothing but fried chicken and 
biscuit, three times a day? Chicken everlastingly 
fried in pork grease — and, if you tire of that, well, 
eat fried " sow-belly," and sop your bread in the 
grease! It is just the same with trout or bass as 
it is with chicken ; the same with pheasant or duck, 
rabbit or squirrel or bear. The only kind of wild 
meat that civilized man can relish for three con- 
secutive meals, served in the same fashion, is veni- 
son of the deer family. Go, then, prepared to lend 
variety to your menu. Food that palls is bad food 
■ — worse in camp than anywhere else, for you can't 
escape to a restaurant. 

Food as a Source of Energy. — The energy 
developed by food is measured in calories. A calorie 
is the amount of heat required to raise one pound 
of water through four degrees Fahrenheit. A man 
at moderately active muscular work requires about 
3,400 calories of food-fuel a day; one at hard mus- 
cular work, about 4,150; one at very hard work, 
about 5,500 calories (Atwater's figures). 

According to the latest data supplied me by the 
U. S. Department of Agriculture (February, 19 16) 
the fuel value of protein is about 1,815 calories per 
pound, that of carbohydrates is the same, and that 
of fats is about 4,080 calories per pound. 

" A pound of wheat flour, which consists largely 
of starch, has an average fuel value of about 1,625 
calories, and a pound of butter, which is mostly fat, 
about 3,410 calories. These are only about one- 
eighth water. Whole milk, which is seven-eighths 
w^ater, has an average fuel value of 310 calories per 
pound; cream, which has more fat and less water, 
865 calories, and skim milk, which is whole milk 
after the cream has been removed, 165 calories. 


This high fuel value of fat explains the economy ot 
nature in storing fat in the body for use in case of 
need. Fat is the most concentrated form of body 

I have compiled the following table of food values, 
with special reference to the camp commissariat, 
from various reports of the U. S. Department of 
Agriculture. Some of the figures for fuel value, I 
am informed, were computed by using the factors 
given above ; others were derived from actual deter- 
minations of the heat of combustion and the diges- 
tibility of the food materials. — 



Food materials 
(as purchased) 

Animal Food 
Beef, fresh: 

Loin o 



Beef, cured: 



Salted (mess beef) 

Tongue, pickled . . 
Beef, canned: 




Tongue, ground . . 
Pork, cured: 

Bacon, smoked . . . 

Ham smoked .... 

Salt pork 


Pork, canned: 

Ham, deviled .... 



♦sausage, canned: 




Soups, canned (not 



Cream of celery. . 


Poultry, fresh: 



Per ct. 



1 1.2 
II. 9 












Per ct. 










100. o 






14.4 12.6 

Table continued 


Per ct. 



1. 1 

Per ct. 










2. I 
















1, 4-' 5 









Food materials 


1 ^ 




(as purchased) 











Per ct. 


22. i 

Per ct. 



Per ct. 

Per ct. 








Poultry, canned: 

Chicken, boned . . 






Chicken, potted . . 


20. ■{ 



Terrine de foie gras 






Turkey, potted . . 





*."rogs' legs: 





Fish, fresh, dressed: 


small-mouthed . . 



. — . 



Perch, white .... 




2'< ' 





^0 - 



9 5 




Trout, brook 

II. 9 

Trout, lake 






Yish, cured: 

Cod, salt 






Halibut, smoked . . 






Herring, smoked. . 






Fish, canned: 








12. I 

. — . 


Shellftsh, fresh: 

Clams, round .... 






Oysters, " solids ". 







Fresh hen's 






Evaporated, whole. 






Evaporated, yolk.. 

Fresh milk, w^hole. 
























Evaporated, plain. 



II. I 



Milk powder, from 

skimmed milk • . 






Butter, Cheese: 







Cheese, full cream 





Vegetable Food 

Flour, etc.: 

Corn meal 






Corn, parched .... 






Corn, popped .... 






Hominy (grits) .. 






Oats, rolled 






Macaroni, etc. . . . 












Rye flour 








Wheat breakfast 


12. 1 






Wheat flour, entire 


Wheat flour, roller 



II. 4 





Food materials 
(as purchased) 

Bread, etc.: 
Boston brown 


Cake, sweet 

Crackers, soda . > 
Hoecake (plain 
corn bread) . . . 


Rye bread 

Wheat bread, white 

Whole-wheat bread 

Candy, plain 

Cane molasses . . . 

Cherry jelly 


Maple sirup 

Orange marmalade 

Sugar, granulated. 
Vegetables, fresh: 



V^egetables, canned: 

Beans, baked .... 

Corn, sweet 



V^egetables, dried: 

Beans, navy 

Carrots, desiccated 

Peas, split 



Cocoanut, desic- 


Peanut butter .... 


Fruits, fresh: 






Fruits, canned: 


Cherries . 

Olives, pickled . . 



Fruits, dried: 



Dates, pitted 


Prunes, pitted . . . 





Olive Oil 


Per ct. 


9 7 














2. 1 



Per ct. 















100. o 


Per ct. 


53 - 



100. o 








17. 1 
1 7. 1 





II. 6 

21. 1 
II. 6 




Per ct. 




















Coffee, " cereal coffee," tea, condiments, and common 
beef extracts contain practically no nutriment, their func- 
tion being to stimulate the nerves and digestive organs, to 
add agreeable flavor, or, in the case of salt, to furnish 
a necessary mineral ingredient. 

Digestibility. — In applying the above table we 
must bear in mind the adage that " we live not 
upon what we eat but upon what we digest." Some 
foods rich in protein, especially beans, peas, and 
oat meal, are not easily assimilated, unless cooked 
for a longer time than campers generally can spare. 
A considerable part of their protein is liable to 
putrefy in the alimentary canal, and so be worse 
than wasted. An excess of meat or fish will do the 
same thing. Other foods of very high theoretical 
value are constipating if used in large amounts, as 
cheese, nuts, chocolate. 

The protein of animal food is more digestible than 
that of vegetable food by about 13 per cent, (aver- 
age), and the protein of wheat is more easily as- 
similated than that of corn or oats. I quote the 
following from an article on army rations by Dr. 
I Woods Hutchinson: 

" Every imaginable grain, nut, root, pith or pulp that 
contains starch has been tried out as a substitute for it 
[wheat] because these are either cheaper in proportion 
to their starch content than wheat or can be grown in 
climates and latitudes where wheat will not flourish. 
Corn has been tried in the subtropics, rice in the tropics, 
oats, rye and barley in the north temperate zone, potatoes, 
sago from the palm, and tapioca from the manioc root. 

" Only the net result can be given here, which is that no 
civilized nation that can raise the money or provide the 
transportation to get wheat will allow its army to live on 
any other yet discovered or invented grain or starch. 
Rice, corn meal, potatoes, sago and tapioca are, of course, 
ruled out at once, because they contain only starch and 
nothing to match in the slightest degree the twelve or 
fourteen per cent, of gluten, or vegetable meat, that gives 
wheat its supreme value. 

"After our first food analyses a desperate attempt was 
made to substitute corn for wheat, because it contained 
from five to seven per cent, of protein — called zein — a 
perfectly good protein in *h^ books and in the l^iboratories/ 


but it simply would not work in the held. Armies itd on 
it promptly showed signs of nitrogen starvation; aid, 
about thirty years later, up came our physiologists with 
the belated explanation that, though zein was a right- 
enough protein in composition and chemical structure, only 
about a third of it could be utilized in the human body. 

"Even the purely Oriental nations — the Japanese, Chi- 
nese and Hindus — born and brought up on rice, have 
formally abandoned it in their army ration and have en- 
deavored to substitute wheat for it, though expense and the 
inborn prejudices of their soldiers have proved consider- 
able obstacles. Troops or nations fed on rice are sub- 
ject to beriberi and are cured by a diet rich in protein^ 
either vegetable or animal, wheat or meat. Meat and 
wheat in the ration have wiped out four-fifths of the beri- 
beri in the Japanese army and navy. Those fed on corn 
become subject to pellagra, which is ravaging our South- 
ern States to-day. 

" As for the northern grains, barley, rye and oats, 
which also contain some gluten, these are all Inferior to 
wheat — rye and barley on account of their low protein 
content and considerable bulk of innutritions, gelatinous 
and gummy materials, which disturb the digestion; and 
oats on account of the irritating bitter extractives with 
which their high percentage of protein is combined. No- 
body but a Scotchman can live on oatmeal as his sole 
breadstuff; and it has taken generations of training and 
gallons of whisky on the side to enable him to dc it." 

This is not saying that the grains here condemned 
are not good and proper food when used in the right 
combination with other nutrients; but it is saying 
that neither of them is fit for continuous use as the 
mainstay of one's rations. 

Food Components. — Let us now consider the 
material of field rations, item by item. — 

Bacon. — Good old breakfast bacon worthily heads 
the list, for it is the campaigner's stand-by. It 
keeps well in any climate, and demands no special 
care in packing. It is easy to cook, combines well 
with almost anything, is handier than lard to fry 
things with, does just as well to shorten bread or 
biscuits, Is very nutritious, and nearly everybody 
likes it. Take It with you from home, for you can 
seldom buy it away from railroad towns. Get the 
boneless, in 5 to 8-lb. flitches. Let canned bacon 


alone: it lacks flavor, and costs more than it is 
worth. A little mould on the outside of a flitch 
does no harm, but reject bacon that is soft and 
watery, or with jellow fat, or with brownish or 
black spots in the lean. 

Salt Pork {alias middlings, sides, bellies, Old 
Ned, et al.). — Commendable or accursed, according 
to how it is used. Nothing quite equals it in bak- 
ing beans. Savory in some boiled dishes. When 
fried, as a piece de resistance, it successfully resists 
most people's gastric juices, and is nauseous to many. 
Purchaseable at most frontier posts and at many 
backwoods farms. 

Smoked Ham. — Small ones generally are tough 
and too salty. Hard to keep in warm or damp 
weather; moulds easily. Is attractive to blow-flies, 
which quickly fill it with " skippers," if they can 
get at it. It kept in a cheesecloth bag, and hung 
in a cool, airy place, a ham will last until eaten up, 
and will be relished. Ham will keep, even in warm 
weather, if packed in a stout paper bag so as to 
exclude flies. It will keep indefinitely if sliced, 
boiled, or fried, and put up in tins with melted lard 
poured over it to keep out air. 

Dried Beef. — Cuts from large hams are best. 
Of limited use in pick-up meals. A notorious thirst- 
breeder. Not comparable to *' jerked " beef, which, 
unfortunately, is not ia the market. (For the proc- 
ess of jerking venison, see Chapter XV.) 

Canned Meats and Poultry of all descriptions 
are quite unfit for steady diet. Devilled or potted 
ham, chicken, tongue, sausage, and the like, are 
endurable at picnics, and valuable in emergencies, 
as when a hard storm makes outdoor cooking im- 
possible. Canned corned beef makes a passable 

There is a great difference in quality of canned 
meats. The cheaper brands found in every grocery 
store are, generally, abominations. Common canned 
" roast beef," for example (which has never been 
'toasted at all. but boiled) is stringv, tasteless, and 


repugnant. Get catalogues from well-known gro- 
cers in the large cities who handle first-class goods. 

Never eat meat that has been standing in an 
opened can: it soon undergoes putrefactive changes. 
A bulged can (unless frozen) indicates spoiled con- 
tents. If ever you have to treat a case of ptomaine 
poisoning you will not soon forget it. 

Canned Soups. — These are wholesome enough, 
but the fluid kinds are very bulky for their meagre 
nutritive value. However, a few cans of consomme 
are fine for " stock " in camp soups or stews, and 
invaluable in case of sickness. Here, as with canned 
meat, avoid the country grocery kind. 

Condensed Soups. — Soup powders are a great 
help in time of trouble — but don't rely on them 
for a full meal. There are some that are complete 
in themselves and require nothing but 15 to 20 
minutes' cooking; others take longer, and demand 
(in small type on the label) the addition of ingredi- 
ents that generally you haven't got. Try various 
brands at home, till you find what you like. 

Cured Fish. — Shredded codfish, and smoked hali" 
but, sprats, boneless herring, are portable and keep 
well. They will be relished for variety sake. 

Canned Fish. — Not so objectionable as canned 
meat. Salmon and sardines are rich in protein. 
Canned codfish balls save a great deal of time in 
preparation, and are sometimes welcome when you 
have no potatoes for the real thing. But go light: 
these things are only for a change now and then, 
or for emergency use in bad weather. 

Eggs. — To vary the camp bill of fare, eggs are 
simply invaluable, not only by themselves, but as 
ingredients in cooking. Look at the cook's time- 
table at the end of this volume and observe how 
many of the best dishes call for eggs in making them 

When means of transportation permit, fresh eggs 
may be carried to advantage. A hand crate holding 
\:i dozen weighs about 24 pounds, filled. 

E^gs can be packed along in winter without dai?- 


ger of breakage by carrying them frozen. Do not 
try to boil a frozen egg: peel it as you would a hard- 
boiled one, and then fry or poach. 

To test an egg for freshness, drop it into cold 
water; if it sinks quickly it is fresh, if it stands on 
end it is doubtful, if it floats it is surely bad. 

To preserve eggs, rub them all over with vaseline, 
being careful that no particle of shell is uncoated. 
They will keep good much longer than if treated 
with lime water, salt, paraffine, water-glass or any 
of the other common expedients. 

On hard trips it is impracticable to carry eggs in 
the shell. Some campers break fresh eggs and pack 
them in friction-top cans. The yolks soon break, 
and they will keep but a short time. A good brand 
of desiccated eggs is the solution of this problem. 
It does away with all risk of breaking and spoiling, 
and reduces bulk and weight very much, as will be 
seen below. 

Desiccated eggs vary a great deal in quality ac- 
cording to material and process emplo3\"d. Con- 
demned storage eggs have been used by unscrupulous 
manufacturers, and so, it is said, have the eggs of 
sea-fowl. I have tried some brands that w^ere un- 
eatable by themselves, nor did they improve any 
dish I combined them with. On the other hand, I 
have had five or six years' experience with evapo- 
rated eggs made by an Iowa firm which make ex- 
cellent omelettes and scrambled eggs and are quite 
equal to fresh ones in bakestuffs and for various 
other culinary purposes. They are made from 
fresh hens' eggs {ivhole, but with sometimes more 
yolk added) by a strictly sanitary process. A i-lb. 
can, equal to about 3 dozen fresh eggs, measures 
6x3x3 inches and weighs i lb. 5 oz. gross. It 
costs little more than fresh eggs, and the powder 
will never spoil if kept dry. Of course, it cannot 
be used as fried, boiled, or poached eggs. For 
omelettes, etc., the powder must soak about an hour 
in cold or lukewarm water before using; it can be 
used dry in mixing dough. Thanks to this inven* 


tion, the camp flapjack need no longer be a culinary 

Desiccatefl eggs made of the yolks only are merely 
useful as ingredients in cooking. 

Milk. — Sweetened condensed milk (the " salve " 
of the lumberjacks) is distasteful to most people- 
Plain evaporated milk is the thing to carry — and 
don't leave it out if you can practicably tote it. The 
notion that this is a " baby food," to be scorned by 
real woodsmen, is nothing but a foolish conceit. 
Ftw things pay better for their transportation. It 
will be allowed that Admiral Peary knows some- 
thing about food values. Here is what he says in 
The North Pole: "The essentials, and the only es- 
sentials, needed in a serious arctic sledge journey, no 
matter what the season, the temperature, or the 
duration of the journey — whether one month or 
«ix — are four: pemmican, tea, ship's biscuit, con- 
densed milk. . . . The standard daily ration for 
work on the final sledge journey toward the Pole 
on all expeditions has been as follows: i lb. pem- 
mican, I lb. ship's biscuit, 4 oz. condensed milk, 
3/2 oz. compressed tea." 

Milk, either evaporated or powdered. Is a very 
important ingredient in camp cookery. Look again 
at the cook's time-table previously mentioned. 

Years ago I used to get an excellent powdered 
milk ^rom a New York outfitter. It dissolved 
readily, was quite creamy rich, and had none of the 
scalded taste that one notices in most brands of 
evaporated milk. Then it went out of the market, 
and I have looked for it in vain. It was made of 
whole milk, retaining the butter fat. That was 
why it was rich, and that is why it was not a com- 
mercial success, for it would not keep well in stor- 
age — the fatty part would turn rancid, or at least 
grow stale. 

I do not know of any but skim milk powder? 
now on sale, excepting certain high-priced ones sole! 
as food for infants or invalids, and none of these 
has the fresh milk flavor of the kind I got from the 


outfitter. However, skim milk powder is useful in 
cooking, and I would carry it where evaporated milk 
would be too heavy. 

Butter. — This is another '* soft " thing that pays 
its freight. Look up its nutritive value in the table 
already given. 

There is a w^estern firm that puts up very good 
butter hermetically sealed in 2-lb. cans. It will 
.keep indefinitely. 

For ordinary trips it suffices to pack butter firmly 
into pry-up tin cans which have been sterilized by 
thorough scalding and then cooled in a perfectly 
clean place. Keep it in a spring or in cold running 
water (hung in a net, or weighted with a rock) 
whenever you can. When traveling, wrap the cold 
can in a towel or other insulating material. 

If I had to cut out either lard or butter, I would 
keep the butter. It serves all the purposes of lard 
in cooking, is wholesomer, and, beyond that, it is 
the most concentrated source of energy that one can 
use with impunity. 

Cheese. — Cheese has nearly twice the tuel value 
of a porterhouse steak of equal w^eight, and it con- 
tains a fourth more protein. It is popularly sup- 
posed to be hard to digest, but in reality is not so, 
if used in moderation. The best kind for campers 
is potted cheese, or cream or *' snappy " cheese put 
up in tin foil. If not so protected from air it soon 
dries out and grows stale. A tin of imported 
Camembert w^ill be a pleasant surprise on some oc- 

Bread, Biscuits. — It is well to carry enough yeast 
bread for two or three days, until the game country 
is reached and camp routine is established. To kee; 
it fresh, each loaf must be sealed up in VN^axed papti 
or parchment paper (the latter is best, because it is 
tough, w^aterproof, grease-proof). Bread freezes 
easily; for cold-weather luncheons carry toasted 

Hardtack (pilot bread, ship biscuit) can be rec- 
ommended only for such trips or cruises as do not 


permit baking. It is a cracker prepared of plaiC' 
flour and water, not even salted, and kiln-dried to a 
chip, so as to keep indefinitely, its only enemies 
being weevils. Get the coarsest grade. To make 
hardtack palatable, toast it until crisp, or soak in 
hot coffee and butter it, or at least salt it. 

Swedish hardtack, made of whole rye flour, is 
good for a change. 

Plasmon biscuit, imported from England, is the 
most nutritious breadstuff I have ever used. It is 
a round cracker, firm but not hard, of good flavor, 
containing a large percentage of the protein of milk, 
six of the small biscuits holding as much proteid as 
a quarter of a pound of beef. Plasmon will be dis- 
cussed in Volume II, under Emergency Rations. 

Flour. — Graham and entire-wheat flours contain 
more protein than patent flour, but this is offset by 
the fact that it is not so digestible as the protein of 
standard flour. Practically there is little or no dif- 
ference between them in the amount of protein as- 
similated. The same seems to be true of their 
mineral ingredients. 

Many campers depend a good deal on self-raising 
flour because it saves a little trouble in mixing. 
But such flour is easily spoiled by dampness, it does 
not make as good biscuit or flapjacks as one can turn 
out in camp by doing his own mixing, and it will 
not do for thickening, dredging, etc. 

Flour and meal should be sifted before starting 
on an expedition : there will be no sieve in camp. 

Baking Powder. — Get the best, made with pure 
cream of tartar. It costs more than the alum pow- 
ders, and does not go so far, bulk for bulk ; but it 
is much kinder to the stomach. Baking soda will 
not be needed on short trips, but is required for 
longer ones, in making sour-dough, as a steady diet 
of baking-powder bread or biscuit will ruin the 
stomach, if persisted in for a considerable time. 
Soda also is useful medicinally. 

Corn Meal. — Some like yellow, some prefer 
white. y\\t flavor of freshly ground meal is best, 


but the ordinary granulated meal of commerce keeps 
better, because it has been kiln-dried. Corn meal 
should not be used as the leading breadstuff, for 
reasons already given, but johnnycake, corn pan- 
cakes, and mush, are a welcome change from hot 
wheat bread or biscuit, and the average novice at 
cooking may succeed better with them. The meal 
Is useful to roll fish in, before frying. 

Breakfast Cereals. — These according to taste, and 
for variety sake. Plain cereals, particularly oat 
meal, require long cooking, either in a double boiler 
or with constant stirring, to make them digestible ; 
and then there is a messy pot to clean up. They 
do more harm than good to campers who hurry 
their cooking. So it is best to buy the partially 
cooked cereals that take only a few minutes to pre- 
pare. Otherwise the " patent breakfast foods " 
have no more nutritive quality than plain grain; 
some of them not so much. The notion that bran 
has remarkable food value is a delusion: it actually 
makes the protein of the grain less digestible. As 
for mineral matter, to " build up bone and teeth and 
brawn," there is enough of It in almost any mixed 
diet, without swallowing a lot of crude fiber. 

Rice, although not very appetising by Itself, com- 
bines so well in stews or the like, and goes so well 
in pudding, that It deserves a place in the commis- 

Macaroni, etc. — The various paste (pas-tay), a* 
the Italians call them, take the place of bread, may 
be cooked In many ways to lend variety, and are 
especially good in soups, which otherwise would 
have little nourishing power. Spaghetti, vermicelli 
and noodles, all are good In their way. Break 
macaroni into Inch pieces, and pack so that Insects 
cannot get Into it. It is more wholesome than flap- 
jacks, and it " sticks to the ribs." 

Sweets. — Sugar Is stored-up energ}^, and Is as- 
similated more quickly than any other food. Men 
/n the open soon get to craving sweets„ 

The '' substitute " variously known as saccharin. 


saxin, crystallose, is no substitute at all, save in mere 
sweetening power (in this respect one ounce of it 
equals about eighteen pounds of sugar). This drug, 
which is derived from coal tar, has medicinal quali- 
ties and injures one's health if persistently taken. 
It has none of the nutritive value of sugar, and 
supplies no energy v/hatever. Its use in food prod- 
ucts is forbidden under the Federal pure-food law. 

Maple sugar is always welcome. Get the soft 
kind that can be spread on bread for luncheons. 
Sirup is easily made from it in camp by simply 
bringing it to a boil with the necessary amount of 
water. Ready-made sirup is mean to pack around. 

Sweet chocolate (not too sweet) has remarkable 
sustaining power. It will be mentioned further in 
Volume II, under Emergency Rations. 

When practicable, take along some jam and mar- 
malade. The commissaries of the British army were 
wise when they gave jam an honorable place 
in Tommy Atkins' field ration. Yes: jam for sol- 
diers in time ot war. So many ounces of it. sub- 
stituted, mind you, for so many ounces of the porky, 
porky, porky, that has ne'er a streak of lean. So, 
a little currant jelly with your duck or venison is 
worth breaking all rules for. Such conserves can 
be repacked by the buyer in pry-up cans that have 
been sterilized as recommended under the heading 

Fresh Vegetables. — The only ones worth taking 
along are potatoes and onions. Choose potatoes 
with small eyes and of uniform medium size, even 
if you have to buy half a bushel to sort out a peck. 
They are very heavy and bulky in proportion to 
their food value; so you cannot afford to be bur- 
dened with any but the best. Cereals and beanf 
take the place of potatoes when you go light. 

Fresh onions are almost indispensable for season- 
ing soups, stews, etc. A few of them can be taken 
along almost anywhere. I generally carry at least 
one, even on a walking trip. Onions are good for 
the suddenly overtaxed system, relieve the inordinate 


thirst that one experiences the first da}^ or two, 
and assist excretion. Freezing does not spoil 
onions if they are kept frozen until used. 

Beans. — A prime factor in cold weather camp- 
ing. Take a long time to cook ("soak all day 
and cook all night" is the rule). Cannot be 
cooked done at altitudes of five thousand ^eet and 
upward. Large varieties cook quickest, but the 
small white navy beans are best for baking. Pick 
them over before packing, as there is much waste. 

Split Peas. — Used chiefly in making a thick, 
nourishing soup. 

Dehydrated Vegetables. — Much of tht flavor 
of fresh vegetables is lost when the juice is ex- 
pressed or evaporated, but all of their nutriment 
is retained and enough of the flavor for them to 
serve as fair substitutes when fresh vegetables can- 
not be carried. They help out a camp stew, and 
may even be served as side dishes if one has but- 
ter\ and milk to season them. Generally they re- 
quire soaking (which can be done overnight) ; then 
they are to be boiled slowly until tender, taking 
about as much time as fresh vegetables. If cook- 
ing is hurried they will be woody and tasteless. 

Dehydrated vegetables are very portable, keep in 
any climate, and it is well to carry some on trips 
far from civilization. 

Canned Vegetables. — In our table of food values 
it will be noticed that the least nourishing article 
for its weight and bulk is a can of tomatoes. Yet 
these " airtights " are great favorites with outdoors- 
men, especially in the West and South, where fre- 
quently they are eaten raw out of the can. It is 
not so much their flavor as their acid that is grate- 
ful to a stomach overtaxed with fat or canned 
meat and hot bread three times a day. If wanted 
only as an adjuvant to soups, stews, rice, macaroni, 
etc., the more concentrated tomato puree will serve 
very^ w^ell. 

Canned corn (better still, '' kornlet," which is 


the concentrated milk of sweet corn) Is quite 
nourishing, and everybod}^ likes it. 

A few cans of baked beans {without tomato 
sauce) will be handy in wet weather. The B. & 
M. ^-Ib. cans are convenient for a lone camper 
or for two going light. 

Nuts. — A handful each of shelled nuts and 
raisins, with a cake of sweet chocolate, will carry 
a man far on the trail, or when he has lost it. The 
kernels of butternuts and hickory nuts have the 
highest fuel value of our native species; peanuts 
and almonds are very rich in protein ; Brazil nuts, 
filberts, and pecans, in fat. Peanut butter is a 
concentrated food that goes well in sandwiches. 
One can easily make nut butter of any kind (ex- 
cept almonds or Brazil nuts) for himself by using 
the nut grinder that comes with a kitchen food- 
chopper, and can add ground dates, ground pop- 
corn, or whatever he likes; but such preparations 
will soon grow rancid if not sealed air-tight. Nut 
butter is more digestible than kernels unless the 
latter are thoroughly chewed. 

Fruits. — All fruits are very deficient in protein 
and (except olives) in fat, but dried fruit is rich 
in carbohydrates. Fruit acid (that of prunes, dried 
apricots, and dehydrated cranberries, when fresh 
fruit cannot be carried) is a good corrective of a 
too fatty and starchy or sugary diet, and a pre- 
ventive of scurvy. Most fruits are laxative, and 
for that reason, if none other, a good proportion 
-of dried fruit should be Included In the ration, no 
matter how light one travels; otherwise one is 
likely to suffer from constipation when he changes 
" from town grub to trail grub." 

Among canned fruits, those that go farthest are 
pineapples and blackberries. 

Excellent jelly can be made in camp from dried 
apples (see recipe in Chapter XXII). 

There is much nourishment in dates, figs (those 
dried round are better than layer figs) and raisinsc 


Pitted dates are best for light outfits. And do not 
despise the humble prune ; buy the best grade in the 
market (unknown to landladies) and soak overnight 
before stewing; it will be a revelation. Take a va- 
riety of dried fruits, and mix them in different com- 
binations, sweet and tart, so as not to have the same 
sauce twice in succession; then you w^ill learn that 
dried fruits are by no means a poor substitute for 
fresh or canned ones. 

In hot weather I carry a few lemons whenever 
practicable. Limes are more compact and better 
medicinally, but they do not keep well. Lime juice 
in bottles is excellent, if you can carry it. 

Citric acid crystals may be used in lieu of lemons 
when going light, but the flavor is not so good as 
that of lemonade powder that one can put up for 
himself. The process is described by A. W. Bar- 
nard: ''Squeeze out the lemons and sift into the 
clear juice four to six spoonfuls of sugar to a lemon; 
let stand a few days if the weather is dry, or a 
week if wet, till it is dried up, then pulverize and 
put up into capsules." Gelatin capsules of any size, 
from i-oz. down, can be procured at a drugstore. 
They are convenient to carry small quantities of 
spices, flavorings, medicines, etc., on a hike. 

Vinegar and pickles are suitable only for fixed 
camps or easy cruises. 

Fritures. — Lard is less wholesome than olive 
oil, or *' Crisco," or the other preparations of vege- 
table fat. Crisco can be heated to a higher temper- 
ature than lard without burning, thus ensuring the 
"surprise" (see Chapter XVI), which prevents 
getting a fried article sodden with grease ; it does 
as wxU as lard for shortening; and it can be used 
repeatedly without transmitting the flavor of one 
dish to the next one. Olive oil is superior as a 
friture, especially for fish, but expensive. 

Beverages. — ^The best coffee can only be made 
from freshly roasted berries. Have it roasted and 
ground the day before you start, and put up in 


small air-tight canisters. It loses strength rapidly 
after a tin has been opened. If jou are a con- 
noisseur you will never be tempted more than once 
by any condensed coffee or substitute. 

Tea is a better pick-me-up than coffee or liquor. 
Even if you don't use it at home, take along on 
your camping trip enough for midday meals. Tea 
tabloids are not bad, but I advise using the real 
thing. On a hike, with no tea-ball, I tie up enough 
for each pint in a bit of washed cheesecloth, loosely, 
leaving enough string attached whereby to whisk 
it out after exactly four minutes' steeping. 

However it may be with you at home, leading 
a sedentary life, you probably will find that tea 
and coffee do you a world of good when working 
heartily out-of-doors. 

There are exceptions, to be sure ; but old cam- 
paigners generally will agree with Dr. Hutchinson 
when, having discussed the necessary solids for a 
soldier's ration, he says this: 

"But is even this dietetic trinity of bread, beef and su- 
^•^ar, with greens and dessert on the side, sufficient? The 
results of a hundred campaigns have shown that it is not. 
Man is not merely a stomach and muscles — he is also a 
bundle of nerves; and they require their share of pabulum. 
In the early days ♦^he nerve-steadier in the soldier's diet 
used to be supplied in the form of grog, beer, wine, whisky; 
^nd up to about one hundred years ago alcohol in some 
form was considered to be an absolutely indispensable part 
of the army ration. 

" Gradually, however, and by bitter experience, it was 
realized that alcohol's way of steadying and supporting 
the nerves was to narcotize them, which practically means 
poison them; that it gave no nourishment to the body 
and, instead of improving the digestion and utilization of 
food, really hindered and interfered with them. Man 
must have something to drink as well as to eat; but what 
^an be found as a substitute? 

" About two centuries ago two new planets swam into 
our human ken above the dietetic horizon — tea and cof- 
fee. They were looked on with great suspicion at first, 
partly because they were attractive and partly because 
ihey were new. They were denounced by the Puritan be- 


cause they were pleasant, and by the doctor because they 
were not in the pharmacopoeia; but, in spite of bitter oppo- 
sition, they won their way. 

" It is doubtful whether any addition to the comfort of 
civilized man within the last two hundred years in the 
realm of dietetics can be mentioned that equals them. 
Certainly, if we take into consideration the third new ar- 
ticle of food, which came in and still goes down with them 
— sugar — it would be impossible to match them with any- 
thing of equal value," 

Cocoa is not only a drink but a food. It is 
best for the evening meal, because it makes one 
sleepy, whereas tea and coffee have the opposite 

Get the soluble kind, if j^ou want it quickly pre- 

Condiments. — Do not leave out a small assort- 
ment of condiments wherewith to vary the taste 
of common articles and serve a new sauce or gravy 
or pudding now and then. 

Salt is best carried in a w^ooden box. The 
amount used in cooking and at table is small, but 
if pelts are to be preserved or game shipped out, 
considerably more will be needed. 

White pepper is better than black. Some Cay^ 
enne or Chili should also be taken. Red pepper if 
not only a good stomachic, but also is fme for a 
chill (made into a tea with hot water and sugar). 

Among condiments I class beef extract, bouillon 
cubes or capsules, and the like. They are of no 
use as food, except to stimulate a feeble stomach 
or furnish a spurt of energy, but invaluable for 
flavoring camp-made soups and stews when you 
are far away from beef. The powder called 
Oystero yields an oyster flavor. 

When one is not going into a game country, it 
IS worth while to carn^ Worcestershire sauce and 
pure tomato catchup, to relieve the monotony of 
cured and canned meats or of too much fish. 

Mustard is useful not only at table but for medi- 
cinal purposes ; cloves, not only for its more obvious 


purposes, but to stick in an onion for a stew, and 
perchance for a toothache. 

Celery and parsley can now be had in dehydrated 
form. Some sage may be needed for stuffing. 

If you aim at cake-making and puddings, ginger 
and cinnamon may be required. Curry powder is 
relished by many; its harshness may be tempered 
with sweet fruits or sugar. 

Finally, a half-pint of brandy is worth its weight, 
for brandy-sauce — but keep it where it can't be 
filched, or somebody will invent a bellyache instanter. 

On short tripSv salt and pepper will meet all 

Ration Lists. — A ration list showing how much 
food of each kind is required, per man and per 
week, cannot be figured out satisfactorily unless one 
knows where the party is going, at what season of 
the year, how the stuff is to be carried, whether 
there is to be good chance of game or fish, and some- 
thing about the men's personal tastes. Still, I may 
offer some suggestions. 

Our army garrison ration often is used as a 
guide. Introducing the permissible substitutions in 
ratios given below, it works out as follows: — - 



Meats, Etc.: 

Lbs. Oz. 
{^2 time) Fresh meats, @ 20 

oz. per day 4 6 

(^) Cured or canned, @ 12 oz. 2 10 

Lard, @ 0.64 oz 4^ 

Milk, evaporated, @ 0.5 oz,.. .. 3^2 

Butter, @ 0,5 oz 3 

7 lbs. ii]/2 oz. 
Bread, Etc.: 

Lbs. Oz. 

(^) Hard bread, @ 16 oz i 12 

(f^) Flour, meal, @ 18 oz.... 5 14^ 
Baking powder, @ i oz. per lb. 

flour 6 

[Yz] Rice, hominy, @ i.6 oz 5^^ 

— 8 lbs. 6 02, 

Prunes, dried apples or peaches, O, ^VJk ^^''*^' 

jam, (a)i.28oz. 9 ''VVV^ 



{]/2) Beans, @ 2.4 oz 

Potatoes, canned tomatoes, etc 
@ 20 oz 

Vinegar, @ 0.16 gill 4^^ 

i3>4 ftit 
Sugar, Etc.: 

Lbs. Oz. 

Sugar, @ 3.2 oz . . 1 6J/2 

Sirup, @ 0.32 gill 10 

— 2 lbs. 5^ oz 


Lbs. Oz. 

i%) CoflFee, @ 1.12 oz 5^ 

(i/J) Tea, @ 0.32 oz 2/4 

— 6 oz. 


Lbs. Oz. 

Salt, @ 0.64 oz 4V2 

Pepper, @ 0.04 oz 34 

Spices, @ 0.014 oz YiQ 

Flavoring extracts, @ 0.028 oz. . . % 

— 5 oz. 

One man one week 28 lbs. 15 oz. 

One man one day 4 lbs. 2 oz. 

This Is a very liberal ration, but would be so 
monotonous, if strictly adhered to, that much of 
it would be unused. Accordingly the soldier's 
mess is allowed to commute its surplus of staples 
for luxuries in which the ration is deficient. 

For some years it was my practice to weigh per- 
sonally, and note down at the time, the amount 
of provisions taken on my camping tours, and often 
I recorded the quantities left over at the end of 
the trip. I have also collected many ration lists 
compiled by practical woodsmen, and have spent 
considerable time in studying and comparing them. 
These varied remarkably, not so much in aggre- 
gate weights as in the proportions of this and that 


Still, a few general principles have been worked 

1. When going as light as practicable, and taking 
the most concentrated (water-free) foods that will 
digest properly and sustain a man at hard work 
in the open air, the ration should not be cut down 
below 2j4 pounds (a ration being one man's food 
for one day). This is the minimum for moun- 
taineering, arctic exploration, and wherever equip- 
ment must be " pared to the bone," This sort of 
provisioning will be considered in Volume II. 

2. People leading an easy life in summer camp 
do not require so much actual nutriment as those 
engaged in hard travel, big game hunting, and 
the like; but they should have plenty of fruits 
and vegetables, and these things are heavy and 

3. Men working hard in the open, and exposed 
to the vicissitudes of wilderness life, need a diet 
rich in protein, fats (especially in cold weather), 
and sweets. This may not agree with theories of 
dieticians, but it is the experience of millions of 
campaigners who know what their work demands. 
A low-proteid diet may be good for men leading 
soft lives, and for an occasional freak outdoorsman, 
but try it on an army in the field, or on a crew of 
lumberjacks, and you will face stark mutiny. 

As a basis upon which the supplies for a party 
may be calculated, I offer, in the following table, 
tw^o ration lists, called '* light " and " heavy," for 
one man, one week. The first figures out about 
4,900 calories, and the second about 5,300 calories, 
per man, per day. Either of these is sufficient for 
a man engaged in hard outdoor work; so the terms 
" light " and '^ heavy " do not refer to food values 
but to actual weights, the first being 3 pounds, and 
the second a bit over 5 pounds, per man, per day. 
The difference is due chiefly to canned goods and 
fresh vegetables. 

Observe that both of these lists include fresh 



meat. It Is assumed that the travelers will go 
either where they can supply this with game killed 
or where they can buy fresh meat as It Is needed. 
Otherwise, substitute two-thirds Its weight In cured 

For men not undergoing great strain, the ** light '* 
ration may be reduced, say to 2^ pounds a day- 



(Weights are net, not including tins, bags, wrappers.) 


Meats, Etc.: Lbs. Oz 

Fresh meat 3 

Bacon 3 

Canned meat, poultry, fish . . 4 

Cured fish 4 

Canned soups 

Dried soups 2 

Fresh eggs 

Dried eggs 4 

Butter 8 

Cheese 4 

Crisco 4 

Evaporated milk 6 


Lbs. Oz. 

10 (i can) 
8 (i doz.) 




7 4 

Bread, Etc.: Lbs. Oz, 

Biscuits (crackers) or 

fresh bread i 

Wheat flour 4 

Corn meal i 

Baking powder 

Macaroni, etc 

Rice , 

Other cereal 

9 6 
Lbs. Oz. 


Fresh potatoes 

Fresh onions 

Canned tomatoes 

Canned corn 

Dried beans 

Dehydrated vegetables . . 

7 6 
Lbs. Oz. 

7 6 
Lbs. Oz. 

. , (i can) 
10 iYz can) 



Fruits, Acids, Nuts: 

Fresh lemons 

Lemonade capsules 

Canned fruits 

Dried apples, apricots, 
prunes, cranberries .... 

Raisins, dates, figs 

Pickles (sour) 

Shelled nuts, or nut butter 


Lbs. Oz. 


Lbs. Oz. 




Siveets: Lbs. Oz. 

Sugar (granulated) 14 

Maple sugar (soft) 8 

Chocolate (medium sweet) . . 12 
Jam, jelly, marmalade 


Coffee .. 
Tea .... 

2 2 
Lbs. Oz. 



White pepper . . 
Red pepper .... 
Mustard (mixed] 
Celery, parsley 


Bouillon cubes 

Nutmeg, cloves, cinnamon, 

ginger, curry powder. . . 

Worcestershire sauce 

Tomato catsup 

Lbs. Oz. 






One man one week 21 

One man one day 3 



(2 cans) 





2 lO 

Lbs. Oz, 







If butter 16 not carried, its weight in bacon should 
be added to the list; similarly other substitutions 
can be made to suit taste and circumstances. 

The second list provides enough eggs and milk 

* Not allowing for preparing skins and salting horses. 


to allow their use liberally in cooking. Its ration 
is of about the same weight as that of the U. S. 

Packing Food. — Meat of any kind will quickly 
mould or spoil if packed in tins from w^hich air 
is not exhausted. Wrap your bacon, pork, etc., 
in parchment paper, which is grease-proof (you 
can buy it from a mail-order house — for small 
quantities get parchment paper ice blankets and 
cut to suit), then enclose the meat in loose cheese- 
cloth bags that can be hung up in camp, secure from 

Flour should not be carried in the original sacks: 
they wet through or absorb moisture from the air, 
snag easily, and burst under the strain of a lash- 
rope. Pack your flower, cereals, vegetables, dried 
fruits, etc., in the round-bottomed paraflSned bags 
sold by outfitters (various sizes, from 10 lbs. down), 
which are damp-proof and have the further merit 
of standing up on their bottoms instead of always 
falling over. Put a tag on each bag and label 
it in ink. These small bags may then be stowed 
in 9-inch waterproof canvas provision bags (see 
outfitter's catalogues), but in that case the thing 
you want is generally at the bottom. A much 
handier pack for horse or canoe is the side-opening 
one shown in Fig. 10 1. 

Butter, lard, ground coffee, tea, sugar, jam, 
m.atches, go in pn-up tin cans, sold by outfitters 
(small quantities in mailing tubes), or in common 
capped tins with tops secured by surgeon's plaster. 
Get pepper and spices in shaker-top cans, or, if you 
carry common shakers, cover tops with cloth and 
snap stout rubber bands around them. 

Salt, as it draws moisture, is best carried in a 
wooden box or in mailing tubes. 

Often it is well to carry separately enough food 
to last the party between the jumping-off place and 
the main camp site, as it saves the bother of break- 
ing bulk en route. 

2o6 CA:\IPIiNG and WOODCRAFl' 

When transportation is easy it pays to pack tlie 
bread, bags of flour, etc., in a tin wash-boiler of 
two, which are wrapped in burlaps and crated. 
These make capital grub boxes in camp, securing 
their contents from wet, insects and rodents. Ants 
in summer and mice at all times are downright 
pests of the woods, to say nothing of the wily coon, 
the predatory mink, the inquisitive skunk, and the 
fretful porcupine. The boilers are useful, too, on 
many occasions, to catch rain-water, boil clothes, 
waterproof and dye tents, and so forth. After all 
these things have been done in them they are prop- 
erly seasoned for cooking a burgoo. 

Camp chests are very convenient when it is 
practicable to carry them. In fixed camp an old 
trunk will do ; but if you are traveling from place 
to place, the boxes should be small, weighing not 
over fifty or sixty pounds each when packed, so that 
one man can easily handle them unassisted. If they 
are specially made, Cottonwood is the best material 
(if thoroughly seasoned boards can be had — other- 
wise it warps abominably). It is the strongest and 
toughest wood for its weight that we have, and 
will not splinter. For the ends and lids of small 
chests, ^-inch stuf¥ is thick enough, and ^-inch 
for the sides, bottoms and trays. The bottom 
should have a pair of ^/^-inch cleats for risers and 
the top a similar pair to keep it from \A'arping, un- 
less the chests are to go on pack animals. Strap- 
hinges and hasp, a brass padlock and broad leather 
end-straps (not drop-handles) should be provided, 
and the chest painted. 

The best size is 24x18x9 inches, this being 
convenient for canoes and pack-saddles. A pine 
grocery box of this size, with ^-inch ends and 
^-inch sides, top, and bottom, weighs only lO 
pounds, and will answer the purpose very well. 
Screw a wooden handle on each end, say 5x2 
inches, with a hand-hold gouged out of the under 


Chests intended to be used as hanging cupboard? 
in camp should have shelf boards packed in them, 
and a bread board for rolling out biscuit dough and 
pastry. One box should be selected with a view 
to using it as a camp refrigerator or spring box 
(see Chapter XII). For a trip by wagon a regu- 
lar " chuck box " may be built, with a drop front 
for serving table (held by light chains when open). 
This box is carried upright at the rear end of the 
wagon a la cow outfit. 

When cruising where there are no portages it 
saves lots of time and bother if you build before- 
hand a light mess chest partitioned to hold utensils 
and all the food needed for, say, a week. This 
may be fitted with detachable legs, and the lid 
so fitted that it is supported level when opened, 
forming a table. 

A Last Look Around. — Check off every article 
in the outfit as it is stowed, and keep the inventory 
for future reference Then note what is left over 
at the end of the trip. This will help in outfitting 
for the next season. 

There are several things to be looked after in 
good season before starting on a camping trip. If 
your shoes are new, oil them and break them in. 
If your rifle is new, do not dream of carrying it 
into the wilderness until you have " sighted it up," 
testing the elevations at various ranges, and mak- 
ing sure that the sights are accurately aligned. If 
your fishing tackle is old, overhaul and test it 
thoroughly. If you have a hollow tooth, get it 
filled. Pare your nails closely, or they will soon 
be badly broken. Get your hair cropped short. 
See that you have a good supply of small change 
^vhen you start. Don't carry off j^our bunch of 
keys. Be on hand early at the station and see to 
it personally that your humble but precious duffel 
all gets aboard. 

And now, bon voyage! 


As a rule, good camp sites are not found along 
the beaten road. Of course, water is the prime 
essential, and in a country where water is scarce, 
you will stop at an old camping ground ; other- 
wise it is best to avoid such a place: for one thing, 
you don't want to be bothered with interlopers, 
and for another, the previous occupants will have 
stripped the neighborhood of good kindling and 
downwood, and may have left a legacy of rub- 
bish and fleas. 

A pleasant stopping-place is seldom far to seek 
in a hilly country that is well wooded. There are 
exceptions, as in the Ozarks, where the rock is a 
porous limestone, the drainage mostly is under- 
ground, and there are no brooks, nor are springs 
as common as one would expect, though when you 
do strike one it is a big one. Here a traveler must 
depend for water chiefly on the creeks and rivers, 
which may be miles apart. 

In a level region, whether it be open plain or 
timbered bottom land, good water and a high and 
dry site may be hard to find. 

In any case, when men are journeying through 
a wild country that is strange to them, they should 
begin at least two hours before sunset to keep a 
bright lookout for a good place on which to spend 
the night, and when such is found they had better 
accept it at once than run the risk of *' murdering 
a night ' farther on, wherever the powers of dark- 
ness may force them to stop. 

Camp Sites. — The essentials of a good camp 
?ite are these: 



1. Pure water. 

2. Wood that burns well. In cold weather there 
should be either an abundance of sound downwood 
or some standing hardwood trees that are not too 
big for easy felling. 

3. An open spot, level enough for the tent and 
campfire, but elevated above its surroundings so 
as to have good natural drainage. It must be well 
above any chance overflow from the sudden rise 
of a neighboring stream. Observe the previous 
flood marks. 

4. Grass or browse for the horses (if there are 
any) and bedding for the men. 

5. Straight poles for the tent, or trees convenient 
for attaching the ridge rope. 

6. Security against the spread of fire. 

7. Exposure to direct sunlight during a part of 
the day, especially during the early morning hours. 

8. In summer, exposure to whatever breezes may 
blow^; in cold weather, protection against the pre- 
vailing wind. 

9. Privacy. 

Water, wood, and good drainage may be all you 
need for a " one-night stand," but the other points, 
too, should be considered when selecting the site for 
a fixed camp. 

Water. — Be particularly careful about thd 
purity of your water supply. You come, let us say, 
to a mountain brook, that issues from thick forest. 
It ripples over clean rocks, it bubbles with air, it is 
clear as crystal, and cool to your thirsty throat. 
*' Surely that is good water." But do you know 
where it comes from? Every mountain cabin is 
built close to a spring-branch. Somewhere up that 
brook there may be a clearing; in that clearing, a 
house ; in that house, a case of dysentery or typhoid 
fever. I have known several cases of infection fron> 
just such a source. It is not true that running wate/ 
purifies itself. 

When one must use well-water let him note the 


surrounding drainage. If the well is near a stable 
or outhouse, or if dishwater is thrown near it, let 
it alone. A well in sandy soil is more or less fil- 
tered by nature, but rocky or clayey earth may con- 
duct disease germs a considerable distance under- 
ground. Never drink from the well of an aban- 
doned farm: there is no telling what may have 
fallen into it. 

A spring issuing from the living rock is worthy 
of confidence. Even if it be but a trickle you can 
scoop out a basin to receive it that soon will clear 

Sometimes a subaqueous spring may be found near 
the margin of a lake or river by paddling close in- 
shore and trailing your hand in the water. When 
a cold spot is noted, go ashore and dig a few feet 
back from the water's edge. I have found such 
spring exits in the Mississippi some distance from 
the bank, and, by weighting a canteen, vying a string 
to it and another to the stopper, have brought up 
cool water from the river bed. 

Disease germs are of animal, not vegetable, origin. 
Still waters are not necessarily unwholesome, even 
though there be rotting vegetation in them: the 
water of cedar and cypress swamps is good to drink, 
'.vherever there is a deep pool of it, unless polluted 
from some outside source. Lake water is safe if no 
settlements are on its border; but even so large a 
body as Lake Champlain has been condemned by 
state boards of health because of the sewage that 
runs into it. 

When a stream is in flood it is likely to be con- 
taminated by decayed animal matter. 

Alkaline Water. — When traveling in an alkali 
:ountry, carry some vinegar or limes or lemons, or 
(better) a glass-stoppered bottle of hydrochloric 
icid. One teaspoonful of hydrochloric (muriatic) 
neutralizes about a gallon of water, and if there 
should be a little excess it will do no harm, but 
rather assist digestion. In default of acid, you may 


add a little Jamaica ginger and sugar to the water, 
making a weak ginger tea. 

Muddy Water. — I used to clarify Mississippi 
water by stirring cornmeal in it and letting it settle, 
or by stirring a lump of alum in it until the mud 
began to precipitate, and then decanting the clear 
water. Lacking these, one can take a good hand- 
ful of grass, tie it roughly in the form of a cone six 
or eight inches high, invert it, pour water slowly into 
the grass, and a runnel of comparatively clear water 
will trickle down through the small end. 

The following simple method of purifying muddy 
water is recommended by H. G. Kegley: 

" Dip up what is needed, place it in such vessels as are 
available, and treat it to condensed milk, in the proportion 
of two tablespoonfuls of milk to five gallons of water. The 
sediment settles in a very short time. Next morning, if you 
desire to carry some of the water with you through the day, 
pour it from the settlings, and then boil the water and skim 
it. In that way the cream and any possibility of sourness 
will be removed. Water thus clarified remains palatable 
so long as it lasts." 

Stagnant Water. — A traveler may be reduced to 
the extremity of using stagnant or even putrid water ; 
but this should never be done without first boiling 
it. Some charred wood from the camp fire should 
be boiled with the water; then skim off the scum, 
strain, and set the water aside to cool. Boiling 
sterilizes, and charcoal deodorizes. 

I quote the following incident from Johnson's 
Getting Gold. — 

" I once rede forty-five miles with nearly beaten horses 
to a native well, or rock hole, to find water, the next stage 
being nearly fifty miles further. The well was found, but 
the water in it was very bad ; for in it was the body of a 
dead kangaroo, which had apparently been there for weeks. 
The wretched horses, half frantic with thirst, did manage 
to drink a few mouthfuls, but we could not. I filled our 
largest billycan, holding about a gallon, slung it over the 
fire and added, as the wood burnt down, charcoal, till th« 
top Avas covered to a depth of two inches. With the char- 
coal there was, of coursCa a little ash containing bi-car- 


bonate of potassium. The effect was marvellous. So soon 
as the horrible soup came to the boil, the impurities coag' 
ulated, and after keeping it at boiling temperature for 
about half an hour, it was removed from the fire, the 
cinders skimmed out, and the water allowed to settle, which 
it did very quickly. It was then decanted off into an 
ordinary prospector's pan, and some used to make tea (the 
flavor of which can be better imagined than described) ; 
the remainder was allowed to stand all night, a few pieces 
of charcoal being added. In the morning it was bright, 
clear, and absolutely sweet." 

Filters are not to be depended upon to purify 
water. At best they only clarify ; they do not steril- 
ize it. A filter, to be of any use, must be cleaned 
out every da}^ or two, and the sand forming the up- 
per layer must be thoroughly washed or replaced; 
otherwise the filter itself becomes a breeding-place 
for germs. 

To Cool Water, — Travelers in arid regions carry 
water bags of heavy canvas or linen duck. These, 
when filled, constantly ** sweat " or exude enough 
moisture to cool the contents of the bag by evapora- 
tion. Wet canteens do the same. A covered pail 
or other vessel can be used: wrap cloths around it, 
keep them wet, and hang in a current of air. 

Fuel. — In summer camping little firewood is 
used, but in cold weather an abundance is required. 
Some kinds of wood make fine fires, others are poor 
fuel or worthless: they are classified in the next 
chapter. In any case there should be plenty of 
sound dead wood to cook with. 

When traveling with a team where fuel is scarce, 
make a practice of tossing into the wagon any good 
chunks that you may find along the road. 

Tent Ground. — Avoid low ground. Seek an 
open spot that is level enough for the purpose, but 
one that has good natural drainage. Wherever you 
may be, pitch your tent on a rise or slight slope in- 
stead of in a depression where water will gather 
if it rains. Don't trust a fair sky. 

If you camp on the bank of a stream, be sure to 


get well above the flood-marks left by previous 
freshets or overflows. Observe the more or less 
continuous line of dead grass, leaves, twigs, mud, 
and other flotsam or hurrah's-nests left in bushes 
along the water-front. 

Precautions as to elevation and drainage are 
especially needful in those parts of our country that 
are subject to cloudbursts. I have seen a ravine that 
had been stone-dry for months fill fifteen feet deep, 
in a few minutes, with a torrent that swept trees and 
bowlders along with it; and it is quite common in 
many parts of the West for wide bottoms to be 
flooded in a night. When I was a boy in Iowa, a 
'* mover " camped for the night on an island in Coon 
River, near our place. He had a bag of gold coin, 
but was out of rations. A sudden flood left him 
marooned the next morning on a knoll scarce big 
enough for his team and wagon. He subsisted for 
a week, like his horses, on the inner bark of cotton- 
wood, and when a rescue party found him he was 
kicking his bag of gold over the few yards of dry 
ground that were left of his domain. 

Bottom lands, and deep woods where the sun 
rarely penetrates, should be avoided, when prac- 
ticable, for they are damp lairs at best, and in warm 
weather they are infested with mosquitoes. Keep 
away from thickets in summer : they are stifling and 
" buggy." 

A ravine or narrow valley between steep hills is a 
trap for fog, and the cold, heavy air from the head 
of the hollow pours down it at night, while an un- 
dertow of warmer air drawing upward now and 
then makes the smoke from one's camp-fire shift 
most annoyingly. Besides a ravine gets too little 

New clearings in the forest are unhealthy, for 
the sun gets in on plants that are intolerant of strong 
light, they rot, and poisonous gases arise from their 
decay, as well as from the recently disturbed soil. 


If one is obliged to camp in a malarial region he 
should not leave the camp-fire until the sun is up and 
the fog dispelled. 

Sandy beaches, and low, gravelly points, are likely 
to swarm in summer with midges. 

Sandy soil does not afford good holding-ground 
for the tent pegs; neither does a loamy or clayey 
soil after it gets soaked from rain. The best ground 
is gravelly earth: it holds well, and permits the 
rapid filtering through of surface water. A clay 
top-soil holds water and is soon trodden into sticky 
mud after a rain. 

Precautions Against Fire. — If the camp site 
is strewn with leaves, cut an evergreen branch, or, 
with some other makeshift broom or rake, clear all 
the ground of leaves, pile them in the bare spot, 
and burn rhem, lest a spark set the woods afire. In 
evergreen or cypress forests there is often a thick 
scurf on the ground (dead needles, etc.) that is 
very inflammable. Always scrape this away before 
building a fire. In a dry forest carpet, or in a 
punky log, fire may smoulder unnoticed for several 
days; then, when a breeze fans it into flame, it may 
start a conflagration. One cant be too careful 
about fire in the woods. Never leave a camp fire 
or a cooking fire to burn itself out. Drench it with 
water, or smother it absolutely by stamping earth 
upon it. 

Neighborhood of Trees. — It is a common 
blunder to pitch the tent directly under the " natural 
shelter " of a big tree. This is pleasant enough at 
midday, but makes the tent catch drip from dew and 
keeps it from drying after a rain ; besides, it may 
be positively dangerous. One of the first things 
to do in choosing the tent site is to see that it is not 
within reach of falling limbs. A tree branch falling 
forty or fifty feet, and striking a tent at night, is 
something to be remembered — If you survive. 
Shun the neighborhood of tall trees that are shallow- 
moored, and of those with brittle limbs (the aspens, 


poplars, Cottonwood, catalpa, butternut, yellow lo- 
cust, silver maple), and anj^ with unsound branches. 

Dead trees are always unsafe. Every woodsmai? 
has often known them to come thundering down 
without the least warning when there was not sq 
much as a zephyr astir. A tree that leans toward 
camp from a steep hillside hard by is a menace, and 
so is any near-by tree with a hollow butt. 

Trees and Lightning. — I have never seen, noi 
heard of, a beech tree that had been struck by light 
ning, although beeches are plentiful on many battle- 
scarred mountains where stricken trees of other 
species can be noted by the score. Miss Keeler says 
on this point: " There was so firm a belief among 
the Indians that a beech tree was proof against 
lightning that on the approach of a thunder-storm 
they took refuge under its branches with full assur- 
ance of safety. . . . This popular belief has recently 
had scientific verification. . . . The general con- 
clusion from a series of experiments is that trees 
* poor in fat ' like the oak, willow, poplar, maple, 
elm and ash, oppose much less resistance to the elec- 
tric current than trees ' rich in fat ' like the beech, 
chestnut, linden and birch." 

In this connection I may note that there is no 
truth in the old adage that " lightning does not 
strike twice in the same place." At Takoma Park, 
a suburb of Washington, on July 19, 19 15, a bolt of 
lightning struck an oak tree standing in the garden 
before the administration building of the Seventh - 
Day Adventists. After the storm had passed, sev- 
eral people w^ent out from the building to view the 
damage done to the tree. Three of them lingered. 
A second bolt, from a clear sky, struck the same 
tree, killed two of the people under it, and knocked 
the other unconscious. 

Electricity follows not only the trunk of a tree but 
also the drip that falls from it in a rain. 

Shade. — In summer it is well to camp where 
one's tent will be shaded from the afternoon sun. 


as otherwise it will get very hot, but morning sun 
should strike the tent fairly, to dry it, lest the can- 
vas mildew and the interior get damp and musty. 
The wetter the climate, and the thicker the sur- 
rounding forest, the greater need of such exposure. 
Mildew attacks leather first, then woolens, and cot- 
tons last of all. 

Exposure. — As a general rule, an easterly or 
southeasterly frontage is best, not only to admit early 
sunlight and rouse you betimes, but also because, in 
most regions, it is the quarter least given to high 
winds and driving rains. Sudden and violent storms 
usually come up out of the southwest. This is true 
nearly everywhere: hence the sailor calls his tarp 
hat a " sou-wester." 

Other considerations may govern the case. In 
not weather we want exposure to whatever cool 
breezes may blow, and they are governed by local 
features. Late in the season we will take advantage 
of whatever natural windbreak we can find, such as 
the edge of a forest, the lee of a cliff, of a large rock, 
or of an evergreen thicket. This may make a dif- 
ference of 10° 0/ 15° in temperature. A rock ab- 
sorbs the sun's heat slowly all day and parts with it 
slowly at night. 

A grassy glade or meadow is colder than bare 
earth, sand, or rock. The air on a knoll is con- 
siderably warmer than that of flat land only a few 
feet below it. 

Privacy. — A camp should not be exposed to view 
from a public road nor be in the track of picnickers, 
idle countrymen, vagabonds, or other unwelcome 
guests. One can save much annoyance by a little 
forethought in this matter. 

Good Camp Sites. — Often in traveling a party 
must put up for the night on unfavorable ground; 
but granting that there is much choice in the 
matter, then select, in summer, an open knoll, a low 
ridge, or, better, still, a bold, rocky point jutting out 
into a rive»" or lake. A low promontory catches the 


breezes from both sides, which disperse fog and 
insects, and it is soon dried whenever the sun shines. 

In cold weather seek an open, park-like spot in 
the forest, where surrounding trees will break the 
wind; or a "bench" (natural terrace backed by a 
cliff) on the leeward side of a hill. In the latter 
case, build your fire against the cliff, and shield the 
tent with a wind-break. The rock will reflect heat 
upon the tent, and will serve as a smoke-conductor 
as well. 

On a hillside that is mostly bare, if there be a 
thicket or a cluster of evergreen trees, get on the 
downhill side of it. The stream of cold air from 
above will jump this obstacle and will leave an 
eddy of comparatively warm, still air immediately 
below it. 

The best site for a fixed camp is near a river or 
lake, or on a bold, wooded islet, with a bathing 
beach, boating and fishing waters. A picturesque 
outlook is desirable, of course, but not if it makes 
the camp too prominent a landmark and so robs it 
of the privacy that refined people appreciate in camp 
as anywhere else. 

System in Camping. — The celerity with which 
a camp is made depends upon the training and wil- 
lingness of the men, and the system by which their 
duties are parceled. Let us suppose that there are 
four in the party, besides the teamster or packer. 
Then let No. i, who is cook, get out the provisions 
and utensils, rig up the fireplace, build ?. fire, and 
prepare the food for cooking, while No. 2 is rustling 
wood and water. Meantime Nos. 3 and 4 clear 
the ground and smooth it off, cut tent pegs and poles, 
unpack the tent, and summon all hands for a minute, 
if they are needed, to assist in raising the tent and 
pegging it " square." Then the cook goes on with 
his proper duties, the axeman cuts and beds a chop- 
ping-block and gets in night-wood, and the canvas- 
men turn bed-makers. Thus, by the time supper is 
ready, which will be within an hour, or less, the 


camp will be properly made, and every one's vv^ork 
is done save the unfortunate scullion's. 

When camping with a pack-train, pile the packs 
neatly together and cover them with canvas, and sim- 
ilarly pile and protect the saddles, making especially 
sure that the lash ropes cannot get wet, and that 
nothing will be buried out of sight, off somewhere 
by itself, if snow falls during the night. Soldierly 
system in all such matters pays a big dividend in 
time and good temper. 

Even when stopping overnight, have a place for 
everything and let everything be in its place. 
Novices or shiftless folk strew things about :.nd can't 
find them when needed. That is one reason why it 
takes them twice as long as it should to make or 
break camp, and it is why they are forever losing 
this and that, or leaving them behind and forget- 
ting them till they reach the next stopping place. 

If obliged to pitch the tent where there is not 
good natural drainage, trench it, if the weather be 
at all dubious. It is miserable business to crawl 
out into a driving storm at night and dig a ditch by 
lantern-light — worse still to awake to a realiza- 
tion that trenching is too late to save your soaking 
possessions. " Make yourself ready in your cabin 
for the mischance of the hour, if so it hap." 

Dining Place. — It is wearisome to eat from the 
ground; and as Thoreau says, " None is so poor that 
he need sit on a pumpkin — that is shiftlessness.'^ 
If stopping more than a day in one place, set up a 
rustic table and benches, away from the tent and 
near the cooking fire. Drive four stakes into the 
ground for legs, nail cleats across the ends, and 
cover the top with boards or straight sticks. If you 
have no nails, use forked stakes. 

By the way, nearly every made-up picture ot a 
camp shows crotches cut like Fig. 109. Why, 
good artists — why ? You may hunt half a day in 
the woods to find such a natural crotch, and, if you 
should find it, the thing would be good-for-nothing 



as a stake, because you couldn't drive It without 
splitting it. A fork like Fig. no can be found 
anj'where; cut it as shown by the dotted lines, and 

Fig. 109 — 

Rare Natural 

Fig. no — 


To Make a ^"O^ 
Crutch '"C^ 4^ 

it will drive all right. If somebody is injured and 
needs a crutch, pick out a sapling with limbs grov/- 
ing opposite, as in Fig. in, cut out the central 
stem, trim, and shave down. 

A comfortable height for the table is 30 inches, 
for the benches 18 inches. The latter are made in 
the same way as the table. Three widths of 10- 
inch boards make a good table top, and one suffices 
for each bench. 

If you have a spare tent fly or tarpaulin, rig it 
over the dining table as a canopy. If no trees 
stand convenient for stretching it, set up two forked 
posts, lay a ridge pole on them, and guy out the 
sides to similar frames or to whatever may grow 
handy. To set a long stake, sharpen the butt end, 
hold the pole vertically, and make a hole in the 
ground by working the stick up and down as a 
quarryman does a long drill. 

A table, bench, or shelf, can easily be set up 
wherever two trees grow close enough together. 
Nail a cross-piece from one to the other, and a 
similar one at same level on the other side, then 
cover with straight sticks or pieces of board. 

Commissariat. — If food is carried in side-open- 
ing bags, suspend them from a horizontal pole run 
from tree to tree or from forked stakes. A ciip- 


board made from packing boxes can be hung up n 
the same way, to keep vermin out. If ants are 
troublesome, the edibles can be hung up bj^ wires, 
in a place where they will be sheltered from sun and 

In a stationary camp there should be a separate 
commissary tent, preferably of the baker style, as 
its door makes a good awning to work under in wet 
weather. Do not set boxes or bags of provisions 
on the ground, but on sticks, to keep dampness 
away from them. 

Racks or hangers for utensils, dish towels, etc., 
are improvised in many ways: a bush trimmed with 
stubs left on, and driven in the ground where it 
is wanted, inverted crotches nailed to a tree, and 
so on. Pegs of hard wood whittled to a blunt 
point can be driven into the trunk of a softwood 
tree by first making a vertical axe gash at the spot 
where the peg is to go. 

Cold Storage. — Butter and milk should noi be 
stored near anything that has a pronounced odor, 
for they would be tainted. As soon as the camp 
ground is reached the butter tin or jar should be 
placed in a net or bag and sunk in the spring or 
cold brook, the string being tied to the bank so that 
a freshet may not carry the food away or bury it 
out of sight. Later, if you stay in that place, a 
little rock-lined well can be dug near the spring, 
and covered securely so that 'coons and porcupines 
cannot plunder it. 

Meat and fish may be kept fresh until consumed 
by digging a hole and putting a packing box in it, 
surrounding the sides and bottom of the box with 
six inches or more of gravel, and covering top of 
box with burlap or something similar. Keep the 
gravel and the burlap wet, and cover all with wet 
evergreen boughs. 

If you have ice, a refrigerator can be made like 
the fireless cooker described in Chapter IV; or bore 
a few holes for drainage in the bottom of a box 



or barrel, sink it in the ground to its top, and cover 
with burlap or a blanket. 

At a cabin in the Smokies, where I lived alone 
for three years, I had a spring box like the one 
shown in Fig. ii2, which kept things cool and safe 
in the warmest weather, yet was easy for me to get 

Fig. 112 — Spring Box 

into. A short iron pipe at A entered the spring; 
the box inclined slightly toward the outlet B; pails 
and jars sat on flat rocks inside; the top was fas- 
tened by the round stick C passing through auger 
holes in the upright cleats. 

Caches for provisions and other articles will be 
described in Volume II. 

Tent Furnishings. — If staying more than a 
night in one place, fit up the tent with hangers from 
which spare clothing, knapsacks and pouches, wall 
pockets, lantern, guns, and other loose articles may 
be suspended where they are kept dry, out of the 
way, and handy to get at. In a wall tent, plant a 
forked stake at each corner and lay a pole on them 
along each side, with nails in it. Guns are laid 
on shorter stakes underneath these. At the rear 
end you may set up a set of shelves for odds and 

If you have candles and no lantern, cut a stick 
long enough to hold the light as high as you want 
it, sharpen one end to shove in the ground, split the 
other end a little, put a loop of bark horizontally 
in the cleft, the candle in the loop, and draw tight 
against the stick. Half a potato, with a hole 
scooped in it, or a small can filled with earth, makes 
a portable candlestick. 


Fence. — Wild hogs are literally the hetes noires 
of southern campers. Your thin-flanked, long-- 
legged, sharp-nosed razorback, with tusks gleaming 
from his jaws — he or she of the third or further 
removed generation of feral lawlessness — is th^ 
most perverse, fearless, and maliciously destructive 
brute in America, wolverines or " Indian devils " 
not excepted. Shooting his tail off does not dis- 
courage him, rocks and clubs are his amusement, 
and no hint to leave that is weaker than a handful 
of red pepper baked inside a pone o' bread will drive 
him away. A hog-proof fence around camp, un- 
sightly though it be, is one's only safeguard in south- 
ern wildwoods. 

Wash-Stand. — A shelf between two trees, made 
as previously described, is best for this purpose. It 
should be so situated that wash-water will be thrown 
directly into a stream, or at least where it will 
quickly drain away from the camp, so as not to 
attract flies. 

If one's ablutions are performed in the stream 
itself, drive a stick in the ground and nail the lid 
of a tin box to the top of it for a soap-dish. 

Camp Sanitation. — Nothing is cleaner, sweet- 
er, wholesomer, than a wildvvood unspoiled by man ; 
and few spots are more disgusting than a " piggy ", 
camp, with slops thrown everywhere, empty cans 
and broken bottles littering the ground, and organic 
refuse left festering in the sun, breeding disease 
germs, to be spread abroad by the swarms of flies. I 
have seen one of Nature's gardens, an ideal health 
resort, changed in a few months by a logging crew 
into an abomination and a pest-hole where typhoid 
and dysentery wrought deadly vengeance. 

Destroy at once all refuse that would attract flies j 
or bury it where they cannot get at it. 

Fire is the absolute disinfectant. Burn all solid 
kitchen refuse as fast as it accumulates. When a 
can of food is emptied toss it on th'^ fire and burn 
it out, then drop it in a sink-hole, that you have 


dug for slops and unburnable trash, and cover it 
with earth or ashes so no mosquitoes can breed in 
it after a rainfall. 

The sink should be on the downhill side of camp, 
and where it cannot pollute the water supply. 
Sprinkle kerosene on it, or burn it out frequently 
with a brush fire. 

A latrine, as substitute for a closet, is one of the 
first things to be provided. A rude but sanitary 

Fig. 113 — Latrine 

one that can be made in a short time is shown in 
Fig. 113. The excavated earth is piled at the rear^ 
and a paddle is left in it to cover excreta every time 
the place is used. (Whoever wrote Deuteronomy 
was a good camper.) The log used as seat, and the 
back-rest, are removable, so that a fire can be built 
in the trench every now and then from dead brush. 
Ashes and charcoal are good disinfectants in them- 
selves. Dry earth does very well; but the trench 
should be burnt out after a rain. 

A muslin or brush screen six feet high may be 
set around the latrine on stakes. A bathing screen 
can be similarly arranged at the water's edge. 

Camp Conveniences. — A chopping-block is the 
first thing needed about a camp. The axe, when not 


in use, should alwa5'S be stuck in that particular 
block, where any one can find it when wanted, and 
where it will not injure men or dogs. 

Do not let the axe lie outdoors on a very cold 
night; the frost would make it brittle, so that the 
steel might shiver on the first knot you struck the 
next morning. 

Stretch a stout line between two trees where the 
sunlight will strike, and air your blankets on it 
every day or two when the weather is pleasant. 
Against a straight tree near the tent make a rack, 
somewhat like a billiard-cue rack, in which fishing 
rods can be stood, full rigged, without danger of 
being blown down. 

Of course, it takes time and brisk work to make 
everything snug and trim around camp ; but it pays, 
just the same, to spend a couple of days at the start 
in rigging up such conveniences as I have described, 
and getting in a good supply of wood and kindling. 
To rush right off hunting or fishing, and leave the 
camp in disorder, is to eat your dough before it i£ 


**I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a great 
fire."— ^//'j Well that Ends Well. 

Cold night weighs down the forest bough, 
Strange shapes go flitting through the gloom. 

But see — a spark, a flame, and now 
The wilderness is home! 

— Edivin L. Sabin. 

The forest floor is always littered with old leaves, 
dead sticks, and fallen trees. During a drought this 
rubbish is so tinder-dry that a spark falling in it 
may start a conflagration ; but through a great part 
of the year the leaves and sticks that lie flat on the 
ground are too moist, at least on their under side, to 
Ignite readih'". If we rake together a pile of leaves, 
cover It higgledy-piggledy with dead twigs and 
branches picked up at random, and set a match to It, 
the odds are that It will result In nothing but a quick 
blaze that soon dies down to a smudge. Yet that 
is the way most of us tried to make our first out- 
door fires. 

One glance at a camper's fire tells what kind of a 
woodsman he Is. It Is quite Impossible to prepare 
a good meal over a heap of smoking chunks, a fierce 
blaze, or a great bed of coals that will warp Iron 
and melt everything else. 

If one would have good meals cooked out of doors, 
and would save much time and vexation — In other 
words, If he wants to be comfortable In the woods, 
he must learn how to produce at will either ( i ) a 
quick, hot little fire that will boll water In a Jiffy, 



and will soon burn down to embers that are not too 
ardent for frying; or (2) a solid bed of long-lived 
coals that will keep up a steady, glowing, smokeless 
heat for baking, roasting, or slow boiling; or (3) a 
big log fire that will throw its heat forward on the 
ground, and into a tent or lean-to, and will last 
several hours w^ithout replenishing. 

Luncheon Fire. — For a noonday lunch, or any 
other quick meal, when you have only to boil coffee 
and fry something, a large fire is not wanted. Drive 
a forked stake in the ground, lay a green stick across 
it, slanting upward from the ground, and weight 
the lower end with a rock, so you can easily regulate 
the height of the pot. The slanting stick should 
be notched, or have the stub of a twig left at its 
upper end, to hold the pot bail in place, and should 
be set at such an angle that the pot swings about a 
foot clear of the ground. 

Then gather a small armful of sound, dry twigs 
from the size of a lead pencil to that of your finger. 
Take no twig that lies flat on the ground, for such 
are generally damp or rotten. Choose hardwood, 
if there is any, for it lasts well. 

Select three of your best sticks for kindling. 
Shave each of them almost through, for half its 
length, leaving lower end of shavings attached to 
the stick, one under the other. Stand these in a 
tripod, under the hanging pot, with their curls 
down. Around them build a small conical wig- 
wam of the other sticks, standing each on end and 
slanting to a common center. The whole affair is 
no bigger than your hat. Leave free air spaces be- 
tween the sticks. Fire requires air, and plenty of it, 
and it burns best when it has something to climb up 
on ; hence the wigwam construction. Now touch 
off the shaved sticks, and in a moment you will have 
a small blast furnace under the pot. This will get 
up steam in a hurry. Feed it with small sticks as 

Meantime get two bed-sticks, four or five inches 


thick, or a pair of flat rocks, to support the frying 
pan. The firewood will all drop to embers soon 
after the pot boils. Toss out the smoking butts, 
leaving onl\' clear, glowing coals. Put your bed- 
sticks on either side, parallel and level. Set the pan 
on them, and fry away. So, in twenty xTiinutes 
from the time you drove your stake, the meal will be 

A man acting w^ithout system or forethought, in 
even so simple a matter as this, can waste an hour 
in pottering over smoky mulch, or blistering him- 
self before a bonfire, and it will be an ill mess of 
half-burned stuff that he serves in the end. 
, Dinner Fire. — First get in plenty of wood and 
kindling. If you can find two large flat rocks, or 
several small ones of even height, use them as and- 
irons; other^^•ise lay down two short cuts off a 
five- or six-inch log, facing you and about three feet 
apart. On these rocks or billets lay two four-foot 
logs parallel, and several inches apart, as rests for 
your utensils. Arrange the kindling between and 
under them, with small sticks laid across the top 
of the logs, a couple of long ones lengthwise, then 
more short ones across, another pair lengthwise, and 
thicker short ones across. Then light it. Many 
prefer to light the kindling at once and feed the fire 
gradually; but I do as above, so as to have an even 
glow under several pots at once, and then the sticks 
will all burn down to coals together. 

This is the usual way to build a cooking fire when 
there is no time to do better. The objection is that 
the supporting logs must be close enough together 
to hold up the pots and pans, and, being round, this 
leaves too little space between them for the fire to 
heat their bottoms evenly; besides, a pot is liable to 
slip and topple over. A better way, if one has 
time, is to hew both the inside surfaces and the tops 
of the logs flat. Space these supports close enough 
together at one end for the narrowest pot and wide 
enough apart at the oth?r for the frying-Dan. 


If you carry fire-irons, as recommended in a pii» 
vious chapter, much bother is saved. Simply lay 
down two flat rocks or a pair of billets far enough 
apart for the purpose, place the flat irons on them, 
and space them to suit the utensils. 

If a camp grate is used, build a crisscross firo 
of short sticks under it. 

Split wood is better than round sticks for cooking; 
it catches easier and burns more evenly. 

Camp Crane. — Pots for hot water, stews, cof- 
fee, and so on, are more manageable when hung 
above the fire. The heat can easily be regulated, the 
pots hanging low at first to boil quickly, and then 
being elevated or shifted aside to simmer. 

Set up two forked stakes about five feet apart and 
four feet to the crotches. Across them lay a green 
stick (lug-pole) somewhat thicker than a broom- 
stick. Now cut three or four green crotches from 
branches, drive a nail in the small end of each, 
or cut a notch in it, invert the crotches, and hang 
them on the lug-pole to suspend kettles from. These 
pot-hooks are to be of different lengths so that the 
kettle can be adjusted to different heights above 
the fire, first for hard boiling, and then for simmer- 
ing. If kettles were hung from the lug-pole itself, 
this adjustment could not be made, and j'ou would 
have to dismount the whole business in order to 
get one kettle off. * 

* It is curious how many different names have been bC' 
atowed upon the hooks by which kettles are suspended over 
a fire. Our forefathers called them pot-hooks, trammels, hakes, 
hangers, pot-hangers, pot-claws, i)ot-crooks, gallows-crooks, pot- 
chips, pot-brakes, gibs or gib-crokes, rackan-crooks (a chain oi 
pierced bar on which to hang hooks was called a rackan or 
reckon), and I know not what else besides. Among Maine 
lumbermen, such an implement is called a lug-stick, a hook for 
lifting kettles is a hook-stick, and a stick sharpened and driven 
into the ground at an angle so as to bend over the fire, to 
susi)end a kettle from, is a wambeck or a spygelia — the Red 
Gods alone know why! The frame built over a cooking-fire is 
called by the Penobscots kdchi-plak-wagn, and the_ Micmacs call 
the lug-stick a chiplok-waiigan, which the white guides have par- 
tially anglicized into waugan-stick. It is well to know, and 
heresy to disbelieve, that, after boiling the kettle, it brings bad 
luck to leave the waugan or spygelia standing. 

_ If this catalogue does not suffice the amateur cook to express 
his ideas about such things, he may exercise his jaws with the 
Romany (gipsy) term for pot-hook, which is kkkauviscoe sasteK_ 


If forked stakes are not readily found in the 
neighborhood, drive straight ones, then split the 
tops, flatten the ends of the cross-pole and insert 
them in the clefts of the stakes. 

You do not want a big fire to cook over. Many 
and many a time I have watched old and experienced 
woodsmen spoil their grub, and their tempers, too, 
by trying to cook in front of a roaring winter camp- 
fire, and have marveled at their lack of common- 
sense. Off to one side of such a fire, lay your bed- 
logs, as above ; then shovel from the camp-fire enough 
hard coals to fill the space between the logs within 
three inches of the top. You now have a steady, 
even heat from end to end ; it can easily be regulated ; 
there is level support for every vessel; and you can 
wield a short-handled frying-pan over such an out- 
door range without scorching either the meat or 

Fire for Baking. — For baking in a reflector, or 
roasting a joint, a high fire is best, with a backing 
to throw the heat forward. Sticks three feet long 
can be leaned against a big log or a sheer-faced rock, 
and the kindling started under them. 

Often a good bed of coals is wanted. The camp- 
fire generally supplies these, but sometimes they are 
needed in a hurry, soon after camp is pitched. To 
get them, take sound hardwood, either green or dead, 
and split it into sticks of uniform thickness (say i)4- 
inch face). Lay down two bed-sticks, cross these 
near the ends with tvA^o others, and so on up until 
you have a pen a foot high. Start a fire in this 
pen. Then cover it with a layer of parallel sticks 
(aid an inch apart. Cross this with a similar layer 
at right angles, and so upward for another foot. 
The free draft will make a roaring fire, and all will 
burn down to coals together. 

The thick bark of hemlock, and of hardwoodi 
generally, will soon yield coals for ordinary cook- 

To keep coals a long time, cover them with ashes, 


or with bark which will soon burn to ashes. In 
wet weather a bed of coals can be shielded by slant- 
ing broad strips of green bark over it and over- 
lapping them at the edges. 

Fire in a Trench. — In time of drought when 
everything is tinder-dry, or in windy weather, es- 
pecially if the ground be strewn with dead leaves 
or pine needles, build your fire in a trench. This is 
the best way, too, if fuel is scarce and you must de- 
oend on brushwood, as a trench conserves heat. 

Dig the trench in line with the prevailing wind. 
The point is to get a good draught. Make the wind- 
ward end somewhat wider than the rest, and deeper, 
sloping the trench upward to the far end. Line 
the sides with flat rocks, if they are to be found, as 
they hold heat a long time and keep the sides from 
crumbling in. Lay other rocks, or a pair of green 
poles, along the edges to support vessels. A little 
chimney of flat stones or sod, at the leeward end, 
will make the fire draw well. If there is some 
sheet-iron to cover the trench a quite practical stove 
is made, but an open trench will do very well if 
properly managed. 

The Hunter's Fire. — Good for a shifting 
ramp in the fall of the year, because it affords first 
a quick cooking fire with supports for the utensils, 
and afterwards a fair camp-fire for the night when 
the weather is not severe. Cut two hardwood logs 
not less than a foot thick and about six feet long. 
Lay these side by side, about fifteen inches apart 
at one end and six or eight inches at the other. 
Across them lay short green sticks as supports, and 
on these build a crisscross pile of dry wood and set 
fire to it. The upper courses of wood will soon 
burn to coals which will drop between the logs and 
Bet them blazing on the inner sides. (If the bed 
logs were elevated to let draught under them they 
would blaze all around, and would not last long.) 

After supper, lay two green billets, about eight 
'Hches thick, across the bed logs, and aut nisht-wood 


on A, to be renewed as required. In the morning 
there will be fine coals with which to cook break- 

Winter Camp-Fire. — Let " Nessmuk " describe 
how hfe and a companion kept an open camp com- 
fortabJy warm through a week in winter, with no 
other cutting tools than their hunting hatchets: 

■' We first felled a thrifty butternut tree ten inches in 
dianneter, cut off three lengths of five feet each, and carried 
them to camp. These were the back-logs. Two stout 
staKes were driven at the back of the fire, and the logs, on 
top of each other, were laid firmly against the stakes. The 
latter were slanted a little back, and the largest log placed 
ai. bottom, the smallest on top, to prevent tipping forward. 
A couple of short, thick sticks were laid with the ends 
against the bottom log by way of fire-dogs; a fore-stick 
five feet long and five inches in diameter; a well built pyra- 
mid of bark, knots and small logs completed the camp-fire, 
which sent a pleasant glow of warmth and heat to the 
furthest corner of the shanty. For night-wood we cut a 
dozen birch and ash poles from four to six inches across, 
trimmed them to the tips, and dragged them to camp. 
Then we denuded a dry hemlock of its bark by aid of ten^ 
foot poles flattened at one end, and packed the bark to 
camp. We had a bright, cheery fire from the early evening 
until morning, and four tired hunters never slept more 

"We stayed in that camp a week; and, though the 
weather was rough and cold, the little pocket-axes kept us 
well in firewood. We selected butternut for back-logs, be- 
cause, when green, it burns very slowly and lasts a long 
time. And we dragged our smaller wood to camp in 
lengths of twenty to thirty feet, because it was easier to lay 
them on the fire and ' nigger ' them in two than to cut them 
shorter with light hatchets. With a heavj* axe we should 
have cut them to lengths of five or six feet." 

The first camp I ever made was built exactly after 
the " Nessmuk " pattern, shanty-tent, camp-fire with 
butternut back-logs, and all (see chapters III. and 
IV. of his Woodcraft). My only implement, be- 
sides knives, was a double-bitted hatchet just like 
his, of surgical instrument steel, weighing, with its 
twelve-inch handle, only eighteen ounces. I was 
alone. I stayed in that camp five weeks, in October 
and November; and I was snug and happy all the 


time. But then I was camping just for the fun oi 
It. It Is quite a different matter to come In at night- 
fall, dog-tired, and have to get In night-wood with 
a mere hatchet. Don't try that sort of camping 
without a full-size axe. 

If there is a big, flat-faced rock or ledge on the 
camp site, take advantage of it by building your fire 
against it, with the tent In front. Or build a wall 
of rocks for a fire-back, with stone " andirons." 
Wooden ones must be renewed every day or so. 
But if logs must be used, and you have an axe, cut 
the back-logs from a green tree at least a foot thick, 
choosing wood that Is slow to burn. Plaster mud 
in the crevices between the logs, around the bottom 
of stakes, and around the rear end of '' hand- 
junks " or billets used as andirons; otherwise the 
fire will soon attack these places. The fire-back 
reflects the heat forward Into the tent, conducts 
the smoke upward, and serves as a windbreak in 
front of camp; so the higher It is, within reason, the 

Novices generally erect the fire-back too far from 
the tent. Conditions vary, but ordinarily the face 
of the back-logs should not be more than five feet 
from the tent front; with a small fire, well tended, 
it need not be over four feet. 

The Indian's Fire. — Best where fuel Is scarce, 
or when one has only a small hatchet with which to 
cut night-wood. Fell and trim a lot of hardwood 
saplings. Lay three or four of them, on the ground, 
butts on top of each other, tips radiating from this 
center like the spokes of a wheel. On and around 
this center build a small, hot fire. Place butts of 
other saplings on this, radiating like the others. As 
the wood burns away, shove the sticks In toward the 
center, butts on top of each other, as before. This 
saves much chopping, and economizes fuel. Build 
a little v/indbreak behind you, and lie close to the 
fire. Doubtless you have heard the Indian's dictum 
(southern Indians express It just as the northern 


and western ones do): "White man heap fool; 
make um big fire — can't git near: Injun make um 
little fire — git close. Uh, good! " 

Kindling. — The best kindling is fat pine, or the 
bark of the paper birch. Fat pine is found in the 
stumps and butt cuts of pine trees, particularly those 
that died on the stump. The resin has collected 
there and dried. This wood is usually easy to split. 
Pine knots are the tough, heavy, resinous stubs of 
limbs that are found on dead pine trees. They, as 
well as fat pine, are almost imperishable, and those 
iticking out of old rotten logs are as good as any. 
In collecting pine knots go to fallen trees that have 
almost rotted away. Hit the knot a lick with the 
poll of the axe and generally it will yield ; if you 
must chop, cut deep to get it all and to save the axe 
edge. The knots of old dead balsams are similarly 
used. Usually a dead stump of pine, spruce, or baU 
sam, all punky on the outside, has a core very rich 
in resin that makes excellent kindling. 

Hemlock knots are worthless and hard as glass — 
keep your axe out of them. 

The thick bark of hemlock is good to make glow- 
ing coals in a hurry; so is that of hardwoods gen- 
erally- Good kindling, sure to be dry underneath 
the bark in all weathers, is procured by snapping 
off the small dead branches, or stubs of branches, 
that are left on the trunks of small or medium-sized 
trees, near the ground. Do not pick up twigs from 
the ground, but choose those, among the downwood, 
that are held up free from the ground. Where a 
tree is found that has been shivered by lightning, 
or one that has broken off without uprooting, good 
splinters of dry wood will be found. In every 
laurel thicket there is plenty of dead laurel, and, 
since it is of sprangling growth, most of the branches 
will be free from the ground and snap-dry. They 
ignite readily and give out intense heat. 

The bark of all species of birch, but of paper 
birch especially, is excellent for kindling and for 


torches. It Is full of resinous oil, blazes up at once, 
will burn in any wind, and wet sticks can be ignited 
with it. 

Tinder, and methods of getting fire without 
matches, will be considered in Volume II. 

Making Fire in the Wet. — It is a good test 
of one's resourcefulness to make a fire out-of-doors 
in rainy weather. The best way to go about it de- 
pends upon local conditions. If fat pine can be 
found the trick is easy: just split it up, and start 
your fire under a big fallen log. Dry fuel and a 
place to build the fire can often be found under big 
uptilted logs, shelving rocks, and similar natural 
siiclters, or in the core of an old stump. In default 
of these, look for a dead softwood tree that leans to 
the south. The wood and bark on the under side 
will be dry — chop some off, split it fine, and build 
your fire under the shelter of the trunk. 

Lighting a Match. — When there is nothing 
dry to strike it on, jerk the tip of the match for- 
ward against your teeth. 

To light a match in the wind, face the wind. 
Cup your hands, with their backs toward the wind, 
and hold the match with its head pointing toward 
the rear of the cup — i. e., toward the wind. Re- 
move the right hand just long enough to strike the 
match on something very close by; then instantly 
resume the former position. The flame will run 
up the match stick, instead of being blown away from 
it, and so will have something to feed on. 

Fire Regulations. — On state lands and on 
National forest reserves it is forbidden to use any 
but fallen timber for firewood. Different States 
have various other restrictions, some, I believe, not 
permitting campers to light a fire in the woods af 
all unless accompanied by a registered guide. 

In New York the regulations prescribe that 
" Fires will be permitted for the purpose of cooking, 
warmth, and insect smudges; but before such fires 
are kindled sufficient snace around the spot where 


the fire is to be lighted must be cleared from all 
combustible material; and before the place is aban- 
doned, fires so lighted must be thoroughly quenched." 

In Pennsylvania forest reserves no fire may be 
made except in a hole or pit one foot deep, the pit 
being encircled by the excavated earth. In some 
of California, no fire at all may be lighted without 
first procuring a permit from the authorities. 

Fire regulations are posted on all public lands, 
and if campers disregard them they are subject to 

These are wise and good laws. Every camper 
w^ho loves the forest, and who has any regard for 
public interests, will do his part by obeying them to 
the letter. However, if he occupies private property 
where he may use his own judgment, or if he travels 
in a wilderness far from civilization, where there 
are no regulations, it will be useful ^or him to know 
something about the fuel value of all kinds of w^ood, 
green as well as dead, and for such people the fol- 
lowing information is given : 

The arts of fire-building are not so simple as they 
look. To practice them successfully in all sorts of 
wild regions we must knovv the different species ol 
trees one from another, and their relative fuel 
values, which, as we shall see, vary a great deaL 
We must know how well, or ill, each of them burns 
in a green state, as well as when seasoned. It is 
important to discriminate between wood that makes 
lasting coals, and such as soon dies down to ashes. 
Some kinds of wood pop violently when burning and 
cast out embers that may burn holes in tents and 
bedding or set the neighborhood afire; others burn 
quietly, with clear, steady flame. Some are stubborn 
to split, others almost fall apart under the axe. 
In wet weather it takes a practiced woodsman to 
find tinder and dry wood, and to select a natural 
shelter where can be kept going during a storm 
of rain or snow, when a fire is most needed. 

There are several handy little manuals by which 


one who has no botanical knowledge can soon learii 
how to identify the different species of trees by 
^nerely examining their leaves ; or, late in the season, 
by their bark, buds, and habit of growth. 

But no book gives the other information that I 
have referred to; so J shall offer, in the present chap- 
ter, a little rudimentary instruction in this im.por- 
tant branch of woodcraft. 

It is convenient for our purpose to divide the trees 
into two great groups, hardwoods and softwoods, 
using these terms not so loosely as lumbermen do, 
but drawling the line between sycamore, yellow 
birch, yellow pine, and slippery elm, on the one 
side, and red cedar, sassafras, pitch pine and white 
birch, on the other. 

As a general rule, hardwoods make good, slow- 
burning fuel that yields lasting coals, and soft- 
woods make a quick, hot fire that is soon spent. 
But each species has peculiarities that deserve close 
attention. The knack of finding what we want 
in the woods lies a good deal in knowing what 
we don't want, and passing it by at a glance. 

Uninflammable Woods. — The following 
woods will scarcely burn at all when they are 
green: basswood, black ash, balsam, box elder, buck- 
eye, cucumber, black or pitch pine and white pine, 
poplar or aspen, )^ellow poplar or tulip, sassafras, 
service berry, sourwood, sycamore, tamarack, tu- 
pelo (sour gum), water oak. Butternut, chest- 
nut, red oak, red maple, and persimmon burn very 
slowly in a green state. Such woods, or those of 
them that do not spit fire, are good for backlogs, 
hand-junks or andirons, and for side-logs in a cook- 
ing fire that is to be used continuously. Yellow 
birch and white ash, on the contrary, are better for 
a campfire when green than when seasoned. A 
dead pine log seldom burns well unless split. The 
outside catches fire readily, but it soon chars and 
goes out unless a blazing fire ^^ sticks is kept up 
against it. 


Green wood burns best in autumn and win- 
ter, when the sap is down. Trees that grow on 
high, dry ground burn better than those of the 
same species that stand in moist soil. Chestnut 
cut on the summits of the Appalachians burns 
freely, even when green, and the mountain beech 
burns as ardently as birch. Green wood growing 
along a river bank is very hard to burn. 

Spitfire Woods. — Arbor-vitae (northern '' white 
cedar") and chestnut burn to dead coals that do 
not communicate flame. They, as well as box elder, 
red cedar, hemlock, sassafras, tulip, balsam, tam- 
arack, and spruce, make a great crackling and snap- 
ping in the fire. All of the soft pines, too, are 
prone to pop. Certain hardwoods, such as sugar 
maple, beech, white oak, and sometimes hickory, 
must be watched for a time after the fire is started, 
because the embers that they shoot out are long- 
lived, and hence more dangerous than those of soft- 
woods; but they are splendid fuel, for all that. 

Stubborn Woods. — The following woods are 
very hard to split: Blue ash, box elder, buckeye, 
cherry, white elm, winged elm, sour gum, hem- 
lock (generally), liquidambar (sweet gum), honey 
locust, sugar maple, sycamore, tupelo. Some woods, 
however, that are stubborn when seasoned are 
readily split when green, such as hickory, beech, 
dogwood, sugar maple, birch, and slippery elm. 

The Best Fuel. — Best of all northern fire- 
woods is hickory, green or dry. It makes a hot 
fire, but lasts a long time, burning down to a bed 
of hard coals that keep up an even, generous heat 
for hours. Hickory, by the way, is distinctly an 
American tree; no other region on earth produces it. 
The live oak of the South is most excellent fuel, 
50 is holly. Foliow^ing the hickory, in fuel value, 
^re chestnut oak, overcup, white, blackjack, post 
^nd basket oaks, pecan, the hornbeams (ironwoods), 
and dogwood. The latter burns finally to a beau- 
tiful white ash that is characteristic; apple wood 


does the same. Black birch also ranks here; it has 
the advantage of " doing its own blowing," as a 
Carolina mountaineer said to me, meaning that 
the oil in the birch assists its combustion so that 
the wood needs no coaxing. All of the birches are 
good fuel, ranking in about this order: black, yel- 
low, red, paper, and white. Sugar maple was the 
favorite fuel of our old-time hunters and survey- 
ors, because it ignites easily, burns with a clear, 
steady flame, and leaves good coals. 

Locust is a good, lasting fuel; it is easy to cut, 
and, when green, splits fairly well; the thick bark 
takes fire readily, and the wood then burns slowly, 
with little flame, leaving pretty good coals; hence 
it is good for night-wood. Mulberry has similar 
qualities. The scarlet and willow oaks are among 
the poorest of the hardwoods for fuel. Cherry 
makes only fair fuel. White elm is poor stuff, but 
slippery elm is better. Yellow pine burns well, as 
its sap is resinous instead of watery like that of the 
soft pines. 

In some respects white ash is the best of green 
woods for campers' fuel. It is easily cut and split, 
is lighter to tote than most other hardwoods, and 
is of so dry a nature that even the green wood 
catches fire readily. It burns with clear flame, 
and lasts longer than any other free-burning wood 
of its weight. On a wager, I have built a bully 
fire from a green tree of white ash, one match, and 
no dry kindling whatever. I split some of the 
wood very fine and " frilled " a few of the little 
sticks with my knife. 

Softwoods.- • Most of the softwoods are good 
only for kindling, or for quick cooking fires, and 
then only when seasoned. For these purposes, 
however, some of them are superior, as they split 
and shave readily and catch fire easily. 

Liquidambar, magnolia, tulip, catalpa, and wil- 
low are poor fuel. Seasoned chestnut and yellow 
poplar make a hot fire, but crackle and leave no 


coals. Balsam fir, basswood, and the white and 
loblolly pines make quick fires but are soon spent. 
The gray (Labrador) pine or jack pine is con- 
sidered good fuel in the far North, where hard- 
woods are scarce. Seasoned tamarack is good. 
Spruce is poor fuel, although, being resinous, it 
kindles easily and makes a good blaze for " brand- 
ing up " a fire. Pitch pine, which is the most in- 
flammable of all woods when dry and " fat," will 
scarcely burn at all in a green state. Sycamore and 
buckeye, when thoroughly seasoned, are good fuel, 
but will not split. Alder burns readily and gives 
out considerable heat, but is not lasting. 

The dry wood of the northern poplar (large- 
toothed aspen) is a favorite for cooking fires, be- 
cause it gives an intense heat, with little or no 
smoke, lasts well, and does not blacken the uten- 
sils. Red cedar has similar qualities, but is rather 
hard to ignite and must be fed fine at the start. 

The best green softwoods for fuel are white birch, 
paper birch, soft maple, cottonwood, and quaking 

As a rule, the timber growing along the mar- 
gins of large streams is softwood. Hence drift- 
wood is generally a poor mainstay, unless there is 
plenty of it on the spot; but driftwood on the sea- 
coast is good fuel. 

Precautions. — I have already mentioned the 
necessity of clearing the camp ground of inflam- 
mable stuff before starting a fire on it, raking it 
toward a common center and burning all the dead 
leaves, pine needles, and trash; otherwise it may 
catch and spread beyond your control as soon as 
your back is turned. Don't build your fire against 
a big old punky log: it may smoulder a day or two 
after you have left, and then burst out into flame 
when a breeze fans it. 

Never leave a spark of fire when breaking camp, 
or when leaving it for the day. Make absolutely 
sure of this, by drenching the camp-fire J:horoughly, 


or by smothering it completely with earth or sand. 
Never drop a lighted match, a burning cigar stub, 
or the hot residue of your pipe, on the ground with- 
out stamping it out. Have you ever seen a forest 
fire? It is terrible. Thousands of acres are de- 
stroyed, and many a time men and women and 
children have been cut off by a tornado of flame 
and burned alive. The person whose carelessness 
starts such a holocaust is worse than a fool — he is 
a criminal, and a disgrace to the good earth he 


Summer twilight brings the mosquito. In fact, 
when we go far north or far south, we have him 
with us both by day and night. Rather I should 
say that we have her; for the male mosquito is a 
gentleman, who sips daintily of nectar and minds 
his own business, while madame his spouse is a 
whining, peevish, venomous virago, that goes about 
seeking whose nerves she may unstring and whose 
blood she may devour. Strange to say, not among 
mosquitoes only, but among ticks, fleas, chiggers, 
and the whole legion of bloodthirsty, stinging flies 
and midges, it is only the female that attacks man 
and beast. Stranger still, the mosquito is not only 
a bloodsucker but an incorrigible wine-bibber as 
well — it will get helplessly fuddled on any swet*- 
wine, such as port, or on sugared spirits, while ol 
gin it is inordinately fond. 

Such disreputable habits — the querulous sing' 
song, the poisoned sting, the thirst for blood, and 
the practice of getting dead drunk at every oppor- 
tunity, are enough of themselves to make the mos- 
quito a thing accursed; but these are by no mean.; 
the worst counts in our indictment against it. We 
have learned, within the past few years, that all the 
suffering and mortality from malaria, yellow fever, 
and filariasis (including the hideous and fatal 
elephantiasis of the tropics) is due to germs 
that are carried in no other way than by njosquitoes. 
Flies spread the germs of typhoid fever aii-d malig^ 
^ant eye diseases; fleas carry the bubon'^ piaguCf' 



the sleeping-sickness of Africa is transmitted by in- 
sects. There is no longer any guesswork about this: 
it is demonstrated fact. Professor Kellogg, sum- 
ming up what is now known of the life history of 
malaria-bearing mosquitoes {Anopheles) says: 
** When in malarial regions, avoid the bite of a 
mosquito as you would that of a rattlesnake — one 
can be quite as serious in its results as the other." 

The worst of it, from a sportsman's view-point, 
is that the farther we push toward the arctics or 
the tropics, the worse becomes the pest of dangerous 
insects. It is into just such countries that, now- 
adays and in future, we must go in order to get 
really first-class hunting and fishing. Conse- 
quently the problem of how best to fight our insect 
enemies becomes of ever increasing importance to 
all who love to hunt over and explore the wild 
places that are still left upon the earth. 

Mosquitoes are bad enough in the tropics, but 
they are at their worst in the coldest regions of the 

Mosquitoes. — Harry de Windt reports that at 
Verkhoyansk, in Siberia, which is the arctic pole of 
cold (where the winter temperature often sinks 
to -75° Fahr., and has been known to reach -8i°) 
the mosquitoes make their appearance before the 
snow is off the ground, and throughout the three 
summer months, make life almost unbearable to 
the wretched natives and exiles. The swamps and 
shoaly lakes in the surrounding country breed mos- 
quitoes in such incredible hosts that reindeer, sledge- 
dogs, and sometimes even the natives themselves, 
are actually tormented to death by them. 

Throughout a great part of central and western 
Canada, and Alaska, there are vast tundras of bog 
moss, called by the Indians muskegs, which in sum- 
mer are the breeding-grounds of unending clouds of 
niosquitoes whose biting powers exceed those of any 
insects known in the United States. Even if the 
muskeg land were not a morass, this plague of 


mosquitoes would forever render it uninhabitable 
in summer. The insects come out of their pupae 
at the first sprouting of spring vegetation, in May, 
and remain until destroyed by severe frosts in Sep- 
tember. In Alaska, all animals leave for the snow- 
line as soon as the mosquito pest appears, but the 
enemy follows them even to the mountam tops above 
rimber-line. Deer and moose are killed by mos- 
quitoes, which settle upon them in such amazing 
swarms that the unfortunate beasts succumb from 
literally having the blood sucked out of their bodies. 
Bears are driven frantic, are totally blinded, mire 
in the mud, and starve to death. Animals that sur- 
vive have their flesh discolored all through, and even 
their marrow is reduced to the consistency of blood 
and water. The men who penetrate such regions 
are not the kind that would allow toil or privation 
to break their spirit, but they become so unstrung 
from days and nights of continuous torment inflicted 
by enemies insignificant in size but infinite in num- 
ber, that they become savage, desperate, and some- 
times even weep in sheer helpless anger. 

In regions so exceptionally cursed with mosqui- 
toes no mere sportsman has any business until win- 
ter sets in. But even in the more accessible wood- 
lands north and south of us the insect pest is by 
far the most serious hardship that fishermen and 
other summer outers are obliged to meet. Head- 
nets and gauntlets are all very well in their way, 
but one can neither hunt, fish, paddle, push through 
the brush, nor even smoke, when so accoutered. 
Consequently everybody tries some kind or other 
of " fly-dope," by which elegant name we mean any 
preparation which, being rubbed over the exposed 
parts of one's skin, is supposed to discourage insects 
from repeating their attacks. 

The num.ber of such dopes is legion. They may 
be classified in three groups: 

( I ) Thick ointments that dry to a tenacious gla^e 
<Dn the skin, if the wearer abstain from washing; 


(2) Liquids or semi-fluid unguents that are sup- 
posed to protect by their odor alone, and must be 
renewed several times a day; 

(3) Insecticides, which poison the little beasts. 
Glazes. — Among the glazes, Nessmuk's recipe, 

published in his Woodcraft, is perhaps as well 
known and as widely used as any. He says this 
about it: 

"I have never known it to fail: 3 oz. pine tar, 2 oz. 
<:astor oil, i oz. pennyroyal oil. Simmer all together over a 
slow fire, and bottle for use. You will hardy need more 
than a 2-oz. vial full in a season. One ounce has lasted me 
six weeks in the woods. Rub it in thoroughly and liberally 
at first, and after you have established a good glaze, a 
Kittle replenishing from day to day will be sufficient. And 
don't fool with soap and towels where insects are plenty. 
A, good safe coat of this varnish grows better the longer it 
is kept on — and it is cleanly and wholesome. If vou get 
your face or hands crocky or smutty about the camp-fire, 
wet the corner of your handkerchief and rub it off, not for- 
getting to apply the varnish at once wherever you have 
cleaned it off. Last summer I carried a cake of soap and a 
towel in my knapsack through the North Woods for a seven 
weeks' tour, and never used either a single time. When I 
had established a good glaze on the skin, it was too val- 
uable to be sacrificed for any weak whim connected with 
soap and water. ... It is a soothing and healing applica- 
tion for poisonous bites already received." 

Aside from my personal tests of many dopes, I 
have had some interesting correspondence on this 
topic with sportsmen in various parts of the world. 
I quote from one letter received from Norman 
Fletcher, of Louisville: 

"Upon the swampy trout streams of Michigan on a warm 
May day . . . when the insects are abundant and vicious 
. . . pure pine tar is by far the best repellent when prop- 
erly used. I give two recipes: 

(i) Pure pine tar i ounce. 

Oil pennyroyal i ounce. 

Vaseline 3 ounces. 

Mix cold in a mortar. If you wish, you can add 3 per 
cent, carbolic acid to above. Sometimes I make it ij^ oz. 

(2) Pure pine tar 2 ounces, 

Castor o'l . 3 ounceso 


Simmer for half an hour, and when cool add 

Oil pennyroyal i ounce. 

There arc many others of similar nature, but the above 
are as good as any. . . . Now as to use of above: apply 
freely and frequently to all exposed parts of person, and 
do not ^as/i off until leaving the place where the pests 
abound. You can wash your eyes in the morning, and 
wash the palms of your hands as often as may be neces- 
sary, but if you wish to be immune, don't wash any other ex- 
posed parts. , . . When you get accustomed to it you will 
find some compensating comfort. ... I have had to contend 
with mosquitoes, deer-flies, black-flies, and midges . . . and 
have found " dope " with tar in it the best. I know that 
where mosquitoes are not very bad, oil of citronella, oil of 
verbena or of lemon-grass or of pennyroyal mixed with 
vaselin will keep them ofi^, if the mixture is applied fre- 
quently. These essential oils are quickly evaporated, how- 
ever, by the heat of the body. Camphorated oil is also used 
by some; this is simply sweet oil with gum camphor dis- 
solved in it: the camphor is volatile and soon evaporates. 
. . . Now I don't much like tar dope because I can not 
wash my face and hands as often as I could wish ; but when 
it is necessary to get some trout, without being worried too 
much by the insects, I can stand the tar for a few days." 

Doctor L. O. Howard, Chief of the Bureau of 
Entomolog}^ U. S. Department of Agriculture, 
recommends the following tar dope: 

" Fishermen and hunters in the North Woods will find 
that a good mixture against mosquitoes and black-flies can 
be made as follows: Take 2^ pounds of mutton tallow, 
melt and strain it. While still hot add 5^ pound black tar 
(Canadian tar), stir thoroughly, and pour into the re- 
ceptacle in which it is to be contained When nearly cool 
stir in 3 ounces of oil of citronella and ij^ ounces of penny- 

It is my own experience that tar glazes do the 
work when the weather is comparatively cool, but 
when it is so hot that one perspires freely both by 
night and day there is no chance for a glaze to be 
established. The stuff melts and runs in your eves. 
A hard rain will wash it off. Thick dopes, more or 
less sticky, are unpleasant at all times, and especially 
at night. For these reasons, and for appearance* 
sake, most people will prefer to use a fluid or un- 


guent that is less disagreeable, even though it must 
be renewed every hour or two. 

Essential Oils. — As for protective liquids, it is 
safe to say that everything in the pharmacopoeia 
that seemed the least promising has been tried. The 
oils of pennyroyal, cloves, lavender, citronella, eu- 
calyptus, cedar and sassafras are used singly or in 
combination. Spirits of camphor is offensive to 
insects but soon evaporates. 

Citronella is the favorite. All insect pests dis- 
like it; but some people, too, find the odor intoler- 
able. The oil of lavender flowers (genuine) has a 
pleasant odor, and is equally effective, but it is 
quite expensive. Both of these oils are bland, 
whereas most of the others are irritant and will 
make the eyes smart if the least bit comes in contact 
with them. Artificial oil of lavender is worthless. 

The protection afforded by a given oil depends 
somewhat upon locality (number, species, persist- 
ence of insects), and, apparently, the personal equa- 
tion cuts some figure, for what works satisfactorily 
ivith one man affords no immunity to another. 
Hence the more popular dopes are " shot-gun pre- 
scriptions," compounded on the principle that if nne 
ingredient misses another may hit. 

The trouble with all the essential oils is that 
their protective principles are volatile. To retard 
evaporation, add double or treble the amount of 
castor oil, which has a good body and is itself re- 
pugnant to the whole created kingdom. After mix- 
ing, put up some of this thick liquid in a small 
capped oil can (bicycle oiler), to carry in the field. 

Thicker dopes, which can be put up in collapsible 
tubes like artists' colors, are made by mixing the 
oil with carbolated vaseline, or with borated lano- 
lin. The latter is a particularly good base because 
it is not only antiseptic but it is also the best pre- 
ventive of sunburn, excellent for blistered feet, and 
a particularly good application for slight wounds 
and abrasions. Add enough oil of lavender flowerr 


to give it a strong odor, and put it up in tubes to 
keep out moisture. I know nothing better in the 
line of " elegant preparations " to keep off mos- 

Insecticides. — One of these is creosote. Another 
is the tincture of ledum palustre (wild rosemary, a 
European relative of our Labrador tea). Oil of 
cassia (i.e., oil of cinnamon) is said to be an irri- 
tant poison to all kinds of insects, and " its power 
remains a long time after it has dried." 

Another thing that flies of all sorts find bad for 
their systems is quassia. It is used as an ingredient 
of fly poisons, as a parasiticide, and in some fly 
dopes. Either the fluid extract or the solid may be 
employed, according to the base. 

Carbolic acid in sweet oil (i to 16) is often used 
where insects are very insistent. It has the obvious 
advantage of being a good antiseptic as well. On 
a trip to Hudson Bay, Dr. Robert T. Morris em- 
ployed a very strong solution, of which he reported : 

" We depended upon the mixture of one part of carbolic 
acid and nine parts of sweet oil to keep off various things 
that sought our acquaintance. A very little of this mixture 
on the face and hands was effective. It is a preparation 
that I learned to use in Labrador, where none of the com- 
mon applications would suffice." 

Doctor Durham, of the English Yellow Fever 
Commission, Rio de Janeiro, told Dr. L. O. How- 
ard that 

" He and the late Dr. Myers found that a 5 per cent, so- 
lution of sulphate of potash prevented mosquitoes from 
biting, and that they were obliged to use this mixture while 
at work in their laboratory in Brazil to prevent themselves 
from being badly bitten." 

I judge this vvould also be a good preventive of 
attacks from ticks and chiggers, as they cannot 
stand sulphur. 

Plain kerosene is certain death to all sorts of in- 
sect pests, so long as they have not burrowed beneath 
the skin, and one of the best preventives of their 


attacks. It is used everywhere by men whose con- 
stant exposure renders them less fastidious about 
personal greasiness and aroma than they are solici- 
tous for comfort and health. Dr. W. H. Dade, 
an army surgeon in the Philippines, found that the 
addition of one part oil of bergamot to sixteen of 
kerosene made the odor less disagreeable and added 
enough body to prevent evaporation in less than six 
to eight hours. I have used Japanese oil of cam- 
phor for the same purpose. 

Some Dopes. — The following mixtures may be 
particularly recommended : 

Mr. C. A. Nash's. 

Oil of citronella i oz. 

Spirits of camphor i oz. 

Oil of cedar J/2 oz. 

Doctor Howard says this is the most effective mixture 
he has tried. " Ordinarily a few drops on a bath towel 
hung over the head of the bed will keep Culex pipiens away 
for a whole night. Where mosquitoes are very persistent, 
however, a few drops rubbed on the face and hands will 

Dr. Edivard Beck's. 

Pine tar 3 oz. 

Olive (or castor) oil 2 oz. 

Oil pennyroyal i oz. 

Oil citronella i oz. 

Creosote i oz. 

Camphor (pulverized) i oz. 

Carbolated vaseline large tube. 

Heat the tar and oil and add the other ingredients; 
simmer over slow fire until well mixed. The tar may be 
omitted if disliked, or for ladies' use. Above will rather 
more than fill a pint screw-top tin flask. This mixture not 
only discourages insect attacks but is also a good counter- 
irritant after being bitten. One may substitute for thy 
olive oil its weight in carbolated vaseline and thus make 
an unguent that can be carried in collapsible tubes, and the 
Doctor now recommends this. 

Col. Crojton Fox's. 

Oil pennyroyal i dram. 

Oil peppermint i dram. 

Oil bergamot i dram. 


Oil cedar i dram. 

Quassia i dram. 

Gum camphor 4 drams. 

Vaseline, yellow 2 drams. 

Dissolve camphor in vaseline by heat; when cold add 

I doubt if peppermint adds anything to the effi- 
cacy of this formula, and would substitute citron- 
ella or lavender. 

The principles to be observed in compounding 
a dope of one's own are ( i ) choose your repellents 
or insecticides, or both; (2) add enough lanolin, 
vaseline, castor oil, or other base to give the desired 
** body." It is well to incorporate some good anti- 
septic w^ith the stuff, to relieve irritation and poison- 
ing from bites already received, and to serve as a 
healing ointment for abrasions, bruises, and other 
injuries, as already mentioned. Any ingredient 
that irritates the skin or makes the eyes smart should 
be avoided, except where insects are so bad that 
such addition may be necessary. 

Bites and Stings. — To relieve the itching of 
insect bites the common remedies are ammonia or 
a solution of baking soda. A better one is to cover 
each bite with flexible collodion (" New Skin ") ; 
but be sure the bottle is always securely stoppered, 
for the ether of the solvent evaporates very quickly 
and then the stuff is useless. 

A bee leaves its sting in the wound, and this of 
course should be removed ; a wasp, hornet, or yellow- 
jacket can sting repeatedly. For the pain, apply 
ammonia or baking powder solution, or a weak solu- 
tion of carbolic acid, or wet salt, moistened clay, a 
mud poultice, a slice of raw onion, or a moist quid 
of tobacco. 

Fleas. — In the high mountains of North Caro- 
lina and adjoining States there are no mosquitoes, 
at least none that sing or bite; but if a man sits 
down on a log, it may be five miles from any house, 
the chance is good that he will arise covered with 
fleas. I have been so tormented by these nimble 


allies of Auld Reekie, when spending a night in a 
herder's cabin on the summit of the Smokies, that 
I have* arisen in desperation and rubbed myself from 
head to foot with kerosene. That settled the fleas. 
Citronella will do as well. 

If you catch a flea, don't try to crush it, for you 
can't, but roll it between the fingers ; that break? 
its legs; than you can open your fingers and kill it. 
A good way, if water is handy, is to keep a tight 
grip until you get your thumb and finger into some 
water — a flea can't swim — then, if it is not al- 
ready filled with blood, it will sink, and drown, and 
go to meet its reward, which, let us hope, is a hot one. 

When you have to occupy a cabin infested with 
fleas, scrub it out with hot soapsuds, and see that 
the site is well wet beneath the floor. Fleas will 
not stay in a wet place. 

Blood-Sucking Flies. — In northern forests we 
have several species of flies that attack man. The 
deer-fly or '' bull-dog " is a small gad-fly that drives 
her dagger-like mandibles into one's skin so viciously 
that she takes out a bit of flesh and makes the blood 
flow freely. The black-fly {Similium molestum) is 
a stout, hump-backed, black termagant with trans- 
parent wings, from one-sixth to one-quarter inch 
long. This creature is a common nuisance of the 
forests and along the streams of northern New Eng- 
land, the Adirondacks, the Lake region, and Canada. 
She keeps busy until late in the afternoon, poisoning 
everything that she attacks, and raising a painful 
lump as big as a dime at every bite. Closely related 
species are the buffalo-gnat and turkey-gnat of the 
South, which sometimes appear in incredible num- 
bers, driving animals frantic and setting up an in- 
flammatory fever that may prove fatal. Black- 
flies and their ilk are easily driven away by smudges. 
Mosquito dopes will protect one from them. 

Blow-Flies. — Worst of all flies, though fortu- 
nately rare in the North (it has been known to reach 
Canada), is the screw-worm fly {Compsomyia macel- 
laria), a bright metallic-green insect with golden re- 


flections and four black stripes on the upper part of 
the body. This is a blow-tiy which has the sicken- 
ing habit of laying its eggs in wounds, and even in 
the nostrils of sleeping men. Several fatalities from 
this cause have been reported in our country; they 
have been much more numerous in South America. 
The gusanero of tropical America is described by a 
traveler as '* a beast of a fly that attacks you, you 
know not when, till after three or four months you 
know that he has done so by the swelling up of the 
bitten part into a fair-sized boil, from which issues a 
maggot of perhaps an inch and a half in length." 
Another Amazonian fly of similar habits is the birni, 
whose larva generates a grub in one's skin that re- 
quires careful extraction, lest it be crushed in the 
operation, " and then," said a native, " gentlemen 
often go to o outro mundo" (the other world). 
The motuca of Brazil has ways similar to those of 
our black-fly, and, like it, can easily be killed with 
one's fingers. 

Pests of the Tropics. — While I am on this 
topic, it may add a little to the contentment of those 
outers who are unable to seek adventure in faraway 
lands, but must needs camp within a hundred miles 
or so of home, if I transcribe from the pages of a 
well-known naturalist the following notes on some 
of the impediments to travel in the tropics: 

"But the most numerous and most dreaded of all ani- 
mals in the middle Amazons are the insects. Nearly all 
kinds of articulate life here have either sting or bite. The 
strong trade wind keeps the lower Amazons clear of the 
winged pests; but soon after leaving Manaos, and espe- 
cially on the Maranon in the rainy season, the traveler 
becomes intimately acquainted with half a dozen insects 
of torture: 

(i) The sanguinary mosquito. . . . There are several 
species, most of them working at night; but one black fel- 
low with white feet is diurnal. Doctor Spruce experi- 
mented upon himself, and found that he lost, by leuing the 
blood-letters have their own way, three ounces of blood 
per day. . . . The ceaseless irritation of these ubiquitous 
creatures makes life almost intolerable. The great Cortez, 
afcfc^ ?l] his victories, could not forget his struggles with 


these despicable enemies he could not conquer. Scorpion 
with cocked tails, spiders six inches in diameter, and c^entl 
o'f mos^^uitoes' ?". !^^ '°^^"^' ^'' "^ ^^'^ ^ ^^^ - ^ ^Kid 

.Ji'i ^^^ ^•"'"^. o^„ sand-fly, a species of tromhidium 
called mosquito in Peru. It is a minute, dark-colored 
dipter with two triangular, horny lancets, which leave a 
mall, circular red spot on the skin. It works by day re 
lie/ing the mosquito at sunrise. It is the great scourge of 
In ,W "'""k ^'"^ ^ paradisiac spot is%onverted^in°o 
an inferno by its presence. There are several species 
which follow one another in succession through the day 
all of them being diurnal. Their favorite region is saTd 
to be on the Cassiquiare and upper Orinoco 
. (3.) The maruim, which resembles the pium. The- are 
infinitely numerous on the Jurua. Humboldt estimated 
there were a million to a cubic foot of air where he was. 
/.iv . N ^otucac^Wtd tabono on the Maranon {Hadrus 
lepidotus) resembling a small horse-fly, of a bronze-black 
color with the tips of the wings transparent, and a for- 
midable proboscis, ... 

(5) The moquim ... a microscopic scarlet acarus re- 
sembhng a minute crab under the glass. It swarm's on 
weeds and bushes and on the skin causes an intolerable 
Itching. An hour's walk through the grassy streets of 
1 effe was sufficient to cover my entire bodv with mvriads 
oi moquims, which it took a week, and repeated bathing 
with rum, to exterminate. 

{e) Carapdtos or ticks {ixodes), which mount to the 
tips of blades of grass, attach themselves to the clothes of 
passersby,_and bury their jaws and heads so deeplv in the 
flesh that It IS difficult to remove them without leaving the 
proboscis behind to fret and fester. In sucking one's blood 
they cause no pain; but serious sores, even ulcers often 
result. ... ' 

These few forms of insect life must forever hinder the 
settlement of the valley. . . . Besides there are ants . . 
innumerable in species and individuals, and of all sizes 
trom the little red ant of the houses to the mammoth to'- 
kandera, an inch and a half long. , . . The latter 
bites fiercely, but rarely causes death. Doctor Spruce likens 
the pain to a hundred thousand nettles. ... On the Tapa- 
jos lives the terrible fire-ant . . . whose sting is likened 
to the puncture of a red-hot needle. The saiihas are not 
carnivorous, but they make agriculture almost impossible. 
. . . There are black and yellow wasps. . . . The large 
hairy caterpillars should be handled with care as the 
irritation caused by the nettling hairs is sometimes a serious 
matter. Cockroaches are great pests in the villages. Lice 
hnd a congenial home on the unwashed Indians of every 
^nbe. but particularly the Andean. Jiggers and fleas prefer 


dry, sandy localities; they are accordingly most abounding 
on the mountains. The Pacific slope is worthy of being 
called flea-dom." — Orton, The Andes and the Amazons, 
pp. 484-487. 

Northern Chiggers. — The moquim mentioned 
above answers the description of our own chigger, 
jigger, red-bug, as she is variously called, which is an 
entirely different beast from the real chigger or 
•chigoe of the tropics. I do not know what may be 
the northern limit of these diabolic creatures, but 
have made their acquaintance on Swatara Creek in 
Pennsylvania. They are quite at home on the 
orairies of southern Illinois, exist in myriads on the 
Ozarks, and throughout the lowlands of the South, 
and are perhaps worst of all in some parts of Texas. 
The chigger, as I shall call it, is invisible on one's 
skin, unless you know just what to look for. Get it 
on a piece of black cloth, and you can distinguish 
w^hat looks like a fine grain of red pepper. Put it 
under a microscope, and it resembles, as Orton says, 
a minute crab. It lives in the grass, and on the un- 
der side of leaves, dropping off on the first man or 
beast that comes its w^ay. Then it prospects for a 
good place, where the skin is thin and tender, and 
straightway proceeds to burrow, not contenting it- 
self, like a tick, w^ith merely thrusting its head in and 
getting a good grip, but going in body and soul, to 
return no more. The victim is not aware of what 
is in store for him until he goes to bed that night. 
Then begins a violent itching, which continues for a 
week or two. I have had two hundred of these 
tormenting things in my skin at one time. 

If one takes a bath in salt water every night be- 
fore retiring, he can keep fairly rid of these unwel- 
come guests. A surer preventive is to rub kerosene 
on the waists, neck, ankles, and abdominal region. 
Powdered sulphur dusted into one's drawers and 
stocking legs will do if one keeps out of the bushes. 
Naphthaline may be used successfully in the same 

The country ReppJ.e sometimes rub themselves 


with salty bacon-rind before going outdoors, and 
claim that this is a preventive; also that kerosene 
will do as well. If one keeps an old suit of clothes 
expressly for chigger-time, puts the suit in a closet, 
and fumigates it thoroughly with the smoke of burn- 
ing tobacco stems, no chigger will touch him. Alas! 
that the preventives should all be so disagreeable. 

When chiggers have burrowed underneath the 
skin, neither salt, nor oil, nor turpentine, nor car- 
bolized ointment, nor anything else that I have tried 
will kill them, save mercurial ointment or the tinc- 
ture of stavesacre seed, both of which are dangerous 
if incautiously used. After much experiment, I 
found that chloroform, dropped or rubbed on each 
separate welt, will stop the itching for several hours. 
It is quite harmless, and pleasant enough to apply. 

Moderately strong ammonia, or a saturated solu- 
tion of baking soda, will suffice if applied as soon as 
the itching is felt, but they are useless if treatment 
is delayed. In the latter case, I would use tincture 
of iodine. It is said that collodion brushed ovei 
each welt will act as a specific, but I have had no 
chance to try it. 

The chigger seems particularly fond of the but- 
terfly-weed or pleurisy-root. It is seldom much of 
a nuisance until the middle of June, and generally 
disappears in the latter part of September. 

Tropical Chigoes. — The chigoe or sand-flea of 
Mexico, Central America, and South America, is a 
larger and more formidable pest than our little red- 
bug. It attacks, preferably, the feet, especially un- 
der the nail of the great toe, and between the toes. 
The insect burrows there, becomes encysted, swells 
enormously from the development of her young, and 
thus sets up an intolerable itching in the victim's 
skin. If the female is crushed or ruptured in the 
tumor she has formed, the result is likely to be am- 
putation of the toe, if nothing worse. She should 
be removed entire by careful manipulation with a 
needle. This chigoe is a native of tropical America, 
but seems to be gradually spreading northward. 


About 1872 it was introduced into Africa, and 
spread with amazing rapidity over almost the entire 
continent. It will probably soon invade southern 
Europe and Asia. 

Ticks. — The wood-ticks that fasten on man are, 
like the chiggcrs, not true insects, but arachnids, re- 
lated to the scorpions and spiders. They are leath- 
ery-skinned creatures of about the same size and 
shape as a bedbug, but of quite different color and 
habits. They *' use " on the under side of leaves of 
low shrubs, and thence are detached to the person of 
a passer-by just as chiggers are. They also abound 
in old mulchy wood, and are likely to infest any 
log that a tired man sits on. They hang on like 
grim death, and if you try to pull one off your skin, 
its head will break off and remain in the epidermis^ 
to create a nasty sore. The ticks that infest birds, 
bats, sheep, and horses, are true insects, in no wise 
related to the wood-ticks, dog-ticks, and cattle-ticks. 
The cattle-tick is responsible for the fatal disease 
among cattle that is known as Texas fever. 

Preventive measures are the same as for chiggers. 

To remove a tick without breaking off its head, 
drop oil on it, or clap a quid of moistened tobacco 
on it, or touch it with nicotine from a pipe, or 
stand naked in the dense smoke of a green-wood 
fire, or use whiskey externally, or hot water, or 
flame ; in either case the tick will back its way out. 
The meanest ticks to get rid of are the young, which 
are known as " seed-ticks." They are hard to dis- 
cover until they have inflamed the skin, and then 
are hard to remove because they are so small and 
fragile. A man may find himself covered with hun- 
dreds of them. In such case let him strip and rub 
himself with kerosene, or, lacking that, steep some 
tobacco or a strong cigar in warm water and do the 
same with it. They will drop off. 

PuNKiES. — The punkie or '* no-see-um " of our 
northern wildwoods, and its cousins the biting gnats 
and stinging midges of southern and western forests, 
are minute bloodsuckers that, according to my 


learned friend Professor Comstock, live, " under 
the bark of decaying branches, under fallen leaves, 
and in sap flowing from wounded trees." 

With all due deference to this distinguished 
entomologist, I must aver that they don't live there 
when I am around; they seem particularly fond of 
sap flowing from wounded fishermen. Dope will 
keep them from biting you, but it won't keep them 
out of your eyes. Punkies are particularly annoy- 
ing about sunset. They seem to know just when 
and where you will be cleaning the day's catch of 
trout, and that you will then be completely at their 
mercy. At such times you will agree that they beat 
all creation for pure, downright cussedness. Oil of 
citronella will protect your face and neck, but you 
can't have it on your hands when cleaning the fish, 
Punkies can't stand a smudge. 

Insects in Camp. — The common house-fly, 
which, as Dr. Howard suggests, should be called 
the typhoid-fly, is often a great nuisance in camps. 
Screening of tents and of food supplies is the only 
sure remedy. Burning insect powder (pyrethrum) 
will drive them out of a tent or cottage, and that is 
also a good way to get rid of the wood cockroaches 
that sometimes are attracted by the lights of the 
camp and proceed to make themselves offensively at 

Sometime you may elect to occupy an aban- 
doned lumber camp while on an outing. My ad- 
vice is, pass it by : not all its inhabitants have moved 
away. Any shack in the woods may harbor bed- 
bugs. If you must use such a place, don't forget 
the kerosene can. 

If ants are troublesome about camp, try to find 
the nest by following the workers; then pour kero- 
sene or boiling water into it. Red pepper or oil of 
sassafras sprinkled about may discourage them, but 
repellent substances are not to be depended upon. 
Kerosene is the sovereign remedy. 

Smudges. — A good smudge is raised by using 
cedar ''cigars," made as follows*. Take long 


strips of cedar bark and bunch them together into 
a fagot six or eight inches in diameter, about one 
strip in three being dry and the others water- 
soaked ; bind them with strips of the inner bark of 
green cedar. Ignite one end at the camp-fire, and 
set up two or more such cigars on different sides 
of the camp, according as the wind may shift. 
Punky wood piled on a bed of coals is also good. 
The ammoniacal vapors from a smudge of dried 
cow-dung is particularly effective. I have else- 
where referred to smudges made of dried toad- 
stools; these are peculiarly repellent to punkies. A 
toadstool as large as one's two fists will hold fire 
for six or eight hours. A piece of one can be car- 
ried suspended by a string around one's neck, the 
burning end out. If the fungus is too damp at 
first, it can soon be dried out by placing it before 
the fire. 

Scorpions. — Scorpions are not uncommon as 
^ar north as Missouri. I often used to find them 
in the neighborhood of St. Louis — little red fel- 
lows about 4 inches long. In the southwest, where 
they abound, they grow to a length of 6 or 7 
inches. They hide by day under flat rocks, in 
dead trees, and in moist, dark places generally, and 
do their foraging at night. They are very bellig- 
erent, always fighting to the death. They carry 
their tails curled upV/ard and forward, and can 
only strike upward and backward. They are 
sometimes unpleasantly familiar around camp, 
especially in rainy weather, having a penchant for 
crawling into bedding, boots, coat sleeves, trousers 
legs, etc. 

The sting of a small scorpion is about as severe 
as that of a hornet; that of a large one is more 
serious, but never fatal, so far as I know, except to 
small children. After a person is stung a few 
times he is inoculated, and proof against the poison 
tnereafter. If you get stung, take a hollow key 
or small tube, press the hollow with force over the 
♦juncture, causing- th**. poison and a little blood to 


exude, hold firmly in place for several minutes, 
and, if the scorpion was a large one, you have a 
good excuse for drinking all the whiskey you want. 
Ordinarily a quid of moist tobacco locally applied 
eases the pain and reduces the swelling. Tobacco 
juice, by the way, is fatal to scorpions, tarantulas, 
and centipedes, and will set a snake crazy. 

An uncommonly severe bite should be treated 
like snake-bite (see Volume II). 

Tarantulas. — I first witnessed the leaping 
powers of a tarantula one night when I was alone 
in a deserted log cabin in southern Missouri. The 
cabin had noi; been occupied for fifteen years, and 
there was no furniture in it. I had scarcely made 
my bed on the board floor when a tornado struck 
the forest. It was a grand sight, but scared me 
stiff. Weli, the electric plant w^as working finely; 
just then, the lightning being almost a continuous 
glare. A tarantula that spread as broad as my 
hand jumped out of the straw that I was lying on 
and — it was hard to tell which was quicker, he or 
the lightning. He seemed disturbed about some- 
thing. Not being able lo fight the tornado, I tooL 
after the big spider with an old stumpy biroom that 
happened to be in the cabin. When the broom 
would land at one side of the room, the tarantula 
would be on the other side. I was afraid he would 
spring for my face, but presently he popped into 
a hole somewhere, and vanished. The cabin some- 
how stuck to terra firma, and I returned to my 

The tarantula's habits are similar to the scor- 
pion's. The fangs are in its mouth. The bJte 13 
very severe, but not fatal to an adult. Cases of 
men being injured by either of these venomous 
arachnids are extremely rare, considering \'-i*.e 
abundance of the pests in som.e countries, and their 
habit of secreting themselves in clothes and bed- 
ding. If you want to see a battle royal, drop a 
scorD'pn and a tarantula into the same box. They 


will spring for each other in a flash, and both are 
absolutely game to the last. 

Centipedes. — I have had no personal experi- 
ence with centipedes. Paul Fountain says: 

" The centipedes were an intolerable nuisance for they 
had a nasty habit of hiding among the bed-clothes and un- 
der the pillows, attracted there to prey on the bugs, as I 
suppose ; one evil as a set-off to another. But the reiitipedes 
were something more than a mere nuisance. Jt is all 
very well to be blandly told by gentlemen who think they 
know all about it that the bites of centipedes and scorpions 
are not dangerous. It may not be particularly dangerous 
to have a red-hot wire applied to your flesh, but it is con- 
foundedly painful. Yet that is to be preferred to a centi- 
pede bite, which will not only make you dance at the time 
of infliction, but leave a painful swelling for many day? 
after, accompanied by great disturbance of the system." 

The cowpunchers' remedy for centipede bites, ac-^ 
wording to Mr. Hough, was " a chaw of tobacco on 
the outside and a horn of whiskey on the inside, 
both repeated frequently. " 

Porcupines. — In northern woods the porcupine 
is a common nuisance. It is a stupid beast, devoid 
of rear, and an inveterate camp marauder. You 
may kick it or club it unmercifully, yet it will re- 
turn again and again to forage and destroy. The 
*' porky " has an insistent craving for salt, and will 
gnaw anything that has the least saline flavor, any- 
thing that perspiring hands have touched, such as 
an axe-handle, a gunstock, a canoe paddle, and wnll 
ruin the article. He is also ford of leather, and 
will chew up your saddle, bridle, shoes, gloves, 
belts, the sweat-band of your hat, or any sweaty 
cloth or rope. Foodstuffs that are salty or greasy 
are never safe from him unless hung up on wires- 
Porcupine quills, being barbed, are hard to ex- 
tract. When they break off they work deep into 
the flesh. They are poisonous, in a way, and cause 
severe pain. 

The porcupine is not found south of the Cana- 
dian faunal zone, which extends well down into 
9ur northern States. 


Skunks. — Another notoriously fearless pest is 
the skunk. It will turn tail quickly enough, but 
nothing on earth will make it run. If a skunk 
takes it into his head to raid your camp he will step 
right in without any precautions whatever. Then 
he will nose through all of your possessions, walk 
over you if you be in his way, and forty men can- 
not intimidate him. 

Once when I was spending the summer in a 
herder?' hut, on a summit of the Smoky Mountains, 
a skunk burrowed under the cabin wall and came 
up through the earthen floor. It was about mid- 
night. My two companions slept in a pole bunk 
against the wall, and I had an army cot in the 
middle of the room. It was cold enough for an 
all-night fire on the hearth. 

I awoke with the uneasy feeling that some in- 
truder was moving about ia the darkness. There 
was no noise, and my first thought was of rattle- 
snakes, which were numerous in that region. I sat 
up and lit the lantern, which hung over my head. 
One glance was enough. " Boys," I warned in a 
stage whisper, " for the love of God, don't breathe; 
there's a skunk at the foot of my bed !" 

The animal was not in the least disconcerted by 
the light, but proceeded leisurely to inspect the 
premises. It went under my cot and nosed around 
there for five mortal minutes, while I lay rigid as 
a corpse. 

Then Doc sneezed. I heard Andy groan from 
under his blanket: "You damn fool: now we'll 
get it!" 

But we didn't. Madame Polecat waddled to 
their bunk, and I had a vision of two fellows sweat- 
ing blood. 

Then she moved over to the grub chest, found 
some excelsior lying beside it, and deliberately went 
to work making a nest. 

An hour passed. I simply had to take a smoke. 
My tobacco was on a shelf right over the skunk. 
I risked all, arose very quietly, reached over the 


beast, got my tobacco, and retired like a ghost to 
the other end of the cabin to warm myself at the 
fire. We were prisoners; for the only door was a 
clapboard affair on wooden hinges that skreeked 
like a dry axle. 

The visitor, having made its bed, did not yet 
feel like turning in, but decided to find out what 
for a bare-legged, white-faced critter I was, any- 
how. It came straight over to the fireplace and 
sniffed my toes. The other boys offered all sorts 
of advice, and I talked brimstone back at them — 
we had found that pussy didn't care a hang for 
human speech so long as it was gently modulated. 

That was a most amiable female of her species. 
True, she investigated all our property that was 
within reach, but she respected it, and finally she 
cuddled up in the excelsior, quite satisfied with her 
new home. 

To cut an awfully long story short, the polecat 
held us spellbound until daybreak. Then she 
crawled out through her burrow, and we instantly 
fled through our skreeky door. Doc had a shotgun 
in his hand and murder in his heart. Not being 
well posted on skunk reflexes, he stepped up within 
ten feet and blew the animal's head clean off by a 
simultaneous discharge of both barrels. Did that 
headless skunk retaliate? It did, brethren, it did! 

Many methods have been reported effective in 
deodorizing clothing that has been struck by the 
skunk's efliiuvium. Burying the clothes In earth is 
of no use unless they are left there long enough to 
rot them (they will smell again every time they get 
wet). Chloride of lime Is objectionable for the 
same reason. Ammonia Is said to neutralize the 
odor, and benzine or w^ood alcohol to extract it. 
An old trappers' remedy Is to wrap the clothes in 
fresh hemlock boughs and leave them out-of-doors 
for twenty-four hours. A writer in one of the 
sportsmen's magazines states that, having met dis- 
aster In the shape of a skunk, he took an old farmer's 
advice, put some cornmeal on top of a hot stove, 

262 e^r.rriNG AND WOODCRAFT 

and, when it began to char and smoke, he held 
the clothes In the smoke for somewhat less than five 
minutes, by which time the scent was gone, nor did 
it ever reappear, even when the clothes were damp. 
Personally I never have had occasion to try any of 
these remedies. 

The belief that skunk-bite Is likely to cause hy- 
drophobia is common in the Southwest, and to some 
extent it is borne out by the reports of army sur- 
geons. A considerable number of soldiers and 
plainsmen bitten by the spotted or rock skunk of 
that region, which Is a particularly aggressive crea- 
ture, have undoubtedly died of hydrophobia. Yet 
the facts seem to be, as explained by W. Wade in 
the American Naturalist, that although men and 
other animals have been stricken mad by skunk- 
bite and have died therefrom, still this has only 
happened during an epidemic of rabies, in which 
skunks, being slow-moving and utterly fearless 
creatures, fell easy prey to rabid dogs or wolves. 
Becoming mad, in their turn, they would bite men 
sleeping in the open, and their bites would usually 
be inflicted upon the men's faces, hands and other 
exposed parts of their persons. In such cases, since 
none of the poisonous saliva was wiped off by cloth- 
ing, the result was almost certain death. But 
rabies is very exceptional among skunks, and the 
bite of a healthy animal is not a serious matter. 

The best insurance against skunks and preda- 
tory beasts in general is a good camp dog. 

Wolverines. — The wolverine, also called glut- 
ton, carcajou, skunk bear, and Indian devil, Is the 
champion thief of the wilderness. Lacking the 
speed of most of his family, the weasel and nii^rter 
tribe, and devoid of special means of defence such 
as have been given the skunk and the porcupine, he 
has developed a diabolic cunning, which, coupled 
with his great strength and dogged persistence, 
makes him detested beyond all other creatures lu 
the wild Northland that he inhabits. He syste- 
matically robs hunters of their game, trappers cf 


their bait, and breaks into caches that defy almost 
any other animal. If he finds more food than his 
capacious paunch will hold, he defiles the rest so 
that no beast, however hungry, will touch it. So 
far as I know, the wolverine is practically extinct 
in our country except in the northwestern States 
bordering on Canada. 

Other Camp Thieves. — The bushy-tailed 
pack rat of the West is noted for carrying oft any 
and everything that he can get away with, but the 
eastern wood rats and wood mice seldom do much 
damage about a camp beyond chewing up canvas 
or other cotton goods to build nests with — a trick 
tiiat flying-squirrels also are prone to play. 

I have never been, bothered by 'coons, although 
living where they are abundant. But " Nessmuk " 
had a difterent experience. Many years ago he 
told in Forest and Stream of his troubles with them 
in northern Pennsylvania. — 

" A strong cache ... is indispensable in this region, for 
there is not a night during the open season in which you 
can lay by meat, fish, or butter, where hedgehogs and 
'coons will not find it. Their strength and persistence in 
digging out your larder is something surprising. I have 
a butter cup with a tight-fitting cover, and a square tin 
case for keeping pork, also with a tight cover. Time 
and again I have had these tins raided by raccoons, nosed 
around, wallowed in the mud, and moved yards away from 
the cache; but the covers stuck like burs, and it must drive 
a 'coon frantic to work half the night in unearthing a 
butter cup, and then, wuth onh' one thickness of tin be- 
tween his nose and the longed-for butter, be unable to 
get a taste of it. Unless the 'coon dialect has plenty of 
cuss-words I don't see how he could ever get over it" 



Butchering is the most distasteful part of a 
hunter's work — a job to be sublet when you can; 
but sometimes you can't. 

When an animal is shot, the first thing to do is 
to bleed it, unless the bullet itself has gone clean 
through and left a large hole of exit through which 
much blood has drained. 

Even birds and fish should be bled as soon as 
secured. The meat keeps better, and, in the case 
of a bird, the feathers are more easily plucked. 
Speaking, now, of large game, do not drop your 
gun and rush in on a dying beast to stick it, for it 
might prove an ugly customer in its death struggle. 
First put a bullet through its heart or spine. 

To cut a deer's throat would ruin the head for 
mounting. Twist its head to one side, with the 
throat downhill, if possible, so that blood will not 
flow over the hide; then stick your knife in at the 
point of the breast, just in front of the sternum 
or breastbone, and work the point of the knife two 
or three inches back and forth, close up to the back- 
bone, so as to sever the great blood-vessels. Then 
if you must hurry on, perhaps after another animal, 
toss some brush over the carcass, or hang a hand- 
kerchief over it, to suggest a trap, and make a brush 
blaze here and there as you go along, to guide you 
back to the spot. 

If practicable, remove the entrails at once. To 
do this, it is not necessary to hang the animal up. 



If you are in a hurry, or if the camp is not far away, 
it will do merely to take out the paunch and in- 
testines ; but if this is neglected gas will accumulate 
and putrefaction will soon set in. A bear, espe- 
cially, ^vill soon spoil, because the fur keeps in the 
vital heat, so that the body will smoke when opened, 
even after it has lain a long time in hard-freezmg 

If the animal is not to be butchered on the spot, 
slit the skin only from vent to stomach, using the 
noint of the knife, and taking care not to rupture 
the paunch. Sever the intestine at the rectum, cut 
the genitals free, then cut off the gullet as high 
as you can above the stomach, and pull all out. 
The carcass should lie so that this is done toward 
the downhill side. 

Dragging a Deer.— If the ground is not too 
rough, nor the distance too great, a deer may be 
dragged to camp over the snow or leaves; but drag 
it head-foremost; if pulled the other way every hair 
will act as a barb against the ground. Betore 
starting, tie the front legs to the lower jaw. i he 
carcass will slide easier, and the hide will not be 
so disfigured, if you first drop a bush or small tree 
by cutting through the roots, leaving a stub ot a 
root projecting for a handle, jhen tie the animal 
on the upper side of the bush, and drag away. 

Packing Deer on a Saddle.— To pack a deei 
on horseback: first, if your horse is green in the 
business, let him smell the deer, pet him, and, it 
necessary, blindfold him until you get the carcass 
lashed in place. Even then you may h^ve trouble^ 
I have seen a mule get such a conniption ht at the 
smell of blood that he bucked himself, deer, and 
saddle, off a cut-bank into a swift river; the girth 
hvokt, and that saddle is going yet. 

It may be necessary to smear some ot the deer s 
blood on your horse's nose to kill the scent 

If the animal is antlered, remove the head and 
mak*^ a separate parcel of it. 

Re-cinch your saddle, and, if the deer is too 


heavy to lift upon the horse's back, fasten youi: 
picket-rope to the deer's hind legs, throw the line 
over the saddle, get on the other side, and haul 
away until the deer's hocks are up even with the 
saddle; then quickly snub the rope around the sad- 
dle-horn, go around, swing the burden over the sad- 
dle, balancing it evenly, and lash it fast. Or, if 
you wish to ride, move the deer behind the saddle 
and lash it there, bringing the legs forward on 
either side and tying them to the rings of the cinch. 
For thongs, if the saddle has none, cut strips froin 
the skin of the deer's fore legs. Be sure to fasten 
the load securely, so that it cannot slip, or you 
will have a badly frightened horse. By skinning 
the legs from hoofs to ankles, partly disarticulat- 
ing the latter, and then tying the legs snugly, they 
will not dangle and scare the horse, nor catch in 

Another way is to place the deer in the saddle 
seat, back to horn, legs to rear. Tie one end of a 
short rope to latigo ring, pass rope around deer 
back of shoulders and once more through the ring. 
Bring rope out in front of deer's breast, take a half 
turn with it in rope back of shoulders, and pull all 
tight. Take two half hitches on saddle horn. Re- 
peat on opposite side, but bring rope up between 
hind legs of deer, take the half turn, and fasten to 
saddle horn as before. Now tie deer's head on top 
of load. This method of packing is recommended 
by W. G. Corker, who says '* no horse alive can 
buck it off." 

A simpler but secure way is to cut slits for thongs 
above the hocks and knees and another slit along 
the brisket. Place the deer on the saddle in such 
manner that the saddle horn sticks through the slit 
brisket. Tie down the legs at their middle joints 
to the cinch-ring on each side. (Emerson Hough.) 

Carrying on a Litter. — Tw^o men can carry 
a deer on a pole Ny tying its legs together in pairs, 
slipping the pole through, and tying the head to the 
onle. Unless the carcass is tied snugly ^o the pole- 


such a burden will swing like a pendulum as you 
trudge along, especially if the pole is at all springy. 

A more comfortable way is to make a litter of 
two poles by laying them parallel, about two and 
one-half feet apart, and nailing or tying cross-pieces 
athwart the poles. Whittle the ends of the poles 
to a size convenient for your hands, and fasten to 
each end of the litter a broad strap, in such a way 
that it may pass over the shoulders of the carrier 
and thus take up much of the weight. Then lash 
the animal securely to the top of the litter. 

Carrying Single-handed. — One man can 
carry a small deer entire by dragging it to a fallen 
tree, boosting it up on the log, lengthwise and back 
down, then grasping one or both hind legs with one 
hand and the fore legs with the other, and carry- 
ing the load so tha^ its weight is on the back of his 
neck and shoulders. 

Or you may prop the deer on the log breast 
down, squat with back of your neck against the 
body, put one arm under near front leg, the othej 
under near hind leg, get the carcass on your shoul- 
ders, and arise. 

A better scheme is to cut a slit through the lower 
jaw and up through the mouth, and another slit 
through each of the legs between the tendons, just 
above the hoof; tie the head and legs together, bm. 
not too close, and then, by the loop thus formed, 
swing the burden over your shoulder. 

To carry a larger animal pickaback: gut it, cut 
off the head and hang it up to be called for later, 
skin the legs down to the knees and hocks, cut off 
the shinbones, tie the skin of each fore leg to the 
hind leg on the same side, put the arms through the 
loops thus formed, and " git ep !" Or, remove the 
bones from the fore legs from knee to foot, leaving 
the feet on, tie the hind legs together and the fore 
legs to them., thrust your head and one arm 
through, and carry the burden as a soldier does a 

The Indian Pack. — When one has a long way 


to go, and can only carry the hide and the choicei 
parts of the meat, the best way is to make up an 
Indian pack, as shown in Fig. 114. Skin the deer, 
place a stick athwart the inside of the skin, pack 

Fig. 114 — Indian Deer Pack 

the saddles, hams, and tid-bits in the latter, and 
roll up and tie in a convenient bundle. 

Hanging to Butcher. — It is not necessary to 
hang a deer up to skin and butcher it ; but that is 
the more cleanly way. One man, unassisted, can 
hang a pretty heavy animal in the following way: 
Drag it headforemost to a sapling that is just lim- 
ber enough to bend near the ground when you climb 
it. Cut three poles, ten or twelve feet long, with 
crotches near the ends. Climb the sapling and trim 
off the top, leaving the stub of one stout branch 
near the top. Tie your belt, or a stout withe or 
flexible root, into a loop around the deer's antlers 
or throat. Bend the sapling down until you can 
slip the loop over the end of the sapling. The 
latter, acting as a spring-pole, will lift part of the 
deer's weight. Then place the crotches of the poles 
under the fork of the sapling, butts of poles radiat- 
ing outward, thus forming a tripod. First push 
on one pole, then on another, and so raise the car- 
cass free from the ground. If you do not intend 
to butcher it immediately, raise it up out of reach 
gf roving dogs and " varmints." 


It Is common practice to hang deer by gambrels 
with the head down ; but, when hung head up, the 
animal is easier to skin and to butcher, drains bet- 
ter, and does not drop blood and juices over the 
head and neck, which you may want to have 
mounted for a trophy. Dried blood is very hard 
to remove from hair or fur. If the skin is stripped 
ol^ from rear to head it will be hard to grain. And 
if the animal is not to be skinned for some time it 
is best hung by the head, because the slope of the 
hair then sheds rain and snow instead of holding 
them, and the lung cavity does not collect blood, 
rain, or snow. 

The more common way of skinning a deer, when 
the head is not wanted for mounting, is to hang 
it up by one hind leg and begin skinning at the 
hock, peeling the legs, then the body, and finally 
the neck, then removing the head with skin on (for 
baking in a hole), after which the carcass is swung 
by both legs and is eviscerated. 

If there is no time to hang the deer, open It, 
throw the entrails well off to one side, then cover 
the carcass with boughs as if it were a trap, or 
hang a handkerchief, or the blown-up bladder of 
the animal, over it, to scare away marauders. 
Place the deer so it will drain downhill. And 
don't neglect to blaze your way out, so you can 
find it again. 

Butchering Deer. — Now let us suppose that 
you have killed a deer far away from camp, and 
that you wish to skin and butcher it on the spot, 
saving all parts of it that are good for anything. 
You are alone. You wish to make a workmanlike 
job of it. You carry only the choicer parts with 
you that evening, and must fix the rest so it will 
not be molested overnight. 

Of course, you have a jack-knife, and either a 
pocket hatchet or a big bowie-knife — probably the 
latter, if this is your first trip. First hang the 
deer, as described above. By the time you are 
through cutting those poles with the knife your 


hand will ache between thumb and forefinger; a 
tomahawk would have been better. 

Skinning. — - This is your first buck, and you 
wish to save the head for mounting. For this the 
skin of the whole neck must be preserved, clear 
back to the shoulders. Cleanse away any blood 
that may have issued from the nose and mouth, and 
stuff some dry moss, or other absorbent, in the 
beast's mouth. Stick your big knife into a log 
alongside; it is only to look at, for the present. 

Open your jack-knife, insert the point, edge up, 
where the neck joins the back, and cut the skin in 
a circle around the base of the neck, running from 
the withers dow^n over the front of the shoulder- 
blade to the brisket or point of the breast on each 
side. Do not skin the head at present — you may 
not have time for that. Insert the point of the 
knife through the skin over the paunch, and, fol- 
lowing the middle line of the chest, slit upward 
to meet the cut around the neck. Then reverse, 
and continue the slit backward to the end of the 
tail, being careful not to perforate the walls of the 
belly. Then slit along the inside of each leg from 
the hoof to the belly-slit. If you wish to save the 
feet for mounting, be particular to rip the skin in 
a straight line up the under side of the leg, start- 
ing by inserting the point of the knife between 
the heel-pads. 

Now comes a nice trick, that of severing the 
shanks. Nearly every inexperienced person starts 
too high. Study the accompanying illustrations 


Fig. 115 — The Place to Use Your Knife. From Forest 
and Stream 

{)i these joints, noting where the arrow points, 
'*^hich is the place to use your knife. In a 


deer the joint is about an inch and a half below 
the hock on the hind leg, and an inch below the 
knee on the fore leg. Cut square across through 
skin and muscles, in front, and similarly behind ; 
then, with a quick pull backward against your knee, 
snap the shank off. The joint of the fore leg is 
broken in a similar manner, excepting that it is 
snapped forward. 

Having stripped the vertebrae from the tail, now 
peel the skin off the whole animal, from the shoul- 
ders downward, assisting with your closed fist, and, 
where necessary, with the knife; but wherever the 
knife is used be careful to scrape the skin as clean 
as you can, without cutting it, for every adhering 
bit of fat, flesh, or membrane must be thoroughly 
removed before the skin is ready for tanning, and 
that is easier to do now than after it dries. The 
whole operation of skinning is much easier while 
the animal is still warm than after the body has 
become cold. To skin a frozen animal is a des- 
perately mean job. I have known four old hunters 
to work nearly a whole afternoon in skinning a 
frozen bear. 

The skin of the body and limbs having been re- 
moved, stretch it out flat, hair side down, along- 
side of you to receive portions of the meat as it is 

Gralloching. — Now take up your big knife, 
insert its point alongside the breastbone, and cut 
through the false ribs to the point of the sternum. 
In a young animal this is eas}-; but in an old one 
the ribs have ossified, and you must search for the 
soft points of union between the ribs and the ster- 
num, which are rather hard to find. Here your 
knife's temper, and perhaps your own, will be put 
to the test. The most trifling-looking pocket 
hatchet would do the trick in a jiffy. 

Open the abdominal cavity, taking care not to 
rupture anything, and prop the chest open a few 
inches with a stick, or by merely pulling the ribs 
away from each other. Cut the diaphragm free 


at both sides and at the back. (It ^'s the mem- 
brane that separates the organs of the :hest from 
those of the abdomen.) Everything now is free 
from the body except at the throat and anus. 
Reach in and take in your grasp all the vessels 
that run up into the neck. With knife in the other 
hand, cut them across from above downward, tak- 
ing care that you do not cut yourself. Now pull 
away gradually, helping a little here and there with 
the knife until all the contents of the visceral cav- 
ity lie at your feet, save the lower end of the rec- 
tum, which is still attached. With a hatchet, if 
you had one. you would now split the pelvis. The 
thing can be done with a large knife, if the animal 
is not too old, by finding the soft suture at the high- 
est part of the bone and rocking the knife-edge on 
it. But you may not be able to accomplish this 
just now. So reach in with the jack-knife, cut 
carefully around the rectum and urinary organs, 
keeping as close to the bone as possible, and free 
everything from the cavity. If water is near, wash 
out the cavity and let it drain, or wipe with a dry 
cloth if 5^ou have one. Be particular to leave no 
clotted blood. 

To remove the head ; flay back the skin for sev- 
eral inches at base of neck, cut through flesh, etc., 
to the backbone. Search along this till you find 
the flat joint between the faces of two vertebrae, 
separate these as far as you can ; then twist the at- 
tached part of the body round and round, until it 
breaks off. 

Directions how to skin a head for mounting are 
given in Volume II. 

In butchering, save the liver, heart, brain, milt 
(spleen), kidneys, and the caul fat. The caul is 
the fold of membrane loaded with fat that covers 
most of the intestines. In removing the liver you 
need not bother about a gall-bladder, for a deer 
has none. Many a tenderfoot has been tricked 
into looking for it. In the final cutting up, save 
the marrow-bones (especially of elk) for eating; 


the ligaments that lie on either side of the back- 
bone, from the head backward, for sinew thread i 
the hoofs for glue (if you are far from supply- 
stores and expect to remain a good w^hile) ; and 
perhaps the bladder, paunch, large intestine, and 
pericardium (outer skin) of the heart, for pouches 
and receptacles of various kinds, and to make cat- 
gut. The scrotum of a buck, tanned with the hair 
on, makes a good tobacco-pouch. 

Butchering on the Ground. — If one Is in a 
hurry, and Is not particular about the hide, he can 
do his butchering on the ground. In that case, 
lay the animal on sloping ground, with its head 
uphill ; or bend its back over a log or rock ; or turn 
It on Its back with its head twisted around and 
wedged under one side. The old-time way of 
butchering a buffalo was to turn the carcass on Its 
belly, stretching out the legs on either side to sup- 
port It. A transverse cut was made at the nape 
of the neck; then the workman, gathering the long 
hair of the hump in one hand, separated the skin 
from the shoulder, laid It open to the tail, along 
the spine, freed It from the sides, and pulled It 
down to the brisket. While the skin was thus 
still attached to the belly It was stretched upon 
the ground to receive the dissected meat. Then 
the shoulder was severed, and the fleece, which is 
the mixed fat and lean that lies along the loin and 
ribs, was removed from along the backbone, and 
the hump ribs were cut off with a tomahawk. 
These portions were placed on the skin, together 
with the boudins from the stomach, and the tongue. 
The rest of the meat was left to feed the wolves. 

Elk and Moose. — Such large animals are gen- 
erally butchered on the ground. If the beast has 
antlers, first remo^^e the head. Then turn the body 
on its back and prop it in position with a couple 
of three-foot stakes sharpened at both ends, a hole 
being dug for a moose's withers. Sometimes only 
the haunches, sirloins and tongue are saved, these 


being cut away without skinning or gutting the 

If there is a horse, or several men with a rope, 
to elevate the body, the animal's lower legs are 
skinned, the shanks removed, the hide split from 
throat ' o tail, the sides skinned free, the windpipe 
and p'jllet raised, the pleura and diaphragm cut 
loose and the carcass then raised high enough so 
that the hide can be removed from the rump and 
back. The rectum, small intestines, and paunch 
are then loosened and allowed to roll out on the 
ground. The gullet is cut, the liver taken out, 
and the diaphragm, lungs and heart removed. 
Then the skinning Is finished over the shoulders 
and fore legs. 

It is best not to cut up the meat until It Is quite 
cold and firm. Then split the carcass in halves 
along the backbone, and quarter it, leaving one rib 
on each hind quarter. The meat may then be put 
on a scaffold, and covered w^ith the skin to pro- 
tect it from moose-birds. 

Two men can raise a very heavy animal clear 
of the ground with three stiff poles, say twelve feet 
long, which are sharpened at the butts and notched 
at the tips. Lay these on the ground with notched 
ends together over the animal's hind quarters and 
the sharpened ends radiating outward and equi- 
distant from each other. Tie the notched ends 
rather loosely together with a short piece of rope, 
the other end of which Is tied to a gambrel thrust 
through the hind legs under the hamstrings (or 
attach to antlers, nose, or through lower jaw). 
Lift the tripod until the rope is taut, shove one 
pole forward a few Inches, then another, sticking 
the butts In the ground as you progress, until the 
hindquarters are raised, and so on until the beast 
swings free. 

Bears. — These beasts, too, are generally butch' 
ered on the ground. In skinning, begin the In- 
cisions at the feet, and leave at least the scalp, If 
not the skin of the whole head, attached. It I? 


quite a task to skin a bear, as the beast usually is 
covered with fat, which adheres to the hide and 
must be scraped free. All of the caul fat should 
be saved for rendering into bear's oil, which is 
better and wholesomer than lard. The brain, 
liver, and milt (spleen) are good eating. 

Owing to its greasiness, the skin of a bear is 
very likely to spoil unless carefully scraped, espe- 
cially at the ears. Slit the ears open on the inside, 
skin them back almost to the edge, and fill with 
salt; also salt the base of the ears. The feet like- 
wise must be skinned out and well salted. 

Preserving Skins. — If a hide is to be pre- 
served for some time in a green state, use nothing 
on it but salt. Spread it out flat, hair side down, 
stretch the legs, flanks, etc., and rub all parts 
thoroughly with salt, particular pains being taken 
to leave no little fold untreated. A moose-hide 
will take ten or even fifteen pounds of salt. As 
soon as the salting is done, fold in the legs and 
roll the hide up. 

Methods of tanning, and of making buckskin 
and rawhide, will be discussed in Volume II. 

Care of Meat. — When a deer has merely 
been eviscerated and is hung up to be skinned, and 
cut up at a more convenient season, prop open the 
abdomJnal cavity with a stick, so that it may dry 
out quickly. If the weather is warm enough at 
any hour of the day for flies to come out, keep a 
smudge going under the carcass.* It takes flies 
but a few minutes to raise Ned with venison. If 
blows are discovered on the meat, remove them, 
looking especially at all folds and nicks in the 
meat, and around the bones, for the blows work 
into such places very quickly. So long as they 
have not bored into the flesh they do it no harm, 

A surer way is described by Doctor Breck: 

* This means in ramp, where there is someone to look after 
it. Do not leave a smudge to take care of itself out in the 
woods: a wind springing up in your absence may cause it to 
set the forest afire. 


" It is my practice to carry with me three or four yard's 
of cheesecloth (which has been dipped in alum-water at 
home), and this I wrap closely round whatever parts of 
the animal I especially wish to preserve. If a round of 
venison is thus done up, preferably with a needle and 
thread, it is safe from fly-blows, which are the bane of 
hunters. If unskinned, a head may also be kept clean in 
like manner. The cheesecloth takes up little more room 
than a napkin, and amply repays the small bulge in the 
coat-pocket." — The Way of the Woods. 

I always carry cheesecloth on fishing trips, too. 

It may be said here that even smoked bacon is 
not immune from blows, and it should not be hung 
up without a cheesecloth cover. The fly that 
blows meats is the common '' blue-bottle." Its 
eggs hatch into " skippers" within twelve hours. 

Curing Venison. — Venison keeps a long time 
without curing, if the climate is cool and dry. 
To cure a deer's ham, hang it up by the shank, 
divide the muscles just above the hock, and insert 
a handful of dry salt. The meat of the deer tribe 
gets more tender and better flavored the longer it 
is hung up. In warm weather dust flour all over 
a haunch or saddle of venison, sew it up in a loose 
bag of cheesecloth, and hang it in a shady place 
where there is a current of air. It will keep sweet 
for several weeks, if there is no crevice in the bag 
through which insects can penetrate. Ordinarily 
it is best not to salt meat, for salt draws the juices. 
Bear meat, however, requires much salt to cure it — ■ 
more than any other game animal. 

Hornaday recommends the following recipe for 
curing venison : — 

The proportions of the mixture I use are: 

Salt 3 lbs. 

Allspice 4 table-spoonfuls. 

Black Pepper 5 table-spoonfuls, 

all thoroughly mixed. 

Take a ham of deer, elk, or mountain sheep, or fall- 
killed mountain goat, and as soon as possible after kill- 
ing, dissect the thigh, muscle by muscle. Any one can 
learn to do this by following up with the knife the natural 


divisions between the muscles. With big game like elk, 
some of the muscles of the thigh are so thick they require 
to be split in two. A piece of meat should not exceed 
five inches in thickness. Skin off all enveloping mem- 
branes, so that the curative powder will come in direct 
contact with the raw, moist flesh. The flesh must be suf- 
ficiently fresh and moist that the preservative will readily 
adhere to it. The best size for pieces of meat to be cured 
by this process is not over a foot long, by six or eight 
inches wide and four inches thick. 

When each piece has been neatly and skilfully prepared 
rub the powder upon every part of the surface, and let 
the mixture adhere as much as it will. Then hang up each 
piece of meat, by a string through a hole in the smaller 
end, and let it dry in the wind. If the sun is hot, keep 
the meat in the shade; but in the North the sun helps the 
process. Never let the meat get wet. If the weather is 
rainy for a long period, hang your meat rack where it 
will get heat from the campfire, but no more smoke than 
is unavoidable, and cover it ai night with a piece of can- 

Meat thus prepared is not at its best for eating until 
it is about a month old ; then slice it thin. After that 
no sportsman, or hunter, or trapper can get enough of 
it. . . . 

No; this is not "jerked" meat. It is many times better. 
It is always eaten uncooked, and as a concentrated, stimu- 
lating food for men in the wilds it is valuable. 

{Camp-fires in the Canadian Rockies, 201-203.) 

It is a curious fact that blow-Hies work close 
to the ground, and will seldom meddle with meat 
that is hung more than ten feet above the ground. 
Game or fish suspended at a height of twenty feet 
will be immune from " blows," if hung on a 
trimmed sapling well away from any foliage. 

Jerked Venison. — " jerky " or jerked meat 
has nothing to do with our common word " jerk." 
It is an anglicized form of the Spanish charqui, 
which is itself derived from the Quichua (Peru- 
vian) ccharqui, meaning flesh cut in flakes and 
dried without salt. It is the same as the African 
biltong. Those who have not investigated the 
matter may be surprised to learn that the round 
of beef is 61 per cent, water, and that even the 
common dried and smoked meat of the butchei 
shoos contains 54 per cent, water. To condense 


the nutritive properties of these substances, the 
water, of course, must be exhausted. In ordinary 
dried beef this Is onl)^ partially done, because the 
pieces are too thick. 

In the dry air of uninhabited plains, meat does 
not putrefy, even w^hen unsalted, and It may be 
dried In the sun, without fire. Elk flesh dried In 
the sun does not keep as well as that of deer. 

As I have said, real jerky has been dried with- 
out salt; but It Is common practice nowadays to 
use some salt In the process, proceeding as fol- 
lows : — 

If you can afford to be particular, select only the 
tender parts of the meat; otherwise use all of the 
lean. Cut it In strips about half an inch thick. 
If you have time, you may soak them a day In 
strong brine. If not, place the flakes of meat on 
the inside of the hide, and mix with them about a 
pint and a half of salt for a w^hole deer, or two or 
three quarts for an elk or moose; also some pep- 
per. These condiments are not necessary, but are 
added merely for seasoning. Cover the meat with 
the hide, to keep flies out, and let It stand thus for 
about two hours to let the salt work In. Then 
drive four forked stakes In the ground so as to 
form a square, the forks being about four feet 
from the ground. Lay two poles across from 
fork to fork, parallel, and across these lay thin 
poles about two Inches apart. Lay the strips of 
meat across the poles, and under them build a small 
fire to dry and smoke the meat. Do not let the 
fire get hot enough to cook the meat, but only to 
dehydrate it, so that the flesh becomes dry as a 
chip. The best fuel Is birch, especially black birch, 
because It imparts a pleasant flavor. Only a thin 
smoke is wanted. To confine It, if a breeze Is 
stirring, put up some sort of wind-break. This 
will reduce the weight of the meat about one-half, 
and will cure It so that It will keep indefinitel}^ 
You may have to keep up the fire for twenty-foui 
hnurs. The meat of an old bull will, of course, 


be as tough as sole leather; but, in any case, it 
will retain its flavor and sustenance. When 
pounded pretty fine, jerky makes excellent soup; 
but it is good enough as it is, and a man can live 
on it exclusively without suffering an inordinate 
craving for bread. 

^ The breasts (only) of grouse and other game 

birds can be cured in the same way, and are good. 

Some do not like their meat smoked. A way 

of jerking without smoking was described by " an 

old-timer" for the New York Sun: 

" Cut the choicest of the meat into strips ten Inches long 
and two inches square. Sprinkle them quite liberally with 
salt, but not enough to make them bitter. Let the salt work 
on them for a couple of hours. While it is doing it you go 
and put down two logs a foot or so in diameter side by 
side and about the same distance apart. Between the 
logs make a fire of dry hemlock bark. 

" Hemlock, or a relative of hemlock, is always apt to 
be found in deer hunting regions, and I never go into 
camp without taking pains to gather up a lot of hemlock 
bark for use. It is the best material for the purpose be- 
cause it will make a fire of hot coals without running to 
blaze or smoke. Birch bark would be ideal for the purpose, 
but it is all blaze with birch bark. Hickory wood couldn't 
be beat for jerking venison, but hickory wood would smoke 
the meat, and jerked venison isn't smoked venison, as a 
good many folks suppose it is, not by a long shot. 

" Having got your bed of hemlock bark coais in fine 
shape, and having driven at the inside edge of the ends 
of each log a crotched stick long enough after it is securely 
driven to have the crotch perhaps a foot above the logs, 
and having extended from crotch to crotch in these sticks 
two poles that are thus suspended above the fire, cut as 
many half inch hardwood sticks as you need, long enough 
to reach across from one pole to another and rest securely 
on them. On these sticks string your strips of deer meat 
by thrusting them through the meat near one end of the 
strips, the sticks being sharpened at one end to facilitate 
that operation. 

" This will leave the strips hanging from their sticks 
much as the candles used to hang from theirs in the old 
fashioned moulds, if any hunter of this generation is happy 
enough to have recollections of the days when we made 
our own candles. Place the sticks with their pendent meat 
over the coals. Turn the concave sides of lengths of hem- 
lock bark over the top of the sticks. This will keep in the 


steam that will presently begin to rise from the meat, as 
the coals get their gradual but effective work in on it. 
Keep the fire down there between the logs so it won't make 
too rapid a heat, for if it does the juice will ooze out of 
the meat and be lost, and that wou'd detract from the 
excellence of the finished product. 

" If during the process of jerking your venison the meat 
is taken off the coals before it is done it will be soft and 
flabby. If it is hard when taken off it will be overdone. 
In either case your jerked venison might much better have 
remained unjerked, for it will be a failure. To prevent 
either of these catastrophes the meat should be tested fre- 
quently by pushing a sharp knife blade or other convenient 
probe into and through the strips. The moment it requires 
more than ordinary force to push the probe through, your 
venison is thoroughly and properly jerked. Then shove 
the coals from under the strips and let them cool with the 
dying embers." 

Computing Weight. — Hornaday gives the 
following rule, in his Natural History, for com- 
puting the live weight of deer from the dressed 
weight: Add five ciphers to the dressed weight 
in pounds, and divide by 78,612; the quotient will 
be the live weight in pounds. 

Small Mammals. — Now for what Shake- 
speare calls " small deer." The easiest way for a 
novice to skin a squirrel is the one described by 
" Nessmuk." — 

"Chop off head, tail, and feet with the hatchet; 
cut the skin on the back crosswise, and, inserting 
the two middle fingers, pull the skin off in two 
parts (head and tail). Clean and cut the squir- 
rel in halves, leaving two ribs on the hind quar- 
ters." The objection is that, in this case, you 
throw away the best part of the squirrel, the cheek 
meat and brain being its special tid-bits. 

A better way is this: Sever the tail from be- 
low, holding your left forefinger close in behind 
it, and cutting through the vertebrae close up to the 
body, leaving only the hide on the top side. Then 
turn the squirrel over and cut a slit down along 
each ham. Put your foot on the tail, hold the 
rear end of the squirrel in your hand, and pull, 
stripping the skin off to the fore legs. Peel the 


skin from the hind legs, and cut off the feet, l^.en 
cut off the fore feet. Skin to the neck; assist here 
a little with the knife; then skin to the ears; cut 
off the butts of the ears; then skin till the blue o^ 
the eyeballs shows, and cut; then to the nose till 
the teeth show, and cut It off. Thus you get no 
hair on the meat, and the w^hole thing is done in 
less than a minute, when you have gained deftness. 

In dressing mammals larger than squirrels be 
particular to remove the scent glands. Even rab- 
bits have them. Cut directly between the fore leg 
and body and you will find a small waxy " kernel " 
which is a gland. The degree to which this 
taints the flesh depends a good deal on the season; 
but in most of the fur-bearers it is always ob- 

Dan Beard gives the following directions for 
dressing small animals : 

" To prepare a musquash or any other small fur-bearing 
animal for the table, first make a skinning stick of a forked 
stick about as thick as your finger. Let the forks be about 
one inch to each branch, and the stick below long enough 
to reach up between your knees when the sharpened lower 
end is forced into the ground. If you squat on the ground 
the stick should be about a foot and one-half long, but 
longer if you sit on a camp stool, stump or stone. Hang the 
muskrat on the forks of the stick by thrusting the sharp- 
ened ends of the fork through the thin spot at the gambrel 
joints of the hind legs, that is, the parts which coriespond 
with your own heels. Hung in this manner (with the one 
and one-half foot stick), the nose of the animal will just 
clear the ground. First skin the game, then remove all the 
internal organs, and, if it be a muskrat, not only remove 
all the musk glands, but cut into the inside of the forearms 
and the fleshy part of the thighs, and take out a little white 
substance you will find there which resembles a nerve. 
This done and the meat well washed, it may be cooked 
with little fear of the food retaining a musky llavor." 
— {Field and Forest Handy Book.) 

To skin a 'coon: begin with the point of the 
knife in the center of one hind foot and slit up 
the inside of the leg to the vent and dou'n the 
other leg in a like manner. Cut carefully around 
the vent, then rip from it up to the chin. Strip 


the skin from the bone of the tail with a split stick 
gripped firmly in the hand. Then flay the ani- 
mal, scrape the pelt clean, and put it on a stretcher 
to dry. 

Dressing Birds. — Turkeys, geese, ducks, and 
grouse are usually dry picked. If this could be 
done while the bodies were still warm, it would 
be no job at all; but after they are cold it generally 
results in a good deal of laceration of the skin — 
so much so that sometimes the disgusted operator 
gives up and skins the whole bird. It would be 
better to scald them first, like chickens. In dry 
picking, hang the bird up by one leg, pluck first 
the pinions and tail feathers; then the small 
feathers from shanks and inside of thighs; then 
the others. Grasp only a few feathers at a time 
between finger and thumb, as close to the skin as 
possible, and pull quickly toward the head. Then. 
pick cut all pin-feathers and quills. Singe the 
down off quickly, so as not to give an oily appear- 
ance to the skin. Ordinarily the down can be re- 
moved from a duck's breast by grasping the bird 
by the neck and giving one sweep of the open hand 
down one side of the body and then one down the 
other. In plucking geese or ducks some use finely 
powdered res'n to remove the pin-feathers. The 
bird is plucked dry, then rubbed all over with the 
resin, dipped in and out of boiling water seven or 
eight times, and then the pin-feathers and down 
are easily rubbed off. 

To draw a bird: cut off the head, and the legs 
at the first joint. Make a lengthwise slit on back 
at base of neck and sever neck bone close to body, 
also the membrane which holds the windpipe- 
Make a lengthwise incision from breastbone tc 
(and around) the vent, so you can easily draw 
the insides, which must be done carefully, so as 
not to rupture the gall-bladder (pheasants have 

The idea that ducks and other game birds should 
hang until they smell badly is monstrous. If you 


want to know where such tastes originated, read the 
annals of medieval sieges. 

Small game birds, such as snipe and plover, can 
be cleaned very quickly by pressing a thumb on 
each side of their breasts, and, with a swift push, 
break the skin back, carrying feathers, backbone 
and entrails with it, and leaving only the breast. 
Grouse can be treated in the same way if the skin 
of the breast is first slit. The legs and rump, if 
wanted, can be removed separately. 

Keeping Small Game. — To ship rabbits, 
squirrels, etc. : do not skin them, but remove the 
entrails, wipe the insides perfectly dry, wrap m 
paper, and pack them back dc^^'n. 

Never pack birds in straw or grass without ice, 
for in damp or warm weather this will heat or 
sweat them. If they freeze they must be kept so, as 
they will quickly spoil after thawing. Food in a 
bird's crop soon sours; the crop should be removed. 
j To preserve birds in warm weather for ship- 

ment: draw them, wash the inside perfectly clean, 
dry thoroughly, and then take pieces of charcoal 
from the fireplace, wrap them in a thin rag, and 
fill the abdominal cavity with this. Also fill the 
bill, ears, eyes, and anal opening with powdered 
charcoal, to keep off flies and prevent putrefac- 
tion. Reject all pieces of charcoal that are only 
half-burnt or have the odor of creosote. Birds 
stuffed in this way will keep sweet for a week in 
hot weather. 

Cleaning Trout. — Brook trout have no no- 
:iceable scales, but they should be scraped free of 
ilime. Rainbow trout need scaling. 

Remove the vent, cut the gills free from the 
lower jaw and back of head, and slit open f^om 
iiead to anal fin. Draw the inside out by the 
gills, and scrape the clotted blood away fio.n the 
backbone. If the fish are only for the pan, not to 
be exhibited, cut the heads off; then they are easier 
to clean. Large ones, anyway^ should have heads 
and tails cut off before fryingj^ 


A small trout may be cleaned without splitting, 
by cutting out the vent, tearing out the gills with 
the fingers, and drawing the entrails with them. 

Cleaning Scaly Fish. — To scale a fish: grasp 
it by the head (or lay it on a board and drive a 
fork through its tail), and, using a knife that is 
not over-keen, scale first one side and then the 
other, with swift, steady sweeps. The scales be- 
low the gills, and those near the fins, are removed 
by moving the point of the knife crosswise to 
the fish's length. Next place the knife just below 
the belly fin and with a slant stroke cut ofE 
this, the side fins, and the head, all in one piece. 
Then remove the back fin, and the spines beneath 
it, by making a deep incision on each side of the 
fin and pulling the latter out. The ventral part 
is removed in the same way. Open the fish, wash 
it in cold water, scrape off the slime, and then wipe 
it dry with a clean cloth or towel. Large fish, for 
broiling, should be split open along the back and 
the spine removed. 

A special fish knife, with saw-tooth back for 
scaling, can be bought at a sporting-goods store. 
A good scaler is extemporized by nailing a com- 
mon bottle cap on the flattened end of a stick. 

A slippery, flabby fish is more easily handled for 
scaling if you sharpen one end of a stick as thick 
as your little finger and run it down through the 
fish's mouth about two-thirds the length of the 

Fish taken from muddy or mossy water, or from 
cedar swamps, taste strong if cleaned in the ordi- 
nary way, unless special precautions are taken in 
cooking (see Chapter XVIII). The taint is not 
removed by scaling, for its cause is hidden deep in. 
the roots of the scales. Such fish should be skinned. 
That is also the best way to prepare yellow perch. 

Skinning Fish. — Grasp the fish firmly, belly 
down. Cut across the nape of the neck, run the 
Domt of the knife along the back to the tail, and 


on each side of the back fin. Remove the fin by 
catching lower end between thumb and knife blade 
and pulling smartly upward toward the head. 
Skin each side by seizing between thumb and knife 
the flap of skin at nape and jerking outward and 
downward; then the rest, by grasping skin as near 
the vent as possible and tearing quickly down to 
the tail, bring away the anal fin. Remove the 
head and the entrails will come with it. Trout 
and pickerel should be scraped free of slime. 

Large fish for frying are best steaked. Robert 
Pinkerton gives the following directions: 

" Cut off the head, run the knife down either side of the 
oones of the back the entire length. Cut down to the back- 
bone and continue along the ribs. This gives you two slabs 
of boneless meat and leaves the entrails in the skeleton. 
Lay the pieces, skin side down, on a paddle blade and run 
a sharp knife between the flesh and skin. You now have 
Joneless, scaleless, skinless fish, which may be rolled in 
flour or cornmeal, fried in bacon grease, and eaten with as 
little difficulty as though it were moose steak." 

To skin a catfish or bullhead, do not scald it, 
for that makes the meat flabby and robs it of its 
fresh flavor. Cut off the ends of the spines, slit 
the skin behind and around the head, and then 
from this point along the back to the tail, cutting 
around the back fin. Then peel the two corners 
of the skin well down, sever the backbone, and, 
holding to the corners of the skin with one hand, 
pull the fish's body free from the skin with the 
other. A pair of pliers will be appreciated here. 

Or, cut through the skin clear around the neck 
near the gills. Stick a large table fork into the 
gills and pin the fish to a board by its backbone. 
Then catch the skin at neck between thumb and 
knife-blade, and .strip it off by a steady pull. 

To skin an eel: drive a fork through the back 
of his neck (if you have no fork, roll him in ashes 
or dust and use a swab in the left hand), slit the 
skin around his neck with a sharp knife, make a 


longitudinal slit half the length of the body, peel 
the skin back at the neck until you get a good hold, 
and then strip it off. 

Another way is to rub the tail under your foot 
until the skin splits, or nail the eel up by the tail, 
cut through the skin around the body just for- 
ward of the tail and work its edges loose, then 
draw the skin off over the head ; this takes out 
all of the fin bones, and strips off the skin entire. 

To Keep Fish. — It is very bad practice to 
string fish together through the gills and keep 
them in water till you start for home. It makes 
them lose blood and torments them till they die 
of suffocation. Why sicken your fish before you 
eat them? If you must use a stringer, push its 
point through the fish's lower jaw. Then it can 
breathe freely. A single fish on a good length of 
line, strung in this way, can fight off turtles till 
you notice the commotion. 

If you are not fishing from a boat, with live 
box or net, then by all means kill your fish as 
fast as you catch them. Some do this by giving 
the thing's head a quick jerk backward, breaking 
its neck ; others hit it a smart rap on the back of 
the head with the handle of a sheath-knife (many 
English fishermen carry a " priest," which is a 
miniature bludgeon, for this very purpose). It is 
better to break the fish's throat-latch (the cord 
that joins head to body on the under side), because 
that not only kills the fish but bleeds it, and one's 
finger does thr. trick in a second. 

The reason for killing fish at once is two-fold ; 
first, it is humane ; second, it keeps the meat firm, 
as it should be for the pan, and it will not spoil 
so soon as if the fish smothered to death. 

Fish spoil from exposure to sun and moisture, 
especially the latter. They keep much better if 
wiped dry before carrying away. Never use fish 
that have been lying in the sun or that have begun 
to soften. Ptomaines work in a mysterious but 
effectual way. 


To keep fish in camp: scale, behead, and clean 
them ; then string them by a cord through their 
tails and hang them, head down, in a shady, breezy 
place. They drain well when hung in this way, 
and that is important. 

If you stay long in one place, it will pay to sink 
a covered box in the sloping bank of a stream, tq 
keep your fish in. Such a bank is always cool, 
Hang the fish up separately in the box with rod? 
or cords. If you lack a box, make a rock-lined 
cache, covered with flat stones tu keep out mini; 
and other robbers. 

Trout may be kept bright, with their spots show^ 
ing lively, for many hours, if each is w^iped and 
wrapped separately in some absorbent paper, such 
as toilet paper, as soon as caught. 

To keep fish that must be carried some distance, 
in hot weather: clean them as soon as you can after 
they are caught, and zuipe them dry. Then rub 
a little salt along their backbones, but nowhere 
else, for salt draws the juices. Do not pile them 
touching each other, but between layers of paper, 
cheesecloth, basswood leaves, or ferns. 

If you are to pack fish in ice, the best way is to 
have with you some parchment paper (any mail- 
order house) to keep them from direct contact with 
the ice. This paper is strong and waterproof. 
Everybody ought to know that when fish get wet 
from ice the best of their flavor is stolen. For 
the same reason it is bad practice to carry fish in 
damp moss or grass. Keep them dry, whether 3^uu 
have ice or not. 

There is a very good thing called a refrigerator 
grip, to be bought of dealers in sporting goods. 
Outside it looks like a common handbag. Within 
are two metal compartments. The upper section 
is filled with cracked ice and the cover is screwed 
on. The lower one contains food and drink for 
an outing, and holds your fish on the trip home. 
It is surrounded by a metal shell into which the 


water drips as the ice melts. No ice or water 
comes in contact with what you carry. 

If you have no ice, and yet wish to transport 
your catch a considerable distance, try the follow- 
ing method recommended a good many years ago 
by Colonel Park (he says It is also a good way to 
pack venison). Some of my correspondents have 
enthusiastically given me credit for inventing it, 
but I got it out of a little Sportsmen s Handbook 
by the above-named gentleman, printed, as I re- 
member, In Cincinnati, of which I have seen but 
one copy. For brevity's sake, I paraphrase the 
description. — 

Kill the fish as soon as caught; wipe them clean and dry; 
remove the entrails; scrape the blood off from around the 
backbone; remove the gills and eyes; wipe dry again; 
split the fish through the backbone to the skin, from the 
inside; fill this split with salt; spread the fish overnight 
on a board or log to cool. In the morning, before sun- 
rise, fold the fish in dry towels, so that there is a fold of 
towel between each fish and its neighbor; carefully wrap 
the whole package in a piece of muslin, and sew it up into 
a tight bag, and then in woolen blanketing, sewing up the 
ends and sides. Now put the roll in a stout paper bag, 
such as a flour sack. " Fish prepared in this way can be 
sent from Maine to New Orleans in August, and will re- 
main fresh and nice." 

Sugar, as It has antiseptic qualities, is a good 
preservative. Doctor O. M. Clay gives the fol- 
lowing process for keeping trout a week or two: 

"Clean well; remove heads; wash thoroughly; dry with 
cloth. Cook a syrup of sugar and water until it begins to 
candy. In this dip the fish, one at a time, and lay them on 
a board to glaze. Pack in a box. Before using, soak over- 
night in cold water." 

To dry fish for future use: split them along the 
back, remove the backbones and entrails, and soak 
them in a weak brine overnight. Make a conical 
teepee of cloth or bark, suspend the fish in it, and 
dry and smoke them over a small fire for a couple 
of days. This Is tedious, as the fire requires close 


attention; but it pays when many fish are to be 

To salt fish: dress them as above, wash clean, 
and roll in salt. " Place them in a wooden vessel 
in a cool place for several days; then turn them 
out and let the brine drain off. Clean the vessel 
and put the fish back. Cover them with brine 
made strong enough to carry an egg or potato. 
Trout preserved in this way are excellent." (E. 
Kreps, Camp and Trail Methods.) 

The following method of preserving fish is 
quoted from Outdoor Life: 

" Put two handfuls of salt in two or three quarts of 
water. Let it come to a boil. Then put fish on a piece 
of cheesecloth or other white cloth so as to be able to 
handle them, and dip them in this water, allowing them 
to remain in it five to seven minutes, according to size of 
fish. Water should not boil after the fish are put in. Then 
put them in vinegar, allspice, cloves and bay leaves — us- 
ing enough vinegar to submerge the fish. Leave them in 
this solution until used. We believe you will find fish pre- 
served in this way the sweetest-tasting that you ever ate." 



The main secrets of good meals in camp are 
to have a proper fire, good materials, and then to 
imprison in each dish, at the outset, its natural 
juice and characteristic flavor. To season fresh 
camp dishes as a French chef would is a blunder 
of the first magnitude. The raw materials used 
in city cuisine are often of inferior quality, from 
keeping in cold storage or with chemical preserva- 
tives ; so their insipidity must be corrected by spices, 
herbs, and sauces to make them eatable. In cheap 
restaurants and boarding houses, where the chef's 
skill is lacking, " all things taste alike " from hav- 
ing been penned up together in a refrigerator and 
cooked in a fetid atmosphere. 

In my chapter on Provisions I advised that a 
few condiments be taken along, but these are 
mostly for seasoning left-overs or for desserts — 
not for fresh meat, unless we have but one kind, 
to the surfeiting point. In the woods our fish is 
freshly caught, our game has hung out of doors, 
and the water and air used in cooking (most im- 
portant factors) are sweet and pure. Such viands 
need no masking. The only seasoning required 
is with pepper and salt, to be used sparingly, and 
not added (except in soups and stews) until the 
dish is nearly or quite done. Remember this: salt 
draws the juices. 

The juices of meats and fish are their most 
palatable and nutritious ingredients. We extract 
them purposely In making soups, stews, and gravies^ 


MEATS 291 

but in so doing we ruin the meat itself. Any fisK, 
flesh, or fowl that is fit to be eaten for the good 
meat's sake should be cooked succulent, by first 
coagulating the outside (searing in a bright flame 
or in a very hot pan, or plunging into smoking hot 
grease or furiously boiling water) and then remov- 
ing farther from the fire to cook gradually till 
done. The first process, which is quickly per- 
formed, is ** the surprise." It sets the juices, and, 
in the case of frying, seals the fish or meat in a 
grease-proof envelope so that it will not become 
sodden but will dr}^ crisp when drained. The 
horrors of the frying-pan that has been unskillfully 
wielded are too well known. Let us campers, to 
whom the frying-pan is an almost indispensable 
utensil, set a good example to our grease-afilicted 
country by using it according to the code of health 
and epicurean taste. 

Meat, game, and fish may be fried, broiled, 
roasted, baked, boiled, stewed, or steamed. Frying 
and broiling are the quickest processes; roasting, 
baking, and boiling take an hour or two; a stew 
of meat and vegetables, to be good, takes half a 
day, and so does soup prepared from the raw ma- 
terials. Tough meat should be boiled or braised 
in a pot. 

Do not eat freshly killed meat if you can help it. 
Game should hang at least two days; otherwise it 
will be tough and tasteless. Venison eaten before 
it has completely cooled through will cause diar- 
rhoea and perhaps nausea. 

Frying. — Do not try to fry over a flaming fire 
or a deep bed of coals ; the grease would likely burn 
and catch aflame. Rake a thin layer of coals out 
in front of the fire; or, for a quick meal, make your 
fire of small dry sticks, no thicker than your finger, 
boil water for your coffee over the flame, and then 
fry over the quickly formed coals. 

If you have a deep pan and plenty of frying 
fat, it is much the best to immerse the material 
completely in boiling grease, as doughnuts are fried. 


Let the fat boil until little jets of smoke arise 
(being careful not to burn the grease). When 
fat begins to smoke continuously it is decomposing 
and will impart an acrid taste. When a bread 
crumb dropped in will be crisp when taken out, the 
fat is of the right temperature. Then quickly drop 
in small pieces of the material, one at a time so as 
not to check the heat. Turn them once while 
cooking. Remove when done, and drop them a 
moment on coarse paper to absorb surplus grease, 
or hang them over a row of small sticks so they can 
drain. Then season. The fry will be crisp, and 
dry enough to handle without soiling the fingers. 
This is the way for small fish. 

Travelers must generally get along with shallow 
pans and little grease. To fry (or, properly, to 
saute) in this manner, without getting the article 
sodden and unfit for the stomach, heat the dry pan 
very hot, and then grease it only enough to keep 
the meat from sticking (fat meat needs none). 
The material must be dry when put in the pan 
(wipe fish with a towel) or it will absorb grease. 
Cook quickly and turn frequently, not jabbing with 
a fork for that would let juice escape. Season 
when done, and serve piping hot. 

Lard used for frying fish must not be used again 
for anything but fish. Crisco does not transmit 
the flavor of one food to another. Surplus fat can 
be kept in a baking powder can, sealed, for transit, 
with surgeon's plaster. 

Chops, fat meats, squirrels, rabbits, and the 
smaller game birds are best sauted or fricasseed and 
served with gravy. A fricassee is made of meat or 
birds cut into small pieces, fried or stewed, and 
served with gravy. Sausage should be fried over 
a very gentle fire. 

Bear meat is best braised (see under that head- 
ing) ; if to be fried, it should first be soaked for 
an hour in a solution of one tablespoon baking soda 
to a quart of water, then parboiled until tender, 

Broii ^ng. — Fresh jnct that is tender enougl) to 

MEATS 293 

escape the boiling pot or the braising oven should 
either be broiled or roasted before a bed of clear, 
hard coals. Both of these processes preserve the 
characteristic flavor of the meat and add that 
piquant, aromatic-bitter " taste of the fir^^'. " which 
no pan nor oven can impart. Broil when you are 
in a hurry, but when you have leisure for a good 
job, roast your meat, basting it frequently with 
drippings from the pan below, so as to keep the 
surface moist and flexible and insure that precise 
degree of browning which delights a gourmet. 

For broiling, cut the meat at least an inch thick. 
Only tender pieces are fit for broiling. Venison 
usually requires some pounding, but don't gash it 
in doing so. Have a bed of bright coals free from 
smoke, with clear flaming fire to one side. Sear 
outside of meat by thrusting for a moment in the 
flame and turning; then broil before the fire, 
rather than over it, so as to catch drippings in a 
pan underneath. Do not season until done, or, if 
you do salt It, observe the rule for chops, given 
below. A steak i inch thick should be broiled five 
minutes, i^ inches ten minutes, 2 inches twenty 
minutes. Serve on hot dish with drippings poured 
over, or buttered. 

To broil on a forked, green stick, tie the split- 
open bird, or whatever it be, to the fork with hem- 
lock rootlets or others that do not burn easily. 

To broil enough for a party, when you have no 
broiler, clean the frying-pan thoroughly and get 
it almost red hot, so as to seal pores of meat in- 
stantly. Cover pan. Turn meat often, without 
stabbing. A large venison steak will be done in 
ten minutes. Put on hot dish, season with pep- 
per and salt, and pour juices over it. Equal to 
meat broiled on a gridiron, and saves the juices. 
To broil by completely covering the slice of meat 
with hot ashes and embers is a very good way. 

To grill on a rock, take two large flat stones of 
a kind that do not burst from heat (not moist or 
seamy ones)* wipe them clean of grit, place them 


one above the other, with a few pebbles between 
to keep them apart, and build a fire around them. 
When they are well heated, sweep away the ashes, 
and place your slices of meat between the stones. 

Before broiling fish on an iron they should be 
buttered and floured to prevent sticking; or, grease 
the broiler. 

There is no chop like an English mutton chop. 
It should be cut thick. How to cook it is told by 
an English camper, Mr. T. H. Holding, in his 
Campers Handbook: 

" First let the pan get warm, then rub with a piece 
of the fat from the meat. As this fat warms and mehs 
on the bottom, put in the chop and sHghtly increase your 
flame [he is assuming that you cook on a Primus stove], 
and let it cook rapidly. Put a very free sprinkling of salt 
on the top of the chop. I will explain this. The salt that 
is so distributed melts, and runs into the pores of the meat 
and gets through it. As the heat forces up the blood, so 
the salt in melting trickles down till it fills the chop, so to 
say. Directly the latter begins to look red on the top, turn 
it over smartly and cleanly. Now the heat will drive back 
the blood to meet the fresh supply of salt that is put on 
the * new ' side. Cook it gently, moving it at intervals. 
Presently this salt will disappear, and in its place blood will 
begin to make its appearance and show the chop is cooked. 

" Now, the hungry one who knows how to enjoy a chop, 
will be delighted with one thus cooked. It will be tender, 
tasty, and soft, if the meat is good. A chop should not be 
cooked till it is pale inside; if it loses its redness it loses 
its character and its flavor. 

" The fat of a chop should not be cut off, unless there is 
too much of it. It will pay to cook it and so help to make 
gravy, into which a piece of bread or slices of potato may 
be put and fried. . . . 

" If a couple of potatoes be peeled and washed, cut in 
slices not more than an eighth-of-an-inch in thickness, put 
in the pan around the chop, and the whole covered over 
with a plate, they will be cooked by the time the chop is 
done. I am free to say from experience that never do 
potatoes taste so sweet as when cooked under these condi- 
tions. . . . But to cut these potatoes thick is to foil the 
object, because they have not time then to cook through." 

Chops of mountain sheep and other game may 
be cooked in the same way. 

Roasting. — I'o roast is to cook by the direcr 

MEATS 295 

heat of the fire, as on a spit or before a high bed 
of coals. Baking is performed in an oven, pit, or 
closed vessel. No kitchen range can compete with 
an open fire for roasting. 

Build a rather large fire of split hardwood (sott- 
woods are useless) against a high backlog or wall 
of rocks which will reflect the heat forward. 
Sear the outside of the roast (not a bird or fish) 
in clear flames until outer layer of albumen is 
coagulated. Then skewer thin slices of pork to 
upper end; hang roast before fire and close to it 
by a stout wet cord; turn frequently; catch drip- 
pings in pan or green-bark trough, and baste with 
them. This is better than roasting on a spit over 
the fire, because the heat can be better regulated, 
the meat turned and held in position more easily, 
the roast is not smoked, and the drippings are 

utilized. • 1 • 

Just before the meat is done, baste it and sprin- 
kle with flour, then brown it near the fire, and 
make gravy as directed on page 303. 

A whole side of venison can be roasted by plant- 
ing two stout forked stakes before the fire, a stub 
of each stake being thrust through a slit cut be- 
tween the ribs and under the backbone. The for- 
ward part of the saddle is the best roasting piece. 
Trim off flankv parts and ends of ribs, and split 
backbone lengthwise so that the whole will hang 
flat. To roast a shoulder, peel it from the side, 
cut off leg at knee, gash thickest part of flesh, press 
bits of pork into them, and skewer some slices to 

upper part. 

When roasting a large joint, a turkey, or any- 
thing else that will require more than an hour of 
steady heat, do not depend upon adding wood from 
time to time, unless you have a good supply of 
sound, dry hardwood sticks of stove-wood size. If 
green 'wood or large sticks muct be used, build a 
bonfire of them at one side of your cooking-fire, 
and shovel coals from it as required. It will not 
do to check the cooking-fire. 


Kabobs. — When in a hurry, cut a i^ or 2 inch 
portion from the saddle or other tender part, break 
up the fiber by pounding, unless the animal was 
young, and divide the meat into several small frag- 
ments. Impale one of these on a sharpened stick, 
salt and pepper it, plunge it for a moment into a 
clear bright flame, then toast it slow^ly over the 
embers. Salt, in this case, is glazed on the sur- 
face and cannot draw the juice. While eating one 
bit, toast another. 

Roasting in the Reflector. — Pin thin slices of 
pork or bacon over the roast. Put a little water 
in the bake-pan, lay the meat in, and set the baker 
before the fire. Baste occasionally. When the 
front is done, reverse the pan. Make gravy from 
the drippings. 

Barbecueing. — To barbecue is to roast an ani- 
mal whole, and baste it frequently with a special 
dressing, for which the following recipe is bor- 
rowed from Frank Bates: 

" One pint of vinegar, half a can of tomatoes, two tea- 
spoonfuls of red pepper (chopped pepper-pods are bet- 
ter), a teaspoonful of black pepper, same of salt, two 
tablespoonfuls of butter. Simmer together till it is com- 
pletely amalgamated. Have a bit of clean cloth or sponge 
tied on the end of a stick, and keep the meat well basted 
with the dressing as long as it is on the fire." 

Dig a pit somewhat longer and wider than the 
spread-out carcass of the animal. Build a log fire 
in it of hardwood. When this has burned to coals, 
place a green log at each end of the pit and one on 
each side of it, near the edges. Over the side logs 
lay green poles to support the meat, thick enough 
not to burn through (when it can be procured, a 
sheet of wire netting is laid over this frame). 
Tough meat is previously parboiled in large pots. 

Braising. — Tough meat is improved by brais- 
ing in a Dutch oven, or a covered pot or saucepan. 
This process lies between baking and frying. It is 
pre-eminently the way to cook bear meat, venison 
shoulders and rounds. Put the meat in the oven or 

MEATS 297 

pot with about two inches of hot water in the bot- 
tom, and a bit of bacon or pork (but not for bear). 
Add some chopped onion, if desired, for seasoning. 
Cover and cook about fifteen minutes to the pound. 
A half hour before the meat is done, season it with 
salt and pepper. 

The gravy is made by pouring the grease from 
the pot, adding a little water and salt, and rubbing 
flour into it gradually with a spoon. 

Baking Meat. — Baking in a Hole. — This is a 
modification of braising. Dig a hole in the ground, 
say 18x18x12 inches. Place kindling in it, and 
over the hole build a cob house by laying split hard- 
wood sticks across, not touching each other, then 
another course over these and at right angles to 
them, and so on till you have a stack tw^o feet high. 
Set fire to it. The air will circulate freely, and 
the sticks, if of uniform size, will all burn down 
to coals together. 

Cut the fowlj Or whatever it is, in pieces, sea- 
son, add a chunk of fat pork the size of your fist, 
put in the kettle, pour in enough water to cover, 
put lid on kettle, rake coals out of hole, put kettle 
in, shovel coals around and over it, cover all with 
a few inches of earth, and let it alone over night. 
It beats a bake-oven. In case of rain, cover with 

Experiment with this two or three times before 
you risk much on it; for the right heat and the 
time required can only be learned by experience. 

Grouse and the like can be cooked nicely by put- 
ting one in the bean-pot when baking beans. 

Baking an Animal in Its Hide. — If the beast is 
too large to bake entire, cut off what you want 
and sew it up in a piece of the hide. In this case 
it is best to have the hole lined with flat stones. 
Rake out embers, put meat in, cover first with green 
grass or leaves, then with the hot coals and ashes, 
and build a fire on top. When done, remove the 

A deer's head Is placed in the pit, ntck down, 


and baked in the same way: time about six hours. 

Baking in Clay. — This hermetically seals the 
meat while cooking, and is better than baking in 
a kettle, but requires experience. Draw the ani- 
mal, but leave the skin and hair on. If it be a 
large bird, as a duck or goose, cut off head and 
most of neck, also feet and pinions, pull out tail 
feathers and cut tail off (to get rid of oil sac), 
but leave smaller feathers on. If a fish, do not 
scale. Moisten and work some clay till it is like 
softened putty. Roll it out in a sheet an inch 
thick and large enough to completely encase the 
animal. Cover the latter so that no feather or hair 
projects. Place in fire and cover with good bed 
of coals and let it remain with fire burning on top 
from y^. of an hour, for a small bird or medium 
trout, to two hours for a pheasant or duck. Larger 
animals require more time, and had best be placed 
in bake-hole over night. 

When done, break open the hard casing of baked 
clay. The skin peels off with it, leaving the meat 
perfectly clean and baked to perfection in its own 
juices. This method has been practiced for ages 
by the gipsies and other primitive peoples. 

Frank Bates recommends another way: "Have 
a pail of water in which stir clay until it is of the 
consistency of thick porridge or whitewash. Take 
the bird by the feet and dip into the water. The 
clay will gather on and between the feathers. Re- 
peat till the bird is a mass of clay. Lay this in 
the ashes, being careful to dry the outside. . . . 
Bake till the clay is almost burned to a brick." 

Baking in the Embers. — To bake a fish, clean 
it — if it is large enough to be emptied through a 
hole in the neck, do not slit the belly — season with 
salt and pepper, and, if liked, stuff with Indian 
meal. Have ready a good bed of glowing hard- 
wood coals ; cover it with a thin layer of ashes, that 
the fish may not be burnt. Lay the fish on this, 
and cover it with more ashes and coals. Half an 
hour, more or less, is required, according to size. 

MEATS 299 

On removing the fish, pull off the skin, and the 
flesh will be found clean and palatable. 

A bird, for example a duck, is baked in much 
the same way. Draw it, through a small slit at 
the vent, but do not remove the feathers. If you 
like stuffed duck, stuff with bread crumbs or broken 
biscuit, well seasoned with salt and pepper. Wet 
the feathers by dipping the bird in water; then bury 
it in the ashes and coals. A teal will require about 
half an hour; other birds in proportion. 

Boiling. — The broader the pot, and the blacker 
It is, the quicker it boils. Fresh meats should be 
started in boiling water; salt or corned meats, and 
those intended for stews or soups, in cold water. 
The meat (except hams) should be cut into chunks 
of not over five pounds each, and soup bones well 
cracked. Watch during first half hour, and skim 
oft' all scum as fast as it rises, or it will settle and 
adhere to meat. Fresh meat should be boiled un- 
fil bones are free, or until a fork wnll pierce easily 
(ten pounds take about two and a half hours). 
Save the broth for soup-stock, or make gravy of 
it by seasoning with pepper and thickening with 
flour. (See page 303.) 

Meat that is to be eaten cold should be allowed 
to cool in the liquor in which it was boiled. A 
tablespoonful or two of vinegar added to the boil- 
ing water makes meat more tender and fish firmer. 
Turn the meat several times while boiling. If the 
water needs replenishing, do it w^th boiling, not 
cold, water. Season a short time before meat is 
done. If vegetables are to be cooked with the 
meat, add them at such time that they will just 
finish cooking when the meat is done (potatoes 
twenty to thirty minutes before the end ; carrots 
and turnips, sliced, one to one and a half hours). 

Remember this: put fresh meat in hard boiling 
water for only five minutes, to set the juices; then 
remove to greater height over the fire and boil 
very slowly — to let it boil hard all the time would 
make it tough and indigestible. Salt or corned 


meats go in cold water at the start and are gradu- 
ally brought to a boil; thereafter they should be 
allowed barely to simmer. 

Fish go in boiling salted water. Boiling meat 
must be kept covered. 

In heating milk beware that you do not burn it., 
Bring it gradually to the simmering point, but do 
not let it actually boil. 

At high altitudes it is impossible to cook satis- 
factorily by boiling, because water boils at a lower 
and lower temperature the higher we climb. The 
decrease is at the rate of about one degree for every 
550 feet up TO one mile, and one degree for 560 feet 
above that, when the temperature is 70°. With 
the air at 32° F., and the barometer at 30 inches, 
water boils at 212° at sea-level, 202.5° at 5,000 
feet, 193.3° at 10,000 feet, and 184.5° at 15,000 
feet. These figures vary somewhat according to 
the purity of the water, the material of the vessel, 

To parboil is to boil only until tender, before 
cooking in some other way. 

Stewing. — This process is slow, and should be 
reserved for tough meats. Use lean meat only. 
First brown it with some hot fat in a frying-pan ; 
or put a couple of ounces of chopped pork in a kettle 
and get it thoroughly hot; cut your meat into small 
pieces; drop them into the fat and "jiggle" the 
kettle until the surface of the meat is coagulated by 
the hot fat, being careful, the while, not to burn it. 
Add a thickening of a couple of ounces of flour and 
mix it thoroughly with the fat; then a pint 
of water or soup-stock. Heat the contents of the 
kettle to boiling and season with salt, pepper, and 
chopped onion. Curry powder, if you like it, is 
proper in a stew. Now cover the kettle closely and 
hang it where it will only simmer for four or five 
hours. Stews may be thickened with rice, pota- 
toes, or oatmeal, as well as with flour. Add condi- 
ments to suit the taste. A ragout is nothing but 
a highly seasoned stew. The greater the variety 

MEAT^^ 301 

cf meats and vegetables, the better. Rice and to- 
matoes are especially suitai)lo"'^dacaroni, spa- 
ghetti, vermicelli, and noodles; cife Utee in stews; 
you will need little or no bread if j^^iave such 
pastes or some dumplings in the f>?\^.\'^^fcr^ry the 
flavor of game stews, add beef '<5^tTacfest^ as 

flavor of game stews, add beef '<5^tTacci;? st^ as 
Steero or other beef cubes, or Oystefi^ j)^sJ«Sl^ 
vegetables may be used instead of fresnvj^iiS^^^ "^x 

The method given above is the one I u§u^p5^6lv"^J»^ 
low; but I take the liberty of adding anofher by*^ 
Captain Kenealy: 

" Stewing is an admirable way of making palatable 
coarse and tough pieces of meat, but it requires the knack, 
like all other culinary processes. Have a hot fry-pan ready, 
cut the meat up into small squares and put it (without 
any dripping or fat) into the pan. Let it brown well, add- 
ing a small quantity of granulated sugar and sliced onions 
to taste. Cook until the onions are tender and well col- 
ored. Then empty the fry-pan into a stew-pan and add 
boiling water to cover the meat, and let it simmer gently 
for two or three hours. Flavor with salt, pepper, sweet 
herbs, curry powder or what you will. The result will be 
a savory dish of tender meat, called by the French a ragout. 
It is easy to prepare it this way. Do not boil it furiously 
as is sometimes done, or it will become tough. This dish 
may be thickened with browned flour, and vegetables may 
be added — turnips, carrots, celery, etc., cut into small pieces 
and browned with the meat. The sugar improves the 
flavor vastly. The only condiments actually necessary are 
pepper and salt. Other flavorings are luxuries." 

Steaming. — To steam meat or vegetables' 
build a large fire and throw on it a number of 
smooth stones, not of the bomb-shell kind. Dig a 
hole in the ground near the fire. When the stones 
are red hot, fork them into the hole, level them, 
cover with green or wet leaves, grass, or branches^ 
place the meat or potatoes on this layer, cover with 
more leaves, and then cover all with a good layer 
of earth. Now bore a small hole down to the tood, 
pour in some water, and immediately stop up the 
hole, letting the food steam until tender. This is 
the Chinook method of cooking camass. Shellfish 
can be steamed in the same way. 


Meat Gravies and Sauces. — A gravy is sea- 
soned with nothing but salt and pepper, the object 
being to preserve the flavor of the meat. A sauce 
is highly seasoned to disguise poor meat, or made- 
over dishes, or whatever has been served so often 
that it begins to pall on the appetite. 

An abundance of rich gravy is relished by 
campers who do not carry butter. They have 
nothing else to make their bread '' slip down." 
Good gravy cannot be made from meat that has 
been fried properly or broiled, because the juice is 
left in the meat. Our pioneer families seldom had 
butter, yet they had to eat a much larger component 
of bread than we do, from lack of side dishes. 
Hence the '' fried-to-a-chip " school of cookery. 

In such case, the right way is obvious, granting 
that you have plenty of meat. Fry properly 
enough meat for the party and leave enough more 
in the pan to make gravy. Gash or mince this re- 
mainder, cook all the juice out of it without scorch- 
ing, throw out the refuse meat, rub in a thickening 
prepared in advance as directed belou^, salt and pep- 
per, then thin to the desired consistency with boil 
ing water. The thickening is made by rubbing 
cold milk, or water, or broth, a little at a time, into 
a spoonful of flour, until a smooth paste is formed 
that will just drop from a spoon ; or thicken with 
roux. Chopped liver improves a gravy. 

Roux (pronounced "roo") is a thickening foi 
gravy or soups that can be prepared at any time 
and kept ready for emergencies. It v^'ill keep good 
for months in a covered jar. A teaspoonful 
thickens half a pint of gravy, or a pint of soup. 

Brown roux is made thus: Melt slowly ^ lb. 
of butter, skim it well, let it stand for a minute 
to settle, and pour it off from the curd. Put the 
clear oily butter into a pan over a slow^ fire, shake 
into it enough sifted flour (7 or 8 oz.) to make a 
thick paste. Stir constantly and heat slow^ly and 
evenly until it is very thick and of a bright brown 
cnlnr. Put it ieto a jar. White roux is made in 

MEATS 303 

the same way except that it is stirred over a verj 
gentle fire until it is thoroughly baked but no\ 
browned. It is used for white gravy on fish, etc. 

Gravy for Boiled Meat. — Some of the liquor in 
which the meat was cooked can be thickened by 
melting a piece of butter the size of a small egg, 
mixing with it very smoothly a tablespoonful of 
flour, heating until lightly browned, adding the 
meat liquor and letting it boil up. Flavor to ta^tSJ^Vj. 
and serve separately from the meat. 0;i^^ 

Gravy for Roast Meat. — Use the drippings aw 
above, and thin with boiling water in which half- 
a teaspoonf\iI of salt has been dissolved. 

Dripping is the fat that drops from meat when 

Gravy from Extract of Beef. — When there is no 
venison in camp, it will not be long before the men 
crave the taste of beef. Liebig's extract, or Bovril, 
or Steero, dissolved in boiling water and liberally 
salted will make a good beef gravy by letting it boil 
up, then simmer, and thicken in one of the ways de- 
scribed above. 

Onion Gravy. — Rub up flour in water to a bat- 
€/; salt it. Chop some onion very fine and fry it 
a little in the meat juice. Pour the batter on this, 
and stir till the flour is done. 

Cream Gravy for Meat or Fish. — 

J4 pint milk. 
1 tablespoonful butter. 
y2 tablespoonful flour. 
J^ tablespoonful salt. 
y^ tablespoonful pepper. 

Heat butter in frying-pan. Add flour, stirring 
until smooth and frothy. Draw pan back and 
gradually stir in the milk. Then return the pan to 
the fire. Add salt and pepper. Stir until sauce 
boils. This must be used at once, and everybody's 
plate should be hot, of course. 

Sauces. — A camp cook nearly always lacks the 
sweet herbs, fresh parsley, mushrooms, capers, 
anchovies, shrimps, tarraapn, wine, and many other 


condiments to which standard sauces owe their 
characteristic flavors. He must make shift with 
spices and perhaps lemon, Worcestershire, vinegar, 
mustard, curry powder, or celery seed. How to 
use these to the best advantage cannot be taught in 
a book. Personal tastes and the materials at hand 
must govern. I give here the recipes for three 
simple sauces for meat. Others will be found in 
the chapters on Game, Fish, and Desserts. 

Mustard Sauce. — Brown two teaspoonfuls of 
flour in a pan with a little butter. Put two table- 
spoonfuls of butter on a plate and blend with it the 
browned flour, a teaspoonful of mustard, and a lit- 
tle salt. When these are smoothly mixed stir them 
into 34 pi^t boiling water. Simmer five minutes. 
Add enough vinegar or lemon juice to flavor. 

Venison Sauce. — Stir together one tablespoonful 
of butter with a teaspoonful of mustard and three 
tablespoonfuls of jelly (preferably currant). 
When these are well blended, add three tablespoon- 
fuls of vinegar, some grated nutmeg, and a dash of 
Cayenne pepper. Heat together. When the sauce 
boils add three tablespoonfuls chopped pickles. 
Serve at once. Currant jelly alone goes well wuth 

Sauce for Broiled Venison. — Make the steak- 
dish very hot. Put on it for each pound of venison 
3^ tablespoonful of butter, a tablespoonful of cur- 
rant jelly, one of boiling water, and a little pepper 
and salt. Turn the broiled steaks in the sauce once 
or twice and serve very hot. 

Parsley Butter. — I confess to a weakness for the 
flavor of parsley. The fresh herb, of course, we 
cannot have in camp, but the dehydrated kind, or 
C. & B. dried parsley, will do very well. Make a 
thin mixture of flour and water, salt it, and add 
a pat of butter (not really necessary). Boil this 
until the rawness is gone from the flour, and use it 
with fish, flesh, or fowl, particularly the latter. 



The following additional details are supplemen- 
tary to what has gone before, and presuppose a care- 
ful reading of the preceding pages. 

Game and all other kinds of fresh meat should 
be hung up till they have bled thoroughly and have 
cooled through and through — they are tenderer 
and better after they have hung several days. Ven- 
ison especially is tough until it has hung a week. 
In no case cook meat until the animal heat has left 
it: if you do, it is likely to sicken you. This does 
not apply to fish. P'rozen meat or fish should be 
thawed in very cold water and then cooked im- 
mediately — warm water would soften it and steal 
its flavor. 

All mammals from the 'coon size down, as well' 
as duck and grouse, unless young and tender, or 
unless they have hung several days, should be par- 
boiled (gently simmered) from ten to thirty min- 
utes, according to size, before frying, broiling, or 
roasting. The scent glands of mammals and the 
oil sacs of birds should be removed before cooking. 
In small mammals look for pea-shaped, waxy or 
reddish kernels under the front legs and on either 
side of the small of the back. 

As game has little natural fat, it requires fre- 
quent basting and the free use of butter or bacon 
grease in cooking. 

Venison. — (Deer of all species, elk, moose t, 



Fried Venison. — See page 291. 

Boiled Venison. — See page 292. 

Roast Venison. — See page 294. 

Braised Venison. — See page 296. 

Baked Venison. — See page 297. 

Boiled Venison. — See page 299. 

Stewed Venison. — See page 300. 

Steamed Venison. — See page 301. 

Baked Deer's Head. — See page 297. 

Braised Bear. — See page 296. 

Fried Bear. — See page 292. 

Brains. — Clean and wash them well. Yry ; 01 
boil slowly half an hour. 

Brains and Eggs. — Desiccated eggs will do as 
well as fresh ones. Soak them as directed on can. 

Chop fine some bacon and enough onion to sea- 
son. Dice the brains into about ^-inch cubes. 
Fry bacon and onion together until brown. Add 
the brains, and cook until nearly done; then add 
the eggs, beaten slightly, and fry until they are 
scrambled. Season with salt and pepper. 

Heart. — Remove valves and tough, fibrous tis- 
sue; then braise, or cut into small pieces and use in 
soups or stews. 

Kidneys, Fried. — Halve them, slit twice the 
long way on the inside, but do not cut clear 
through; leave the fat on the kidneys. Fry^ until 
all blueness has disappeared. 

Kidneys, Stewed. — Soak in cold water one hour. 
Cut into small pieces, and drop each piece into cold 
water, as cut. Wash well; then stew, seasoning 
with onion, celery (dehydrated), cloves, salt and 

Liver. — Carefully remove the gall-bladder if 
the animal has one — deer have not. Parboil the 
liver and skim off the bitter scum that rises. Slice 
rather thin ; put one slice of bacon in the pan and 
fry from it enough grease to keep liver from 
sticking. Salt the liver and fry until half done; 
then add more bacon and fry all until done. Liver 
should be thoroughly cooked; if you put all the 

GAME 307 

bacon in with it at the start the latter would be 
ruined before the liver was done. 

Another way: cut liver into slices ^-inch thick, 
soak it one hour in cold salt water, rinse well in 
warm water, wipe dry, dip each slice in flour sea- 
soned with salt and pepper, and fry as above. 

If in a hurry, put the liver on a green hardwood 
stick for a spit, skewer some of the caul fat around 
it, and roast before the fire. 

Marrow Bones. — Cover ends with small pieces 
of plain dough made with flour and water, over 
which tie a floured cloth; place bones upright in 
kettle, and cover with boiling water. Boil two 
hours. Remove cloth and paste, push out mar- 
row, and serve with dry toast. 

Milt (Spleen). — Skewer a piece of bacon to it, 
and broil. 

Moose Muffle (nose and upper lip). — Boil like 
pig's head. Add an onion. 

Tonffue. — Soak for one hour ; rinse in fresh 
water; put in a kettle of cold water, bring to a 
boil, skim and simmer two hours, or until tender. 
A blade of mace and a clove or two improve the 
gravy; so also Worcestershire sauce. 

Croquettes. — Two cups minced meat or game 
of any kind, ^ cup bread or cracker crumbs, i^ 
egg, melted butter. Roll meat, seasoning, and 
enough of the butter to moisten, into pear-shaped 
bails. Dip in beaten eggs and crumbs. Fry, with 
enough butter, to a nice brown. 

Venison Sausages. — Utilize the tougher parts of 
the deer, or other game, by mincing the raw meat 
with half as much salt pork, season w^ith pepper and 
sage, make into little pats, and fry like sausages. 
Very good. 

Game Pot Pie. — Take J^ teaspoonful baking 
powder to >4 pint of flour, sift together, and add 
a teaspoonful lard or butter by rubbing it m, also 
a pinch of salt. Make a soft biscuit dough of this, 
handling as little as possible and being careful not 
to mix too thin. Roll into a sheet and cut into 


strips about i^ inches wide and 3 inches long, cut- 
ting two or three little holes through each to let 
steam escape. Meantime you have been boiling 
meat or game and have sliced some potatoes. 

When the meat is within one-half hour of being 
done, pour off the broth into another vessel and lift 
out most of the meat. Place a layer of meat and 
potatoes in bottom of kettle, and partially cover 
with strips of the dough ; then another layer of 
meat and vegetables, another of dough, and so on 
until the pot is nearly full, topping off with dough. 
Pour the hot broth over this, cover tightly, and boil 
one-half hour, without lifting the pot cover, which, 
by admitting cold air, would make the dough 
" sad." Parsley helps the pot, when you can get it. 

Dumplings. — These add zest to a stevv' or to 
boiled meat of any kind. Plain dumplings are 
made of biscuit dough or the batter of dropped 
biscuit (recipes in chapter on Bread). Drop them 
into the pot a short time before meat is done. See 
also page 358. 

Bear, Braised. — See page 296. 

Small Game. — 

Jambolaya. — This is a delicious Creole dish, 
easily prepared. Cut up any kind of small game 
into joints, and stew them. When half done, add 
some minced ham or bacon, ^ pint rice, and season 
with pepper and salt. If rabbit is used, add onions. 
Serve with tomatoes as a sauce. 

Curry of Game. — Cut some birds or other small 
game into rather small joints. Fry until lightly 
browned. Score each joint slightly, place a little 
curry powder in each opening, and squeeze lemon 
juice over it. Cover the joints with brown gravy 
and simmer gently for twenty minutes. Serve 
with rice around the dish. (See also Curry Sauce j 
page 320.) ^ 

Game Pie. — Make a plain pie crust as directed 
in the chapter on Desserts. Cut the game into 
joints. Season rather highly. Moisten the joints 

GAME 309 

with melted butter and lemon juice, or put a few 
thin strips of bacon in with them. Cover with 
top crust like a fruit pie and bake not too long; 
time according to size. 

Squirrels, Fried. — Unless they are young, par- 
boil them gently for Yz hour in salted water. 
Then fry in butter or pork grease until brown. A 
dash of curry powder when frying is begun im- 
proves them, unless you dislike curry. Make gravy 
as directed on page 303. 

Squirrels, Broiled. — Use only young ones. Soak 
in cold salted w^ater for an hour, wipe dry, and 
broil over the coals with a slice of bacon laid over 
each squirrel to baste it. 

Squirrels, Stewed. — They are best this way, or 
fricasseed. For directions see pages 300 and 292. 

Squirrels, Barbecued. — Build a hardwood fire 
between two large logs lying about two feet apart. 
At each end of the fire drive two forked stakes 
about fifteen inches apart, so that the four stakes 
will form a rectangle, like the legs of a table. The 
forks should all be about eighteen inches above the 
ground. Choose young, tender squirrels (if old 
ones must be used, parboil them until tender but 
not soft). Prepare spits by cutting stout switches 
of some wood that does not burn easily (sassafras 
is best — beware of poison sumach), peel them, 
sharpen the points, and harden them by thrusting 
for a few moments under the hot ashes. Impale 
each squirrel by thrusting a spit through flank, 
belly, and shoulder, on one side, and another spit 
similarly on the other side, spreading out the sides, 
and, if necessary, cutting through the ribs, so that 
the squirrel will lie open and flat. 

Lay two poles across the fire from crotch to 
crotch of the posts, and across these lay your spitted 
squirrels. As soon as these are heated through, 
begin basting with a piece of pork on the end of a 
switch. Turn the squirrels as required. Cook 
slowly, tempering the heat, if needful, by scatter- 
ing ashes thinly over the coals: but remove the 


ashes for a final browning. When the squirrels 
are done, butter them and gash a little that the 
juices may flow. 

Rabbit, or Hare. — Remove the head ; skin and 
draw, cut out the waxy glands under the front legs 
where they join the body ; soak in cold salted water 
for one hour ; rinse in fresh cold water and wipe dry. 
It is better, however, unless the animals are quite 
young, to parboil them for about fifteen minutes 
with salt, pepper, and an onion. Rabbits are not 
really good to eat until several days after killing. 

To fry: parboil first, cut off legs at body joint, 
and cut the back into three pieces. Sprinkle with 
flour and fry brown on both sides. Remove rabbit 
to a dish kept hot over a few coals. Make a gravy 
as follows: Put into the pan a small onion previ- 
ously parboiled and minced and add one cup boil- 
ing water. Stir in gradually one or two table- 
spoonfals of browned flour; stir well, and let it boil 
one minute. Season with pepper, salt, and nutmeg. 
Pour it over the rabbit. 

To roast in reflector: cut as above, lay a slice 
of pork on each piece, and baste frequently. The- 
rabbit may be roasted whole before the fire. 

To bake in an oven: stuff with a dressing made 
of bread crumbs, the heart and liver (previously 
parboiled in a small amount of water), some fat 
salt pork, and a small onion, all minced and mixed 
together, seasoned with pepper, salt, and nutmeg, 
and slightly moistened with the water in which 
heart and liver were parboiled. Sew up the open- 
ing closely; rub butter or dripping over rabbit, 
dredge with flour, lay thin slices of fat pork on 
back, and place it in pan or Dutch oven, back upper- 
most. Pour into pan a pint or more of boiling 
water (or stock, if you have it), and bake with 
very moderate heat, one hour, basting every few 
minutes if in pan, but not if in Dutch oven. Pre- 
pare a gravy with the pot juice, as directed above. 

Rabbit is good stewed with onion, nutmeg, pep- 

GAME 311 

per, and salt for seasoning. Also curried, after the 
manner already described. 

* The rabbity taste can be eliminated by putting a table- 
spoonful of vinegar in the water in which the rabbit is 
boiled Hard boiling will toughen the meat; allow it to 
simmer gently for one or two hours. When tender add a 
minced onion and some bacon grease to the liquor and place 
in the baker to brown. _ . 

"The Germans prepare rabbit in a more ambitious 
manner, but one that well repays. The disjointed rabbit is 
simmered until tender. Pour the meat and liquor into a 
dressing made as follows: Fry until brown three or four 
pieces of bacon which have been diced. Add to this a 
tablespoonful of flour, a teaspoonful each of sugar and salt, 
a tablespoonful of vinegar, and a few cloves if possible. 
Stir well to keep from burning. , , . • ,u oK 

" In both cases time can be saved by simmering che rab- 
bit in the evening, and, on the following day, browning 
in a baker or serving with the German dressing. {Katli- 
rene Pinkerton.) 

Rabbits are unfit to eat In late summer as their 
backs are then infested with warbles, which are the 
larvs of the rabbit bot-fly. I 

possum.— To call our possum an opossum, out- 
ride of a scientific treatise, is an affectation l^os- 
sum is his name wherever he is known and hunted, 
this country over. He is not good until you have 
freezing weather; nor Is he to be served without 
sweet potatoes, except in desperate extremity, i hi^ 
is how to serve " possum hot." — 

Stick him, and hang him up to bleed until morn^ 
ino- A tub is half filled with hot water (not quite 
scalding) into which drop the possum and hold him 
by the tail until the hair will strip. Take him out 
iJy him on a plank, and pull the hair out with you 
fingers. Draw, clean, and hang him up to freeze 
?or two or three nights. Then place him in a 
S-gallon kettle of cold water, into which throw 
two pods of red pepper. Parboil for one hour in 
this pepper-water, which Is then thrown out and 
the kettle refilled with fresh water, wherein he is 
boiled one hour. 


While this is going on, slice and steam somQ 
sweet potatoes. Take the possum out, place him 
in a large Dutch oven, sprinkle him with black 
pepper, salt, and a pinch or two of sage. A dash 
of lemon will do no harm. Pack sweet potatoes 
around him. Pour a pint of water into the oven, 
put the lid on, and see that it fits tightly. Bake 
slowly until brown and crisp. Serve hot, without 
grav}^ Bourbon whiskey is the orthodox accom- 
paniment. If you are a teetotaler, any planta- 
tion darky can show you how to make " ginger 
tea " out of ginger, molasses, and water. Corn 
bread, of course. 

It is said that possum is not hard to digest even 
when eaten cold, but the general verdict seems to 
be that none is ever left over to get cold. 

When you have no oven, roast the possum be- 
fore a high bed of coals, having suspended him by 
a wet string, which is twisted and untwisted to 
give a rotary motion, and constantly baste it with 
a sauce made from red pepper, salt, and vinegar. 

Possum may also be baked in clay, with his hide 
on. Stuff with stale bread and sage, plaster over 
him an inch of stiff clay, and bake as previously 
directed. He will be done in about an hour. 

Coon. — It is likewise pedantic to call this ani- 
mal a raccoon. Coon he always has been, is now, 
and shall ever be, to those who know him best. 

Skin and dress him. Remove the " kernels " 
(scent glands) under each front leg and on either 
side of spine in small of back. Wash in cold water. 
Parboil in one or two waters, depending upon the 
animal's age. Stuff with dressing like a turkey. 
If you have a tart apple, quarter it and add to the 
dressing. Bake to a delicate brown. Serve with 
fried sweet potatoes. 

Porcupine. — I quote from "Nessmuk:" "And do 
not despise the fretful porcupine; he is better than 
he looks. If you happen on a healthy young speci- 
men when you are needing meat, give him a show 
before condemning: him. Shoot him humanely in 

GAME 313 

the head, and dress him. It is easily done; there 
are no quills on the bell]^, and the skin peels as 
freely as a rabbit's. Take him to camp, parboil 
him for thirty minutes, and roast or broil him to a 
rich brown over a bed of glowing coals. He will 
need no pork to make him juicy, and you will find 
him very like spring lamb, only better." 

The porcupine may also be baked in clay, with- 
out skinning him; the quills and skin peel off with 
the hard clay covering. Or, fry quickly. 

As I have never eaten porcupine, I will do some 
more quoting — this time from Dr. Breck: "It 
may be either roasted or made into a stew, in the 
manner of hares, but must be parboiled at least a 
half-hour to be tender. One part of the porcupine 
is always a delicacy — the liver, which is easily 
removed by making a cut just under the neck into 
which the hand is thrust, and the liver pulled out. 
It may be fried with bacon, or baked slowly and 
carefully in the baker-pan with slices of bacon." 

Muskrat. — You may be driven to this, some day^ 
and w^ill then learn that muskrat, properly pre- 
pared is not half bad. The French-Canadians 
found that out long ago. Remove the musk glands 
and the white stringy substance found on the in- 
side of the forearms and thighs. I do not remem- 
ber where I picked up the following recipe: 

'' Skin and clean carefully four muskrats, being 
particular not to rupture musk or gall sac. Take 
the hind legs and saddles, place in pot with a little 
water, a little julienne (or fresh vegetables, if you 
have them), some pepper and salt, and a few slices 
of pork or bacon. Simmer slowly over fire until 
half done. Remove to baker, place water from pot 
in the baking pan, and cook until done, basting fre- 
quently. This will be found a most toothsome 

Muskrat may also be broiled over the hot coals, 
basting with a bit of pork held on a switch abovf 
the beastie. 

Woodchuck. — I asked old Uncle Bob Flowers, 


one of my neighbors in the Smokies: "Did you 
ever eat a woodchuck ?" 

" Reckon I don't know what them is." 

" Ground-hog." 

" O la ! dozens of 'em. The red ones hain't 
good, but the gray ones! man, they'd jest make yer 
mouth water!" 

"How do you cook them!" 

" Cut the leetle red kernels out from under their 
forelegs ; then bile 'em, fust — all the strong is left 
in the water — then pepper 'em and sage 'em, and 
put 'em in a pan, and bake 'em to a nice rich brown, 
and — then I don't want nobody there but me! " 

According to J. Alden Loring, "The only way 
to cook a woodchuck properly is to roast him whole 
on a stick over a camp-fire, turning him from time 
to time until he is well done. The skin keeps the 
fat from broiling out, and enough sinks into the 
flesh to make it tender and juicy." 

Beaver Tail. — This tid-bit of the old-time trap- 
pers will be tasted by few of our generation, more's 
the pity. Impale the tail on a sharp stick and broil 
over the coals for a few minutes. The rough, scah 
hide will blister and come off in sheets, leaving the 
tail clean, white, and solid. Then roast, or boil 
until tender. It is of a gelatinous nature, tastes 
somewhat like pork, and is considered very 
strengthening food. A young beaver, stuffed and 
baked in its hide, is good ; old ones have a peculiar 
flavor that is unpleasant to those not accustomed to 
such diet. 

Beaver tail may also be soused in vinegar, after 
boiling, or baked with beans. It makes a good soup 
if part of the backbone is added. 

The liver, broiled on a stick and seasoned with 
butter, salt, and pepper, is the best part of the 

Birds. — If game birds are not hung a few days 
after killing they are likely to be tough; but, as I 
have remarked elsewhere, this should not be over- 

GAME 315^ 

Game Birds, Fried. — Birds for frying should be 
cut in convenient pieces, parboiled until tender in 
a pot with enough water to cover, then removed,, 
saving the liquor. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, and 
flour (this for the sake of the gravy), fry in melted 
pork fat, take out when done, then stir into the 
frying fat one-half cupful dry flour till a dark 
brown, add parboiling liquor, bring to a boil, put 
game in dish, and pour gravy over it, or serve with 
one of the sauces described below. 

Game Birds, Broiled. — Split them up the back, 
broil over the coals, and baste with a piece of pork 
on tined stick held over them. Fillets of ducks or 
other large birds may be sliced off and impaled on 
sticks wi^h thin slices of pork. 

Game Birds, Fricasseed. — Any kind of bird may 
be fricasseed as follows: Cut it into convenient 
pieces, parboil them in enough water to cover; 
when tender, remove from the pot and drain, 
fry two or three slices of pork until brown. 
Sprinkle the pieces of bird with salt, pepper, and 
flour, and fry to a dark brown in the pork fat. 
Take up the bird, and stir into the frying fat half 
a cup, more or less, of dry flour, stirring until it 
becomes a dark brown ; then pour over it the liquor 
in which the bird was boiled (unless it was a fish- 
eater), and bring the mixture to a boil. Put the 
bird in a hot dish, and serve with the gravy poured 
over it. 

Wild Turkey, Roasted. — Pluck, draw, and 
singe. Wipe the bird inside and out. Rub the 
inside with salt and red pepper. Stuff the crop 
cavity, then the body, with either of the dressings 
mentioned below, allowing room for the filling to 
swell. Tie a string around the neck, and sew up 
the body. Truss wings to body with wooden 
skewers. Pin thin slices of fat pork to breast in 
same way. Suspend the fowl before a high bed of 
hardwood coals, as previously described, and place 
a pan under it to catch drippings. Tie a clean 
rag on the end of a stick to baste with- Turn and 


baste frequently. Roast until well done (two to 
three hours). (See also page 294.) 

Meantime cleanse the gizzard, liver, and heart 
of the turkey thoroughly in cold water; mince 
them; put them in a pot with enough cold water 
to cover, and stew gently until tender; then place 
where they will keep warm until wanted. When 
the turkey is done, add the giblets with the water 
in which they were stewed to the drippings in pan; 
thicken with one or two tablespoonfuls of flour 
that has been stirred up in milk or water and 
browned in a pan ; season with pepper and salt, and 
serve with the turkey. If you have butter, the 
fowl may be basted with it (melted, of course), 
and when stewing the giblets add a tablespoonful 
of butter and half a teacupful of evaporated milk. 

Stuffing for Turkey. — ( i ) If chestnuts are pro- 
curable, roast a quart of them, remove shells, and 
mash. Add a teaspoonful of salt, and some pep- 
per. Mix well together, and stuff the bird with 

(2) Chop some fat salt pork very fine; soak 
stale bread or crackers in hot water, mash smooth, 
and mix with the chopped pork. Season with salt, 
pepper, sage, and chopped onion. No game bird 
save the wild turkey should be stuffed, unless you 
deliberately wish to disguise the natural flavor. 

Wild Turkey, Boiled. — Pluck, draw, singe, 
wash inside with warm water, and wipe dry. Cut 
off head and neck close to backbone, leaving enough 
skin to turn over the stuffing. Draw sinews from 
legs, and cut off feet just below joint of leg. Press 
legs into sides and skewer them firmly. Stuff 
as above. Put the bird into enough hot water to 
cover it. Remove scum as it rises. Boil gently one 
and one-half to two hours. Serve with giblet sauce 
as above. 

Waterfowl have two large oil glands in the tail, 
with which they oil their feathers. The oil in 
these glands imparts a strong, disagreeable flavor 
*^^ the bird soon after it is killed. Hence the 

GAME 317' 

tail should always be removed betore cooking. 

To cook a large bird in a hurry. — Slice off sev^ 
eral fillets from the breast ; impale them, with slices 
of pork, on a green switch; broil over the coals. 

Wild Goose, Roasted. — A good way to suspend 
a large bird before the fire is described by Dillon 
Wallace in his Lure of the Labrador Wild: 

** George built a big fire — much bigger than usual. At 
the back he placed the largest green log he could find. Just 
in front of the fire, and at each side, he fixed a forked stake, 
and on these rested a cross-pole. From the center of the 
pole he suspended a piece of stout twine, which reached 
nearly to the ground, and tied the lower end into a noose. 

"Then it was that the goose, nicely prepared for the 
cooking, was brought forth. Through it at the wings 
George stuck a sharp wooden pin, leaving the ends to 
protrude on each side. Through the legs he stuck a sim- 
ilar pin in a similar fashion. This being done, he slipped 
the noose at the end of the twine over the ends of one of 
the pins. And lo and behold! the goose was suspended 
before the fire. 

"It hung low — just high enough to permit the placing 
of a dish under it to catch the gravy. Now and then 
George gave it a twirl so that none of its sides might 
have reason to complain at not receiving its share of 
the heat. The lower end roasted first; seeing which, 
George took the goose off, reversed it, and set it twirling 

Time-table for Roasting Birds. — A goose or a 
middling-sized turkey takes about two hours to 
roast, a large turkey three hours, a duck about 
forty-five minutes, a pheasant twenty to thirty min- 
utes, a woodcock or snipe fifteen to twenty minutes. 

M^ild Duck, Baked. — The bird should be dry- 
picked, and the head left on. Put a little pepper 
and salt inside the bird, but no other dressing. 
Lay the duck on its back in the bake-pan. Put 
no water in the pan. The oven must be hot, but 
not hot enough to burn ; test with the hand. Baste 
frequently with butter or bacon. A canvasback 
requires about thirty minutes; other birds accord- 
ing to size. When done, the duck should be plump, 
and the flesh red, not blue. 

This is the way to bring out the distinctive flavor 


of a canvasback. Seasoning and stuffing destroy 
all that. A canvasback should not be washed 
either inside or outside, but wiped clean with a dry 
cloth. Duck should be served with currant jelly, 
if you have it. (See also page 297.) 

Wild Duck, Stewed. — Clean well and divide 
into convenient pieces (say, legs, wings, and four 
parts of body). Place in pot with enough cold 
water to cover. Add salt, pepper, a pinch of mixed 
herbs, and a dash of Worcestershire sauce. Cut 
up fine some onions and potatoes (carrots, too, if 
5^ou can get them). Put a few of these in the pot 
so they may dissolve and add body to the dish 
(flour or corn starch may be substituted for thick- 
ening). Stew slowly, skim and stir frequently. 
In forty-five minutes add the rest of the carrots, 
and in fifteen minutes more add the rest of the 
onions and potatoes, also turnips, if you have any. 
Stew until meat is done. 

A plainer camp dish is to stew for an hour in 
water that has previously been boiled for an hour 
with pieces of salt pork. (See also page 300.) 

Fish-eating Fowls. — The rank taste of these can 
be neutralized, unless very strong, by using plenty 
of pepper, inside and out, and baking with an onion 
inside. Or, skin, draw, and immerse overnight in 
a solution of ^^ small teacup of vinegar to a gal- 
lon of water; then fry or bake. 

Coots, sheldrake or old-squaw are rid of their 
fishy taste, without sacrificing the game flavor, by 
a process described by Mary Walsh: 

"Pluck and draw the birds immediately; don't allo-w 
them to hang with the entrails in. Wash thoroughly 
with cold water both outside and in. Cut off the tail 
for about one inch with the fatty tissue at the base. 
Sprinkle with pungent white pepper both inside and out, 
using two teaspoonfuls to each bird. Place in the ice-box 
but not touching the ice, and keep for at least one week, 
better ten days. Then wash with salt water (handful to 
the pint), dry and roast for twenty minutes with an 
apple placed in each bird. Then serve, removing the 
apple before placing on the table." 

GAME 319 

'1 ne breast ol ?. coot or rail may be broiled ovei 
the embers. Cut slits in it, and in these stick slices 
of fat salt pork. The broiled breast of a young 
bittern is good. 

Grouse, Broiled. — Pluck and singe. Split down 
the back through the bone, and remove the trail. 
Wipe out with damp towel. Remove head and 
feet. Rub inside with pepper and salt. Flatten 
the breast, brush over with melted butter, or skewer 
bacon on upper side, and grill over a hot bed of 

Grouse, Roasted. — Dress and draw, but do not 
split. Place a piece of bacon or pork inside, and 
skew^er a piece to the breast. Roast before the 
fire as described for turkey, or in a reflector. 

Deviled Birds. — If drumsticks and breasts of 
birds are left over, they are better deviled than 
served cold. Mix up with a knife half an ounce 
of butter, half a teaspoonful each of mustard and 
salt, some white or black pepper, and enough cay- 
enne or chile to give it " snap." Slit the meat, and 
insert this mixture, or chop the meat fine and add 
the seasoning. Heat well in the frying-pan, and 

Small Birds (quail, woodcock, snipe, plover, 
etc.). — These are good roasted before a bed of 
coals, searing them first as in broiling meat. Im- 
pale each bird on a green stick, with a slice of 
bacon on the point of the stick over the bird. 
Thrust butt of stick into the ground, and incline 
stick toward the fire. Turn frequently. 

When a number of birds are to be roasted, a 
better way is to set up two forked stakes and a 
cross-pole before the fire. Hang birds from the 
pole, heads downward, by wet strings. Baste as 
recommended for turkey, and turn frequently. 
Serve very hot, without any sauce, unless it be 
plain melted butter and a slice of lemon. 

To grill in a pan : pin a bit of bacon to the 
breast of each bird with a sliver like a toothpick; 
hold the pan close over the coals at first for searing; 


then cook more slowly, but not enough ^o dry out 
the meat. 

Such birds can also be served in a ragout. (See 
page 300.) 

Woodcock are not drawn. The trail shrivels up 
and is easily removed at table. 

Sauces for Game. (See abo page 303.) — 

Giblet Sauce. — See under Wild Turkey, 

Celery Sauce. — Having none of the vegetable 
itself, use a teaspoonful of celery seed freshly pow- 
dered, or five drops of the essence of celery on a 
piece of sugar. Flavor some melted butter with 
this, add a little milk, and simmer ten minutes. 

Cranberry Sauce. — Put a pound of ripe cran- 
berries in a kettle with just enough water to pre- 
vent burning. Stew to a pulp, stirring all the 
time. Then add syrup previously prepared by 
boiling a pound of sugar in % pint of water. 
Canned or dehydrated cranberries will answer. 

Curry Sauce. — This is used with stewed small 
game or meat (especially left-overs) that is served 
in combination with rice. (See page 308.) 

Put a large spoonful of butter in a pan over 
the fire; add one onion cut into slices; cook until 
the onion is lightly browned. Then stir in one 
teaspoonful of curry powder and add gradually a 
generous cup of brown gravy, or soup stock, or 
the broth in which meat has been stewed, or evap- 
orated milk slightly thinned. Boil fifteen minutes, 
and strain. Curry may be varied indefinitely by 
further flavoring with lemon juice, red pepper, nut- 
meg, mace, or Worcestershire sauce. 


Fish and Shellfish 

Fish of the same species vary a great deal in 
quahty according to the water in which they are 
caught. A black bass taken from one of the over- 
flow lakes of the Mississippi bears no comparison 
with its brother from a swift, clear, spring-fed 
Ozark rive/. But however pure its native waters 
rnay be, no fish is good to eat unless it has been 
properly cared for after catching (see Chapter 
XV) ; and the best of fish is ruined if fried sog^y 
with grease (see Chapter XVI under Frying). 

Fish, Fried. — Small fish should be fried whole, 
with the backbone severed to prevent curling up ; 
large fish may be steaked (see Chapter XV); 
m.edium ones should have heads and tails removed 
so they will lie flat in the pan, and have the back- 
bone cut in two or three places. 

It is customary to roll fish in cornmeal or bread 
crumbs, thinly and evenly, before frying. Thai 
browns them, and keeps them fromi sticking to the 
pan; but it is best only for coarse fish; trout is of 
better flavor if simply wiped dry. 

Fry in plenty of very hot grease to a golden 
brown, sprinkling lightly with pepper and salt just 
as the color turns. If the fish is not naturally 
tull-flavored, a few drops of lemon juice will im- 
prove it. 

Olive oil is best to fry fish in, especially small 
ones that can be quite immersed in it; but Crisco, 
bacon, salt pork, butter, or lard will do very well. 



When butter Is used, less salt Is required. If the 
fish has not been wiped dry It will absorb too 
much grease. If the frying fat Is not very hot 
when fish are put In It they will get soggy with 
it: put the pieces In one at a time so as not to 
check the heat. 

Fish, Broiled. — (See also Chapter XVI.) If a 
broiling Iron is used, first rub it with fat bacon to 
prevent fish from sticking to It. When broiling 
large fish, remove the head, split down the back 
instead of the belly, and lay on the broiler with 
strips of bacon or pork laid across. Broil over a 
rather moderate bed of coals so that the Inside will 
cook done, but beware of cooking dry and " chippy." 
Small fish are best broiled quickly over ardent coals. 
They need not have heads removed. 

When done, sprinkle with salt and pepper, spread 
with butter (unless you have been basting with 
bacon), and hold again over fire until butter melts. 
If you have no broiler, sharpen a small green 
stick, thrust this through the mouth ^nd into the 
Dody, and keep turning over the coals while you 
baste with the drippings from a bit of bacon held 
on another sticl: above the fish. 

Fish, Skewered.— Sm?i\l fish may be skewered 
on a thin, straight, greenwood stick, sharpened at 
the end, with a thin slice of bacon or pork between 
(every two fish, the stick being constantly turned 
over the coals like a spit, so that juices may not 
be lost. 

Another way Is to cut some green hardwood 
sticks, about three feet long, forked at one end, 
and sharpen the tines. Lay a thin slice of Pork m- 
side each fif.h lengthwise, drive tmes through fish 
and pork, letting them through between ribs near 
backbone and on opposite sides of the latter — then 
the fish won't drop off as soon as It begins to soften 
and curl from the heat. Place a log lengthwise 
ot edge of coals, lay broiling sticks on this suppori; 
slanting upward over the fire, and lay a small lo(i 
over their butts. Large fish should be oUnked. 


Fish Roasted in a Reflector. — This process is 
simpler than baking, and superior in resulting 
flavor, since the fish is basted in its own juices, and 
is djelicately browned by the direct action of the 
lire. The surface of the fish is lightly moistened 
with olive oil (first choice) or butter; lacking 
these, use drippings, or bacon grease, or lard. 
Then place the fish in the pan and add two or three 
morsels of grease around it. Roast in front of a 
good fire, just as you would bake biscuit. Be care- 
ful not to overroast and dry the fish by evaporat- 
ing the gravy. There is no better way to cook 
a large fish, unless it be planked. 

Fish, Planked. — More expeditious than baking, 
and better flavored. Split and smooth a slab of 
sweet hardwood two or three inches thick, two feet 
long, and somewhat wider than the opened fish. 
Prop it in front of a bed of coals till it is sizzling 
hot. Split the fish down the back its entire length, 
but do not cut through the belly skin. Clean and 
wipe it quite dry. When plank is hot, grease it, 
spread fish out like an opened book, tack it, skin side 
down, to the plank and prop before fire. Baste 
continuously with a bit of pork on a switch held 
above it, or with butter. Reverse ends of plank 
from time to time. If the flesh is flaky when 
pierced with a fork, it Is done. Sprinkle salt and 
pepper over the fish, moisten with drippings, and 
serve on the hot plank. No better dish ever was 
>et before an epicure. Plenty of butter improves 
it at table. 

Fish, Stuffed and Baked. — Clean, remove fins, 
but leave on head and tail. Prepare a stuffing as 
follows: put a cupful of dry bread-crumbs in a 
frying-pan over the fire with two tablespoonfuls of 
drippings, or the equivalent of butter, and stir 
them until they begin to brown. Then add enough 
boiling water to moisten them. Season this stuf- 
fing rather highly Vvith salt, pepper, and either 
celery seed, or sage, or a teaspoonful of finely 
chopped onion. StuS the fish with this and sew up 


the opening, or wind string several times aroui>d 
the fish. Lay several strips of salt pork or bacon 
in the pan, and several over the top of the fish 
Sprinkle over all a little water, pepper, salt, and 
bread crumbs (or dredge with flour). Bake in a 
hot oven, basting frequently. When flakes of fish 
begin to separate, it will be done. This is best for 
coarse fish. 

Fish, Steamed. — Smear some tissue Manila 
paper with butter. Clean the fish, leaving head 
and fins on. Season with salt and cayenne pep- 
per. Roll each fish separately in a piece of the 
buttered paper. Place the fish in a pile and en- 
velop them in a large sheet of paper. Then wrap 
the bundle in a newspaper, and dip this in water 
for five minutes, or long enough to saturate the 
newspaper. Scrape a hole in the middle of a bed 
of coals, and bury the package in the embers. 
Leave it there ten to twenty minutes, depending 
upon size. The newspaper will scorch, but the in- 
ner wrappers will not. The result is a dish fit for 
Olympus, {Up De Graff.) 
Doctor Breck says of this dish: 

" I am so fond of steamed trout that I never fail to take 
with me a dozen sheets of parchment paper (the kmd m 
which butter is sold) in which to wrap my hsh. . . . 
* Steam-baked ' trout are the ne plus ultra of woods cook- 

Small fish can be steamed in wet basswood 
leaves, or other large leaves, without buttering. 
For another method of steaming, see page 301. 

Fish, Boiled.— None but fish of good size should 
be boiled. If the fish is started in cold water and 
not allowed to boil hard, it will be less likely to 
fall apart, but the flavor will not be so good. It 
is better to wrap the fish in a clean cloth and drop 
it into boiling water well salted. A tablespoonful 
of vinegar, or the juice of a lemon, improves the 
dish. Leave the head on, but remove the hns. 
Boil verv gently until the fish will easily part from 
the bones. Skim off the scum as it rises, lime 


depends on species; from eight to ten minutes per 
pound for thick fish, and five minutes for small ones. 

Boiled fish require considerable seasoning and a 
rich sauce, or at least melted butter, to accompany 
them. Besides vinegar or lemon, onions, carrots, 
cloves, etc., may be used in the water. Recipes 
^or sauces follov/. (See also pages 303 and 304.) 

Butter Sauce. — 

2 heaped tablespoonfuls butter. 
I heaped tablespoonful flour. 

1 teaspoonful salt. 

y^ teaspoonful pepper. 

Put the butter in a cold pan, and rub Into it the 
flour, salt, and pepper, beating well. Then pour 
on a scant half-pint boiling water. Cook tw^o min* 
utes. L^se immediately. 

White Sauce. — 

2 tablespoonfuls butter. 

2 heaped tablespoonfuls flour. 
I pint milk. 

Y2 teaspoonful salt. 
]/% teaspoonful pepper. 

For two, use half this. 

Cook butter until it bubbles. Add flour, and 
cook thoroughly, until smooth. Remove from di- 
rect heat of fire, but let it simmer, and add the milk 
In thirds, rubbing Into a smooth paste each time as 
It thickens. Season last. Thick white sauce is 
made by doubling the flour. 

Cold fish that has been left over Is good when 
heated In this sauce. It can be served thus, or baked 
and some chopped pickles sprinkled over the top. 

India Sauce. — Make a white sauce as above, add 
a teaspoonful of curry powder, and some pickles, 
chopped small, with a little of the vinegar. 

Lemon Sauce. — 

I lemon. 

3 tablespoonfuls sugar. 
y2 pint milk. 

I scant tablespoonful butter. 


Put the milk, sugar, and thin rind of the lemon 
into a pan and simmer gently ten minutes. Then 
add the juice of the lemon and the butter rolled 
in flour. Stir until butter is dissolved and strain 
or pour off clear. 

Mustard Sauce (best for coarse fish). — Melt 
butter size of large egg in pan and stir in i table- 
spoonful flour and Yi teaspoonful mustard. Boil 
up once, and season (Breck). 

Fish Chowder. — Cut the fish into pieces the 
right size for serving, and remove all the bones 
possible. For 5 or 6 lbs. of fish take 3^ lb. clear 
fat salt pork, slice it, and fry moderately. Slice 
two good-sized onions and fry in the fat. Have 
ready ten potatoes pared and sliced. Into your 
largest pot place first a layer of fish, then one of 
potatoes, then some of the fried onion, wath pep- 
per, salt, and a little flour, then a slice or two of 
the pork. Repeat these alternate layers until all 
has been used. Then pour the fat from the fry- 
ing-pan over all. Cover the whole with boiling 
water, and cook from twenty to thirty minutes, 
according to thickness of fish. Five or ten minutes 
before serving, split some hard crackers and dip 
them in cold water (or use stale bread or biscuits 
similarly), add them to the chowder, and pour in 
about a pint of hot milk. 

The advantage of first frying the pork and 
onion is that the fish need not then be cooked over- 
done, which is the case in chowders started with 
raw pork in the bottom of the kettle and boiled. 

Another Fish Chowder. — Clean the fish, parboil 
it, and reserve the water in which it was boiled. 
Place the dry pot on the fire ; when it is hot, throw 
in a lump of butter and about six onions sliced 
finely. When the odor of onion arises, add the 
fish. Cover the pot closely for fish to absorb 
flavor. Add a very small quantity of potatoes, and 
some of the reserved broth. When cooked, let 
each man season his own dish. Ask a blessing and 
eat. CKenealv.X 


Fish Cakes. — Take fish left over from a previous 
meal and either make some mashed potatoes (boil 
them, and mash with butter and milk) or use just 
the plain cold boiled potatoes. Remove bones from 
fish and mince it quite fine. I\Iix well, in propor- 
tion of one-third fish and two-thirds potato. Sea- 
son with salt and pepper. Then mix in thor- 
oughly a well-beaten egg or two (or equivalent of 
desiccated egg). If it seems too dry, add m.ore 
egg. Form into flat cakes about aj/^ x ^ inches, 
and fry with salt pork, or (preferably) in deep 
fat, like doughnuts. 

Fish, Creamed. — See page 337. A good way of 
utilizing fish left over. 

Fish from Muddy Waters. — To clean them 
properly, see directions in Chapter XV. Another 
method is here copied from the Outer's Book: 

" Remove the scales, head, fins and intestines, wash and 
clean well, then place the fish in a large dishpan and pour 
boiling water over them, let them remain in this water for 
one minute, two minutes if the fish are very large, take 
iliem out of the water and remove the skin. When the 
ikin is removed the meat will be clean and free from moss, 
mud or tule taste. All fish caught from lakes or streams 
where fish frequent places where moss or tules grow, will 
.aste of the moss unless they are scaled and the skin re- 
moved; the moss taste is under the scales and in the skin. 
Fish that live in swift running water will not have the 
moss taste, "^nd will not have to be scalded." 

When it is necessary to eat fish caught in muddy 
streams, rub a little salt down the backbone, lay 
them in strong brine tor a couple of hours before 
cooking, and serve with one of the sauces described 
above. Carp should have the gills removed, as they 
are always muddy from burrowing. 

Ed, Broiled. — Skin, clean well with salt to re- 
move slime, slit down the back and remove bone, 
cut into good-sized pieces, rub inside with egg» 
if you have it, roll in cornmeal or dry bread- 
crumbs, season with pepper and salt, and broil to 
a nice brown. Some like a dash of nutmeg with 
tjie seasoning. 


Eel, Stewed. — Skin the eel, remove backbone, 
and cut the eel into pieces about two inches long; 
put in the stew-pan with just enough water to 
Cover, and add a teaspoonful of strong vinegar or 
\'k slice of lemon, cover stew-pan and boil moder- 
ntely until flesh will leave the bones (20 minutes 
to half an hour). Then remove, pour off water, 
iJrain, add fresh water and vinegar as before, and 
iilew until tender. Now drain, add cream enougl; 
for a stew, season with pepper and salt (no butter), 
boil again for a few minutes, and serve on hot, dry 
toast. (Up De Graff.) 

Parsley butter (see page 304) is a good dressing. 
Stew the eel until done, add parsley butter, and 
continue stewing until it thickens and the parsley 
is cooked. 

An eel is too oily for direct frying; but after 
stewing until quite done it may be put in a pan 
and fried to a nice brown. 

A. plain stew is made by adding only a little salt 
and a bit of butter, simmer gently till done, then 
put enough fine bread or cracker crumbs in the 
water to make a thick white sauce. 

Fish Roe. — Parboil (merely simmer) fifteen 
minutes; let them cool and drain; then roll in 
flour, and fr}^ 

Miscellaneous. — Frog Legs. — First, afteri 
skinning, soak them an hour in cold water to w^hich 
vinegar has been added, or put them for two min- 
utes into scalding water that has vinegar in it 
Drain, wipe dry, and cook as below: 

To fry: roll in flour seasoned with salt and pep- 
per and fry, not too rapidly, preferably in butter 
or oil. Water cress is a good relish wnth them. 

To grill: Prepare three tablespoonfuls melted 
butter, one-half teaspoonful salt, and a pinch or 
two of pepper, into which dip the frog legs, then 
T'oll in fresh bread crumbs, and broil for three 
tnlnutes on each side. 

To cream: same process as for codfish (page 336) 
except -ti'r ^ream until simmering, season with pep- 


per, salt, and nutmeg, cover and cook twenty 

Turtles. — All turtles (aquatic) and most tor- 
toises (land) are good to eat, the common snappei 
being far better than he looks. Kill by cutting 
or (readier) shooting the head off. This does not 
kill the brute immediately, of course, but it suf- 
fices. The common way of killing by dropping a 
turtle into boiling water I do not like. Let the 
animal bleed. Then drop into a pot of boiling 
W'ater for a few seconds. After scalding, the outer 
scales of shell, as well as the skin, are easily re- 
moved. Turn turtle on its back, cut down middle 
of under shell from end to end, and then across. 
Throw away entrails, head, and claws. Salt and 
pepper it inside and out. Boil a short time in the 
shell. Remove when the meat has cooked free 
from the shell. Cut up the latter and boil slowly 
for three hours with some chopped onion. If a 
stew is preferred, add some salt pork cut into dice, 
and vegetables. (See page 300.) 

Crayfish. — These are the " craw-feesh!" of our 
streets. Tear off extreme end of tail, bringing the 
entrail w-ith it. Boil whole in salted water till the 
crayfish turns red. Peel and eat as a lobster, dip- 
ping each crayfish 'at a time into a saucer of vinegar, 
pepper, and salt. 

Shellfish.-" Oysters, Stewed. — Oysters should 
not be pierced ivith a fork, but removed from the 
liquor with a spoon. Thoroughly drain the juice 
from a quart of shelled oysters. Add to the juice 
enough wa^er (if needed) to make one-half pint. 
Place juice Bver fire, and add butter the size of a 
walnut, R'imove all scum that arises when the 
juice boils. Put in the oysters. Let them cook 
quickly until the beards wrinkle, but not until 
oysters shrivel — they should remain plump. Add 
two-thirds pint of milk, let all scald through, re- 
move from fire, and season to taste. Never boil 
oystf.Ts in milk. 

Ojnt/'rs. Fried. — Drain the oysters, and dry 


them on a soft cloth (then they will not absorb 
grease). Have some desiccated egg prepared, or 
beat light the yolks of two or three eggs. Have 
enough smoking hot grease in the pan to cover all 
the oysters. Dip an oyster into the egg, then into 
rolled cracker or dry crumbs, and repeat this. Lay 
05'sters in the pan one at a time, so as not to check 
the heat. When one side is brown, turn, and 
brown the other side. Serve piping hot. 

Oysters, Scalloped. — Cover bottom of greased 
bake-pan with a layer of drained oysters, dot 
thickly over with small bits of butter, then cover 
with finely crumbled stale bread, and sprinkle with 
pepper and salt. Repeat these layers until the pan 
is full, with bread and butter for top layer. The 
bread crumbs must be in very thin layers. Bake 
in reflector or oven until nicely browned. 

Oysters, Saute. — Drain the oysters. Melt a lit- 
tle butter in the frying-pan, and cook the oysters 
in it. Salt when removed from pan. 

Oysters, Roasted. — Put oysters unopened on 
broiler, and hold over the coals. When they open, 
put a little melted butter and some white pepper 
on each oyster, and they are read3^ 

Clams, Baked. — Lay down a bed of stones in 
disk shape, and build a low wall almost around it, 
forming a rock oven open at the top. Build a 
big fire in it and keep it going until the wood has 
burned down to embers and the stones are very 
hot. Rake out all smoking chunks. Throw a 
layer of sea-weed over the embers, and lay the 
clams quickly on this. Roasting ears in the husks, 
or sweet potatoes, are a desirable addition. Cover 
all with another layer of sea-weed, and let steam 
about forty minutes, or until clams will slip in the 
shell. Uncover and serve with melted butter, pep- 
per, salt, and perhaps lemon or vinegar. 

ClaTn Choivder. — Wash the clams, put them in 
a kettle, and pour over them just enough boiling 
water to cover them. When the shells open, pour 
off the liquor, saving it, cool the clams, and shell 


them. Fry two or three slices of pork in bottom 
of kettle. When it is done, pour over it two quarts 
of boiling clam liquor. Add six large potatoes, 
sliced thin, and cook until nearly done. Turn in 
the clams, and a quart of hot milk. Season with 
salt and pepper. When this boils up, add crackers 
or stale bread, as in fish chowder. Remove from 
fire and let crackers steam in the covered pot until 

Fried sliced onion and a can of tomatoes will 
improve this chowder. Cloves, allspice, red pep- 
per, Worcestershire sauce, and other condiments, 
may be added according to taste. 

Shellfish, Steamed. — See page 301. 

Crabsj Deviled. — Boil hard-shell crabs a few 
minutes until red. Remove the back shells, and 
shred out the white meat. Meantime make a paste 
of flour rubbed up in cold water, to which add a 
few drops of olive oil and some chopped green pep- 
pers. Mix swiftly with the crab meat, add a dash 
of cayenne, and stuff back into the shells. Bake 
until done. (Fortiss.) 


Cured Meats, Etc. — Eggs 

Bacon, Frkd. — Slice quite thin. Remove the 
rind, as it not only is unsightly but makes the 
slices curl up in the pan. Put pan half full of 
water on fire; when water is warm, drop the bacon 
in, and stir around until water begins to simmer. 
Then remove bacon, throw out water, ivy over 
very few coals, and turn often. Remove slices 
while still translucent, and season with pepper. 
They will turn crisp on cooling. Some prefer not 
to parboil. 

Bacon, Broiled. — Slice as above. Turn broiler 
repeatedly until bacon is of a light brown colon, 
Time, three to four minutes. 

Bacon, Boiled. — Put in enough cold water to 
just cover. Bring to a boil very gradually. Re- 
move all scum as it arises. Simmer gently until 
thoroughly done. Two pounds take i]^ hours; 
each additional pound, ^ hour. 

Bacon, Toasted. — Cut cold boiled bacon into 
thin slices. Sprinkle each with fine bread crumbs 
peppered with cayenne. Toast quickly in wire 

Bacon and Eggs. — Poach or fry the eggs and lay 
them on fried bacon. 

Bacon Omelet. — See Ham Omelet, near end of 

Bacon Gravy, Thin. — Pour off the fat and save 
it for future use. Pour in enough water to supply 
the quantity of gravy desired. Add the juice of a 
lemon. Boil and pour upon the bacon. If a 



richer gravy is desired, follow recipe given below. 

Pork Gravy, Thickened. — This can be made 
v\nth ham or salt pork, as well as with bacon. To 
make gravy that is a good substitute for butter, 
rub into the hot grease that is left in the pan 2 
tablespoonful of flour, keep on rubbing until 
smooth and brown; then add two cups boiling 
water and a dash of pepper. A tablespoonful of 
catchup may be added for variet5\ If you have 
milk, use it instead of water (a pint to the heap' 
ing tablespoonful of flour), and do not let the 
flour brown ; this makes a delicious white gravy. 

Salt Pork, Fried. — Same as fried bacon, above. 
Pork should be firm and dr}^ Clammy pork is 

Salt Pork, Broiled. — Same as bacon ; but it is 
usually so salty that it should be parboiled first, 
or soaked at least an hour in cold water. 

Salt Pork, Boiled. — Nearly always cooked with 
vegetables or greens; hence need not be soaked 
or parboiled. See page 299. 

Pork Fritters. — Make a thick batter of corn- 
meal one-third and flour two-thirds, or of flour 
alone. Fry a few slices of salt pork or bacon until 
the fat is tried out. Then cut a few more slices, 
dip them in the batter, drop them in the bubbling 
fat, season with salt and pepper, fry to a light 
brown, and eat while hot. It takes the stomach 
of a lumberjack to digest this, but it is a favorite 
variant in frontier diet. 

Pork and Hardtack. — Soak hardtack in water 
until it is partly softened. Drop it into hot pork 
fat, and cook. A soldier's resource. 

Hajn, Fried. — Same as bacon. Parboil, first, 
for eight or ten minutes, if hard and salty. 

Ham and Fggs. — Same as bacon and eggs. 

Ham, Broiled. — If salty, parboil first. Cut 
rather thick slices, pepper them, and broil five min- 
utes. Ham that has been boiled is best for broil- 
ing. A little mustard may be spread on the slices 
when served. 


Ham, Boiled. — Wash the ham, and let it soak 
over night in cold water. In the morning, cover 
it well with fresh water, bring to a boil, and hang 
the kettle high over the fire where it will boil 
gently until dinner time. When the bone on the 
under side leaves the meat readily, the ham is done. 
If you have eggs, the nicest way to serve a boiled 
ham is to remove the skin, brush over the top of 
ham with yolk of egg, sprinkle thickly with finely 
grated crumbs or cracker-dust, and brown in an 

Ham and Macaroni, — " Boil an inch-thick slice 
of ham half an hour, at the same time boiling the 
required amount of macaroni in salted water. 
When the macaroni is done, drain off the water and 
put in a baking dish and pour over it a can of 
tomatoes, which should be seasoned with salt and 
pepper. Place slice of ham on top, and bake half 
an hour. A little grated cheese is an improvement 
when mixed with the macaroni, before adding the 
tomatoes." {Arthur Chapman.) 

Ham Chow. — Slice the required amount of po- 
tatoes in thin slices, season with salt and pepper^ 
and place in baking dish. Add one can of toma- 
toes. Cover and cook for an hour. Then place 
slices of boiled ham, or some well seasoned chops, 
over the potato and tomato mixture, return ^o the 
oven without the cover, and bake half an hour. 
Thinly sliced bacon will take the place of ham or 
chops, but must only be left in the oven a few 
minutes. (Same.) 

Pork Sausages. — Cut links apart, prick each 
with a fork so it will not burst in cooking, and 
broil on forked stick; or, lay in cold frying-pan, 
and fry fifteen to twenty minutes over a slow fire, 
moving them about so they will brown evenly all 
over. Serve with mashed potatoes, over which 
pour the fat from the pan. Apples fried to a light 
brown in the sausage grease are a pleasant accom- 

Corned Beef, Boiled. — Put the ham mto ^enough 


cold water to cover it. Let it come slowly to a 
boil, and then merely simmer until done. Time, 
about one-half hour to each pound. Vegetables 
may be added toward the end, as directed on page 
299. If not to be used until the next day, leave 
the meat in its liquor, weighted down under the 
surface by a clean rock. 

Corned Beef Hash. — Chop some canned corned 
beef fine with sliced onions. Hash up with freshly 
boiled potatoes, two parts potatoes to one of meat. 
Season highly with pepper (no salt), and some 
mustard if liked. Put a little pork fat in a frying- 
pan, melt, add hash, and cook until nearly dry 
and a brown crust has formed. Dehydrated pota- 
toes and onions can be used according to directions 
on packages. 

Stew luith Canned Meat. — Peel and slice some 
Onions. If the meat has much fat, melt it ; if not, 
melt a little pork fat. Add onions, and fry until 
brown. Mix some flour into a smooth batter with 
cold water, season with pepper and salt, and pour 
into the camp kettle. Stir the whole well together. 
Cut meat into slices, put into the kettle, and heat 

Lobscouse. — Boil corned beef as above (if very 
salty, parboil first, and then change the water), 
.^^bout thirty minutes before it is done add sliced 
V^otatoes and hardtack. 

SluTugullion. — When the commissariat is re- 
duced to bacon, corned beef, and hardtack, try this 
sailor's dish, described by Jack London: Fry half 
d dozen slices of bacon, add fragments of hard- 
tack, then two cups of water, and stir briskly over 
the fire; in a few minutes mix in with it slices 
of canned corned beef; season well with peppei 
and salt. 

Dried Beef, Creamed. — Slice 3 oz. of dried beef 
into thin shavings, or chop fine. Pour over it a 
pint of boiling water, and let it stand two minutes. 
Turn off water, and drain beef dry. Heat a 
heaped tablespoonful of butter in *:he frying-pan; 


then add the beef. Cook three minutes, stirring all 
the time. Then pour on 34 pi^^t cold milk. Mix 
4 tablespoonfuls milk with i teaspoonful flour, and 
stir into the beef in the pan. Add an egg, if you 
have it. Cook two minutes longer and serve at 

Canned Meats. — Never eat any that has been 
left standing open in the can. It is dangerous. 
If any has been left over, remove it to a clean 
vessel and keep in a cool place. 

Canned corned beef and the like should not be 
eaten cold out of the can if you can help it. Place 
the can in water and boil it about ten minutes: the 
meat is more wholesome this way. 

Cured Venison. — " Cut off the worst of the 
blackened casing and slice into steaks an inch thick. 
Dredge these with flour, salt, and pepper, and lay 
in hot bacon grease in a frying-pan. Pour in a 
small cup of water, cover tightly, and allow to 
steam until the water is gone. Then remove the 
cover, and brown." {Kathrene Pinkerton.) 

Cured Fish. — Salt Fish requires from twelve 
to thirty-six hours' soaking, flesh downward, in cold 
water before cooking, depending on the hardness 
and dryness of the fish. Change the water two or 
three times to remove surplus salt. Start in cold 
water, then, and boil until the flesh parts from the 
bones. When done, cover with bits of butter, or 
serve with one of the sauces given in the chapter 
on Fish. 

Broiled Salt Fish. — Freshen the flakes of fish 
by soaking in cold water. Broil over the coals, and 
serve with potatoes. 

Stewed Codfish. — Soak over night in plenty of 
cold water, or one hour in tepid water. Put in 
pot of fresh, cold water, and heat gradually until 
soft. Do not boil the fish or it will get hard. 
Serve with boiled potatoes, and with white sauce 
made as directed under Fish. 

(2) Put two tablespoonfuls of butter in a pan; 
when melted add one tablespoonful of flour, stir' 


ring constantly; then a cup of rich milk and somp 
pepper; then half a pint of desiccated codfish. Stir 
until boiling. Serve on toast, if you have light 

Codfish Hash. — Prepare salt codfish as above, 
When soft, mash with potatoes and onions, season 
with pepper, and fry like corned beef hash. 

Codfish Balls. — Shred the fish into small pieces. 
Peel some potatoes. Use one pint of fish to one 
quart of raw potatoes. Put them in a pot, cover 
with boiling water, cook till potatoes are soft, 
drain water off, mash fish and potatoes together, 
and beat light with a fork. Add a tablespoonful 
of butter and season with pepper. Shape into flat- 
tened balls, and fry in very hot fat deep enough 
to cover. 

Smoked Herrings. — (i) Clean, and remove the 
skin. Toast on a stick over the coals. 

(2) Scald in boiling water till the skin curia 
up, then remove head, tail, and skin. Clean well. 
Put into frying-pan with a little butter or lard. 
Fry gently a few minutes, dropping in a little 

Smoked Sprats. — Lay them on a slightly greased 
plate and set them in an oven until heated through. 

Canned Salmon, Creamed. — Cut into dice. 
Heat about a pint of them in one-half pint milk. 
Season with salt and Cayenne pepper. Cold cooked 
fish of any kind can be served in this w^a)^ 

Canned Salmon, Scalloped. — Rub two teaspoon- 
fuls of butter and a tablespoonful of flour together. 
Stir this into boiling milk. Cut two pounds of 
canned salmon into dice. Put a layer of the sauce 
in bottom of a dish, then a layer of salmon. 
Sprinkle with salt, Cayenne pepper, and grated 
bread crumbs. Repeat alternate layers until dish 
is full, having the last layer sauce, which is sprinkled 
with crumbs and bits of butter. Bake in very hot 
oven untrl browned (about ten minutes). 

Canned Salmon on Toast. — Dip slices of stale 
bread in smoking-hot lard,. They will brown at 


once. Drain them. Heat a pint of salmon, picked 
into flakes, season with salt and Cayenne, and turn 
into it a cupful of melted butter. Heat in pan. Stir 
in one egg, beaten light, with three tablespoonfuls 
evaporated milk not thinned. Pour the mixture on 
the fried bread. 

Sardines on Toast. — Fry them and give them a 
dash of red pepper. They are better if wiped free 
of oil, dipped into whipped egg, sprinkled thickly 
with cracker crumbs, fried, and served on buttered 

(2) Drain and remove skins from one dozen 
sardines, put a tablespoonful of butter in the pan, 
with two teaspoonfuls anchovy paste, and a little 
tabasco. Lay the sardines carefully in the pan. 
When well heated through, serve each on a tiny 
strip of toast. 

Eggs. — 

Desiccated Egg. — The baker's egg mentioned in 
the chapter on Provisions is in granules about the 
size of coarse sand. It is prepared for use by first 
soaking about two hours in cold or one hour in luke- 
warm water. Hot water must not be used. Solu- 
tion can be quickened by occasional stirring. The 
proportion is one tablespoonful of egg to two of 
water, which is about the equivalent of one fresh egg. 
Use just like fresh eggs in baking, etc., and for 
scrambled eggs or omelets. Of course, the desic- 
cated powder cannot be fried, boiled, or poached. 

Fried Eggs. — Have the frying-pan scrupulously 
clean. Put in just enough butter, dripping, or 
other fat, to prevent the eggs sticking. Break an 
egg with a smart but gentle crack on the side of a 
cup, and drop it in the cup without breaking yolk. 
Otherwise you might drop a bad one in the pan and 
spoil the whole mess. Pour the egg slowly into the 
pan so that the albumen thickens over the yolk in-' 
stead of spreading itself out like a pancake. The 
fire should be moderate. In two or three minute? 
they will be done. Eggs fried longer than this, or 
on both side§8 are, leathery and unwholesomcc 


Scrambled Eggs. — Put into a well-greased pan 
as many eggs as it will hold separately, each yolk 
being whole. When the w^hites have begun to set, 
stir from bottom of pan until done (buttery, not 
leathery). Add a piece of butter, pepper, and salt. 
Another way is to beat the eggs with a spoon. To 
five eggs add one-fourth teaspoonful salt. Heat one 
tablespoonful butter in the frying-pan. Stir in the 
eggs, and continue stirring until eggs set. Before 
they toughen, turn them out promptly into a warm 

Scrambled Eggs, Fancy, — After turning in five 
eggs as above, add a cupful of canned tomatoes, 
drained and chopped quite fine ; or, chopped ham or 
bacon instead of tomatoes. 

Plain Omelet. — It is better to make two or three 
small omelets than to attempt one large one. 
Scrape the pan and wipe it dry after each omelet 
is made. Use little salt: it keeps the eggs from 
rising. Heat the fat in the pan very gradually, but 
get it hot almost to the browning point. 

Beat four eggs just enough to break them well; 
or, break into a bowl with four tablespoonfuls milk, 
and w^hip thoroughly. Add a little salt. Put two 
heaped teaspoonfuls of butter in the pan and heat 
as above. Pour egg into pan, and tilt the pan 
forward so that the egg flows to the far side. As 
soon as the egg begins to set, draw it up to the 
raised side of the pan with a knife. Beginning 
then at the left hand, turn the egg over in small 
folds until the lower part of the pan is reached, and 
the omelet has been rolled into a complete fold. 
Let the omelet rest a few seconds, and then turn out 
into a hot dish. Work rapidly throughout, so that 
the omelet is creamy instead of tough. It should 
be of a rich yellow color. 

Ham Omelet. — Cut raw ham into dice. Fry. 
Turn the beaten eggs over it and cook as above. 
Bacon can be used instead of ham. 

Fancy Omelets. — Take tender meat, game, fish, 
or vegetable, hash it fine, heat it in white sauce 


(see page 325), and spread this over the omelet 
before you begin to fold it; or they can be put in 
with the eggs. Jam, jelly, or preserved fruit may 
be used in a similar way (two tablespoonfuls, say, 
of marmalade to six eggs). 

Rum Omelet. — Beat three eggs, add a very small 
pinch of salt, a teaspoonful of powdered sugar, a 
slice of butter, and a tablespoonful of rum. Fry 
as described above. Lay the omelet on a hot dish, 
pour around it one-half tumberful of rum that has 
been warmed in a pan, light it, and serve with its 
blue flame rising round it. 

Poached Eggs. — Put a pint of water in the fry- 
ing pan, with one-half teaspoonful of salt. If you 
have vinegar, add two teaspoonfuls to the water: 
it keeps the whites from running too much. Bring 
the water to a gentle boil. Break the eggs sep- 
arately into a saucer and slide them into the water 
Let the water simmer not longer than three minutes, 
meantime ladling spoonfuls of it over the yolks. 
Have toast already buttered on a very hot plate. 
Lay eggs carefully on it. Eat at once. This may 
be varied by moistening the toast with hot milk. 

Eggs, Boiled. — Eggs are boiled soft in two and 
one-half to three minutes, depending upon size and 
freshness. If wanted hard boiled, put them in cold 
water, bring to a boil, and keep it up for twenty 
minutes. The yolk will then be mealy and whole- 
iome. Eggs boiled between these extremes are 
either clammy or tough, and indigestible. To boil 
eggs, soft, if you have no watch : put them in cold 
water and set the pot over the fire. Watch the 
water; when it begins to sing slightly, or when the 
first little bubbles arise, the eggs are done to a turn. 

Eggs, Roasted. — This can be done by covering 
the eggs with hot ashes and embers, but the shells 
must be cracked a little at one end to prevent them 

Eggs, Stirred. — Make half a cup of rich gravy. 
Melt a tablespoon of butter in a pan and add the 
^riivv. When hissing hot. stir in five beaten pcrcrs' 


until they thicken. Season with half a teaspoonful 
of salt, a dash of pepper, sprinkle with parsley, and 
serve on toast- 



Breadstuffs and Cereals 

When men must bake for themselves they gen- 
erally make biscuit, biscuit-loaf, flap-jacks, or corn 
bread. Bread leavened with yeast is either beyond 
their skill or too troublesome to make out of doors; 
so baking powder is the mainstay of the camp. 
Generally the batch is a failure. To paraphrase 
Tom Hood, 

Who has not met with camp-made bread, 
Rolled out of putty and weighted with lead? 

It need not be so. Just as good biscuit or johnny 
cake can be baked before a log fire in the woods as 
m a kitchen range. Bread making is a chemical 
process. Follow directions; pay close attention to 
details, as a chemist does, from building the fire to 
testing the loaf with a sliver. It does require ex- 
perience or a special knack to guess quantities ac- 
curately, but none at all to measure them. 

In general, biscuit or other small cakes should be 
baked quickly by ardent heat ; large loaves require 
a slow, even heat, so that the outside will not harden 
until the inside is nearly done. 

The way to bake in a reflector or in a '' baker " 
has been shown in the chapter on Meats. If you 
have neither of these utensils, there are other ways. 

Baking in a Dutch Oven. — This is a cast-iron 
pot with flaring sides and short legs, fitted with a 
thick iron cover, the rim of which is turned up to 



hold a layer of coals on top. If it were not for it; 
weight it would be the best oven for outdoor use, 
since it not only bakes but cooks the meat or pone 
in its own steam. 

Place the Dutch oven and its lid separately or. 
the fire. Get the bottom moderately hot, and the 
lid very hot (but not red, lest it warp). Grease 
the bottom and sprinkle flour over it, put in the 
bread or biscuits, set cover on, rake a thin layer of 
coals out in front of the fire, stand oven on them, 
and cover lid thickly witii more live coals. Re- 
plenish occasionally. Have a stout pot-hook to lift 
lid with, so you can inspect progress of baking once 
or twice. 

The sheet-steel oven mentioned in Chapter VII 
can be used in a similar way, or one of the pots 
made for fireless cookers, or a pudding pan inverted 
over a slightly smaller one ; but with such thin uten- 
sils you must use a more moderate heat, of course, 
and watch the baking carefully lest you burn it. 

Baking in a Kettle. — Every fixed camp that has 
no stove should have a bake-hole, if for nothing else 
than baking beans. The hole can be dug anywhere, 
but it is best in the side of a bank or knoll, so that 
an opening can be left in front to rake out of, and 
for drainage in case of rain. Line it with stones, 
as they hold heat and keep the sides from crumbling. 
Have the completed hole a little larger than youi 
baking kettle. 

Build a hardwood fire in and above the hole ani 
keep it going until the stones or earth are very 
hot (not less than half an hour). Rake out most 
of the coals and ashes, put in the oake-pot, which 
must have a tight-fitting lid, cover with ashes and 
then w^ith live coals; and, if a long heating is re- 
quired, keep a small fire going on top. Close the 
mouth of the oven with a flav rock. This is the 
way for beans or for braising meat. 

Bread is not to be baked in the kettle alone, be-* 
cause the sides are vertical and you would have a 
sweet time getting the bread out; but if you have a 


pudding-pan that will go inside the kettle, well and 
good. Put three or four pebbles in the bottom of 
the kettle for the pan to rest on, so the dough will 
not burn. 

A shifty camper can make bread in almost any 
thing. I have even baked beans to perfection in 9 
thin, soldered lard-pail, by first encasing it in clay. 

Baking in the Ashes. — Build a good fire on a 
level bit of ground. When it has burned to coals 
and the ground has thoroughly heated, rake aw^ay 
the embers, lightly drop the loaf on the hot earth, 
pat it smooth, rake the embers back over the loaf 
(some hot ashes first), and let it bake until no 
dough will adhere to a sliver thrust to the center 
of the loaf. This is the Australian damper. Ash 
cakes are similarly baked (see page 352). Dirty? 
No it isn't; try it. 

Baking in a Frying-pan. — Grease or flour a fry- 
ing-pan and put a flat cake of biscuit-dough in it. 
Rake some embers out in front of the fire and put 
pan on them just long enough to form a little crust 
on bottom of loaf. Then remove frorri embers, and, 
with a short forked stick, the stub of which will 
enter hole in end of handle, prop pan up before fire 
at such angle that top of loaf will be exposed to heat. 
Tu^n loaf now and then, both sidewise and upside 
down. When firm enough to keep its shape, re- 
move it, prop it by itself before the fire to finish 
baking, and go on with a fresh loaf. A tin plate 
may be used in place of the frying-pan. 

If you have in your kit a shallow pudding-pan 
of the right size, invert it over the dough in the pan 
and heap embers on top ; or a second frying-pan can 
be used in the same way. Another way, with one 
pan and no cover, is described by Kathrene Pinker- 

" Make a rich, moist baking-powder biscuit dough, 
using double the amount of lard. The dough should be 
so thin it can be smoothed with a knife. Heat a little lard 
in a frying-pan and pour in the dough. A bannock 
should never be baked in less than twenty-five minutes. 


With a good cooking fire, the pan should be held thr e feet 
above the blaze until the bannock has risen to twice its 
original height. Then lower the pan and brown. Shake 
the pan occasionally to see that the bannock is not burning. 
When one side is done, slide the bannock onto a plate, heat 
more lard in the pan, gently replace the bannock upside 
down and brown again. The result is a golden-browo 

Baking on a Slab. — Heat a thick slab of non- 
resinous green wood until the sap simmers. Then 
proceed as with a frying-pan. 

Baking on a Stick. — Work dough into a ribbon 
two inches wide. Get a club of sweet green wood 
(birch, sassafras, maple), about two feet long and 
three inches thick, peel large end, sharpen the other 
and stick it into ground, leaning toward fire. 
When sap simmers wind dough spirally around 
peeled end. Turn occasionally. Several sticks can 
be baking at once. Bread for one man's meal can 
be quickly baked on a peeled stick as thick as a 
broomstick, holding over fire and turning. This is 
*' corkscrew bread." 

Clay Oven. — In fixed camp, if you have no oven, 
f. good substitute can soon be made in a clay bank 
or steep knoll near by. Dig down the bank to a 
vertical front. Back from this front, about 4 
feet, drive a 4 or 5-inch stake down to what will 
be the bottom level of the oven. Draw the stake 
out, thus leaving a hole for flue. It is best to drive 
the stake before excavating, as otherwise it might 
cause the roof of your oven to cave in from the 
shock of driving. Now, from the bottom of the 
face, dig a horizontal hole back to the flue, keeping 
the entrance as small as you can, but enlarging the 
interior and arching its top. When the oven is fin- 
ished, wpt the whole interior, smooth it, and build 
a small fire in the oven to gradually dry and harden 

To bake in such an oven : build a good fire in it of 
split hardwood sticks, and keep it burning hard fcr 
an hour or tvso; then rake out the embers, lay your 
^Jough on broad gre'^.n leaves (basswood- ^'-om 


choice) or on the naked floor, and close both the 
door arid the flue with flat stones or bark. 

If no bank or knoll lies handy, build a form foi 
your oven by first setting up a row of green-stick 
arches, like exaggerated croquet wickets, one behind 
the other, and cover with sticks laid on horizontally 
like a roof. At the rear, set up a round stake as 
core for the chimney. Now plaster wet clay thickly 
over all except the door. Let this dry naturally foi 
a day in hot sunlight, or build a very small fire 
within and feed it only as needed to keep up a 
moderate heat. When the clay has hardened, give 
it another coating, to fill up the cracks that have 
appeared. Then give it a final firing. 

To Mix Dough Without a Pan. — When bark 
will peel, use a broad sheet of it (paper birch, bass- 
wood, poplar, Cottonwood, slippery elm, etc.). It ij 
easy to mix unleavened dough in the sack of flour 
itself. Stand the latter horizontally where it can't 
fall over. Scoop a bowl-shaped depression in top 
of flour. Keep the right hand moving round while 
you pour in a little water at a time from a vessel 
held in the left. Sprinkle a little salt in. When a 
thick, adhesive dough has formed, lift this out and 
pat and work it into a round cake about 2^ inches 

Wheat Bread and Biscuits. — When baking 
powder is used, the secret of good bread is to handle 
the dough as little as possible. After adding the 
water, mix as rapidly as you can, not with the warm 
hands, but with a big spoon or a wooden paddle. 
To knead such bread, or roll it much, or even to 
mould biscuits by hand instead of cutting them out, 
would surely make your baking " sad." As soon as 
water touches the flour, the baking powder begins 
to give off gas. It is this gas, imprisoned in the 
dough, that makes bread light. Squeezing or 
moulding presses this gas out. The heat of the 
hands turns such dough into Tom Hood's " putty.' 

Biscuit Loaf. — This is a standard camp bread, 
because it bakes quickly. It is good so long as it 


is not, but it dries out soon and will not keep. For 
four men : 

3 pints flour, 

3 heaping teaspoonfuls baking powder, 

1 heaping teaspoonful sah, 

2 heaping tablespoonfuls cold grease, 
I scant pint cold water. 

Amount of water varies according to quality of 
flour. Baking powders vary in strength; follow 
directions on can. 

Mix thoroughly, w^ith big spoon or wooden pad- 
dle, first the baking powder with the flour, and 
then the salt. Rub into this the cold grease (which 
may be lard, cold pork fat, drippings, or bear's 
grease), until there are no lumps left and no grease 
adhering to bottom of pan. This is a little tedious, 
but don't shirk it. Then stir in the water and work 
it w^ith spoon until you have a rather stiff dough. 
Have the pan greased. Turn the loaf into it, and 
bake. Test center of loaf with a sliver when you 
think it probably done. When no dough adheres, 
remove bread. All hot breads should be broken 
with the hands, never cut. 

To freshen any that is left over and dried out, 
sprinkle a little water over it and heat through. 
This can be done but once. 

Biscuit. — These are baked in a reflector (i 2-inch 
holds I dozen, 1 8-inch holds i^ dozen), unless a 
camp stove is carried or an oven is dug. Build the 
fire high. Make dough as in the preceding recipe, 
which is enough for two dozen biscuits, i^lop the 
mass of dough to one side of pan, dust flour on bot- 
tom of pan, flop dough back over it, dust flour on 
top of loaf. Now rub some flour over the bread 
board, flour your hands, and gently lift loaf on 
board. Flour the bottle or bit of peeled sapling 
that you use as rolling-pin, also the edges of can or 
can cover used as biscuit cutter. Gently roll loaf 
to three-quarter-inch thickness. Stamp out the 
biscuit and lay them in pan. Roll out the culls and 
cnake biscuit of them, too. Bake until enee oi front 


row turns brown ; reverse pan and continue until 
rear row is similarly done. Time, twenty to 
twenty-five minutes in a reflector, ten to fifteen 
minutes in a closed oven. 

Dropped Biscuit. — These do away with bread- 
board, rolling-pin, and most of the work, yet are 
about as good as stamped biscuit. Use same pro- 
portions as above, except turn in enough water to 
make a thick batter — one that will drop lazily 
from a spoon. In mixing, do not stir the batter 
more than necessary to smooth out all lumps. Drop 
from a big spoon into the greased bake-pan. 

Army Bread. — This is easier to make than biscuit 
dough, since there is no grease to rub in, but it takes 
longer to bake. It keeps fresh longer than yeast 
bread, does not dry up in a week, nor mould, and 
is more wholesome than biscuit. It is the only 
baking-powder bread I know of that is good to eat 
cold — in fact, it is best that way. 

1 quart flour, 

I teaspoonful salt, 

I tablespoonful sugar, 

z heaped teaspoonfuls baking powder. 

Mix the dry ingredients thoroughly. Then stir 
In enough cold water (about i^ pints) to make a 
thick batter that will pour out level. Mix rapidly 
with spoon until smooth, and pour at once into 
bake-pan. Bake about forty-five minutes, or until 
no dough adheres to a sliver. Above quantity 
makes a i^-pound loaf (say 9x5x3 inches). 

For variety, substitute for the sugar two or thret- 
tablespoonfuls of molasses, and add one to two tea' 
spoonfuls of ginger. 

Breakfast Rolls. — 

1 quart flour, 

2 level tablespoonfuls butter, 
I egg, 

I teaspoonful baking powder, 

1 pint cold milk (or enough to make a soft dough). 

Rub butter and flour well together, add beaten 


egg, a pinch of salt, and the milk, till a soft dough 
is mixed. Form into rolls and bake quickly. 

Salt-rising Bread. — This smells to heaven while 
it is fermenting, but is a welcome change after a 
long diet of baking-powder breadstulis. For a 
baking of two or three loaves take about a pint of 
moderately warm water (a pleasant heat to the 
hand) and stir into it as much flour as will make a 
good batter, not too thick. Add to this one-half 
teaspoonful salt, not more. Set the vessel in a pan 
of moderately warm water, within a little distance 
of a fire, or in sunlight. The water must not be 
allowed to cool much below the original heat, more 
vvarm^ water being added to pan as required. 

In six to eight hours the whole will be in active 
fermentation, when the dough must be mixed with 
it, and as much warm water (milk, if you have it) 
as you require. Knead the mass till it is tough and 
does not stick to the board. Make up your loaves^ 
and keep them warmly covered near the fire till 
they rise. They must be baked as soon as this sec- 
ond rising takes place ; for, unless the rising is used 
immediately on reaching its height, it sinks to rise 
no more. 

Sour-dough Bread. — Mix a pail of batter from 
plain flour and w^ater, and hang it up in a warm 
place until the batter sours. Then add salt and 
soda (not baking powder) and a spoonful of sugar, 
thicken with flour to a stiff dough, knead thor- 
oughly, work into small loaves, and place them 
before the fire to rise. Then bake. 

The following is by Mrs. Pinkerton; 

" The sour-dough can ranks high in the Hst of woods 
time-savers. It is easy to manipulate, will supply yeast 
for both cakes and bread, and requires only one start, for 
it improves with age. Our sour-dough pail has now been 
going continuously for nine months and is getting betiei 
all the time. 

" To make the ' sourings,' stir two cups of flour, two 
tablespoons of sugar and one of salt in sufficient water 
to make a creamy batter. Stir in a tablespoonful of vin- 
egar and set near a fire or in the sun to sour. One author 


has said ' it requires a running start of thirty-six hours.' 
Two days' souring is better. Do not be dismayed by the 
odor. The woods axiom is, ' the sourer the better,' and it 
will not be at its best the first few days. Its great ad- 
vantage for campers lies in the fact that it will raise either 
bread or pancakes in any temperature above freezing. 

" Pancakes should be set in the evening. Beat until 
smooth ; water and flour in proper proportions for batter. 
Stir this into the ' sourings ' in the sour dough can. This 
rises overnight. In the morning the amount of batter 
necessary for breakfast should be taken out, leaving 
enough A^east for the next day. Into enough batter for 
two we stir two tablespoons of molasses, one teaspoon of 
salt, and one half teaspoon of soda, the last two dissolved 
in hot water. Then, small cakes are better and more 
easily handled than those the size of the frying pan. 

" A quick, hot fire is necessary for pancakes, although, 
when frying in a pan, care must be taken or they will 
burn. Once a cake has burned to the pan you may as well 
stop and clean the pan thoroughly or every succeeding 
cake will be spoiled. 

" Uneaten pancakes should be broken up and dropped 
into the sourings. It improves the cakes. Some woods- 
men are almost superstitious about the mixture, and, with 
them, the sour dough pail rivals the garbage can as a re- 
ceptacle for uneaten foods. When the yeast loses its sour- 
ness from overwork a tablespoon of vinegar will revive it. 
The ' sourings ' can be carried in a pail or in a push-top 
tin. If you use the latter be sure to allow plenty of room 
for expansion. VVe still carry '^n a blanket evidences of 
too active ' sourings.' " 

To Raise Bread in a Pot. — Set the dough to rise 
over a very few embers, keeping the pot turned as 
the loaf rises. When equally risen all around, put 
hot ashes under the pot and upon the lid, taking 
care that the heat be not too fierce at first. 

Lungwort Bread. — On the bark of maples, and 
sometimes of beeches and birches, in the northern 
woods, there grows a green, broad-leaved lichen 
variously known as lungwort, liverwort, lung- 
lichen, and lung-moss, which is an excellent sub- 
stitute for yeast. This is an altogether different 
growth from the plants commonly called lung- 
wort and liverwort — I believe its scientific name 
is Sticta pulmonacea. This I'chen is partly made 
up of fungus, which does the business of raising 


dough. Gather a little of it and steep it over night 
in lukewarm water, set near the embers, but not 
near enough to get overheated. In the morning, 
pour off the infusion and mix it with enough Hour 
to make a batter, beating it up with a spoon. Place 
this " sponge " in a warm can or pail, cover with a 
cloth, and set it near the fire to work. By evening 
it will have risen. Leaven your dough with this 
(saving some of the sponge for a future baking), 
let the bread rise before the fire that night, and by 
mornmg it w^U be ready to bake. 

It takes but little of the original sponge to leaven 
a large mass of dough (but see that it never 
freezes), and it can be kept good for months. 

Unleavened Bread. — Quickly made, wholesome, 
and good for a change. Keeps like hardtack. 

2^ pints flour, 
, I tablespoonful salt (scant), 

I tablespoonful sugar. 

Mix with water to stiff dough, and knead and 
pull until lively. Roll out thin as a soda cracker, 
score w>th knife, and bake. Unleavened bread that 
is to be carried for a long time must be mixed with 
as little water as possible (merely dampened enough 
to make it adhere), for if any moisture is left in it 
after baking, it will mould. 

A teaspoonful of lard worked in with the floui 
improves the taste, but the bread will not keep for- 
ever, as it would without the lard. If lard is used, 
you may as well make a good imitation of Maryland 
biscuit while you are about it. Lay the dough out 
on a board and beat it lustily with a paddle until it 
becomes elastic, then bake. 

Dough Gods. — '' Take ^ cupful of flour, I 
small teaspoonful of baking powder, ^4 teaspoonful 
of salt, and a slice of fat bacon minced fine as pos- 
sible. Mix thoroughly in your bread-pan and add 
water slowly, stirring and w^orking till you have a 
tairly stiff dough. Flour the loaf, top and bottom, 
flour your hands and pat the dough out into a couple 


of big cakes about half an inch thick. Bake in the 
ashes, or in the frying-pan, . . . This is the old way 
of baking with bacon instead of rendered grease or 
lard, used by men who carried nothing they could do 
without, and whose only food staples were flour, 
bacon, baking-powder, and salt." {Edivard Cave.) 

Corn Bread. — Plain corn bread, without flour, 
milk, or egg, is hard to make eatable without a 
Dutch oven to bake it in. Even so, it is generally 
spoiled by being baked too fast and not long enough 
to be done inside. 

Corn Pone. — 

I quart meal, 
I teaspoonful salt, 

I pint i.varm (but not scalding) water (ij^ pints for 
old meal). 

Stir together until light. Bake to a nice brown 
all around (about forty-five minutes), and let it 
sweat fifteen minutes longer in the closed oven, 
removed from the fire. Yellow meal generally re- 
quires more water than white. Freshly ground 
meal is much better than old. 

Corn Dodgers. — Same as above, but mix to a 
stiff dough, and form into cylindrical dodgers four 
or five inches long and i}4 inches diameter, by roll- 
ing between the hands. Have frying-pan very hot, 
grease it a little, and put dodgers on as you roll 
them out. As soon as they have browned, pu^t them 
in oven and bake thoroughly. 

Ash Cake. — Same kind of dough. Form it intc 
balls as big as hen's eggs, roll in dry flour, lay in hot 
ashes, and cover completely with them. 

Johnny-eake. — '' Mix at home, before starting, i 
quart of yellow, granulated corn meal, i pint of 
white flour, '^ cup of sugar, i teaspoonful of salt, 4 
teaspoonfuls of baking-powder. In camp it should 
be mixed in the pan to make a fairly heavy batter 
and allowed to stand for a few minutes before frying 
so that it becomes light and puffy. It should then 
be dropped by spoonfuls, without further stirring, 


into the hot, greased pan, and not turned until the 
top has begun to set. The bacon grease takes the 
place of butter. 

" If less water is used, the entire mixture may be 
put in the frying-pan at once, baked from the bot- 
tom up over coals until the top has set, and then 
turned. It makes delicious johnny-cake. Try 
rolling the trout in a little of the dry mixture." 
{Warwick S. Carpenter.) 

Corn Bread {Superior) . — 

I pint corn mea), 

1 pint flour, 

3 tablespoonfuls sugar, 

2 heaped tablespoonfuls butter, 

3 teaspoonfuls baking powder, 
r teaspoonful salt, 

2 eggs, 

I pint (or more) milk. 

Rub butter and sugar together. Add the beaten 
eggs ; then the milk. Sift the salt and baking pow- 
der into the meal and flour. Pour the liquid over 
the dry ingredients, beating well. Pour batter into 
well-greased pan, and bake thirty to forty minutes 
in moderately hot oven. Can also be made into 

Corn Batter Bread. — 

1 pint corn meal, 

2, pints milk (or water), 

2 eggs, 

1 teaspoonful salt. 

Beat the eggs light; add the salt; then the meal 
and milk, gradually, until well blended. Bake 
about thirty minutes. This is the standard break- 
fast bread of the South, easily made, and (if the 
meal is freshly ground) delicious. A little boiled 
rice, or hominy grits, may be substituted for oart 
of the meal. 

Snow Bread. — After a fall of light, feathery 
snow, superior corn bread may be made by stirring 


I quart corn meal, 
Yz teaspoonful soda, 
I teaspoonful salt, 
I tablespoonful lard. 

Then, in a cool place where the snow will not 
melt, stir into above one quart light snow. Bake 
about forty minutes in rather hot oven. Snow, for 
some unknown reason, has the same effect on bread 
as eggs have, two tablespoonfuls of snow equaling 
one egg. It can also be used in making batter for 
pancakes, or puddings, the batter being made rather 
thick, and the snow mixed with each cake just be- 
fore putting in the pan. 

Substitute for Baking Soda. — Take the white of 
wood ashes, same quantity as you would use of soda, 
and mix dry with the flour. It makes bread rise 
the same as soda, and you can't tell the difference. 
The best ashes are those of hickory, dogwood, sugar 
maple, and corncobs ; but the ashes of beech, ash, 
buckeye, balsam poplar, and yellow poplar are also 

"Gritted Bread.'* — When green corn has just 
passed from the tucket, or soft and milky stage, and 
has become too hard for boiling, but is still too soft 
for grinding into meal, make a " gritter," as fol- 
lows: Take a piece of tin about 7 x 14 inches (un- 
solder a lard pail by heating, and flatten the sides) ; 
punch holes through it, close together, with a large 
nail; bend the sheet into a half cylinder, rough side 
out, like a horseradish grater; nail the edges to a 
board somewhat longer and wider than the tin. 
Then, holding the ear of corn pointing lengthwise 
from you, grate it into a vessel held between the 

The meal thus formed will need no water, but 
can be mixed in its own milk. Salt it, and bake 
quickly. The flavor of " gritted bread " is a blend 
of hot pone and roasting ears — delectable ! Hard 
corn cap be grated by first soaking the ears over 


Pancakes. — 

Plain Flapjacks. — 

I quart flour, 

1 teaspoonful salt, 

2 teaspoonfuls sugar, or 4 of molasses, 
2 level tablespoonfuls baking powder. 

Rub in, dry, two heaped tablespoonfuls grease. 
]f you have no grease, do without. Make a smooth 
batter with cold milk (best) or water — thin 
enough to pour from a spoon, but not too thin, or it 
will take all day to bake enough for the party. Stir 
well, to smooth out lumps. Set frying-pan level 
over thin bed of coals, get it quite hot, and grease 
with a piece of pork in split end of stick. Pan must 
be hot enough to make batter sizzle as it touches, 
and it should be polished. Pour from end of a big 
spoon successively enough batter to fill pan within 
one-half inch of rim. When cake is full of bubbles 
and edges have stiffened, shuffle pan to make sure 
that cake is free below and stiff enough to flip. 
Then hold pan slanting in front of and away from 
you, go through preliminary motion of flapping once 
or twice to get the swing, then flip boldly so cake 
will turn a somersault in the air, and catch it up- 
side down. Beginners generally lack the nerve to 
toss high enough. Grease pan anew and stir batter 
every time before pouring. This is the " universal 
pancake " that '* Nessmuk " derided. Much better 
and wholesomer are: 

Effff Pancakes. — Made same as above excepting 
that you add two eggs, or their equivalent in desic- 
c'ated egg. 

Snow Pancakes. — Instead of eggs, in the above 
recipe, use four tablespoonfuls of freshly fallen 
snow. Make the batter rather thick, and add some 
clean, dry snow to each pancake before putting it in 
the pan. 

Mixed Cakes. — When cold boiled rice is left 
over, mix it half and half with flour, and proceed 
as wjth flmjacks. It makes them tender. The bat- 


ter IS best mixed with the water in which the rict 
was boiled. Oatmeal, grits, or cold boiled potatoes, 
may be used in the same way. Stewed dried fruit 
is also a good addition; mix the flour with their 
juice instead of water. 
Corn Batter Cakes. — 

y2 pint corn meal, 

J4 pint flour, 

I heaped teaspoonful baking powder, 

I heaped teaspoonful sugar or 2 molassfew, 

1 level teaspoonful salt. 

After mixing the dry ingredients thoroughly, add 
cold water, a little at a time, stirring briskly, until 
a rather thick batter results. Bake like flapjacks 
Wholesomer than plain flour flapjacks. These are 
better with an egg or two added, and if mixed with 
milk instead of water. Snow can be substituted 
for eggs, as described above. 

Buckwheat Cakes. — 

1 pint buckwheat flour, 
Yz pint wheat flour, 

2 tablespoonfuls baking powder, 
J/2 teaspoonful salt. 

Mix to a thin batter, preferably with milk. A 
couple of eggs make them light, or make snow cakes. 

Syrup. — Mix maple or brown sugar with just 
enough water to dissolve it, and heat until clear. 
If white sugar is used, caramel it by putting it dry 
in a pan and heating until browned ; then add water 
to dissolve it. 

Toast, Fritters, Dumplings, Etc. — 

Stale Bread. — Biscuit or bread left over and dried 
out can be freshened for an hour or two by dipping 
quickly in and out of water and placing in the baker 
until heated through; or, the biscuit may be cut 
open, slightly moistened, and toasted in a broiler. 

If you have eggs, make a French toast by dipping 
the slices in whipped eggs and frying them. 

With milk, make milk toast: heat the milk, add a 


chunk of butter and some salt, toast the bread, and 
pour milk over it. Heat the milk gradually to the 
simmering point, but do not let it boil, lest it burn. 

Stale bread may also be dipped into smoking hot 
grease. It will brown immediately. Stand it edge- 
wise to drain, then lay on hot plate. Cut into dice 
for soups. 

Fried Quoits. — Make dough as for biscuit. 
Plant a stick slanting in the ground near the fire. 
Have another small, clean stick ready, and a frying- 
pan of lard or butter heated sissing hot. There 
must be enough grease in the pan to drown the 
quoits. Take dough the size of a small hen's egg, 
flatten it between the hands, make a hole in the cen- 
ter like that of a doughnut, and quickly work it 
(the dough, not the hole) into a flat ring of about 
two inches inside diameter. Drop it flat into the 
hot grease, turn almost immediately, and in a few 
seconds it will be cooked. 

When of a light brown color, fish it out with your 
little stick and hang it on the slanting one before 
the fire to keep hot. If the grease is of the right 
temperature, the cooking of one quoit will occupy 
just the same time as the molding of another, and 
the product will be crisp and crumpety. If the 
grease is not hot enough, a visit from your oldest 
grandmother may be expected before midnight. 
(Adapted from Lees and Clutterbuck.) 

Fritters. — A dainty variety is added to the camp 
bill-of-fare by fritters of fruit or vegetables, fish, 
flesh, or fowl. They are especially relished in cold 
weather, or when the butter supply is low. Being 
easily made and quickly cooked, they fit any time or 

The one essential of good and wholesome fritters 
is plenty of fat to fry them in, and fat of the right 
temperature. (The best friture is equal parts of 
butter and lard.) Set the kettle where the fat will 
heat slowly until needed; then closer over the fire 
until a bluish smoke rises from the center of the 
-kettle. Drop a cube of bread into ;*- ^^ ^ tajrns 


golden-brown in one minute, the fat is right. Then 
keep the kettle at just this temperature. Make bat- 
ter as follows: 

Fritter Batter. — 
I pint flour, 
4 eggs, 

I tablespoonful salt, 
I pint water or milk, 
3 tablespoonfuls butter or other grease. 

Blend the salt and the yolks of the eggs (or 
desiccated egg). Rub the butter into this; then the 
flour, a little at a time ; then the water. Beat well, 
and, if you have time, let it stand a while. If fresh 
eggs are used, now beat the whites to a stiff froth 
and stir them in. When using, drop even spoonfuls 
into the fat with a large spoon. When golden- 
brown, lift fritter out with a forked stick (not pierc- 
ing), stand it up to drain, and serve very hot. The 
base may be almost anything: sliced fruit, minced 
game or meat, fish or shellfish, grated cheese, boiled 
rice, grated potato or green corn, etc. Anything 
cut to the size of an oyster is dipped in the batter 
and then fried ; if minced or grated it is mixed with 
the batter. Jam is spread on bread, covered with 
another slice, the sandwich is cut into convenient 
pieces, and these are dipped in the batter. Plain 
fritters of batter alone are eaten with syrup. Those 
made of corn meal instead of flour (mixed with 
warm milk and egg) are particularly good. The 
variety that can be served, even in camp, is well- 
nigh endless. 

Dumplings. — Those of biscuit dough have al- 
ready been mentioned. Wlien specially prepared 
they may be made as follows: 

J/2 pint flour, 

I teaspoonful baking powder, 
J4 teaspoonful salt, 
y2 teaspoonful sugar, 
% pint milk= 

The stew that they are to oe cooKed with should 


be nearly done before the dumplings are started. 
Then mix the dry ingredients thoroughly. Wet 
with the milk and stir quickly into a smooth ball. 
Roll into a sheet three-quarters of an inch thick, 
and cut like biscuit. Meantime bring the stew to a 
sharp boil. Arrange dumplings on top of it, cover 
the vessel, and cook exactly ten minutes. 

Macaroni. — 

Boiled Macaroni. — For one-half pound macaroni 
have not less than three quarts of salted water boil- 
ing rapidly. Break the macaroni into short pieces, 
and boil thirty-five minutes for the small, forty-five 
minutes for the large. Then drain, and pour sauce 
over it, or bake it. It is better if boiled in good 
broth/ instead of water. 

1 omato Sauce. — 

I quart can tomatoes, 

1 tablespoonful butter, 

2 tablespoonfuls flour, 
I teaspoonful salt, 

y% teaspoonful pepper, 
I teaspoonful sugar. 

Rub the flour into the butter until they blend. 
Brown this in a pan. Add the tomatoes and sim- 
mer thirty minutes. Stir frequently. Add the sea- 
soning, along with spices, if you wish. This makes 
enough sauce for i^ pounds macaroni, but it keeps 
well in cold weather, and can be used with other 
dishes. Good in combination with the following: 

Macaroni with Cheese. — After the macaroni is 
boiled, put it in a pan with a little butter and some 
grated cheese. Stir gently, and as soon as the cheese 
is melted, serve ; or, pour the above sauce over it. 

Macaroni, Baked. — Boil first, as above. Drain. 
Place in a deep pan, add a cupful of cold milk, 
sprinkle in three tablespoonfuls grated cheese and 
one tablespoonful butter. Then bake until brown. 

Spaghetti. — This has the advantage over mac- 
aroni of not being so bulky to carry ; but some do not 
like it so well. Speaking of bulk, if you cannot 


carry canned tomatoes, a very good sauce is made 
of Franco-American tomato puree (usually listed 
under soups in grocers' catalogues) which is put up 
in cans as small as ^ pint. 

" Dice one large onion and ^4 lb. of bacon and 
cook in a frying-pan until the onion is a light 
brown. Mix with this one small can of tomato 
puree, and, if you have it, a half cup of grated 
cheese. Season well and combine this with the 
spaghetti, which has been boiled, and blanched in 
cold water. Place in the baker in moderate heat 
for an hour. We buy plain American cheese and 
grate after drying: it should be packed in a push-top 
tin well lined with oiled paper." {Mrs. Pinkerton.) 

Porridge. — 

Corn Meal Mush. — Mix two level tablespoon- 
fuls salt with one quart meal. Bring four quarts 
of water (for yellow meal, or half as much for fresh 
white meal) to a hard boil in a two-gallon kettle. 
Mix the salted meal with enough cold water to make 
a batter that will run from the spoon ; this is to 
prevent it from getting lumpy. With a large spoon 
drop the batter into the boiling water, adding grad- 
ually, so that water will not fall below boiling point. 
Stir constantly for ten minutes. Then cover pot 
and hang it high enough above fire to insure against 
scorching. Cook thus for one hour, stirring occa- 
sionally, and thinning with boiling water if it gets 
too thick. 

Fried Mush. — This, as Father Izaak said of 
another dish, is " too good for any but very honest 
men." The only drawback to this gastronomic 
joy is that it takes a whole panful for one man. 
As it is rather slow to fry, let each man perform 
over the fire for himself. The mush should have 
been poured into a greased pan the previous eve- 
ning, and set in a cool place over night to harden. 
Cut into slices one-third of an inch thick, and fry 
in very hot grease until nicely browned. Eat with 
syrup, or au naturel. 


Polenta. — An Italian dish made from our native 
."orn and decidedly superior to plain boiled mush. 
Cook mush as above for one hour. Partly fill the 
bake-pan with it, and pour over it either a good 
brown gravy, or the tomato sauce described under 
macaroni. Then sprinkle with grated cheese. Set 
the pan in the oven three minutes, or in the re- 
flector five minutes, to bake a little. 

Oatmeal Porridge. — Rolled oats may be cooked 
much more quickly than the old-fashioned oatmeal; 
the latter is not fit for the human stomach until it 
has been boiled as long as corn mush. To two 
quarts boiling water add one teaspoonful of salt, 
stir in gradually a pint of rolled oats, and boil ten 
minutes, stirring constantly, unless you have a dou- 
ble boiler. The latter may be extemporized by 
setting a small kettle inside a larger one that con- 
tains some water, with a few pebbles at the bottom 
to keep them apart. 

Cereals. — 

Rice, Boiled. — Good precedent to the contrary 
notwithstanding, I contend that there is but one 
way to boil rice, and that is this (which is de- 
scribed in the words of Captain Kenealy, whose 
Yachting Wrinkles is a book worth owning) : 

'' To cook rice so that each grain will be plump, 
dry, and separate, first, wash the measure of rice 
thoroughly in cold, salted water. Then put it in 
a pot of furiously boiling fiesh water ( i cupful 
to 2 quarts water), no salt being added. Keep the 
pot boiling hard for twenty minutes, but do not 
stir. Then strain off the water, place the rice over 
a very moderate fire (hang high over camp-fire), 
and let it swell and dry for half an hour, in an un- 
covered vessel. Remember that rice swells enor- 
mously in cooking." 

Plain boiled rice is not an appetising dish, par- 
ticularly when you have no cream to eat it with; 
but no other cereal lends itself so well to varied 
combinations, not only as a breakfast food but also 


m soups and stews, in puddings, cakes, etc. Boiled 
rice with raisins is a standard dish; other dried 
fruit may be used. As a left-over, rice can be fried, 
made into pancakes or muffins, or utilized in a score 
of other ways, each dish tasting different from the 


Rice, Fried. — When boiled rice is left over, 
spread 'it in a dish. When cold, cut it into cakes 
and fry it, for a hasty meal. It is better, though, 
in muffins. 

Rice Muffins. — Mash very smooth half a pmt 
boiled rice. Add slowly, stirring to a thinner paste, 
half a pint of milk, three beaten eggs, salt. Then 
make into a stiff batter with flour. Bake like 
dropped biscuits. 

Rice with Onions. — A very good dish, quickly 
made, is boiled rice mixed with onions which have 
been chopped up and fried. 

Spanish Rice. — *' Mix two cupfuls of boiled rice, 
a large diced onion, and a can of tomato puree. 
Season with plenty of cayenne pepper and bake in 
the reflector for an hour." {Mrs. Pinkerton.) 

Jlisotto. — Fry a sliced onion brown in a table- 
spoonful of butter. Add to this a pint of hot 
water and half a pint of washed rice. Boil until 
soft, adding more hot water if needed. Heat half 
a pint canned tomatoes, and stir into it a teaspoon- 
ful of sugar. When the rice is soft, salt it; add 
the tomato; turn into a dish and sprinkle over it a 
heaped tablespoonful jf grated cheese. 

Rice, Curried. — Same as Risotto, but put a tea- 
spoonful of curry powder in the tomatoes and omit 


Grits, Boiled.— Put in plenty of boiling unsalted 
water. Boil about thirty minutes; then salt and 


Grits, Fried. — Same as fried rice. 

''Breakfast Foods."'— According to directions 

on packages. 

Left-over Cereals.— St^ Mixed Cakes, page 



Vegetables. — Soups 

Fresh Vegetables. — Do not wash them until just 
before they are to be cooked or eaten. They lose 
flavor quickly after being washed. This is true 
«ven of potatoes. 

Fresh vegetables go into plenty of fast-boiling 
salted water. Salt prevents their absorbing too 
much water. The water should be boiling fast, 
and there should be plenty of it. They should 
be boiled rapidly, with the lid left off the pan. If 
the water is as hot as it should be, the effect is 
similar to that which we have noted in the case 
of meats: the surface is coagulated into a water- 
proof envelope which seals up the flavor instead 
of letting it be soaked out. In making soup, the 
rule is reversed. 

Dried Vegetables. — Beans and peas are to be 
cooked in unsalted water. If salted too soon they 
become leathery and difficult to cook. Put them 
in cold, fresh water, gradually heat to the boiling 
point, and boil slowly. 

Dehydrated Vegetables. — When time permits 
they should first be soaked in cold water, according 
to directions on package; this makes them more 
tender. The onions and soup vegetables, however, 
can be boiled without previous soaking. Heat 
gradually to the boiling point and cook slowly in a 
covered vessel until done. When served alone they 
require butter for seasoning. 

Canned Vegetables. — The liquor of canned peas, 
string beans, etc., is unfit for use and should be 



thrown away; this does not apply to tomatoes. 

Cleaning Vegetables. — To clear cabbage, etc., 
from insects, immerse them, stalk upward, in plenty 
of cold water salted in the proportion of a large 
tablespoonful to two quarts. Vinegar may be used 
instead of salt. Shake occasionally. The insects 
will sink to bottom of pan. 

Storing Vegetables. — To keep vegetables, put 
them in a cool, dry place (conditions similar to 
those of a good cellar). Keep each kind away 
from the other, or they will absorb each other's 

Potatoes, Boiled. — Pick them out as nearly as 
possible of one size, or some will boil to pieces be- 
fore the others are done; if necessary, cut them to 
one size. Remove eyes and specks, and pare as 
thinly as possible, for the best of the potato lies just 
under the skin. As fast as pared, throw into cold 
water, and leave until wanted. Put in furiously 
boiling salted water, then hang kettle a little higher 
where it will boil moderately, but do not let it 
check. Test with a fork or sliver. When the 
tubers are done (about twenty minutes for new po- 
tatoes, thirty to forty minutes for old ones) drain 
off all the water, dust some salt over the potatoes 
(it absorbs the surface moisture, and keeps left- 
overs from souring early), and let the pot stand 
uncovered close to the fire, shaking it gently once 
or twice, till the surface of each potato is dry and 
powdery. Never leave potatoes in the water after 
they are done ; they become watery. 

Potatoes, Boiled in Their Jackets. — After wash- 
ing thoroughly, and gouging out the eyes, snip off 
a bit from each end of the potato; this gives a vent, 
to the steam and keeps potatoes from bursting open, 
I prefer to put them in cold water and bring it 
gradually to a boil, because the skin of the potatoi 
contains an acid poison which is thus extracted. 
The water in which potatoes have been boiled will 
poison a dog. Of course we don't " eat 'em skin 
and all," like the people in the nursery rhyme; but 


there Is no use in driving the bitterness into a po- 
tato. Boil gently, but continuously, throw in a 
little salt now and then, drain, and dry before the 

Potatoes, Steamed. — Old potatoes are better 
steamed. A rough-and-ready method is shown on 
page 30. 

Potatoes, Mashed. — After boiling, mash the po- 
tatoes with a peeled stub of sapling, or a bottle, 
and work into them some butter, if you have it, 
and milk. " The more you beat 'em, the better 
they be." Salt and pepper. 

Potato Cakes. — Mould some mashed potato into 
cakes, season, and fry in deep fat. Or add egg and 
bake them brown. 

Potatoes, 5<3^^J.— "Nessmuk's" description cannot 
be improved: "Scoop out a basin-like depression 
under the fore-stick, three or four inches deep, and 
large enough to hold the tubers when laid side by 
side; fill it with bright hardwood coals and keep 
up a strong heat for half an hour or more. Next, 
clean out the hollow, place the potatoes in it, and 
cover them with hot sand or ashes, topped with a 
heap of glowing coals, and keep up all the heat you 
like. In about forty minutes commence to try 
them with a sharpened hardwood sliver; when this 
will pass through them they are done and should 
be. raked out at once. Run the- sliver through them 
from end to end, to let the steam escape, and use 
Immediately, as a roast potato quickly becomes 
soggy and bitter." 

Potatoes, Fried. — Boiled or steamed potatoes 
that have been left over may be sliced one-quarter 
Inch thick, and fried. 

Potatoes, Fried, Raw. — Peel, and slice into 
pieces half an Inch thick. Drop Into cold w^ater 
until frying-pan is ready. Put enough grease In 
pan to completely Immerse the potatoes, and get it 
very hot, as directed under Frying. Pour water 
ofE potatoes, dry a slice in a clean cloth, drop It into 
\the sizzling fat. and so on, one slice at a time. 


Drying the slices avoids a splutter in the pan and 
helps to keep from absorbing grease. If many 
slices were dropped into the pan together, the heat 
would be checked and the potatoes would get soggy 
with grease. When the slices begin to turn a faint 
brown, salt the potatoes, pour off the grease at once, 
and brown a little in the dry pan. The outside 
of each slice will then be crisp and the insides white 
and deliciously mealy. 

Potatoes, Lyonnaise. — Fry one or more sliced 
onions until they are turning yellowish, then add 
sliced or diced potatoes, previously boiled; keep 
tossing now and then until the potatoes are fried 
somewhat yellow ; salt and pepper to taste ; you may 
add chopped or dehydrated parsley. Drain and 

Potatoes, Creamed. — Cut I pint cold potatoes 
in cubes or thin slices; put in pan and cover with 
milk; cook gradually until milk is absorbed. Then 
add I tablespoon butter, 1/2 teaspoonful salt, some 
pepper, and parsley. Stir a few moments, and 

Potatoes au Gratin. — " Chop cold boiled potatoes 
rather fine. Rub a tablespoonful of butter with one 
of flour, add 3^ pint of milk, and season with salt 
and pepper. When this mixture has boiled, mix it 
with potatoes and turn into a baking dish. Sprinkle 
grated cheese over the top, pressing it down into 
the cream sauce. Bake in a quick oven until a 
golden brown." (Arthur Chapman.) 

Potatoes, Stewed. — Cut cold boiled potatoes into 
dice, season with salt, pepper, butter, and stew 
gently in enough milk to cover them. Stir occa- 
sionally to prevent scorching. Or, peel and slice 
some raw potatoes. Cover with boiling water and 
boil until tender. Pour off the water. Roll a large 
piece of butter in flour, heat some milk, beat these 
together until smooth, season with salt and pepper, 
and bring to a boil. Then stew together five 
minutes. Serve very hot. 

Sweet Potatoes.. Boiled. — Use a kettle with lid. 


Select tubers of uniform size; wash; do not cut or 
break the skins. Put them in boiling water, and 
continue boiling until, when you pierce one with a 
fork, you find it just a little hard in the center. 
Drain by raising the cover only a trifle when kettle 
is tilted, so as to keep in as much steam as possible. 
Hang the kettle high over the fire, cover closely, and 
let steam ten minutes. 

Sweet Potatoes, Fried. — Skin the boiled potatoes 
and cut them lengthwise. Dust the slices with salt 
and pepper. Throw them into hot fat, browning 
first one side, then the other. Serve very hot. 

Potatoes and Onions, Hashed, — Slice two pota- 
toes to one onion. Parboil together about fifteen 
minutes in salted water. Pour off water, and drain. 
Meantime be frying some bacon. When it is done, 
remove it to a hot side dish, turn the vegetables into 
the pan, and fry them to a light brown. Then falj 
to, and enjoy a good thing! 

Beans, Boiled, — Pick out all defective beans, and 
wash the rest. It is best to soak the beans over 
night; but if time does not permit, add one-quarter 
teaspoonful of baking soda to the parboiling water. 
In either case, start in fresh cold water, and parboil 
one quart of beans (for four men with hearty appe- 
tites) for one-half hour, or until one will pop open 
when blown upon. At the same time parboil sep- 
arately one pound fat salt pork. Remove scunf 
from beans as it rises. Drain both; place beans 
around pork, add two quarts boiling water, and boH 
-slowly for two hours, or until tender. Drain, and 
season with salt and pepper. 

It does not hurt beans to boil all day, provided 
boiling water is added from time to time, lest they 
get dry and scorch. The longer they boil the more 
digestible they become. 

Left-over beans heated in a frying-pan with a 
little bacon grease have a pleasant and distinctive 

Beans, Baked. — Soak and parboil as above, both 
the beans and the pork. Then pour off the water 


from the pork, gash the meat with a knife, spread 
half of it over the bottom of the kettle, drain the 
beans, pour them into the kettle, put the rest of 
pork on top, sprinkle not more than one-half tea- 
spoonful of salt o/er the beans, pepper liberally, and 
if you have molasses, pour a tablespoonful over all; 
otherwise a tablespoonful of sugar. Hang the kettle 
high over the fire where it will not scorch, and bake 
at least two hours; or, add enough boiling water to 
just cover the beans, place kettle in bake-hole as di- 
rected on page 297, and bake all night, being careful 
that there are not enough embers with the ashes to 
burn the beans. 

If a pail with thin lid must be used for a bean- 
pot, cover its top with a two or three-inch layer of 
browse or green twigs before shoveling on the em- 

Baked beans are strong food, ideal for active men 
in cold weather. One can work harder and longer 
on pork and beans, without feeling hungry, than on 
any other food with which I am acquainted, save 
bear meat. The ingredients are compact and easy 
to transport; they keep indefinitely in any weather. 
But when one is only beginning camp life he should 
be careful not to overload his stomach with beans, 
for they are rather indigestible until you have toned 
up your stomach by hearty exercise in the open air. 

Baked Beans for Transport. — '* Cook the amoun-yb 
thought necessary and, when finished, pour off every 
last drop of water, spread them out on plates, and 
let them dry over a slow fire, stirring constantly. 
When dried they can be carried in a sack or any 
other receptacle, and can be prepared to be eaten 
within five minutes by the addition of hot water. If 
the weather is cold, do not dry them, but spread them 
out and stir around with a stick. They will freeze, 
and if constantly stirred will be so many individual 
beans, hard and frozen ; they can be handled or 
carried like so many pebbles, and will keep indefi- 
nitely. Add hot water and, as soon as thawed out., 
they are ready to eat." {Edward Ferguson.) 


Onions, Boiled.-— More wholesome this way than 
fried or baked. Like potatoes, they should be of as 
uniform size as possible, for boiling. Do not boil 
them in an iron vessel. Put them in enough boiling 
salted water to cover them. Cover the kettle and 
boil gently, lest the onions break. They are cooked 
when a straw will pierce them (about an hour). If 
you wish them mild, boil in two or three waters. 
When cooked, drain and season with butter or drip- 
ping, pepper, and salt. Boiled milk, thickened, is a 
good sauce. 

Green Corn. — If you happen to camp near a farm 
in the " roasting-ear " season, you are in great luck. 
The quickest way to roast an ear of corn is to cut 
off the butt of the ear closely, so that the pith of 
the cob is exposed, ream it out a little, impale the 
cob lengthwise on the end of a long hardwood stick, 
and turn over the coals. 

To bake in the ashes: remove one outer husk, 
stripping off the silk, break off about an inch of the 
silk end, and twist end of husks tightly down over 
the broken end. Then bake in the ashes and em- 
bers as directed for potatoes. Time, about one 

To boil: prepare as above, but tie the ends of 
husks ; this preserves the sweetness of the corn Put 
in enough boiling salted water to cover th« ears. 
Boil thirty minutes. Like potatoes, corn is injured 
by over-boiling. When cooked, cut off the bulf, and 
remove the shucks. 

Cold boiled corn may be cut from the cob 
and fried, or mixed with mashed potatoes ai7d 

Kedgeree. — Soak i pint split peas overnight? 
drain them, add i pound rice, some salt, pepper, and 
3^ teaspoonful ginger. Stir, and cover with i quart 
water. Stir and cook slowly until done and almost 
dr>\ Make into a mound, garnished with fried 
onions and sliced hard-boiled eggs. 

Greens. — One who camps early in the season can 
add a toothsome dish, now and then, to his menu 


by gathering fresh greens in the woods and marshes.* 
As a salad (watercress, peppergrass, dandelion, 
wild mustard, sorrel, etc.) : wash in cold salted 
water, if necessary, although this abstracts some of 
the flavor; dry immediately and thoroughly. Break 
into convenient, pieces, rejecting tough stems. Pre- 
pare a simple French dressing, thus: 

I tablespoonful vinegar, 

3 tablespoonfuls best olive oil, 

J/2 teaspoonful salt, 

%. teaspoonful black pepper. 

Put salt and pepper in bowl, gradually add oil, 
rubbing and mixing till salt is dissolved; then add 
by degrees the vinegar, stirring continuously one 
minute. In default of oil use cream and melted 
butter; but plain vinegar, salt, and pepper will do. 
Pour the dressing over the salad, turn the latter 
upside down, mix well, and serve. 

A scalded salad is prepared in camp by cutting 
bacon into small dice, frying, adding vinegar, pep- 
per, and a little salt to the grease, and pouring this, 
scalding hot, over the greens. 

Greens may be boiled with salt pork, bacon, or 
other meat. To boil them separately: first soak 
in cold salted water for a few minutes, then drain 
well, and put into enough boiling salted water to 
cover, pressing them do\i'n until the pot is full. 
Cover, and boil steadily until tender, which may 
be from twenty minutes to an hour, depending upon 
kind of greens used. If the plants are a little 
older than they should be, parboil in water to 
which a little baVing soda has been added ; then 
drain, and continue boiling in plain water, salted. 

Some greens are improved by chopping fine aftei 
boiling, putting in hot frying-pan with a table- 
spoonful of butter and some salt and pepper, and 
stirring until thoroughly heated. 

Poke stalks are cooked like asparagus. They 

* Nearly a hundred edible wild plants, besides mushrooms and 
fruits, are discussed in Volume II, under head of Edible 
Plants of the Wilderness- 


should not be over four inches long, and should 
show only a tuft of leaves at the top; if much 
older than this, they are unwholesome. Wash the 
stalks, scrape them, and lay in cold water for an 
hour; then tie loosely in bundles, put in a kettle of 
boiling water, and boil three-fourths of an hour, 
or until tender; drain, lay on buttered toast, dust 
with pepper and salt, cover with melted butter, and 

Jerusalem artichokes must be watched when 
boiling and removed as soon as tender; if left 
longer in the water they harden. 

Dock and sorrel may be cooked like spinach: 
pick over and wash, drain, shake, and press out 
adhering water; put in kettle with one cup water, 
cover kettle, place over moderate fire, and steam 
thus twenty minutes; then drain, chop very fine,, 
and heat in frying-pan as directed above. 

Mushrooms. — Every one who camps in summet 
should take with him a mushroom book, such as 
Gibson's, Atkinson's, or Nina Marshall's. (Such 
a book in pocket form, with colored illustrations, 
is a desideratum.) Follow recipes in book. Mush- 
rooms are very easy to prepare, cook quickly, and 
offer a great variety of flavors. The following 
general directions are condensed from Mcllvaine's 
One Thousand American Fungi: 

To Cleanse Mushrooms. — As they are found, cut loose 
well above attachment. Keep spore surface doivn until 
top is brushed clean and every particle of dirt removed 
from stem. If stem is hard, tough, or wormy, remove it. 
Do all possible cleaning in the field. 

When ready to cook, wash by throwing into deep pan of 
water. Pass fingers quietly through them upward; let 
stand a moment for dirt to settle; then gather them from 
the water with fingers as a drain. Remove any adhering 
dirt with rough cloth. Thus wash in two or three waters. 
Lay to drain. 

The largest amount of flavor is in the skin, the removal 
of which is seldom justifiable. 

Concise Rule. — Cook in any way you can cook an oyster. 

Broiling. — Use well-spread caps only. Place caps oa 
double broiler* gilU down. Broil two minutes. Ture, 


and broil two minutes more. While hot, season with salt 
and pepper, butter well, especially on gill side. Serve on 

Frying. — Heat butter boiling hot in frying-pan. Fry 
five minutes. Serve on hot dish, pouring over them the 
sauce made by thickening the butter with a little flour. 

Hunter's Toast. — Carry a vial of olive oil, or a small 
can of butter, and some pepper and salt mixed. Make fire 
of dry twigs. Split a green stick (sassafras, birch, oi 
spicewood, is best) at one end; put mushroom in the cleft, 
broil, oil or butter, and eat from stick. 

Camp Bake. — Cover bottom of tin plate with the caps, 
spore surface up. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Place 
a bit of butter on each- Put another tin plate on top. Set 
on coals, or on a heated stone, fifteen minutes. No better 
baking will result in the best oven. 

All mushrooms on the following list are de- 
licious : 

Coprinus comatus. Lactarius 'volemus. 
Hypholoma appendiculatum. " deliciosus. 

Tricholoma personatum. Russula alutacea. 
Boletus subaureus. " 'virescens. 

" bovinus. Cantharellus cibarius. 

" subsanguineous. Marasmius oreades. 

Clavaria botrytes. Hydnum repandum. 

" cinerea " Caput-Medusa. 

" 'vermicularis. Morchella esculenta. 

" inaqualis. " deliciosa. 

" pistillaris. 

Canned Tomatoes. — To a pint of tomatoes add 
butter twice the size of an egg, some pepper, very 
little salt, and a tablespoonful of sugar. Boil 
about five minutes. Put some bread crumbs or 
toast in a dish, and pour tomatoes over them. But- 
ter can be omitted. Some do not like sugar in 

Canned Corn. — Same as tomatoes ; but omit 
sugar and bread. Add a cup of milk, if you have 

Miscellaneous Vegetables. — Since campers very 
seldom have any other fresh vegetables than po- 
tatoes and onions, I will not take up space with 
special recipes for others. The following time^ 
table mav some time be useful: 


Boiling of Vegetables. 

Asparagus 20 to 25 minutes 

Cabbage 20 to 25 minutes 

Carrots 30 to 40 minutes 

Cauliflower , 20 to 25 minutes 

Corn (green) 15 to 20 minutes 

Beans (string) 25 to 30 minutes 

Beans (Lima) 30 to 35 minutes 

Beans (navy, dried) 2^ to 4 hours 

Beets 30 to 40 minutes 

Onions 30 to 40 minutes 

Parsnips 30 to 35 minutes 

Peas (green) 20 minutes 

Potatoes (new) 20 minutes 

Potatoes (old) 30 to 40 minutes 

Spinach 20 to 25 minutes 

Turnips 30 to 35 minutes 

Soups. — When Napoleon said that "soup makes 
the soldier," he meant thick, substantial soup — 
soup that sticks to the ribs — not mere broths or 
meat extracts, which are fit only for invalids or to 
coax an indifferent stomach. " Soup," says " Ness- 
muk," " requires time, and a solid basis of the right 
material. Venison is the basis, and the best ma- 
terial is the bloody part of the deer, where the 
bullet went through. We used to throw this 
away; \vt have learned better. Cut about four 
pounds of the bloody meat into convenient pieces, 
and wipe them as clean as possible with leaves or a 
damp cloth, but don't wash them. Put the meat 
into a five-quart kettle nearly filled with water, 
and raise it to a lively boiling pitch." 

Here I must interfere. It is far better to bring 
the water gradually to a boil and then at once hang 
the kettle high over the fire where it will only keep 
up a moderate bubbling. There let it simmer at 
least two hours — better half a day. It is impossi- 
ble to hasten the process. Furious boiling would 
ruin both the soup and the meat. 

" Nessmuk " continues: "Have ready a three- 
tined fork made from a branch of birch or beech, 
and with this test the meat from time to time; 
v/h/f.n it parts readily from the bones, slice in a 


large onion. Pare six large, smooth potatoes, cut 
five of them into quarters, and drop them into the 
kettle; scrape the sixth one into the soup for thick- 
ening. Season with salt and white pepper to taste. 
When, by skirmishing with the wooden fork, you 
can fish up bones with no meat on them, the soup 
is cooked, and the kettle may be set aside to cool." 

Any kind of game may be used in a similar way, 
provided that none but lean meat be used. Soup 
is improved by first soaking the chopped-up meat 
in cold water, and using this water to boil in there- 
after. Soup should be skimmed for some time 
after it has started simmering, to remove grease 
and scum. 

To anyone who knows petite marmite or poule- 
au-pot, these simple directions will seem barbarous 
— and so they are ; but barbarism has its compen- 
sations. A really first-class soup cannot be made 
without a full day's previous preparation and the 
resources of a city grocery. Mulligatawny, for 
example, requires thirty-two varieties of spices and 
other condiments. No start can be made with any 
standard soup until one has a supply of " stock " 
made of veal or beef, mutton or poultry, by long 
simmering and skimming and straining. 

In camp, stock can be made expeditiously by 
cutting one or two pounds of venison into thin 
slices, then into dice, cover with cold water, boil 
gently twenty minutes, take from the fire, skim, 
and strain. A tolerable substitute is Liebig's beef 
extract, or beef cubes, dissolved in water. 

Onion, cloves, mace, celery seed, salt, and red 
or white pepper, are used for seasoning. Sassafras 
leaves, dried before the fire and powdered, make 
the gumbo file of the Creoles. Recipes for a few 
simple, nourishing soups, are given below: 

Venison Soup. — " Put 4 or 5 lbs. of deer ribs 
in a bucket of water. Cook slowly until only half 
a bucket of ' stock ' remains. Add i can tomatoes, 
54 cup rice, and salt to taste. Cook until these are 
done." (Dr. O. M. Clay.) 


(2) Take 4 lbs. of lower leg bones of deer, or 
moose, caribou, sheep, goat, elk, etc., 2 lbs. of the 
meat, a large handful each of julienne and rice, 
a few pieces of pork, i teaspoonful of salt, pepper 
to taste, and 4 quarts of water. Crack the soup 
bones so that the marrow will run out, place in a 
large pot with the meat, water, and julienne, and 
boil slowly until the meat is shredded. Take out 
bones, add the rest of the ingredients, add hot 
water to make the desired quantity of soup, and 
boil until rice is cooked. (Abercrombie.) 

Squirrel Soup. — Put the squirrels (not less than 
three) in a gallon of cold water, with a scant table- 
spoonful of salt. Cover the pot closely, bring to 
the bubbling point, and then simmer gently until 
the meat begins to be tender. Then add whatever 
vegetables you have. When the meat has boiled 
to a rag, remove the bones. Thicken the soup with 
a piece of butter rubbed to a smooth paste in flour. 
Season to taste. 

Croutons for Soup. — Slice some stale bread half 
an inch thick, remove crust, and cut bread into 
half-inch dice. Fry these, a few at a time, in deep 
fat of the " blue smoke " temperature, until they 
are golden brown. Drain free from grease, and 
add to each plate of soup when serving. (See also 
page 356.) 

Tomato Soup. — Take a quart can of tomatoes 
and a sliced onion. Stew twenty minutes. Mean- 
time boil a quart of milk. Rub to a paste two 
tablespoonfuls each of flour and butter, and add 
to the boiling milk, stirring until it thickens. Now 
season the tomatoes with a teaspoonful of sugar, a 
little salt, and pepper. Then stir into the toma- 
toes one-half teaspoonful baking soda (to keep milk 
from curdling) , add the boiling milk, stir quickly, 
and serve. 

Bean Soup. — Boil with pork, as previously di- 
rected, until the beans are tender enough to crack 
open ; then take out the pork and mash the beans 
Into a Daste. Return Dork to kettle, add a cup of 


flour mixed thin with cold water, stirring it in 
slowly as the kettle simmers. Boil slowly an hour 
longer, stirring frequently so that it may not scorch. 
Season with little salt but plenty of pepper. 

Pea Soup. — Wash well one pint of split peas, 
cover with cold water, and let them soak over 
night. In the morning put them in a kettle with 
close-fitting cover. Pour over them three quarts 
cold water, adding one-half pound lean bacon or 
ham cut into dice, one teaspoonful salt, and some 
pepper. When the soup begins to boil, skim the 
froth from the surface. Cook slowly three to four 
hours, stirring occasionally till the peas are all dis- 
solved, and adding a little more boiling water to 
keep up the quantity as it boils away. Let it get 
quite thick. Just before serving, drop in sijiall 
squares of toasted bread or biscuits, adding quickly 
while the bread is hot. Vegetables may be added 
one-half hour before the soup is done. 

Turtle Soup. — Clean the turtle as directed in 
Chapter XV, leaving legs on, but skin them and 
remove the toes, as well as outer covering of shell. 
Place remaining parts, together with a little juli- 
enne, in fresh, hot water and boil until all the meat 
has left the bones. Remove bones, add hot water 
for required quantity of soup. Salt and pepper to 
taste. A tablespoonful each of sherry and brandy 
to each quart of liquid improves the flavor. 

Condensed Soups. — Follow directions on wrap- 

Skilligalee. — The best thing in a fixed camp is 
the stock-pot. A large covered pot or enameled 
pail is reserved for this and nothing else. Into it 
go all the clean fag-ends of game — heads, tails, 
wings, feet, giblets, large bones — also the left- 
overs of fish, flesh, and fowl, of any and all sorts 
of vegetables, rice, or other cereals, macaroni, stale 
bread, everything edible except fat. This pot is 
always kept hot. Its flavors are forever changing, 
but ever welcome. It is always ^<".ady, day or 



night, for the hungry varlet who missed connec- 
tions or who wants a bite between meals. No cook 
who values his peace of mind will fail to have skilly 
simmering at all hours. 


Coffee. — To have coffee in perfection the berry 
must be freshly roasted and freshly ground. This 
can be done with frying-pan and pistol-butt; yet 
few but old-timers take the trouble. 

There are two ways of making good coffee in 
an ordinary pot. ( i ) Put coffee in pot with cold 
water (one heaped tablespoonful freshly ground 
to one pint, or more coffee if canned ground) and 
hang over fire. Watch it, and when water first 
begins to bubble, remove pot from fire and let it 
stand five minutes. Settle grounds with a table- 
spoonful of cold water poured down spout. Do 
not let the coffee boil. Boiling extracts the tannin, 
and drives off the volatile aroma which is the most 
precious gift of superior berries. (2) Bring water 
to hard boil, remove from fire, and quickly put 
coffee in. Cover tightly and let steep ten minutes. 
A better way, when you have a seamless vessel that 
will stand dry heat, is to put coffee in, place over 
gentle fire to roast until aroma begins to rise, pour 
boiling water over the coffee, cover tightly, and set 

Tea is best made in a covered enameled pail. 
Leave the lid off until the water boils hard, then 
drop the tea in (one heaped teaspoonful to the 
pint is a common rule, but it depends on the 
strength of the brand you use), remove from the 
fire at once, stir it to make tea settle, cover tightly, 
and steep aiuay from fire four minutes by the watch. 
Then strain into a separate vessel. A better way 
is to use a tea-ball, or put the tea in a small square 



of cheesecloth, tie it up in loose bag form, and leave 
some string attached to remove it with. 

A good deal of the aroma escapes from a teapot, 
but little from a covered pail. 

If tea is left steeping more than five or six min- 
utes the result is a liquor that would tan skin into 
leather. To boil is — well, it is like watering a 
rare vintage. You know what tlie old Colonel 
said: " My friend, if you put water in that wine, 
God'U never forgive you I" 

Chocolate. — For each quart of boiling water 
scrape up four tablespoonfuls of chocolate. Boil 
until dissolved. Then add half a pint milk. Stir 
with a peeled stick until milk has boiled up once. 
Let each man sweeten his own cup. 

Cocoa. — Follow directions on can. 

Desserts. — Dried Fruit. — Evaporated or dried 
apples, apricots, peaches, prunes, etc., are misprized, 
under-rated, by most people from not knowing how 
to prepare them. The common way is to put the 
fruit on to stew without previous soaking, and then 
boil from one-half hour to two hours until it is 
more or less pulpy. It is then flat and insipid, be- 
sides unattractive to the eye. 

There is a much better way. Soak the fruit at 
least over night, in clear cold water — just enough 
to cover — with or without spices, as you prefer. 
If time permits, soak it from twenty-four to thirty- 
six hours. This restores the fruit to its original 
size and flavor. It is good to eat, then, without 
cooking. To stew, merely simmer gently a few 
minutes in the water in which the fruit w^as soaked. 
This water carries much of the fruit's flavor, and 
is invaluable for sauce. j 

California prunes prepared in this way need no 
sugar. Dried apples and peaches have none of the 
rank taste by which they are unfavorably known, 
but resemble the canned fruit. Apricots properly 
soaked are especially good. 

Jelly from Dried Fruit. — I was present when a 
Southern mountain woman did some ** experi- 


encinV' with nothing to guide her but her own 
wits. The result was a discovery of prime value 
to us campers. Here are the details — any one can 
follow them: 

Wash one pound of evaporated apples (or com- 
mon sun-dried apples of the country) in two wa- 
ters. Cover with boiling water, and put them on 
to stew. Add boiling water as required to keep 
them covered. Cook until fruit is soft (about half 
an hour). Strain off all the juice (cheesecloth is 
convenient), and measure it. There will be, prob- 
ably, a quart. Put this juice on the fire and add 
half its own measure of granulated sugar (say a 
scant pound — but measure it, to make sure of the 

Now boil this briskly in a broad, uncovered ves- 
sel, without stirring or skimming, until the juice 
gets syrupy. The time varies according to quality 
of fruit — generally about twenty minutes after 
coming to a full boil. When the thickened juice 
begins to " flop," test it by letting a few drops drip 
from a spoon. When the drops thicken and ad- 
here to the spoon, the syrup is done. There will 
be a little more than a pint. Pour it out. As soon 
^s it cools it will be jelly, as good as if made from 
fresh fruit and much better than what is commonly 
sold in the stores. 

The apples remaining can be spiced and used as 
sauce, or made into pies or turnovers, or into apple 
butter by beating smooth, adding a teacupful of 
sugar, spicing, and cooking again for fifteen or 
twenty minutes. 

If preferred, a second run of jelly can be made 
from the same apples. Cover again with boiling 
water, stew about fifteen minutes, add sugar by 
measure, as before. This will take less boiling 
than the first juice (about seven minutes). 
Enough jelly will result to make nearly or quite a 
quart, all told, from one pound of dried apples and 
about one and one-half pounds of sugar. 

-Xoricots or anv other tart dried fruit can be used 


instead of apples. Sweet fruit will not do, unles* 
lemon juice or real apple vinegar is added. 

Wild Fruits. — The time of ripening of Aineri- 
-can wild fruits is given in Volume II, und<f the 
heading Edible Plants of the WiLDERNEb:^. 

Pie. — It is not to be presumed that a mere male 
camper can make a good pie-crust in the regulai 
way; but it is easy to make a wholesome £<nd very 
-fair pie-crust in an irregular v/ay, which is a? 
follows: Make a glorified biscuit dough by mix- 
ing thoroughly i pint flour, i teaspoonfal baking 
powder, 3^ teaspoonful salt, rubbing in 4 heaped 
tablespoonfuls of lard (better still, half-and-half 
of butter and lard), and making into a soft dough 
with cold water. In doing this, observe the rules 
given under Biscuit. The above quantity is enough 
for a pie filling an 8x 12 reflector pan. Roll the 
dough into a thin sheet, as thin as you can handle, 
and do the rolling as gently as you can. 

From this sheet cut a piece large enough for 
bottom crust and lay it in the greased pan. The 
sheet should be big enough to lap over edge of pan. 
Into this put your fruit (dried fruit is previously 
stewed and mashed), and add sugar and spice tO' 
taste. Then, with great circumspection and be- 
coming reverence, lay on top of all this your upper 
crust. Now, with your thumb, press the edges of 
upper and lower crust together all around, your 
thumb-prints leaving scallops around the edge. 
Trim off by running a knife around edge of pan. 
Then prick a number of small slits in the top 
crust, here and there, to give a vent to the steam 
when the fruit boils. Bake as you would biscuits. 

Note that this dough contains baking powder, 
and that it will swell. Don't give the thing a 
name until it is baked; then, if you have made the 
crust too thick for a pie, call it a cobbler, or a 
shortcake, and the boys, instead of laughing at you, 
will ask for more. 

Suits und Knepp. — This is a Pennsylvania- 
Dutch dish, and a good one for campers. Takf 


some dried apples and soak them over night. Boil 
until tender. Prepare knepp as directed for pot* 
pie dough, only make a thick batter of it instead 
of a dough. It is best to add an egg and use no 
shortening. Drop the batter into the pan of stew- 
ing apples, a large spoonful at a time, not fast 
enough to check the boiling. Boil about 3^ hour. 
Season with butter, sugar, and cinnamon. 

Apple Dumpling, — Make a biscuit dough (see 
page 347) and roll out to 34 i^ich thick. Peel and 
quarter some apples and remove the cores. Put 
four quarters together and cover it with a globe of 
dough. Put in a cloth and boil like pudding, 
(page 384) for 25 minutes. 

To bake dumplings: roll the dough quite thin, 
cover as above, and bake. 

Fruit Cobbler. — Make up your dough as di- 
rected under Pie, excepting omit baking powder, 
and use 3^ pound of mixed butter and lard to 2 
pints flour. Mix with coldest spring water, and 
have your hands cold. After putting under crust 
in greased pan, pour in scant 3 pints of fruit, which 
may be either fresh, canned, or evaporated (soaked 
as explained under Dried Fruits) y leaving out the 
free juice. Cover with upper crust, bake brown, 
and serve with milk or pudding sauce. 

Doughnuts. — Mix I quart of flour with I tea- 
spoonful of salt, I tablespoonful of baking powder, 
and I pint of granulated sugar, and Yz nutmeg 
grated. Make a batter of this with 4 beaten eggs 
and enough milk to make smooth. Beat thoroughly 
and add enough flour to make a soft dough. Roll 
out into a sheet 3^ inch thick and cut into rings or 
strips, which may be twisted into shape. Fry by 
completely immersing in very hot fat; turn when 
necessary. Drain and serve hot. 

Gingerbread. — Mix I cup molasses, I table- 
spoonful ground ginger, 3^ teaspoonful salt, 3^ cup 
melted butter or drippings, i cup milk, 3 cups flour 
with 2 teaspoonfuls baking powder mixed in it. 
Bake y2 houi- 


Cookies. — Mix 4 cups flour with 3 teaspoons 
baking powder and i cup sugar; pour into this 4 
tablespoons melted butter or drippings; add i cup 
raisins and i teaspoon cinnamon and cloves or all- 
spice. Mix with enough water to make of the con- 
sistency of biscuit dough. Roll out to about 3^ 
inch thick (or thinner if raisins are omitted). Cut 
with top of baking powder can, and bake to a light 

. Puddings are either baked In an oven or reflector, 
or boiled in a cloth bag. Baked puddings are 
quickest and easiest to manage. A few examples 
of simple puddings are given below. They may be 
varied Indefinitely, according to materials available. 
Deep tin pudding pans are convenient to bake in. 
Snow may be substituted for eggs (see page 353). 

Rice Pudding. — Mix i pint cold boiled rice with 
I quart milk and sugar to taste. Put in a well- 
greased pan, dust nutmeg or cinnamon over the 
top, and bake slowly one hour. Seeded raisins are 
an agreeable addition. Mix them in before baking. 
To stone them, keep them in lukewarm water dur- 
ing the process. A couple of eggs make the pud- 
ding richer. 

Fruit Pudding. — Line a deep dish or pan, well 
greased, with slices of buttered bread. Then put 
in a layer of fruit, dusting it with sugar and dot- 
ting with small lumps of butter. Repeat these 
•alternate laj^ers until the dish Is full, the last layer 
being bread. Bake 3^ to ^ hour, with moderate 
heat. Eat hot, with the sweet sauce given below. 

Cottage Pudding. — 

1 pint flour, 
1/2 pint sugar, 
y2 pint milk, 

2 heaped tablespoonfuls butter, 

2 teaspoonfuls baking powder, 
Grated rind of a lemon, 

Mix thoroughly the flour and baking powder. 
Hub the butter and sugar to a cream, add the milk 


and egg beaten together; then the lemon rind. 
Add this to the flour and mix well. Butter a pan 
well to prevent scorching and dredge it with flour 
or powdered bread-crumbs. Pour in the batter, 
and bake about half an hour in hot oven. 

A richer pudding is made by using one-hali 
pound butter and two eggs. 

A cupful of stoned raisins, minced figs, or dates, 
added to the batter, converts this into a good fruit 
pudding. Nutmeg, cinnamon, or other flavoring 
may be substituted for lemon. 

Batter Pudding. — 

yi pint flour, 
I pint milk, 

I heaped tablespoonful butter, 
6 e^gs. 

Beat flour and milk into a smooth batter. Then 
add the eggs, beaten light. Stir all well together, 
adding the butter in tiny lumps. Dip a clean cloth 
bag into hot water, dredge it with flour, pour the 
batter into this, tie up firmly, and put into plenty 
of boiling water. Keep this boiling steadily for an 
hour. Then dip the bag quickly in cold water and 
remove cloth with care not to break the pudding. 
Serve very hot, with a sauce. 

Plain Plum Duff.— 

I quart flour, 

1 heaped teaspoonful baking powder, 

2 tablespoonfuls sugar, 
1 lb. seeded raisins. 

^ lb. suet (or see below). 

Venison suet chopped fine, or the fat of salt pork 
minced up, will serve. Marrow is better than 
either. Mix the dry ingredients intimately. Then 
make up with half a pint of water. Put this into 
a cloth bag prepared as in the preceding recipe. 
Since suet puddings swell considerably, the bag 
must be large enough to allow for this. Place in 
tnough boiling water to cover, and do not let it 
check boiling until done (about two hours). Add 


boiling water as required to keep the bag covered. 
Turn the bag upside down when pudding begins to 
set, or the fruit will all go to the bottom; turn it 
around now and then to prevent scorching against 
sides of pot. When done, manipulate it like cot- 
tage pudding. Serve with jiweet sauce. 

A richer duff can be made by spicing and adding 
molasses, or the rind and juice of a lemon. 

Sweet Sauce for Puddings. — Melt a little but- 
ter, sweeten it to taste, and flavor with grated 
lemon rind, nutmeg, or cinnamon. 

Brandy Sauce. — Butter twice the size of an egg 
is to be beaten to a cream with a pint of sugar and 
a tablespoonful of flour. Add a Rill of brandy. 
Set the cup in a dish of boiling water and beat until 
the sauce froths. 

Fruit Sauce. — Boil almost any fresh fruit until 
it is quite soft. Squeeze it through cheesecloth, 
sweeten to taste, heat it, and pour the sauce over 
your pudding. Spices may be added during the 
final heating. 

Hard Sauce. — Work 2 tablespoonfuls of buttei 
with a small cupful of sugar to a cream. Flavo: 
with a little nutmeg, lemon juice, brandy, ni what 
«vtr may be your preference. 


Dish Washing. — Gilbert Hamerton, in his 
Painter's Camp, dwells lovingly upon all the little 
details of camp life, excepting this: 

5 p. M. Cease painting for the day. Dine. . . . After 
dinner the woeful drudgery of cleaning-up ! At this period 
of the day am seized with a vague desire to espouse a scul- 
lery-maid, it being impossible to accommodate one in the 
hut without scandal, unless in the holy state of matrimony; 
hope no scullery-maid will pass the h'it when I am engaged 
in washing-up, as I should be sure to make her an offer. 

There is a desperately hard and disagreeable vi^ay 
of washing dishes, which consists, primarily, in 
" going for '* everything/ alike with the same rag, 
and wiping grease off one dish only to smear it on 
the next one. There is another, an easier, and a 
cleaner way: Fir^t, as to the frying-pan, which 
generally is greasiest of all: pour it nearly full of 
water, place it level over the coals, and let it boil 
over. Then pick it up, give a quick flirt to empty 
it, and hang it up. Virtually it has cleaned itself, 
and will dry itself if let alone. Greasy dishes are 
scraped as clean as may be, washed with scalding 
water, and then wiped. An obdurate pot is cleaned 
by first boiling in it (if you have no soap powder) 
some wood ashes, the lye of which makes a sort of 
soap of the grease; or it may be scoured out with 
sand and hot water. Greasy dishes can even be 
cleaned without hot water, if first wiped with a 
handful or two of moss, which takes up the grease; 
use first the dirt side of the moss as a scourer, then 
the top. To scour greasy knives and forks, simply 


j'ab them once or twice into the ground. Rusty 
ones can be burnished by rubbing with a freshly cut 
potato dipped in wood ashes. The scouring rush 
{Equisetum hymenale), which grows in wet places 
and along banks throughout the northern hemi- 
sphere, has a gritty surface that makes an excellent 
swab. It is the tall, green, jointed, pipe-stem-like 
weed that children amuse themselves with, by pull- 
ing the joints apart. The sooty outside of a pot 
is readily cleaned with a bit of sod ("monkey 
soap "). 

In brief, the art of dish washing consists first in 
cleaning oft nearly all the grease before using your 
dish-cloth on it. Then the cloth will be fit to use 
again. Dish-cloths are the supplies that first run 
short in an average outfit. 


45 drops water=i teaspoonful^n fluid dram. 
2 teaspoonfuls=i dessertspoonful. 
4 teaspoonfuls=i tablespoonful. 
2 tablespoonfuls=i fluidounce. 
4 tablespoonfuls=i wineglassful. 
8 tablespoonfuls=i gill. 
2 gills^i cup. 

4 gills=i pint (i Tb. water). 
2 pints=i quart (i lb. flour). 
4 quarts=i gallon. 
2 gallons (dry)=i peck. 
4 pecks (dry)=i bushel. 


Baking powder i Ib.=i^ pints. 

Beans, dried i qt.= i^ lbs. 

Coffee, roasted whole i qt.= io oz. 

Corn meal i qt.=i^4 lbs. 

Flour I qt.= i tb. 

Macaroni i Tb.=8^^x2Hx2f^ in. 

Oatmeal i qt.=^ lb. 

Peas, split i qt.=i^ lbs. 

Rice I qt.=2 lbs. 

Salt, dry i qt.= ij^ lbs. 

Soda crackers are about 3 times as bulky as bread, weight 
for weight. 

Sugar, granulated .i qt.=i^ lbs. 

V^a I qt.= ^ lb. 


Bacon, breakfast i flitch=5-8 tbs., average. 

Salt pork x side=30-4o lbs., average. 

Salt pork i belly=2o tbs., average. 

Butter, closely packed i Ib.=i pint. 

Butter, creamery i Ib.=45^x2^x2^ in. 

Eggs, desiccated i Ib.^6x3X3 in. ==4 doz. fresh. 

Eggs, fresh i doz. (average)=i^ lbs. 

Lard 3 lb. pail = 5x5 in. 

Lard 5 lb. pail=6x6 in. 

Milk, evaporated 7 oz. can=2>4x2j/2 in. 

Milk, evaporated i2 oz. can=3^x3 in. 

Milk, evaporated i lb. can=45^x3 in. 

Apples, evaporated i lb. (14 oz.)=7>^x4^x2 in, 

Apples, evaporated i peck=6 tbs 

Corn, canned 1 can=2^1bs.=r45/^x3|^ in. 

Fruit, canned, small can, same as corn. 
Fruit, canned, large can, same as tomatoes. 

Tomatoes, canned i can=2j^ tbs.=4%x4j/^ in. 

Lemons i doz.=2 tbs. =2 qts. 

Raisins, stemmed i tb.^i]/3 pints. 

Carrots i qt.=i34 tbs. 

Onions i qt.= i tb. 

Potatoes I peck=i5 lbs. 

Sweet potatoes 1 peck=i4 lbs. 




All recipes in this book are here grouped under 
Quick J Medium, or Slow, according to the time 
they take. Everything under Quick can be pre- 
pared in less than 25 minutes, and so is specially 
suitable for breakfast or luncheon. 

The table also shows at a glance what recipes 
call for milk, butter, or eggs, and what do not. 
The following abbreviations are used: 

E == Eggs required (whole or desiccated). 
B = Butter required. 

M = Milk required (maybe evaporated or powdered). 
£■*= Eggs desirable, but may be omitted. 
B*= Butter desirable, but other fat may be substituted. 
M*= Milk desirable, but water may be substituted. 
* — Made over from previously cooked material. 


{Under 25 minutes) 
Fresh Meat, Game. 

Broiled meat, game. B* 292 

Fried meat, game 291 

Chops 292 

Kabobs 296 

Brains, fried 306 

Brains and eggs. E 306 

Liver, fried 306 

Kidneys, fried 306 

Milt, broiled 307 

Venison sausages 307 

HCroquettes. jB, E 307 

Small birds, roasted. £.* 319 

UDeviled birds. B 319 

Frog legs, broiled or fried. B* 328 


Fish, fried 321 

Fish, broiled. B* 322 

Fish, skewered 322 


Oysters, stewed. B, M 329 

Oysters, fried. E 329 

Oysters, scalloped. B 330 

Oysters, saute. B. 330 

Cured Meat. 

Bacon, broiled, fried, toasted , 332 

Salt pork, broiled or fried 333 

Ham, broiled or fried 333 

Bacon, or ham, and eggs. E 332 

Pork fritters 333 

Pork sausages 334 

Slumgullion 335 

Dried beef, creamed. M, B.* 335 

Canned meat, heated , 336 

Cured or Canned Fish. 

Smoked herring, toasted 337 

Smoked herring, fried. B.* 337 

Sprats 337 

Salmon, creamed. M 337 

Salmon, scalloped. B, M 337 

Salmon on toast. B, E, M 337 

Sardines, fried. B* E.* 338 


Braising gravy o 297 

Frying gravy .■ ■^ou 


Broiling gravy. B.* 295 

Boiling gravy. B = 303 

Roasting gravy 303 

Beef extract gravy 303 

Cream gravy. B, M 303 

Rabbit gravy , 310 

Bacon gravy, thin 332 

Pork gravy, thick. At.* 333 

Roux 302 

Onion gravy 3 03 


Eggs, poached (fresh). B* E 3ij.c 

Eggs, boiled (fresh). E 3:j.o 

Eggs, fried (fresh). E 33S 

Eggs, scrambled (fresh or desiccated). B* E 339 

Omelets (fresh or desiccated). B*E 339 

Eggs, stirred. B, E , 3 40 


Biscuit loaf 346 

Biscuits 347 

Dropped biscuits 348 

Breakfast rolls. B, E,M 348 

Bannocks 344 

Dough gods 351 

Unleavened bread ... 351 

French toast. E 356 

Milk toast. B, M. 356 

IRice muffins. E, M 362 

Pancakes, etc. 

Flapjacks, plain 355 

Egg pancakes. E 355 

Snow pancakes 355 

UMixed cakes 3 5S 

Corn batter cakes. E* M* 356 

Buckwheat cakes. E* M.* • • 356 

Syrup 356 

"Gritted" bread 3 54 

Fried quoits 357 

Fritters. B* E, M.* 3 57 

Dumplings. M.* 3 5^ 

Porridge, etc. 

UFrled mush 360 

tFried grits, rice 3^2 

IfRice with onions 3^2 

Rolled oats 3<>i 

Breakfast cereals » 3^2 


Potatoes, fried - 3^5 


Potatoes, stewed. B, M 36$ 

UPotato cakes. E* M* 365 

UPotatoes, mashed. B* M 365 

IfPotatoes, lyonnaise 366 

^Potatoes, creamed 366 

tSweet potatoes, fried 367 

Potatoes and onions, hashed 367 

Green corn, roasted. B.* 369 

Greens, boiled (some kinds). B.* 369 

Mushrooms. B 371 

Canned tomatoes, stewed. B* 372 

Canned corn, stewed. B,* M* 372 


Condensed soups 376 

Tomato soup. B, M 375 


Coffee 378 

Tea 378 

Chocolate, il/ 379 

Cocoa. M 379 


Barbecue sauce. B.* 296 

Mustard sauce. B 304 

Venison sauce. B 304 

Broiled venison sauce. B 304 

Giblet sauce. B* M.* 316 

Celery sauce. B, M. 320 

Cranberry sauce 320 

Curry sauce. B, M.* 320 

Butter sauce. B 325 

White sauce. B, M 325 

Lemon sauce. B, M 325 

Parsley sauce. B.* 304 

India sauce B, M 325 

Sweet sauce. B 385 

Brandy sauce. B 385 

Fruit sauce 3^5 

Hard sauce. B 3^5 

Salad dressing 37° 


(^5 io 4S minutes.) 

Fresh Meat, Game. 

Cured venison, steamed 336 

Small mammals, roasted 294 

Heart, braised 306 

Liver, roasted 306 

Oarae pot pie. B.* , . 307 


Curry of game. B* 30S 

Game pie 308 

Small game, barbecued 309 

Small game, fricasseed 315 

Duck, roasted or baked 317 

Grouse, roasted 319 

Game birds, boiled 320 


Fish, baked 323 

Fish, boiled. B 324 

Fish, roasted. B* 323 

Fish, planked. B* 323 

Fish, steamed • • 324 

Fish chowder. B* M.* 326 

Fish cakes. E 327 

Fish roe 328 

Eel, stewed. M 328 

Frog legs, creamed. B, M 328 

Shellfish, etc. 

Clams, baked. B. 330 

Clam chowder. M 330 

Crayfish, boiled 329 

Crabs, deviled 331 

Cured Meats. 

Bacon and liver 306 

Pork and hardtack 333 

Corned beef hash 335 

Canned meat stew 335 

Cured Fish. 

Salt fish, broiled 336 

Codfish balls. £.* 337 


Army bread 34^ 

Corn pone 35^ 

Johnny-cake 35^ 

Corn dodgers 35^ 

Ash cake 35^ 

Corn bread. B, E, M 353 

Corn batter bread. E, M 353 

Snow bread 353 

Cereals, etc. 

Rice, boiled 361 

Rice, curried 3^^ 

Risotto 36a 

Grits, boiled 362 

Macaroni^ boiled ZSC 



Desiccated vegetables 363 

Potatoes, boiled 364 

Potatoes, steamed 365 

Potatoes, baked 365 

iTPotatoes au gratin. B, M 366 

Sweet potatoes, boiled 366 

Green corn, boiled 369 

Kedgeree 369 

Greens, boiled (some kinds). B* 369 


Pie. B.* 381 

Doughnuts. E, M 382 

Snits und Knepp. B, E.* 381 

Apple dumplings 382 

Fruit cobbler. B 382 

Gingerbread. B* M 382 

Cookies. B.* 383 

Cottage pudding. B, E, M 383 

Tomato sauce. B 350 

{Over 45 minutes.) 
Fresh Meat, Game. 

Roasted meat, big game 294 

Braised meat, big game. . . • • 296 

Baked meat, big game 297 

Boiled meat, big game 299 

Stewed meat, big game 300 

Steamed meat, big game 301 

Barbecued meat, big game 296 

Kidneys, stewed 306 

Marrow bones, boiled 307 

Moose muffle, boiled • 307 

Tongue, boiled 307 

Turkey, goose, roasted 315 

Turkey, boiled 316 

lambolaya 308 

Turtle, boiled = 329 

Cured Meat. 

Lobscouse 335 

Bacon, salt pork, ham, boiled 332 

Ham and macaroni 360 

Ham chow 334 

Cured Fish. 

Salt fish, boiled 336 

Codfish, stewed , 336 


Codfish hash 3j7 


Sour-dough bread 349 

Salt-rising bread 349 

Lungwort bread 350 

Porridge, etc. 

Corn mush 360 

Polenta 361 

Macaroni, with cheese, li 359 

Macaroni, baked. B, M 359 

Spaghetti, baked 3 59 

Rice, Spanish 362 


Beans, boiled • 367 

Beans, baked 367 

Onions, boiled. B* M* 369 

Green corn, baked 369 

Greens, boiled (some kinds) . B.* 369 

Soups from raw materials, fi.* 373 


Dried fruit, stewed 379 

Jelly from dried fruit 379 

Rice pudding. £ * M 383 

Batter pudding. B, E, M 384 

Plum duff 384 

Snow pudding 38} 


Almanacs, 172 

Ants, 220, 256 
Apple dumpling, 382 
Ash cake, 344, 352 
Axes, 113 

Care of, 114, 115, 224 

Bacon, 186 
and eggs, 332 
Boiled, 332 
Broiled, 332 
Fried, 332 
omelet, 332 
Toasted, 332 
Baking bread, 342 
in a hole, 297 
ashes, 344, 353 
clay, 298 
clay oven, 345 
Dutch oven, 342 
embers, 298 
frying pan, 344 
kettle, 343 
reflector, 347 
the hide, 297 
meat, 297 
on a slab, 345 
Baking powder, 346 
Bandages, Triangular, 174 
Bannocks, 344 
Barbecuing, 296, 309 
Bark as fuel, 230, 233 
Bean soup, 375 
Beans, 195 
Baked, 367 

and dried, 368 
with birds, 297 
Boiled, 367 
Bear, Butchering, 274 

Cooking, 292, 296 
Beaver tail, Cooking, 314 
Bed-bugs, 256 


Bed rolls, 136 
Bed tick, 134 
Bedding, 124 
Beef extract, 199 

Gravy from, 303 
Beef, Corned, 187, 334 

Hash, 335 
Beef, Dried, 187 

Creamed, 335 
Belts, 145 

Benches, Rustic, 218 
Beverages, 197, 378 
Birds baked in clay, 299 
with beans, 297 

Broiled, 315 

Deviled, 319 

Fricasseed, 315 

Fried, 315 

Hanging to ripen, 282, 


Roasting, 317 

Small, To cook, 319 

To dress, 282 
dry, 279 
keep, 283 
ship, 283 
Biscuit, 347 

Dropped, 348 

loaf, 344, 346 
Bites and stings, 249, 257 
Bittern, Cooking, 319 
Blanket, To roll up in, 128 

To wear, 128 
Blankets, 127 

Airing, 224 
Blow-flies, 250, 275, 276 
Boiling, 299, 324 

at high altitudes, 300 
Boots, 156 

Felt, 161 
Brains and eggs, 306 

Cooking, 306 



Braising, 296 
Bread, 191 

Army, 348 

Baking, 342 

Corn, 352, 353 

Fried, 357 

Gritted, 352 

Lungwort, 350 

Raising in pot, 350 

Salt-rising, 349 

Snow, 353 

Sour-dough, 349 

Stale, To freshen, 347, 


Unleavened, 351 

Wheat, 346 
Breakfast foods, 362 
Breeches, 144 
Broiling, 292, 322 
Browse bag, 134 
Buckskin jackets, 147 

moccasins, 158 
Buckwheat cakes, 356 
Bunks, 53 

Butchering game, 264 
Butter, 191 

Care of, 220 

Keeping, 191 

Cakes, Mixed, 355 
Calories, i8i, 202 
Cameras, 176 
Camp conveniences, 223 

cookery, 290 

Exposure of, 216 

furniture, 53, 2i8 

making, 208 

pests, 24X 

Privacy of, 216 

sanitation, 222 

sites, 208, 212, 2i6 
Camp-fires, loi, 225, 230, 

Camping, 20 

Preparations for, 207 

System in, 217 
Candlesticks, Improvised, 

Caps, i6o 
Capsules, 197 
Carbohydrates, 179 

Caribou hide, 131, 148, 158 

Carryalls, 137 
Catfish, To skin, 285 
Celluloid varnish, 73 
Centipedes, 259 
Cereals, 185, 193 

Cooking, 361 

Left-over, 362 
Chairs, Camp, 55 
Cheese. 191 
Chests, Camp, 206 
Chocolate as a beverage, 


as food, 194 
Chopping-block, 223 
Chops, Cooking, 294 
Chowder, Clam, 330 

Fish, 326 
Chuck boxes, 207 
Citric acid, 197 
Clam chowder, 330 
Clams, Baked, 330 

Stewed, 301 
Cloth, Dyeing, 74 

Waterproofing, 72, 14^ 
Clothes hangers, 58 

line, 224 
Clothing, 138 

Colors, 143, 147, 162 

for cold weather, 162 
women, 163 
Coals, To keep alive, 229 
Coats, 146 

Mackinaw, 162 
Cocoa, 199, 379 
Codfish balls, 337 

hash, 337 

Stewed, 336 
Coffee, 197 

Brewing, 378 
Cold storage, 67, 220, 287 
Comfort in camp, 124 
Comforters, 126, 12S 
Compass, 168 
Comrades and camp boreSj 

Co idiments, 199 
Cook's measures, 387 

miscellany, 387 

time-tables, 317, 373, 388 
Cookers, Fireless, SG 



Cookery, Camp, 290 
Cookies, 383 
Cooking fires, 226 
Cooking in the rain, 47 
utensils, 64, 118 
without utensils, 293, 
295-299, joi, 309, 
314, 315, 317, 319, 
322-324, 330, 340. 

344-346, 365, 369 
'Coons, 263, 281 

Cooking, 312 
Corn batter bread, 353 

batter cakes, 352, 356 

bread, 352, 353 

Canned, Cooking, 372 

dodgers, 352 

Green, 369 

meal, 192 

mush, 360 

pone, 352^ 
Coots, Cooking, 318 
Cot mattresses, 53 
Cots, 53 

Cow-bell for children, 60 
Crabs, Deviled, 331 
Crane, Cooking, 228 
Crayfish, Cooking, 329 
Crisco, 197, 292, 
Croquettes, 307 
Croutons, 375 
Crotches, 218 
Crutch, To make, 219 
Curry of game, 308 

Deer, Butchering, 264, 269 

Carrying on litter, 266 
pickaback, 267 

Dragging on ground, 

Hanging to butcher, 268, 

Packing on saddle, 265 

Skinning, 270 

skins. Preserving, 275 
Desserts, 379 
Dining place, 218 
Dish washing, 386 
Ditty boxes, 165 
Dock, Cooking, 371 
Dog trolley, 59 

Dopes, Fly, 243^ 

Dough, To mix without 

pan, 346 
Dough-gods, 351 
Doughnuts, 382 
Drawers, 141 
Dressing game and fish, 

Driftwood, 239 
Duck, Baked, 317 
in clay, 299 

Fish-eating, 318 

Stewed, 318 

To dress, 282, 316 
Duck, Cotton, 32 
Duff, Plum, 384 
Dumplings, 308, 358 

Apple, 382 
Dunnage bags, 164 
Dutch ovens, 64 
Dyeing cloth, 74 

Economies, 24 
Eel, Broiled, 327 

Stewed, 328 

To skin, 285 
Eggs, 1 88 

Boiled, 340 

Desiccated, 1S9 
To cook, 338 

Fried, 338 

Frozen, 189 

Omelets, 339, 340 

Poached, 340 

Roasted, 340 

Scrambled, 339 

Snow as substitute for, 

Stirred, 340 

To pack, 189 
preserve, 189 
test, 189 
Electric flashers, 173 
Elk, Butchering, 273 
Exposure of camp, 216 
Eye glasses, 173 

Fats, 179 

Feet, Care of, 150 

Fence, 222 

Field glasses, 177 

Filters, 212 



Fire, Backlog, 231, 236 

Building, 235 

Camp, 225 

Cooking, 225 

Dinner, 227 

for baking, 229 

grates, 63 

Hunter's, 230 

in trench, 230, 235 
wet weather, 234 

Indian's, 232 

irons, 64, 228 

Luncheon, 226 

Precautions, 214, 234, 
237, 239 

regulations, 234 

Starting in stove, 63 

Winter camp, 231 
Fires, Forest, 214, 234, 239 
Fireless cookers, 66 
First aid, 59 

kits, 58, 174 
Fish, Baked, 323 
in clay, 298 

Boiled, 300, 324 

Broiled, 294, 322 

cakes, 327 

Canned, 188 

chowder, 326 

Cooking, 321 

Creamed, 327, 337 

Cured, 188 
To cook, 336 

Fried, 321 

from muddy waters, 284, 

Frozen, 305 
Planked, 323 
Roasted, 323 
roe, Cooking, 328 
Salt, Cooking, 336 
Skewered, 324 
To clean, 283 

dry, 288 

keep, 286 

kill, 28s 

salt, 189 

scale, 284 

ship, 288 

skin, 284 

steas. 28s 

Flapjacks, 355 
Flashlights, 173 
Fleas, 249 
Flies, 222, 256 

Blood-sucking, 250, 255 

Blow, 250, 275, 276 
Flies, Tent, 35, 51 
Floss, Dental, n8 
Flour, 192 
Fly dopes, 243 
Food, 178 

as a source of energy 

Care of, 220, 259, 262, 
263, 275, 364 

Digestibility, 185 

Nutritive values, 179, 
182, 368 

Packing, 205 

Variety, 180 

Weights and measures, 
Footwear, 150 

Rubber, i6i 
Fricassees, 292 
Fritter batter, 358 
Fritters, 357 

Pork, 333 
Fritures, 197, 292, 321, 357 
Frog legs. Cooking, 328 
Fruit, 196 

cobbler, 382 

Dried, Cooking, 379 
Jelly from, 379 

Wild, 381 
Frying, 291, 302, 321 
Frying-pans, 120 
Fuel, 212 

Best, 237 

Driftwood as, 239 

Hardwoods as, 236 

Softwoods as, 236, 238 
Furniture, Camp, <;3 

Rustic, 218 

Gall-bladder, 272, 282 
Game, Big, Cooking, 290 

birds. See Birds 

Cooking, 305 

Currv of, 308 



Game. — Continued. 

Dressing and keeping, 

Hanging to ripen, 274, 
282, 291, 314 

pie, 308 

pot pie, 307 

Shipping small, 283 

Small, Cooking, 308 
Gingerbread, 348, 382 
Gloves, 160 
Gnats, 255 
Goggles, 173 
Going light, 109 
Goose, Roasted, 317 

To dress, 282 
Gravy, 297, 302, 303 

Bacon, 332 

Cream, 303 

for boiled meat, 303 
roast meat, 303 

from beef extract, 303 

Onion, 303 

Pork, 333 
Greens, ^^'ild, 369 
Grilling on a rock, 293 
Grits, Boiled, 362 

Fried, 362 
Gritted bread, 3^4 
Groundhog, Cooking, 313 
Ground sheets, 37, 107 
Grouse, Baking with beans, 

Broiled, 319 

Roasted, 319 

To dress, 282, 283 
dry, 279 
Guy frames, 46 

Ham, 187 

and eggs, 333 
macaroni, 334 

Boiled, 333 

Broiled, 333 

chow, 334 

Fried, 333 
Hardtack, 191, 333, 335 
Hardwoods and softwoods, 

Hare. See Rabbit 

Hash, Codfish, 337 
Corned beef, 335 
Potato and onion, 367 

Hat-bands, 139, 160 

Hatchets, 165 

Hats, 159 

Head nets, 160 

Headwear, 159 

Heart, Cooking, 306 

Herrings, Smoked, Cook> 
ing, 337 

Hitch, Magnus, 47 

Hobnails, 154 

Hogs, 222 

Horn, Huntsman's, 118 

Ice, 220, 287 

Insect bites and stings, 249, 

Insecticides, 247 
Insects in camp, 256 
Noxious, 241 

Jackets, Leather, 147 
Jackknives, 167 
Jambolaya, 308 
Jelly from dried fruit, 379 
Jerusalem artichokes, Cook- 
ing, 371 
Johnny-cake, 352 

Kabobs, 296 
Khaki, canvas, 33 
Kedgeree, 369 
Kidneys, Cooking, 306 
Kindling, 233 
Kit bags, 165 
Knickerbockers, 145 
Knives, Pocket, 167 
Sheath, 166 

Lanolin, 149 
Lanterns, 60, 117 
Lard, 197 

Larrigans, 157 
Latrine, 223 
Leather, To waterproof, 

Left-overs, 307, 319, 355, 
360, 362, 365, 366, 

400 INDEX 

Leggings, 145 
Lemonade powder, 197 
Lightning, 215 
Liver, Cooicing, 306 
Lobscouse, 335 

Macaroni, 193 

Baked, 359 

Boiled, 359 

with cheese, 359 
Mackinaws, 147, 162 
Mammals, Small, To dress, 

Mapping, 169 
Map cases, 171 
Maps, 170 
Marrow-bones, 307 
Match, To light in wind, 

Matchboxes, 173 
Matches, To waterproof, 

Mattresses, 53, 134 

Air, 135 
Measures, Cook's, 387 
Meat, Canned, 187, 336 
Stewed, 335 

Care of, 220, 275 

Cooking, 290 

Cured, To cook, 332 

Curing, 276 

Frozen, 305 

"Jerked," 277 

Salt, Boiled, 299 
Medical kits, 58 
Mending canvas, 40 
Mice, 263 
Midges, 255 
Milk, Condensed, 190 

Powdered, 190 

To heat, 300 
Milt (spleen), To cook, 

Moccasins, 157 
Moose, Butchering, 273 

muffle. To cook, 307 
Mosquito bars, 39, 55, 74, 
dopes, 243 
Mosquitoes, 160, 241 
Mulligan (skillv), 376 

Munson shoe lasts, 151 
Mush, Boiled, 360 

Fried, 360 
Mushrooms, Cooking, 371 

Edible, 372 
Muskrat, To cook, 313 
dress, 281 

Neckerchiefs, 143 
" No-see-ums," 255 
Nut butter, 196 
Nuts, 196 

Oatmeal porridge, 361 
Oil, Olive, 197 
Oiled cloth, 71, 73 
Oilskins, 160 

Care of, 161 
Omelets. See Eggs 
Onioni, 194 

Boiled, 369 
Opossum. See Tossum 
Outfits, Individual, 112 
Outfitter's data, 387 
Outfitting, 23, 109 
Oven, Clay, 345 

Dutch, 64 

To use, 296, 342 

Reflecting, 121 

To use, 296, 323, 347 

Sheet steel, 122 
Overalls, 160 
Overshirts, 142, 162 
Oysters, Fried, 329 

Roasted, 330 

Saute, 330 

Scalloped, 330 

Steamed, 301 

Stewed, 329 

Pack, Indian, 267 
Packing, 113, 205 
Pacs, Shoe, 157 
Pancakes, Corn, 352, 356 

Egg, 355 

Snow, 355 
Parboiling, 300, 305 
Parsly butter, 304 
Pea soup, 376 
Peas, 195 
Pegs, To drive in tree, 220 



Personal kits, 164 
Pests of the woods, 241 
Photography, 176 
Pie, Fruit, 381 

Game, 308 

Pot, 307 
Pillows, 135 
Pine knots, 233 

Protein, 179, 185, 202 

> Provisions. See Food 
'«vfcjomaine poisoning, 188, 



\Zi '^'^^uddlng, Batter, 384 

J'^N Cottage, 383 
^ <^N Fruit, 38J 

. ...V ^x,^.., .j^ .Q. . Rice, 383 .^ 

Plasmon, 192 V) / sauce, 385, '<^» 

Plaster, Adhesive, ii6^<J^ ' Suet, 384 ';'^.?/v^k 
Pliers, 115 <C^unkies, 255 "'t'^ v5j> 

^?uttees, 145.^^^^. ^^/O 


Plover, Cooking, 319 

To dress, 283 
Plum duft, 384 
Poisoning, Ptomaine, 188, 

Poke shoots, Cooking, 370 
Polenta, 361 
Ponchos, 146, 160 
Porcupine, 259 

Cooking, 313 

To dress, 313 
?ork and hardtack, 333 

fritters, 333 

Salt, 187 

Boiled, 333 

Broiled, 333 

Fried, 333 

Porridge, 360 

Tossum, Baked, 311 

Roasted, 312 

To dress, 311 
Pot pie, Game, 307 
Potatoes and onions hashed, 


au gratin, 3C6 

Baked, 365 

Boiled, 364 

cakes, 36<; 

Creamed, 366 

Fried, 365 

Lyonnaise, 366 

Mashed, 365 

Steamed, 365 

Stewed, 366 

Sweet, Boiled, 366 
Fried, 367 
Pots, 119 
Pouches, 165 
Privacy of camp, 216 
Protective coloration, 162 

Quail, Cooking', 3i9^0>>. ^< 

QuiltSj 126, 129 
Quoits, Fried, 357 

Rabbit, Baked, 3^ N^ 4f* 

Fried, 310 ♦ t * 

Roasted, 310 

Stewed, 310 

To dress, 281, 310 
Raccoon. See 'Coon. 
Ragouts, 300 
Rail, Cooking breast of, 

Ration lists, 200 

Cruisers' and campers', 

U. S. Army, 200 
Rats, 263 
Reflectors, 121 

Baking in, 347 

Roasting in, 296, 323 
Refrigerators, 67, 220, 2%i 
Refuse, Disposal of, 222 
Repair kits, 116, 161, 176 
Repairs, Quick, 116 
Rice, 193 

Boiled, 361 

Curried, 362 

Fried, 362 

muffins, 362 

Spanish, 362 

with onions, 362 
Pasotto, 362 
Roasting, 294 
Roasting-ears, 369 
Rolls, Breakfast, 348 
Roughing it, no, 124 
Route sketching, 169 



Roux, 302 

Rubber clothing, ifo 
footwear, i6i 

Saccharin, 193 
Salad dressing, 370 
Salads, Scalded, 370 

Wild, 370 
Salmon, Creamed, 337 

on toast, 337 

Scalloped, 337 
Salt, 199 

Sandals for wading, 157 
Sanitation, 222 
Sardines on toast, 338 
Sauce, 303 

Brandy, 385 

Butter, 325 

Celery, 320 

Cranberry, 320 

Curry, 320 

Fruit, 385 

Giblet, 316 

Hard, 385 

India, 325 

Lemon, 325 

Mustard, 304, 326 

Pudding, 385 

Tomato, 359 

Venison, 304 

White, 325 
Sausage, Pork, 334 

Venison, 307 
Saws, 59 
Scales, 115 
Scent glands, 305, 310, 312- 

Scorpions, 257 
Shade, 215 
Shear lashings, 47 
Shears, Tent, 47 
Sheath knives, 166 
Shellfish, Cooking, 329 

Steamed, 301 
Shelter-cloths, 97 
Shelves, 58 
Shipping fish, 288 

Game, 283 
Shirts, 142 

Mackinaw. 147. 162 
Shoe 'laces. 135, 151 

Shoe-pacs, 157 
Shoes, 151 

Breaking in, 152 
Canvas, 159 

Care of, 152 

Waterproofed, 153 
Sink, Camp, 223 
Sirup, 194 

To make, 356 
Skilligalee, 376 
Skins, Preserving, 275 
Skunk-bite, 262 
Skunks, 260 
Sleeping bags, 126, 129 

131, 135 
Slickers, 160 
Slumgullion, 335 
Smudges, 256 
Sneakers, 159 
Snipe, Cooking, 319 

To dress, 283 
Snits und Knepp, 381 
Snow bread, 353 

glasses, 173 

pancakes, 355 
Soap, 119, 141, 176 
Socks, 142 

German, 146, 161 
Soda, Substitutes for, 35J 
Sod-cloths, 37, 74 
Sorrel, Cooking, 371 
Soup, 373 

Bean, 375 

Canned, 188 

Condensed (dry), 188 

Croutons for, 375 

Pea, 376 

Squirrel, 375 

stock, 374 

Tomato, 375 

Turtle, 376 

Venison, 374 
Spades, 59, 115 
Spaghetti, 359 
Spleen, Cooking, 307 
Sprats, Cooking, 337 
Spring box, 221 
Springs, 210 
Squirrel, Barbecued, 309 

Broiled, 309 

Fried, 30s 



Squirrel. — Continued. 

soup, 375 

Stewed, 309 

To dress, 280 
Stakes, To drive, 219 
Stationery, 172 
Steaming fish, 324 

meat and vegetables, 301 
Stewing, 300 
Stings, 249, 257 
Storm set, 45 
Storms, 51 
Stove-pipe holes, 40 

spark arrester, 63 
Stoves, Cook, 60 

Heating, 63, 79 
Stove-shield, 63 
Stuffing for fish, 323 

rabbit, 310 

turkey, 315 
Sugar, 193 
Sweaters, 147 
Sweets, 193 
System in camping, 217 

Table for choosing what to 

cook, 388 
Tables, Camp, 56 

Rustic, 218 
Tarantulas, 258 
Tarp bed-sheet, 134 
Tea, 198 

Steeping, 378 
Teepees, 81 
Tent, Action of wind on, 


canopies, 36 
Care of, 40 
door, 39 

weights, 39 
flies, 35, 51 
floors, cloth, 105, 107 

wooden, 49 
furnishings, 221 
furniture, 53 
ground, 212 
hangers, 58 
making, 88, 98 
materials, heavy, 31 

light, 69, 75 
mending, 49 

Tent. — Continued 
on rocky or sandy ground, 
shears, 46, 99, 106 
tripods, 83, 104 
parrels, 93, 96 
poles, 40, 45, 47, 78, 82, 


rental, 41 

ropes, 34, 75 

slides, 75 

stakes and pins. 40, 43, 
50, 75 

striking, 43 

trenching, 49 

ventilation, 38 

windows, 38, 74 

with side bars, 4.8 

workmanship, 34, 74 
Tents, "A," 92 

Alpine, 94, 96 

Baker, 98 

Bell, 78 
Tents, Camp-fire, 100 

Canoe, 102 

Colored, 35 

Commissary, loi 

**Compac," 103 

Conical, 78 
To pitch, 79 

"Explorer's," 106 

for fixed camps, 29 

shifting camps, 68, 76 

Frazer, 84 

George, 85 

Hudson Bay, 95 

Insect-proof, 106 

Lean-to, 98 

Light, 68 

Marquee, 84 

Miner's, 82 

Pyramidal, 81 

Ross, 96 

Royce, 85 

Second-hand, 41 

Separable shelter, 96 

Semi-pyramidal, 84 

Shelter, 96 

Sibley, 78 

Snow, 105 

Tarpf^ylia. gS 



Tents. — Continued. 
Tropical, 37 
Wall, heavy, 29 
light, 76 
To pitch, 41 
Waterproof, 34, 69 
Wedge, 92 

To pitch, 92 
Whymper, 94 
Ticks, 247, 255 
Time-tables, Cook's, 388 
for boiling vegetables, 

roasting birds, 317 
Toast, French, 356 

Milk, 356 
Toilet articles, 176 
Tomato soup, 375 
Tomatoes, 195 

Cooking, 372 
Tongue, Cooking, 307 
Tools, 59, 113 
Trees and lightning, 215 

Neighborhood of, 214 
Tropics, Pests of, 251 
Trousers, 144 
Trout, To clean, 283 
Turkey, Boiled, 316 

Roasted, 295, 315 

Stuffing for, 316 

To dress, 282 
Turtle, Cooking, 329 

Soup, 376 

Underclothing, 139 
Union suits, 141 

Vacations, 17 
Vegetables boiled with 
meat, 299 
Canned, 195 

Cooking, 363 
Cleaning, 363 
Dehydrated, 195, 200 

Cooking, 363 
Dried, Cooking, 363 
Fresh, 194 
Storing, 364 
Time-table for boiling, 

Venison, Cooking, 305 
Cured, Cooking, 336 
Sauce for, 304 
sausages, 307 
soup, 374 
To cure, 276 

hang for ripening, 274^ 

jerk, 277 
ship, 288 
Vests, 148 

Waders, 157, i6i 
Wall pockets, 58, 137 
Warbles, 311 
Wash-boilers, 206 
Wash-stand, 222 
Washing clothing, 141, 
dishes, 386 
Watches, 169 
Water, 209 
Alkaline, 210 
To clarify, 211 
cool, 212 
purify, 211 
Waterfowl, To dress, 282, 

Waterproof cloths for tents, 

34, 69 

tents, 34, 69 
Waterproofing cloth, 72 

leather, 154 

matches, 173 

Woolens, 148 
Waterproofs, 160 
Weight of game, Comput- 
ing, 280 
Weights and measures of 

food, 387 
Whistles, 170 
Wild, Call of the, 17 
Wilderness, Charm of, 21 
Wind, Action of, on tents, 

Wolverines, 262 
Women, Clothing for, 163 
Woodcock. Cooking, 319 



Woodchuck, Cooking, 313 
Woods as fuel, 236 

Green, as fuel, 237 

hard to split, 237 

Hardwoods and soft- 
woods, 236 

Spitfire, 237 

Uninflammable, 236 

Woodsman, Qualities of, 

24, no 
Wool vs. cotton, 127, 128, 

140, 144 
Woolens, To waterproof, 

Wounds, Treatment of, 175 


Vol. II 









AND ^^^':-^^'%K 







Author of "Our Southern Highlanders," "Sporticp 
Firearms," "Camp Cookery, ' etc. 

Two Volumes in One 

Vol. II 



Copyright, 197 fi, 

Bt the macmillan company 

New Edition 

Two Vnliiraos in One, 1921 

Eighteenth Printing, 1957 

All rights reserved — no part of this book may be 
reproduced in any form without permission in writing 
from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes 
to quote brief passages in connection with a review 
written for inclusion in magazine or newspaper. 

Printed in the United States of America 



I Woodcraft ...... 13 

II Getting Lost — Bivouacs ... 19 

III Pathfinding 37 

IV Nature's Guide Posts ... 49 
V Blazes — Survey Lines — Use of 

THE Compass ..... 60 

VI Route Sketching — Mapping — 

Measuring .,»... 80 
VII Trips Afoot ...... 97 

VIII Packs for Pedestrians . . .118 
IX How TO Walk — A Hunter's Pack 

— Going Alone 136 

X Concentrated Foods . . . .150 
XI Marksmanship in THE Woods . 173 
XII AxEMANSHip — Qualities and 

Utilization of Wood . . .187 

XIII Tomahawk Shelters — ^Axemen's 

Camps — Caches — Masked 
Camps 215 

XIV Cabin Building — Rustic Fur- 

niture 236 

XV Bark Utensils — Bast Ropes and 
Twine — Root and Vine Cordage 
— ^Withes and Splits . . . 256 
XVI Knots, Hitches and Lashings . 271 


XVII Trophies — Pelts, Buckskin and 

Rawhide ..... 298 
A VII I Tanning Skins — Other Animal 

Products . - . . . .321 
XIX Cave Exploration .... 337 

XX Bee Hunting ^ 354 

XXI Edible Plants of the V/ilderness 367 
XXII Living off the Country — In 

Extremis 403 

XXIII Accidents and Emergencies; 

their Backwoods Treatment . 422 
Index. . 470 



1 Following the Wrong Stream .... 22 

2 Ox-bow Bends 23 

3 Need of Base-line ........ 39 

4 One Blaze=/i-way from Camp .... 41 

5 Two Blazes=To-wards Camp .... 41 

6 Bush Mark 42 

7 Use of Divides 46 

8 Numbering Sections of a Township , . 66 

9 Subdivision of Sections 67 

10 Compass Variation 74 

11 Meridian by Sun 76 

12 True North and South ..,.,, 17 

13 Big Dipper and Pole Star 78 

14 Route Sketch by Pacing 81 

15 Map by Combining Route Sketches . . 83 

16 Route Sketch, by C. H. Morrill .... 90 

17 Hitches on Measuring Line 91 

18 Laying Out a Right Angle 92 

19 Width of River by Compass .... 93 

20 Measuring Width without Compass . . 93 

21 Measuring a Height . 94 

22 Extemporized Level 95 

23 Pack Harness with Head Strap . . . 119 

24 U. S. A. Knapsack 123 

25 Rucksack with Flap 123 

26 Plain Rucksack 124 

27 Rucksack in Use 125 

28 29 Norwegian Knapsack 126 

30 Tourist's Knapsack 127 

31 Nessmuk Pack Sack 127 

32 Duluth Pack Sack 129 

ZZ Whelen Pack Sack 129 

34 Pack Basket 132 

35 Abercrombie Pack Frame 132 

Z6 Felling Tree 190 

Z1 Boggled Notch 190 

38 True Notch 190 

39 Logging Up . . . 192 



40 Scoring and Hewing 201 

41 Maul 202 

42 Gluts 202 

43 Cross-section of Tree Trunk 203 

44 Rail Splits 203 

45 Splitting a Log 204 

46 Splitting out Bolts 207 

47 Block for Clapboards 207 

48 Brake for Riving Boards 208 

49 Splitting twith a Froe 208 

50 "Run-out" Rift ... 209 

51 Springing the Rift 209 

52 Double Bolting for Shingles 210 

53 Shaving Horse 211 

54 Spanish Windlass 213 

55 Lopped Tree Den 217 

56 Tripod Shelter Frame 217 

57 Stake Frame for Lean-to 219 

58 Shear Frame for Lean-to 219 

59 Bark Tilt 222 

60 Bark Lean-to 223 

61 Beehive Lodge Frame ....... 223 

62 Beehive Lodge (covered) 223 

63 Wikiup Frame 224 

64 Wattled Work 224 

65 Slab Camp 226 

66 Log and Frame Camp 228 

67 Camp Plan 230 

68 Masked Camp 233 

69 Log Cabin (ground plan) 237 

70 Saddle Notch 242 

71 Round Notch 242 

72 Tenon-shaped End 242 

73 "Trough" Corner 242 

74 Fitting Joists 243 

75 Log Cabin (end view) 244 

76 Fireplace (vertical section) 246 

77 Cabin Door 249 

78 Pole Bunk 250 

79 Table 251 

80 Stool 252 

81 Bench 252 

82 Easy Chair 252 

83 Split-bottom Chair 253 

84 Fox Wedge ..... - ; 253 

85 Bottoming Chair with Splits 254 

86 Rustic Chair 254 



87 Folds for Water-tight Vessel 258 

88 Bark Kettle 258 

89 Bark Water Bucket 260 

90 Bark Trough or Basin 260 

91 Bark Barrel 261 

92 Bark Berry Pail 261 

93 Pocket Cup 261 

94 Bark Dipper 263 

95 Fold for Fish Bucket 263 

96 Bark Fish Bucket 264 

97 Becketing Hoops 269 

98 Parts of Rope 272 

99 Overhand Knot 211 

100 Double Overhand Knot 272 

101 Figure-of-Eight Knot 272 

102 Thief Knot 272 

103 Granny Knot 272 

104 Reef Knot 272 

105 Weaver's Knot 272 

106 Double Bend 272 

107 Carrick Bend 272 

108 Lapped Overhand Knot ...... 272 

109 Water Knot 272 

110 Double Water Knot 272 

111 Leader Knot 276 

112 Half Hitch 276 

113 Two Half Hitches 276 

114 Multiple Hitch 276 

115 Rolling Hitch 276 

116 Fisherman's Bend 276 

117 Blackwall Hitch 276 

118 Clove Hitch (over post) 276 

119 Clove Hitch (overhand) 276 

120 Clove Hitch and Half Hitch 276 

121 Magnus Hitch 276 

122 Cleat Tie 276 

123 Timber Hitch 276 

124 Killick Hitch 276 

125 Ring Hitch 276 

126 Lark's Head 276 

127 Catspaw , 276 

128 Latigo Lash 280 

129 Openhand Eye Knot 280 

130 Midshipman's Hitch 280 

131 Bowline Knot 280 

132 Fisherman's Eye Knot 280 



133 Loop Knot 280 

134 Central Draught Loop 280 

135 Slip Knot 280 

136 Draw Knot 280 

137 True Bow Knot 280 

138 Slippery Hitch 280 

139 Slippery Clove Hitch 280 

140 Running Bowline 284 

141 Running Noose with Stopper 284 

142 Lark Boat Knot 284 

143 Sheet Bend with Toggle 284 

144 Hitching Tie 284 

145 Hitching Tie (another) 284 

146 Sheepshank 284 

147 Bowline on a Bight 284 

148 Man Sling 284 

149 Boatswain's Chair 284 

150 Plank Sling 284 

151 Bak Hitch . . . , 284 

152 Pack Sling 284 

153 Harness Hitch 284 

154 Can Sling 290 

155 Parcel Lashing ......... 290 

156 Bottle Cork Tie 290 

157 Handcuff Knot 290 

158 Ledger Lashing 290 

159 Putlog Lashing 290 

160 Malay Hitch 290 

161 Paling Hitch 290 

162 Lever Knot 290 

163 Necklace Tie 290 

164 Pole Splice 290 

165 Rod Winding 294 

166 Loop Bend 294 

167 Eight Bend 294 

168 Tarn Hitch 294 

169 Double Hitch 294 

170 Tiller Hitch 294 

171 Double Loop 294 

172 Loop to Line 294 

173 Loop on Knot 294 

174 Half Hitch Jam Knot . 294 

175 Common Dropper Loop 294 

176 Tam Knot 294 

177 Turle Knot 294 

178 Eight Knot 294 

179 Reverse Knot .j a .: 294 



180 Bow Knot , , . 294 

181 Taxidermist's Knife 29Q 

182 Skinning a Head 300 

183 Bear Skin Stretched to Dry 304 

184 Pelt Stretcher 307 

185 Splicing Thongs 316 

186 Horn Cup 328 

187 Lard Pail Lantern 334 

188 Cross-section of Cavern 342 

189 Map of Part of Mammoth Cave . . . 345 

190 Runway Snare 405 

191 Baited Snare 406 

192 Head of Rattlesnake o 437 

193 Surgeon's Knot o , 450 



From the autumn of 1904 to the winter of 1906 
I lived, most of the time, alone in a little cabin on 
the Carolina side of the Great Smoky Mountains, 
surrounded by one of the finest primeval forests in 
the world. My few neighbors were born back- 
woodsmen. Most of them dwelt in log cabins of 
one or two rooms, roofed with clapboards riven 
with a froe, and heated by hardwood logs in wide 
stone fireplaces. Many had no cooking-stoves, but 
baked on the hearth and fried their meat over the 

Nearly every man in the settlement was a skilled 
axeman and a crack shot. Some of them still used 
home-made muzzle-loading rifles with barrels over 
four feet long. Some of the women still worked 
at home-made spinning-wheels and looms. Coon- 
skins and ginseng passed as currency at the little 
wayside stores. Our manner of life was not essen- 
tially changed from that of the old colonial frontier. 

To complete this historic setting, we had for neigh- 
bors the Eastern Band of Cherokees, who still hold 
a bit of their ancient patrimony, on the Okona 
Lufty. These Indians, while classed as civilized, 
have by no means forgotten all their aboriginal arts. 
You may find them, even now, betimes, slipping 



like shadows through the forest, killing small game 
with cane blow-guns, much longer than themselves, 
and small arrows with thistle-down wrapped round 
the butts so as to fit the bore. 

To one coming from cities, it was a strange en- 
vironment, almost as though he had been carried 
back, asleep, upon the wings of time, and had 
awakened in the eighteenth century, to meet Daniel 
Boone in flesh and blood.* 

In such a situation it was natural, nay impera- 
tive, that one should pick up and practice certain, 
arts long lost and forgotten by civilized communities 
but quite essential in our backwoods way of living. 
I began, to be sure, with the advantage of experience 
gained on many hunting and camping trips in other 
lands; but in this new field I had to make shift in a 
different way, and fashion many appliances from 
materials found on the spot. The forest itself was 
not only my hunting-ground but my workshop and 
my garden. 

Into this novel and fascinating game I entered 
with keenest zest, and soon was going even "farther 
back" than the native woodsmen themselves. I 
gathered, cooked, and ate (with certain qualms, be 
it confessed, but never with serious mishap) a great 
variety of wild plants that country folk in general 
do not know to be edible. I learned better ways of 
dressing and keeping game and fish, and worked out 
odd makeshifts in cooking with rude utensils, or 
with none at all. I tested the fuel values and other 
qualities of a great many kinds of wood and bark, 
made leather and rawhide from game that fell to 
my rifle, and became more or less adept in other 
backwoods handicrafts, seeking not novelties but 
practical results. 

To what degree I was reverting to the primitive 
came home to me one day when a white dame, find- 

*For an account of this experience, with_ descriptions of the 
southern mountains and their primitive inhabitants, see 
Our Southern Highlanders, by Horace Kephart (Outing Pub- 
lishing- Co.. New York}, 


ing Will Tahlahlah giving me a lesson in Cherokee, 
remarked rather sourly to the redskin: "You need- 
n't teach him anything; he's more of an Indian than 
you are." 

Seldom during those three years as a forest exile 
did I feel lonesome in daytime ; but when supper 
would be over, and black night closed in on my 
hermitage, and the owls began calling all the blue 
devils of the woods, one needed some indoor occupa- 
tion to keep him in good cheer: and that is how I 
came to write my first little book on camping and 

Since then I have spent several more years in "the 
sticks," at much the same kind of life, save that now 
I had as partner one of the best woodsmen in this 
country, a man so genuinely a scholar in hi? chosen 
lore that he could well afford to say, as once he did 
to me: "I've studied these woods and mountains all 
my life, Kep, like you do your books, and I don't 
know them all yet, no sirree." And I now say to 
the reader, for myself, just what Bob said to me 
about himself, save that my experience covers a less 
period of time. 

In the school of the woods there is no graduation 
day. What would be good woodcraft in one region 
might be bad bungling in another. A Maine guide 
may scour all the forests of northeastern America, 
and feel quite at home in any of them ; but put him 
in a Mississippi canebrake, and it is long odds that 
he would be, for a time. 

Perplexed, bewildered, till Tie scarce doth know 
His right forefinger from his left big toe. 

And a southern cane-cracker would be quite as 
much at sea if he were turned loose in a spruce 
forest in winter. But it would not take long for 
either of these men to "catch on" to the new condi- 
tions; for both are shifty, both are cool-headed, and 
both are keen observers. Any man may blunder 
once, when confronted by strange conditions; bui 


none will repeat the error unless he be possessed by 
the notion that he has nothing new to learn. 

Woodcraft may be defined as the art of finding 
one's way In the wilderness and getting along well 
by utilizing Nature's storehouse. When we say 
that Daniel Boone, for example, was a master 
woodsman, we mean that he could confidently enter 
an unmapped wilderness, with no outfit but what 
was carried by his horse, his canoe, or on his own 
back, and with the Intention of a protracted stay; 
that he could find his way through the dense forest 
without man-made marks to guide him; that he 
knew the habits and properties of trees and plants, 
and the ways of fish and game ; that he was a good 
trailer and a good shot; that he could dress game 
and cure peltry, cook wholesome meals over an open 
fire, build adequate shelter against wind and rain, 
and keep himself warm through the bitter nights of 
winter — in short, that he knew how to utilize the 
gifts of Nature, and could bide comfortably In the 
wilderness without help from outside. 

When one travels with a guide, It is the guldens 
woodcraft that pulls him through. When he goes 
on his own hook, he must play the woodsman him- 
self. Woodcraft shows at its best when we "go 
light" through difficult and unknown country. Its 
supreme test is In an emergency, when the equip- 
ment, or essential parts of It, have been lost or 
destroyed through some disaster. 

As for book-learning in such an art, it is useful 
only to those who do not expect too much of it. 
No book can teach a man how to swing an axe or 
follow a faint trail. Nor is it of much account to 
one who merely learns by rote, without using his 
own wits and common sense as he follows the pages. 
Yet a good book is the best stepping-stone for a 
beginner. Without It he might bog and flounder 
a long time without aim or method. It gives a 
clear idea of general principles. It can show, at 
least, how not to do a thing — and there is a good 


deal in that — half of woodcraft, as of any other art, 
is in knowing what to avoid. That is the difference 
between a true knot and a granny knot, and it can 
be shown by a sketch as well as with string in hand. 

In this work I have preferred to give full details, 
so far as the book goes. One's health and comfort 
in the wilds very often depend upon close observance 
of just such details as breathless people would skip 
or scurry over. Moreover, since this is not a guide- 
book to any particular region, I have tried to keep 
in mind a variety of conditions existing in different 
kinds of country, and have suggested alternative 
methods or materials, to be used according to cir- 
cumstances. One might, perhaps, compress into a 
vest-pocket manual all the expedients of woodcraft 
that would have to be practised in one certain 
locality, say the Adirondacks, but it would be of 
little use in a different sort of country. 

Of course, no one person is likely to find all of 
this volume directly useful to himself. I must ask 
him to accept my assurance, based on a considerable 
correspondence with outdoor men in many countries, 
that there is no chapter in it but is of interest to 
somebody. Each reader is supposed to pick out for 
himself what bears on his own problems. 

The first volume of this work. Camping, is in- 
tended mainly for parties who go well equipped and 
are guided by natives of the country, and who have 
adequate means of transportation, or for those who 
go into fixed camp and stay there until the vacation 
is over. This one, on Woodcraft, is for those who 
travel light, in the real wilderness, rove about a good 
deal, and sometimes scatter, every man for himself, 
with his life in his own hands. 

In the following chapters I offer suggestions on 
forest travel, pathfinding, route sketching, what to 
do if lost, outfits for trips afoot, marksmanship in 
the woods, emergency foods, qualities and utilization 
of wood and bark, camp making with tomahawk or 
axe. cabins and rustic furniture, caches and masked 


camps, knots and lashings, buckskin and rawhide, 
tanning pelts, bee hunting, living off the country, 
cave exploration, first aid to the injured, and other 
shifts and expedients that are handy when one is 
far from shops and from hired help. 

I have little to say, here, about the selection of 
arms and tackle, about hunting, fishing, trailing, 
trapping, mountaineering, and nothing about field 
photography, canoeing, snowshoeing, or the manage- 
ment of horses and pack trains, because each of these 
topics deserves a book by itself, and we now have 
good ones on all of them.* 

Woodcraft properly relates only to the forest 
wilderness. The literature of outdoor sport is get- 
ting us used to such correlative terms as plainscraft, 
mountaincraft, and even icecraft and snowcraft. 
This sort of thing can be overdone ; but we need a 
generic term to express the art, in general, of getting 
on well in wild regions of any and all kinds, whether 
in forests, deserts, mountains, plains, tropics or arc- 
tics; and for this I would suggest the plain English 
compound wildcraft. 

If any one should get the Impression from these 
pages that camping out with a light outfit means 
little but a daily grind of camp chores, questionable 
meals, a hard bed, torment from Insects, and a good 
chance of starvation and broken bones at the end, he 
will not have caught the spirit of my intent. It Is 
not here my purpose to dwell on the charms of free 
life In a wild country; rather, taking all that for 
granted, I would point out some short-cuts, and offer 
a lift, here and there, over rough parts of the trail. 
No one need be told how to enjoy the smooth ones. 
Hence It Is that I treat chiefly of difficulties, and 
how to overcome them. 

*See the series of Outing Handbooks, and lists of outdoor books 
in outfitters' catalogues. 



When a man fixes up his pack and strikes out 
alone into strange woods, just for a little adventure, 
not caring where he may come out, he may be lost 
all the time, in one sense, but in a better sense he is 
at home all the time. Not for a moment does he 
worry about the future ; he is exploring new territory 
— that is all. 

But if one sets out for a certain destination, ex- 
pecting to reach it by a given time, and loses the 
trail, he will be anxious at once, and the longer this 
continues, the more it will get on his nerves. Still 
we would hardly call him lost, so long as he retains 
a good idea of the general direction in which he 
should travel. 

A man is really lost when, suddenly (it is always 
suddenly), there comes to him the thudding con- 
sciousness that he cannot tell, to save his life, whether 
he should go north, east, south or west. This is an 
unpleasant plight to be in, at any time ; the first time 
that it is experienced the outlook will seem actually 

Instantly the unfortunate man is overwhelmed by 
a sense of utter isolation, as though leagues and 
leagues of savage forest surrounded him on all sides, 
through which he must wander aimlessly, hopelessly, 
until he drops from exhaustion and starvation. 
Nervously he consults his compass, only to realize 
that it is of no more service to him now than a brass 
button. He starts to retrace his steps, but no sign 
of footprint can he detect. He is seized with a 



panic of fear, as irrational but quite as urgent as 
that which swoops upon a belated urchin when he 
is passing a country graveyard at night. It will 
take a mighty effort of will to rein himself in and 
check a headlong stampede. 

Panic. — In such predicament as this, a man is 
really in serious peril. The danger is not from the 
wilderness, which, pitiless niggard though it be to 
the weak-minded or disabled, can yet be forced to 
yield food and shelter to him who is able-bodied and 
who keeps his wits about him. No: the man's 
danger is from himself. 

I have heard old woodsmen say that there is no 
use in offering advice to novices about what they 
should do if they get lost, because a lost man is an 
insane, anyway, and will remember nothing 
that has been told him. Certainly it is true that if 
a man in such a strait permits panic to conquer him, 
he is likely either to perish or to come out of the 
woods a gibbering lunatic. There have been many 
such cases. But it is not true that they are the rule. 
Thousands of wayfarers have been lost for a day, 
two days, or longer, without losing their self-com- 
mand. And there really is no valid excuse for an 
able-bodied person going out of his head from being 
bewildered in the big woods so long as he has a gun 
and ammunition, or even a few dry matches and a 
jackknife. The first time I was lost, I was rattled 
and shook all over. Something seemed to tell me 
that camp lay in a certain direction, and I felt the 
same impulse to rush madly toward it that one feels 
to dash for the door when there is a cry of *'fire!" 
in a theater. But I did remember what old Barnes 
had told me: "If you get lost, sit downl — sit down 
and give yourself half an hour to think it over." I 
sat down, and for five minutes could not think of 
anything, except cold, and rain, and hunger. Then 


I got to drawing diagrams on the ground. Making 
no headway at this, I began considering how to pass 
the night if I remained just where I was. 

This cleared my mind, robbed the woods of their 
spooks, and presently I was myself again. Then the 
actual situation flashed upon me. I saw just how 
I had got into this scrape, and knew that if I made 
a circuit of 200 yards radius I would strike the trail. 
Before this it had seemed at least two miles away. 
Well, I found it, all right. Had I listened to the 
demon of flight, in the first place, I would have 
plunged into one of the worst canebrakes in all Ar- 
kansas, and might have struggled there till I died — 
all within a mile and a half of my own camp. 

I have been lost several times: in canebrakes, in 
flat woods of the overflow country, in the laurel, in 
fog, above the clouds (in the sense that I did not 
know on which side to descend from an aiguille or 
bare pinnacle of rock), and in caverns. The cave 
experiences were hair-raising, but the others were 
Dnly incidents to chuckle over in retrospect, although 
I have scorched the back of more than one coat from 
lying too near a bivouac fire. A bad record, you 
will say, for one who assumes to tell others how to 
keep from getting lost! Well, maybe so; but the 
fact that I am still on deck may be some excuse for 
offering a little counsel as to what to do if you 
should get lost. 

I do not think that one can get the best of wild 
life if he does not often *'go it alone." Men who 
are interested in the guiding business may say other- 
wise. If one does go it alone, he may as well take 
it for granted that, sooner or later, he will get lost 
and have to stay out over night, or for several nights, 
alone. There is no man, white or red, who is not 
liable to lose his bearings in strange woods if he is 
careless. If an Indian is seldom at fault as to his 
course it is because he pays close attention to busi- 
ness; he does not lose himself in reverie, nor is his 
mind ever so concentrated on an object that he fails 


to notice irregular or uncommon things along the 
way. And yet, even Indians and white frontiers- 
men sometimes get lost. 

I have been with a first-class woodsman when he 
got mixed up on his own home hunting-ground — an 
overflow from the Mississippi, flooding sixty miles- 
inland, had swept away 
old landmarks, replaced 
them with new ones, 
and changed the ap- 
pearance of the coun- 
try; then, subsiding, it 
had even altered the 
P drainage of the land. 

^. 1 T- ,1 . , At such a time the 

Fig. 1.— Following the . r ^ -u *. 

,,. o. water or a tributary 

Wrong Stream ^ n 

may actually run up- 
stream. In fog or snowstorm anybody can get lost. 
You may take a professional guide from New Bruns- 
wick, let us say, or from Florida — it matters not 
where — place him in a new country where outlooks 
are few, and where the vegetation, the rocks and 
soil, and the general features of the country, are 
strange to him, and, if he does not get lost, it will 
be because he thinks more about avoiding it than he 
does about anything else. 

Those who scout the idea of their ever losing bear- 
ings are such as have traveled little in strange lands, 
or have never ventured far without a native guide. 
Personally, I would rather get lost now and then 
than be forever hanging on to a guide's coat-tail. It 
is a matter of taste. Anyway, I shall never again 
have the willyjigs as I had 'em that first time, when 
I was actually within forty rods of a plain trail. 

In THE Mountains. — There is little excuse for 
getting lost, in fair weather, in a mountainous or 
undulating country where there are plenty of water- 
courses, unless one gets on the wrong side of a divide 
that separates two streams which do not run into 
each other. Thus, in Fig. i, let ABC be a main 



divide, BD a spur to the southward separating two 
streams that eventually flow in opposite directions, 
and let X be the location of the camp. A stranger 
who had spent the day on the upper mountains 
might return toward evening to B, and, thinking to 
follow the creek from / to X, might turn down at 
Cj by mistake, and travel a considerable distance be- 
fore he realized that he was going in the wrong 

Flat Woods. — In flat woods, where the water- 
courses are few and very meandering, the vegetation 
rank and monotonously uniform in appearance, and 
landmarks rare, a man may return within 200 yards 
of his own camp and pass by it, going ahead with 
hurrying pace as he becomes more and more anxious. 
In Fig. 2 a man leaves camp X in the morning, go- 
ing in the direction indicated by the dotted line. H^ 
consults his compass at intervals during the day, 
tries to allow for his windings, and, returning in the 
evening, strikes the river at Z. If he follows its 
bank in either direction, 
he is likely to spend the 
night alone in the woods. 
If the camp were at A, 
and the homeward-bound 
hunter should reach the 
stream at B, he would be 
dumbfounded to find him- 
self, apparently, on the 
wrong bank of the river. 

Another easy way to get 
bewildered is as follows: 
In Fig. 2 we will assume 
that the current runs from • ^ 

A toward Z, that a party Fig. 2.— Ox-bow Bends 
unfamiliar with the river 

is descending it in a boat, and that one of the men 
leaves the boat at Aj going ashore to hunt along the 
bank. At X he comes to the mouth of a deep creek, 
«r some other obstruction, or he starts game that 


leads him back into the woods. Not long afterward 
he reaches the river again at Z, and, after hallooing 
and firing a shot or two, but getting no answer, he 
hurries on down-stream, thinking that the boat got 
ahead of him while he was making his detour. The 
boat, meanwhile, has been rounding a great ox-bow 
curve, and may be a couple of miles behind the man 

In each of these examples the country is assumed 
to be fairly easy to traverse, and in each case the 
misadventure might have been avoided by a little 
forethought. A bush bent over, here and there, a 
blaze on a tree where the underbrush was dense, 
would have saved all that. Without such precau- 
tions, there are places where a man can get badly 
muddled in a forty-acre tract. This is no exaggera- 
tion. One of my companions once was lost from 
early morning until after nightfall in a thirty-acre 
patch of blue cane. He struggled until almost com- 
pletely exhausted, and when we found him he looked 
like a scarecrow. At no time had he been half a 
mile from the cabin. 

Thickets. — A canebrake is bad enough, but it is 
not so bad as those great tracts of rhododendron 
which, in the region between Thunderhead and 
the Balsam Mountains (Tennessee and North Caro* 
lina) cover mile after mile of steep mountainside 
where few men have ever been. The natives call such 
wastes "laurel slicks," "woolly heads," "lettuce beds," 
"yaller patches," and "hells." The rhododendron is 
worse than laurel, because it is more stunted and 
grows much more densely, so that it is quite impossi- 
ble to make a way through it without cutting, foot by 
foot ; and the wood is very tough. Two powerful 
mountaineers starting from the Tennessee side to 
cross the Smokies were misdirected and proceeded up 
the slope of the Devil's Court House, just east of 
Thunderhead. They were two days in making the as- 
cent, a matter of three or four miles, notwithstanding 
that they could see out all the time and pursued the 


shortest possible course. I asked one of them how 
they managed to crawl through the thicket. "We 
couldn't crawl," he replied, "we swum," meaning 
that they sprawled and floundered over the top. 
These men were not lost at all. In a "bad laurel" 
(heavily timbered), not very far from this, an old 
hunter and trapper who was born and bred in these 
mountains, was lost for three days, although the 
maze was not more than a mile square. His account 
of it gave it the name that it bears today, "Muggins's 

I could give many such instances, but these will 
suffice to show that there still is virgin ground in 
some of our oldest States. The far West and the 
far North present problems of their own. Exten- 
sive swamps are the worst places of all, above 
ground. As for caves, and how not to get lost in 
them, I will have something to say in another chap- 

What to Do. — No matter where, or in what 
circumstances, you may be, the moment you realize 
that you have lost your bearings, there is just one 
thing for you to do: STOPl Then sit down. 

Now any man can remember that. It is a bit of 
"book learning" that no man can afford to despise. 
It is the one and only way to clear your wits, to 
drive off the demon of panic, and it is sure to help 
get you out of your predicament. 

Then, if you are a smoker, light your pipe ; if not, 
chew a twig. It won't take long for you to recover 
sense enough to know that if you stay right where 
you are until morning your companions, by that 
time, will be searching for you. They will be scour- 
ing the woods, hallooing, firing guns, scouting for 
your trail. Suppose you do have to stay out all 
night, alone in the woods; nothing will hurt you. 
The stories of bears or panthers pouncing on sleep- 
ing men are all tommyrot. So keep your shirt on. 

How long has it been since you were where you 
zuere certain of your location? Probably not a long 


time. Suppose you have traveled half an hour after 
leaving a known landmark. What is half an hour 
in the woods? A mile, say; perhaps not so much; 
for one does not keep up a steady jog in the wilder- 
ness; he often pauses to look or listen, and is bound 
to move slowly when off a beaten path. 

But you don't want to stay here like a numbskull 
and face the sly grins or open ridicule of a searching 
party? Very well, the bugaboos are fleeing. Now 
take a stick, make a bare spot on the ground, and 
try to trace your probable course from the time of 
leaving camp to the time you first suspected you 
might be wandering astray. Mark on it the esti- 
mated location of such landmarks as you noticed. 
If you are not altogether a tenderfoot, you will re- 
member how many streams or ridges you have 
crossed. Anyway, you will recall some features of 
the country you traversed. Not unlikely, when 
your mind has recovered its equipoise, you will be 
able to "backtrack" without much difficulty. 

But in any case, no matter how confident you 
may be, dont take ten steps from the place where 
you are until you have marked it. If the location 
is favorable for a smoke sign (in flat woods' it is of 
no avail) build a fire, with enough damp or punky 
stuff on it to keep up a smoke for a good while, and 
bank it with earth so it cannot spread. Or, blaze 
a tree on four sides — make big blazes that can be 
seen from any direction. Do this even though there 
be several hours of daylight ahead, and although you 
have no present intention of staying here; for you 
do know that this spot is only so many hours from 
camp by back trail, and that you may have good 
reason to return to it. This blazed tree, moreover, 
will be of great assistance to your camp-mates \n 
searching for you, if you should not turn up later 

Then take note of the lay of the land around you, 
the direction of its drainage, the character of its 
vegetation, and the hospitalities that it offers to a 
jftight-bound traveler, in the way of drinking-water. 


sound down-wood for an all-night fire, natural shel- 
ter, and browse or other bedding. 

Now when you start out to recjver the trail, make 
bush-marks as you go along (see Chapter III, Fig. 
6) ; otherwise it will be the easiest thing in the world 
to lose the way back to that blazed tree. 

In trying to pick up your old footprints don't give 
much attention to dry ground, except where there 
may be dusty places, or rocks where your hobnails 
might have left scratches. Look for tracks (I don't 
mean run around hunting for them) in the damp 
places that you pass, mossy spots, swales, margins of 
brooks, and for "scrapes" on the tops of fallen logs. 

When searching for a trail, do not look close to 
your feet, but three or four j^ards ahead of you ; for 
a faint trail is more readily seen at that angle than 
by looking straight down upon it. Cast your eyes 
also from side to side, bearing in mind what a trail 
should look like when you walk parallel with it, as 
well as when approaching at right angles. 

If you get a shot at a squirrel or other animal (of 
course, you don't wander around looking for them) 
kill it and tie it fast to you. It is one of the little 
ironies of wilderness life that food may be extra- 
ordinarily scarce when you most need it — and that 
may be to-morrow. 

Bu^ if you don't soon find that back track of 
yours, and if no familiar landmark shows up before 
the sun is within an hour of setting, QUIT IT for 
the day. It is high time, now, that you go right to 
work to make yourself snug for the night. Your 
success or failure to-morrow will depend very much 
upon what kind of a night's rest you get. 

Bivouacs. — In nearly every story that you read 
of a lost man's misadventures you find him struggling 
desperately on until black night shuts down. Then 
he throws his exhausted body upon the cold, damp 
ground, soon to awaken in bitter misery, and back 
himself up against a tree, to droop there through 
the long, long hours ; or, the cold being intense, and 


he without one dry match, the man totters crazlly 
all night, 'round and 'round, to keep from freezing. 
What could he be fit for next day? 

Of course, if the Swiss Family Robinson should 
get turned around in the forest primeval, they at 
once would find a shallow cave, a projecting ledge, 
a great hollow tree, or some other natural shelter 
ready-made on the spot. We often come across 
such natural harborages in the wilderness — when we 
don't need them. (Three of us hunters once spread 
our blankets inside a hollow cypress and had room 
to spare.) But no special providence looks after 
lost men. 

It would be so easy to make a comfortable "one- 
night stand" if you had a knapsack of supplies on 
your back! Yes, you could get along very well if 
only you had a featherweight poncho, a i2-ounce 
tomahawk, and several big bites of grub (next time 
you go out alone you will have them). But to-day 
you just went off to one side after a crippled deer, 
or something, and your outfit comprises nothing but 
a gun and the contents of your pockets. Pretty 
prospect, isn't it? 

"Under the greenwood tree, 
Who loves to lie with me" . . . 

is all very nice on a summer's day; but under the 
greenwood tree on a cold night in the big sticks, and 
the Lord knows where, with no 7ne to share who^s 
troubles — oh, darn Shakespeare! 

Well, you must rustle. Just now you need four 
things. — 

(i) Water. 

(2) A fire that won't go out till morning. 

(3) A windbreak to keep the other side of you 

(4) A bed to rest your bones and to keep off the 
chill of the ground. 

And, my friend, you want to get these things with 
the least expenditure of time and effort. Night ap- 


proaches; to-morrow may be a hard day. Besides, 
you are quite too tired already to waste the crook of 
your finger on non-essentials, while aimless pottering 
would be your ruin. The job must be tackled 

So think back along your recent route and recall 
the best place where all four of those things you 
need are to be found — that is, the raw materials — 
and go to it. 

I am assuming that the night is likely to be cold, 
but that there is no indication of rain or snow — 
that contingency will be considered later. 

In a primitive forest there are big fallen trees on 
nearly every acre. Find a sound one that lies flat 
on level ground. You might use it either as a back- 
log or as a windbreak; the latter in this case, since 
you are to erect no shelter. In summer, a bed of 
dead leaves piled against the log, with a small fire 
in front, would be a good cubby for the night. But 
we assume that there will be frost. 

Select the spot that you intend to lie on (leeward 
side of the log, of course), cover it with dry brush, 
and set it afire. The object is to dry out the ground 
and heat it. If the tree is not punky it will stand 
a considerable blaze close to it without igniting more 
than little spots on the bark, which can be extin- 
guished with a handful or two of dirt. But don't, 
on your life, kindle a fire against a decayed or hollow 
log — you never could be sure of putting it out. If 
there are no sound down-logs, build an artificial 
windbreak of poles laid on top of each other and 
chinked with earth. 

You first have raked the leaves together toward 
the center so that the fire cannot spread. Don't 
make too big a blaze at a time. When the ground 
you are to sleep on is burned ofF, keep a fire of small 
sticks going on it for half an hour, the length and 
width you are to occupy. Meantime you will be 
dragging in, and piling on one side, all the sound, 
dry wood you can get, for the night's fuel. Get 


long sticks, as big as you can handle, and plenty of 
them. Perhaps there are some old pine stumps that 
you can uproot. Don't fool with soggy, decayed 
stuff. Probably the top of your fallen tree will 
furnish a lot of broken limbs that sprangle enough 
to have been kept mostly off the ground and have 
seasoned hard. 

When you have plenty of night-wood piled up, 
take a pair of sticks and rake the embers of your 
brush fire forward to a place five or six feet In front 
of your bed. Build there your night fire. Tramp 
down all embers left by the first fire, and carefully 
extinguish any smoking spots on the tree. If the 
log does not quite meet the ground, chink the open- 
ings with dirt. 

If there are evergreen bushes at hand, they make 
the best bedding (balsam, hemlock, spruce, in that 
order — even pine or cedar will do In a pinch). You 
won't have time to make a real browse bed (de- 
scribed In Chapter XIII of this book), but remem- 
ber that the smaller the sticks under you, the better 
you will rest. If there are no evergreens, then use 
moss, ferns, grass, or whatever other soft stuff you 
may find. Dead leaves and pine needles are the last 
choice, as they are inflammable. If you have time, 
make that bed two feet deep. 

The ground that you are going to sleep on Is dry 
and hot, and will stay so a long time, being Insulated 
by the bedding stuff. The log behind you Is warm, 
and it will shield you from the wind. You have 
effected a double economy, because a small fire in 
front will suffice until the cold hours on the far side 
of midnight, for which time the bulk of your fuel Is 
to be saved. 

Don't fire any distress signals until shortly before 
dark ; earlier ones would be attributed to some wan- 
dering hunter. But when the shadows begin to fall, 
and 5'^ou have not shown up, your comrades will be- 
gin to grow uneasy and will listen for signals. The 
best signal with a gun is g shot, a pause of teiv 


seconds, and then two shots In quick succession. 
The first attracts attention, the others give the direc- 
tion. If the men of your party hear you they will 
reply instantly. But if you hear no answer, do not 
try again for half an hour. Save aTninunition. You 
will need it worse to-morrow, for signalling as you 
travel, and to get meat with. 

If your camp-fire smokes badly. It Is because It lies 
too flat on the ground for air to get under It. Build 
it on thick chunks, or on rocks if there are flat ones 
to be found. 

So long as It does not rain, the problem of keeping 
warm without a blanket Is not serious. If more 
covering is demanded, and there are enough small 
balsams in the neighborhood, one can make a deep 
bed of the browse, lay two or three poles over It, 
pile a lot of boughs on top, and then, by manipulat- 
ing the poles, insinuate himself between the twc 
layers. This will help very much to prevent too 
rapid radiation of the bodily heat. Another good 
kink is to get a number of stones, six to eight Inches 
in diameter, heat them before the fire, and place 
them around j^ou wherever the cold is felt. Have 
others heating in the meantime, and change from 
time to time. To lift and carry them, cut a small 
forked limb close to the joint, leaving two feet of 
each fork for handles, put the crotch over the rock, 
and press inward with the handles. 

Perhaps, instead of a fallen tree, you may have 
the good luck to find a big uptilted rock with flat 
face, long enough to serve as windbreak, or a ledge, 
with enough level ground in front of it for your 
purpose. Rock holds heat a long time, yet gener- 
ously radiates It. The warm air from the camp-fire 
will eddy around it. 

A man without a blanket can bivouac In the way 
here described, and get a pretty good night's rest, 
even In freezing weather. If It snows, a browse 
bed-covering will help. But a chill fall rain Is some- 
thing else. Ugh ! Maybe you can twist up enough 


evergreen shrubs with your hands to build a kennel 
of some sort, but its slope must be steeper than 45° 
to do any good. If you find old logs from which 
sheets of bark can be peeled with a stick whittled 
wedge-shape at one end, you can make a pent-roof 
over your bed. Slope some sticks from the far side 
of the big log that serves as windbreak, forward over 
your bed, weight them down with rocks or a heavy 
stick, and shingle the bark over the upper ends. But 
you are in for a night of it — the best you can do — 
all for the lack of what "Nessmuk's" scoffers called 
his "limber-go-shiftless pocket axe." With the like 
of it you could build a good shelter of bark or of 
browse, such as will be described in a future chapter. 

Among my most valued possessions is a tiny Col- 
clesser tomahawk, of 8-ounce head and 2^ inch 
bitt, which, with hickory handle and home-made 
sheath, weighs only three-quarters of a pound. I 
seldom go anywhere in the woods (unless in march- 
ing order with a heavier axe) without this little trick. 
It is all that is needed to put up a satisfactory shelter 
wherever there is hemlock or balsam, or bark that 
will peel, while for other service I use it oftener 
than I do my jackknife. 

Fire Without Matches. — So far I have taken 
for granted that you have matches and that they are 
dry. Damp ones, by the way, may be restored by 
rubbing through the hair ; or, place a match between 
the palms of your hands, with its head projecting a 
trifle, and roll it briskly back and forth; in a short 
time it will be dry enough to light. 

But suppose you have no matches. Well, with a 
shotgun the task of making fire is easy ; with a mod- 
ern rifle, or pistol, that uses jacketed bullets, it is 
not so easy, because the bullet is hard to get out of 
the shell — still you can manage it by cutting length- 
wise through the neck of the shell and prying the 
bullet out. 

First make all preparations needed to ensure suc- 
cess when vou get the flame. Build up vour wood 


leady to light, the kindh'ng being stood up on end 
against the larger sticks in a half-cone shape, with 
opening at the bottom, in front, for tinder. This 
last may be very dry shredded bark, fine slivers of 
fat pine, or any dry splinters, pounded between two 
rocks until the fibers separate. In a rain you can 
get dry stuff from the inside of a hollow tree. 

Worry the bullet out of the cartridge; sprinkle 
most of the powder (smokeless, I assume) on the 
tinder, leaving only a few grains in the shell. Then 
tear a bit of dry cotton cloth (lining from your 
clothing, for instance) with fluffy edges, and with 
this loosely fill the nearly emptied cartridge. Put 
it in your gun, and fire straight up into the air. 
The cloth will drop close to you, and either will be 
aflame or, at least, burning so that you can blow it 
into a blaze. Drop this quickly on your tinder, and 
the trick is done. Remember, you want only 
enough pov/der in the cartridge to blow the bit of 
rag a few feet into the air. Very little will do. 

Sparks may be struck from flint, quartz, or pyrites, 
by striking a glancing blow with the back of a knife 
or other piece of hard steel. The chief difl^culty is 
to catch the sparks. Hold the flint between thumb 
and finger of left hand, and some tinder in the 
hollow of the same hand. Tinder for this purpose 
is made by tearing (not cutting) cotton cloth into 
a long, narrow strip, and rolling it up like a roller 
bandage, but a bit spirally, so that the fluffy edge 
will overlay a little at each revolution, thus forming 
a nest of lint at one end of the roll, into which the 
sparks are to be struck. As soon as it catches, blow 
it into a flame. 

The lens of a field-glass, or the outer lens of a 
camera, may do service as a burning glass; but it is 
another of the little ironies that the sun probably 
isn't shining when you get lost. 

As for the fire-drill so dramatically exploited by 
popular lecturers, who make fire with sticks in less 
than a minute, it is all right provided you have the 


right material, which must be soft, non-resinous 
wood, thoroughly seasoned, brash, but not the least 
punky. In most situations it would be accidental 
if a lost man should find such wood. As a matter 
of fact, savages carry their fire-sticks with them, as 
we do matches. 

Next Morning. — A night's rest, even though 
fitful, will have cleared your mind a good deal. By 
this time you probably will iiave a definite theory 
of location, based upon what you know of the rela- 
tion of the camp site to the surrounding country, 
and the general course of your wanderings. And 
you will feel much better at having a whole day of 
sunlight ahead of you. 

The first effort will be to get an outlook over the 
surrounding country. In the hills this is easy, but 
in a level country heavily timbered it is difficult. 
If you are a good climber, pick out a tall tree and 
go up as high as you can get. Where the trunks 
are too thick for climbing, select a big tree that has 
a slender one growing beside it from which you can 
clamber into the lower limbs of the old one. But 
don't risk a broken limb of your own — that might 
be fatal. 

Having gained your outlook, note the compass 
direction of watercourses and other landmarks, map- 
ping them on a piece of paper; for a lost man's 
memory is treacherous. The courses of small 
streams show where the main valley lies. Look for 
smoke. Your comrades will have raised one, if there 
be a woodsman among them. 

Now decide whether to try to reach camp or to 
"break out" to a known road or settlement. If stiD 
completely bewildered, then there is but one thing 
to do: work down country, either along a stream or 
a divide. If you do this, even in a remote district, 
it cannot be more than a few days until you reach 
habitations of men. In the meantime you may suffer, 
but you certainly need not starve nor freeze. li 
you have no one definite objective, but are merely 


going down country, do not try to steer a straight 
course, but save your strength by following the 
easiest way, being careful merely to keep the general 
direction. Follow divides, rather than streams, for 
reasons that will be given in the next chapter. 

But we will assume that you have an idea which 
way camp lies. Take the compass direction from 
your outlook, note how the sun bears as you face 
that way, pick out a mark in line with the course, 
and steer for it — then from this to another, and so 
on. But, before leaving the site of your bivouac, 
blaze a tree and pencil on it the time of your start 
and the direction you intend to travel in. This will 
be invaluable to your mates if they track you up. 
At intervals of half an hour or so, fire a distress 
signal, if you can spare the ammunition — dont waste 

As you travel, make bush marks and blazes along 
the course. It may be necessary to return; others 
can follow your trail by them; and, if you should 
circle, you will know it when you come across your 
old marks. 

Circling. — ^When a man travels w^here there is 
no outlook over the surrounding country, he is apt 
to "circle." In going around obstacles he may 
choose habitually the same side, and not make 
enough allowance for this tendency when averaging 
up his windings. But many men have an uncon 
scious leaning toward one side or the other, even in 
open country, even on horseback, and will tend to 
travel in a circle unless they frequently check their 
course by compass or landmarks. Just why, we do 
not know. It is said that only an ambidextrous 
man goes straight naturally. Most men swerve to 
the right, and, since most of us are right-handed, it 
may be that when there is nothing else to guide u^ 
we incline toward the stronger side. 

I offer this explanation for what it may be worth. 
Anyway, the tendency to travel in a circle is common 
to most men when they are lost, Mr. C C. Filson 


says that a lost man once came to his camp who had 
walked continuously for six days and nights and was 
only about six miles from his starting point. Five 
hours of travel in any one direction would have 
taken him out of the woods and saved him the sub- 
sequent loss of both feet by freezing. 

To avoid circling, one must travel by landmarks, 
or, where none are visible, as in thick woods, then 
by compass. Consult the instrument every two or 
three minutes, for a slight deviation, persisted in, 
soon swings you far aside. After going around an 
obstacle to the right, even up, by walking as far to 
the left. Don't travel too fast — it would excite you, 
wear you out, and keep you from marking your 
trail as you went along. Keep a stiff upper lip, and 
assure yourself that this is not a tragedy but only an 
interesting adventure — then it will turn out so. 

How to live off the country, in case of being out 
a long time, will be discussed hereafter. 

By the time you get out of this predicament you 
will agree that the art of not getting lost is worth 
studying. Let me now direct our attention to it. 


I never knew a native of the wilderness who used 
a compass to guide him. The born backwoodsman 
rehes upon the sun and stars, the direction of the 
wind, the courses of streams, prominent landmarks, 
and other natural signs of direction. That kind of 
pathfinding will be discussed later. It is essential 
in the education even of an amateur woodsman that 
he should learn to steer a course, over average 
ground and under ordinary conditions, without re- 
course to map or compass ; for one can't be pottering 
over them when hunting or doing anything else of 
absorbing interest. Yet he should never be without 
them in the field; in emergencies they are simply 

On a windless, cloudy day, when boring through 
new country, especially if it be heavily timbered, it 
is quite too easy to lose one's bearings if the compass 
has been left behind. In thick fog or fast-falling 
snow, the best of men may go astray for lack of the 
faithful needle. Make it a rule, then, an Iron rule, 
of wilderness life, never to leave your bed in the 
morning without compass, jackknife, and waterproof 
matchbox filled (fill it, as a matter of habit, every 
time you wind your watch). A small section of 
map showing the principal features of the country 
round about is another mighty good thing to have 
always on your person, no matter how you may be 
dressed for the day or what you may be intending 
to do. There is no telling when you may be called 
off on the keen jump, nor whither you may have to 



For instance: one time a big buck ran right 
through camp while we were cooking dinner; in the 
flurry, everybody grabbed some other fellow's gun, 
somebody wounded the beast, and there was a long 
chase without the least preparation in the world. 
A-gain, we were all out picketing the mountain for a 
bear drive; the bear avoided all the likely crossings 
and slipped by within fifty yards of camp. Now 
suppose you had been left there as camp-keeper for 
the day. You snatch up a gun, fire, find blood on 
the trail, follow it a couple of hours, and then — 
"where are you at?" 

Aside from their value in emergencies, the compass 
and map are particularly useful to keep you out of 
trouble. The best advice in the world is "Don't get 
lost." The only way to make reasonably sure of 
that is to mind your P's and Q's (or rather your 
N and S) m advance. For example: 

Base Lines. — ^You have camped in a pleasant bit 
of flat-woods, on the margin of a stream, at A (Fig. 
3 ) . In the morning you decide to go out by yourself 
for a look-see, not hunting, of course, but just to get 
a good idea of the lay of the land. You know that 
the river runs north and south. Simplest thing in 
the world, then, to tramp eastward a couple of hours, 
and return in time for dinner. You can't cross that 
river without knowing it, and camp is right on the 
river bank, you know. 

The forest is fairly open for the first mile or so 
and you steer an approximately straight course. 
Then you strike bogs and thickets, not bad ones nor 
big ones, but just enough to make you average your 
windings by glancing at the compass now and then. 
Presently the going is better, and you continue nearly 
straight east until you reach B, when it is time to 
return. You are sure that your course has been 
almost due east, and that you are about four miles 
from camp. You take compass bearings due west 
as far as you can see out, and back you .^o. Bu/ 


you can't trail your own foot-prints. It would take 
one of Fenimore Cooper's redskins to do so over 
this firm ground covered with dry fallen leaves. No 
matter: you have a compass, haven't you? 

Soon, at a point where your outbound course bore 
a bit northerly, you pass it, unknowingly, by 
going straight back west. You feel certain that you 
are steering right; for that compass is in your hand 
half the time. 

Y ^ ^ V w f 

Fig. 3. — Need of Base line 

Hang it! here is a bog. To the left it looks im- 
practicable. You go around to the right, and then 
carefully even up the winding by swerving left an 
equal distance. Some lesser curves hereafter are 
allowed for in the same way. Finally you come 
out on the river. You knoiu your return course has 
been very nearly due west. But the confounded 
river doesn't look a bit like it did at camp! You 
struggle to the bank through thick undergrowth, 
and when you get there you can't see two hundred 
yards of the stream in either direction. There is a 
jungle to the water's edge. 


Well, you are either above or below camp. But 
which? Maybe old Leatherstocking could tell; but 
you can't, to save your life. You might as well 
pitch a penny for it. At random you turn down- 
stream. Very soon you come to an abrupt bend 
going westward. There was no indication of such 
a bend close to camp. Probably the tents are up- 
stream, you say. So you turn about-face and go 
north. Still an utterly strange river. 

By one o'clock you realize that you are going 
wrong. Camp couldrit be so far off from where 
you struck the river. So you turn wearily back 
downstream, and, late in the afternoon you reach 
camp, feeling like a fool, and silently swearing never 
to tell a soul the true story of your misadventure. 

This is one of the simplest cases of "bumfuzzle- 
ment" that I can think of. It might have been 
complicated by any of a hundred difficulties or mis' 
haps that are common in the wilderness. Yet, 
simple as it was, it gave you no little anxiety and 
it ended in humiliation. 

The trouble was that you started out in the 
wrong way. You should have explored a few miles 
of the river first. This would have given you a 
known base-line, to which you could return with 
perfect confidence from any direction. You could 
have marked that base-line with blazes every half- 
mile or thereabouts, on which were penciled the 
number of minutes' travel each location was from 
camp, the arrangement of blazes showing which way 
camp lay. 

Where there is no river, road, or range of hills, 
running in a long continuous line to serve as base — ■ 
nothing, say, but trackless forest — the first thing to 
do is to run such a line by compass, spotting the 
trees, as will be described hereafter. I am assuming, 
here, that camp is to remain in one place for some 

Trail Making. — Various kinds of blazed trails 
will be described in the next chapter. There is z 



way that 1 consider better for a man or a party 
venturing into strange woods where there are few 
if any old trails — better because it always shows 
which way camp lies, and because it takes much less 
labor than spotting trees so close together that the 
next blaze ahead can always be seen from the one 
preceding it. At such intervals as may be required, 
blaze a tree here and there along the course, with 
one spot on the side away from camp (Fig. 4) anc*. 
two on the opposite side (Fig, 5), Even when a 

Fig. 4. — One Blaze 
/4-way from Camp 

Fig. 5. — Two blazes 
To-wavd Camp 

man is bewildered he can remember "A blaze means 
a-way from, two blazes means /o-ward." 

A blaze with a hack below It (simply drive the 
hatchet into the bark and draw it out) is easier and 
quite as effective. And between the blazed trees, 
at such intervals that you can see one from another, 
or as circumstances may require, make bush marks 
(Fig. 6). A bush mark is made by bending over 
the top of a green and leafy bush in the direction 
you are going, snapping the stem (if necessary clip- 
ping it half through with knife or hatchet) but let- 
ting it adhere by part of the wood and bark so that 
the under side of the bushy top will "look at you" 

Outgoing Course- 


when you return. The under side of the leaves, 
being of lighter shade than the upper, makes such a 
bush sign conspicuous In the woods. Marks like 
these can be made without slacking one's pace. 

Where a bend In the trail Is made, the blazes, in- 
stead of being opposite, should follow the bend, of 

Blazing trees Is prohibited on public lands, and the 
practice should be limited to remote regions where 
there are no regular trails. A blaze is everlasting, 
so long as the tree stands, and may cause trouble 
over land boundaries In years to come. Where un- 
derbrush is scarce. It may be necessary to spot the 
trees, but generally It will suffice merely to hack o£F 
a bit of the outer bark as big as your hand, without 
cutting into the sapwood. 

The snow-laden limbs of 
low evergreen trees may 
droop so low as to conceal 
blazes on the trunks, and 
driving snow may cover 
them anyway, on any kind 
of tree. Consequently bush 
marks are more reliable 
than blazes in winter, if 
the snow Is not too deep. 
In average country, bush 
marks alone will suffice. 

When ^oing out on an 
old trail for the first timq 
make such a mark where- 
ever you might be in doubt 
on the return, as where the trail forks, or where it 
is overgrown or faint. If there are no bushes, jab 
a stick into the side of the trail, sloping toward 
camp, or arrange a few stones in the form of an 
arrow-head, pointing the way. 

Of course, such precautions as these are only to 
be taken on new ground, and then only according; 
to circumstances. Nowadays our wilderness travel 

Fig. 6.— Bush Mark 


is usually in regions where there are regular trails 
that are soon learned and which serve then as base- 
lines, or where mountains, streams, lakes, and other 
physical features are so prominent that it is easy to 
learn the lay of the land. 

In thick woods, canebr^^.kes, swamps, big thickets, 
and other places where the course is necessarily very 
tortuous, a compass is of little use while one is on 
the march. Wherever the traveler can get an out- 
look he fixes on some landmark in advance, notes 
how the sun strikes him when facing the mark, and 
thenceforth averages up his windings as well as he 
can. The compass is only of service when he can 
no longer see the sun, and is in doubt as to the 
direction he is traveling in. 

In the wilderness one never knows when he may 
want to retrace his steps. Hence, when passing 
anything that has particularly caught his eye, let him 
turn and see how it looks from the other side. 

Rough Travel. — The way to find game, or to 
get the best of anything else that the forest hides, is 
not to follow well-beaten paths. One must often 
make his own trails, and go where the going is 
hardest. As he travels through the unbroken woods 
he may come, now and then, to a glade where the 
trees do not crowd each other, where the under- 
growth is sparse, and the Yitw so unobstructed that 
he can see to shoot for a hundred yards in any direc- 
tion ; such spots may be about as common, relatively, 
as are safe anchorages and deep-water harbors along 
the coast. But part of the time, a wanderer in the 
forest primeval must pick a way for his feet over 
uneven ground that is covered with stubs, loose 
stones, slippery roots, crooked saplings, mixed down- 
wood, and tough, thorny vines. He is forever busy 
seeking openings, parting bushes, brushing away cob- 
webs, fending of¥ springy branches, crawling over or 
under fallen trees, working around impenetrable 
tangles, or trying to find a foot-log or a ford. There 
is no such thing as a short-cut. It is bevond the 


power of man to steer a straight course, or to keep 
up a uniform cadence of his steps. 

Unless the traveler knows his ground there is no 
telling when he may come to a "windfall" where 
several acres of big timber have been overthrown by 
a hurricane and the great trees lie piled across each 
other in an awkward snarl. Or maybe there is an 
alder or spruce thicket or a cedar swamp in the way, 
or a canebrake or a cypress slough, or a laurel or 
rhododendron "slick," wherein a man will soon ex- 
haust his strength to no purpose. If he be so unwise 
as to try to force a passage. 

A brule or burnt-wood is a nasty place to pass 
through. Every foot of ground that Is not covered 
by charred snags, or fallen trunks and limbs, bristles 
with a new growth of fireweed, blackberry and rasp- 
berry briers, young red cherries, white birches, pop- 
lars, quaking aspens, scrub oaks, or gray pines. 
Where the fire has occurred on one of those barren 
ridges that was covered with dwarfish oaks (post, 
black, or blackjack), the sharp, fire-hardened stubs 
of limbs protrude, like bayonets, at the height of 
one's face, menacing his eyes. 

An old "lumber works," where the trees have 
been chopped out, leaving nothing but stumps, tree- 
tops, and other debris, grows up with the same rank 
tenants as a burnt-wood, and is as mean to flounder 
through. As a general rule, a mile and a half an 
hour of actual progress is "making good time" in 
the woods. 

Crossing Streams. — If you have to cross a deep, 
rocky ravine or dangerous mountain stream by pass- 
ing over a high foot-log or fallen tree, then, If the 
log Is tilted at an uncomfortable angle, or If its sur- 
face is wet, or icy, or treacherous with loose bark, 
or If, for any reason, you fear dizziness or falntness, 
don't be ashamed to get down and straddle the log, 
and "coon It," hunching j^ourself along with hands 
and thighs. Let your companions laugh, if they 
will. It is not nice to break a limb when you are 


in a countr}'^ so rough that your comrades may have 
to pack you out, by each, in turn, carrying you on 
his own back and crawling w^ith you. 

Where there is no foot-log, a narrow stream may 
be crossed by using a jumping-pole, or^ if it is too 
deep for that, by a rope or vine swung from an over- 
hanging tree and doubled back. 

Before fording, if the weather is cold, take off 
trousers and drawers and tie them to your pack, but 
keep your shoes on, lest you slip on smooth rocks. 
If the stream is swift, cut a stout pole, longer than 
yourself, with which to sound ahead of j^ou and to 
brace yourself against the current by planting it 
downstream at each step. 

In flat country the shallowest part of a stream 
is usually where the near bank makes the longest, 
sharpest point, and it runs diagonally toward a 
projection of the opposite bank, either up or down- 
stream. The widest part of a river generally is 
the shallowest. The inside of a sharp bend is deep. 
In swift-flowing streams look for fords above the 

Fording swift water is easiest with a heavy pack 
to help hold one down ; but sling it so it will slip 
off if you stumble — otherwise it may drown you. 
Several men in company can cross a stream too swift 
for one at a time, if they cut a long pole and cross 
abreast, holding the pole horizontally in front of 
them with each man grasping it. The heaviest man 
should be on the downstream side. 

To avoid mud and quicksand, look for pebbles on 
the bottom. 

Use of Divides. — Rivers are often spoken of a? 
having been man's natural highways in the days 
before roads. This was true only to a limited ex- 
tent. A few great rivers such as the Hudson, the 
Ohio, the Mississippi, and the Missouri, were high- 
ways for down-stream travel, and smaller waterways 
were, and still are, used in summer in the muskeg 
country of the North, where land travel is imprac- 


ticable until everything freezes up. But the general 
rule of aboriginal travel was to keep away from 
streams and follow the ridges between them. This 
rule still holds good when a party travels afoot or 
with pack-train in a country where there are no 

Fig. 7. — Use of Divides 

bridges. A glance at the accompanying diagram 
(Fig. 7) will show why. 

In this figure, AG represents a river, and CF the 
main divide or summit of watershed separating it 
from another river basin. It is assumed that a party 
afoot or with horses desires to advance from A to G. 
Evidently, if they try to follow either bank of the 
main stream, they will have many fords to make, not 


only crossing tributaries here and there, but fording 
or swimming the main stream itself, many times, 
where cliffs, bogs, or impenetrable thickets make one 
of the banks impassable. 

If the region through which the river runs is 
wide bottom-land, the mouths of its tributaries are 
likely to be deep, or to run over fathomless mud as 
dangerous as quicksand, and this will necessitate 
long detours. The vegetation up to the very bank 
of the river will be exceedingly rank, a wretched 
tangle of bushes, vines, briers, and tall grass, and 
fallen trees will be plentiful and large. At any 
time a heavy rainstorm may send the river out of its 
banks, and the party may find itself marooned where 
it can neither go forward nor backward. On the 
other hand, if the river runs through a mountainous 
country, it is probable that the travelers will come 
to a canon that will compel them to retreat. In any 
case, the party will never have an outlook; it will 
never know what lies beyond the next bend of th^ 

A comparatively easy way around all of these 
difficulties is shown by the dotted line ABDEG. 
Leaving the river by a ridge that leads to the main 
divide, and following the crest to a similar abutting 
ridge that runs down to the valley at the objective 
point, there will be no fords to make, the footing 
will be much better because vegetation is thinner on 
the more sterile, wind-swept heights, the fallen trees 
will be smaller, there will be no mud or quicksand 
or miry bogs, and every here and there a coign of 
vantage will be climbed from which a far outlook 
can be had over the surrounding country. 

The chief precaution to be observed in trying to 
follow a divide where there is no trail, or where 
there are many intersecting trails, Is not to stray off 
on some abutting ridge. Thus, at the points B and 
D there may be in each case a gap between knolls or 
peaks, and the lead to the left might easily be mis- 
taken for the main divide. If the X)arty were enticed 


along either of these leads, on account of its trending 
in the desired direction, it would soon find itself in 
a cul de sac. 

Celestial Guides. — The sun by day and the 
stars by night are Nature's chief guides for the 
traveler. So long as the sun is visible anyone can 
tell, in a general way, the direction in which he is 
going. To find the sun on a cloudy day: hold a 
knife-blade or other thin, flat article perpendicularly 
on the thumb-nail, watch-case, or any glossy surface, 
and slowly twirl it around. It will cast a faint 
shadow, unless the day is very dark. Choose an 
open spot in the woods for this, rather than under 
the trees, and don't try it near noon, when little 
shadow would be cast anyway. 

How to find the North Star is shown at the end 
of Chapter V, 



Sameness of the Forest. — All dense woods 
look much alike. Trees of most species grow very 
tall in a forest that has never been cut over, their 
trunks being commonly straight and slender, with no 
branches within, say, forty feet of the ground. This 
is because they cannot live without sunlight for their 
leaves, and they can only reach sunlight by growing 
tall like their neighbors that crowd around them. 
As the young tree shoots upward, its lower limbs 
atrophy and drop off. To some extent the character- 
istic markings of the trunk that distinguish the differ- 
ent species when they grow in the open, and to a 
greater extent their characteristic habits of branch- 
ing, are neutralized when they grow in dense forest. 
Consequently a man who can readily tell one. species 
from another, in open country, by their bark and 
branching habits, may be puzzled to distinguish them 
in aboriginal forest. Moreover, the lichens and 
mosses that cover the boles of trees, in the deep shade 
of a primitive wood, give them a sameness of aspect, 
so that there is some excuse for the novice who says 
that **all trees look alike" to him. 

The knowled2;e of trees that can be gained, first 
from books and secondly from studies of trees them- 
selves in city parks or in country wood-lots, must be 
supplemented by considerable experience in the real 
wilderness before one can say with confidence, by 
merely glancing at the bark, "that is a soft maple, 
and the other is a sugar-tree." And yet, I do not 
tinow any study that, in the long run, would be 



more serviceable to the amateur woodsman than to 
get a good manual of American trees and then go 
about identifying the species in his neighborhood. 
Having gained some facility in this, then let him 
turn to studying peculiarities of individual growth. 
Such self-training, which can be carried out almost 
anywhere, will make him observant of a thousand 
and one little marks and characteristics that are 
sign-boards and street-numbers in the wilds. 

What to Notice. — After a novice has had some 
preliminary training of the kind I have indicated, so 
that all things in the woods no longer look alike to 
him, he will meet another difficulty. His memory 
will be swamped! It is utterly impossible for any 
man, whether he be red, white, black, or yellow, to 
store up in his mind all the woodland marks and 
signs that one can see in a mile's tramp, to say noth- 
ing of the infinite diversity that he encounters in a 
long journey. Now, here is just where a skilled 
woodcraftsman has an enormous advantage over any 
and all amateurs. He knows what is common, and 
pays no attention to it ; he knows what is uncommon, 
't catches his eye at once, and it interests him, so that 
he need make no effort to remember the thing. This 
disregard for the common elimmates at once three- 
fourths, yes, nine-tenths, of the trees, plants, 
rocks, etc., from his consideration; it relieves his 
memory of just that much burden. He will pass a 
hundred birch trees without a second glance, until 
his eye is riveted by a curly birch. Why riveted? 
Because curly birch is valuable. In the bottom 
lands he will scarcely see a sour gum, or a hundred 
of them ; but let him come across one such tree on 
top of the ridge, and he will wonder how it chanced 
to stray so far from home. And so on, through all 
categories of woodland features. A woodsman 
notices such things as infallibly, and with as little 
conscious effort, as a woman notices the crumbs and 
lint on her neighbor's carpet. 
The Homing Instinct_(?) — ^We hear much 


about the "innate sense of direction," the "extra- 
ordinary bump of locality," of savages and of certain 
white woodcraftsmen. "A good woodsman," we are 
told, "finds his way, just as an animal does, by a 
certain kind of instinct." If by this is meant that 
some men are born with a "gift," a sixth sense or 
homing instinct comparable to that of a carrier 
pigeon, I am more than sceptical. In the art of 
wilderness travel, as in other things, some men are 
more adept than others who have had equal advan- 
tages, and a few possess almost uncanny powers, 
amounting to what we call genius. To my notion 
this means little more than that some individuals 
are quicker to observe than others, reason more 
surely from cause to effect, and keep their minds 
more alert; and I believe that this is far more due 
to their taking unusual interest in their surroundings 
than to any marked partiality of Mother Nature in 
distributing her gifts. Instinct will work as well in 
one place as in another, but human "sense of direc- 
tion" will not. 

This is not saying that all men are born equal as 
regards the faculty of orientation; some have a 
fcnack ; but that knack is not an instinct ; It Is worth- 
less until sharpened and trained by experience. 

Let me illustrate. — In the Great Smoky Moun- 
tains, which separate part of North Carolina from 
Tennessee, the "standers" in a bear drive are sta- 
tioned along the main divide, or near It, at elevations 
of from 4,000 to 6,000 feet. We are out in all sorts 
of weather. The chase may continue from dawn 
Until midnight, the bear perhaps running ten or fif- 
teen miles through the roughest of all this rough 
country. At almost any time clouds may descend 
upon us, or ascend from below, and the fog, as we 
call it, is sometimes so thick that a man cannot see 
thirty feet in any direction. It may lift in five 
minutes, or It may continue for a day, two days, 
three days — there is no foretelling. It may be ac- 
f-ompanied by drenching rain, or by a keen wind, or 


may turn into a snowstorm ; so we cannot sit around 
waiting on the chance of its rising. 

Below the balsam zone (5,000 to 6,000 feet) the 
leaves, in autumn and early winter, lie very thickly 
upon the ground, so that a scurry of wind may at 
any moment obliterate the trail for some distance. 
When a cloud settles upon the mountain, a man 
hurrying along to get into the valley before nightfall, 
and over-confident, perhaps, of his bearings, may 
easily miss the trail and find himself on the wrong 
ridge — where? Once of¥ the trail, there are no 
blazes to guide him, and the going gets worse and 
worse until it becomes damnable. If one could 
see out, he would not hesitate; but he cannot see a 
tree two rods away. 

In such case, it is of serious Import for a man to 
decide, rather promptly, upon which particular ridge 
he may have straggled ; for many of these ridges are 
very thickety, some of them lead Into laurel "hells," 
and on others one's progress is impeded by cliffs. 
To descend immediately into a creek valley would 
be the worst thing he could do, for the headwaters 
generally rise in almost impenetrable thickets of 
laurel and rhododendron, and their beds are rough 
and steep. 

Now, what does a mountaineer do In such dilem- 
ma? Trust to instinct? Not a bit of It. Our 
strayed man might not be able to explain the process, 
he probably would not even be conscious of the In- 
finitude of details involved, he might lay it all to 
"woods sense" and let you credit him with a mys- 
terious "gift"; but this Is what he would do: first, 
he would scan the trees and shrubs, closely observing 
their prevailing habit of growth ; then he w^ould 
examine the ground itself ; he would move about like 
a dog scenting for a track; presently he would find 
evidence, not single, but collective — gathered from 
many sources — which his memory and reasoning 
powers would combine Into a theory of locality, and, 
five times out of six, his theory would prove correct. 




I have known a mountaineer, on a pitch-dark night, 
to identify the ridge he was on by feeling the trees; 
and there were no blazes on those trees, either. 

Our mountaineers know the peculiarities and 
variations of their home hunting-grounds most 
thoroughly, so far as they relate to the hunter's and 
herdsm?.n's arts, and from this intimate local knowl- 
edge they have gained certain general signs of direc- 
tion that are fairly reliable throughout all the main 
ranges of the Southern Appalachians (mountains 
densely covered with more varied forest growth 
than any others in the world). So they have not 
the least hesitation about traveling into unknown 
parts for a week at a stretch, and without a compass, 
even though they may get into fog so thick that, as 
they quaintly say, **You could nigh stick your but- 
cher-knife into It and hang up your shot-pouch.'* 

But there Is no dog-like or pigeon-like instinct 
about this. I can take one of these same men to 
the city of Boston and get him thoroughly lost within 
half a mile of his hotel. If he had the homing 
instinct he could find his own way back on the city 
Btreets ; but he has not the ghost of such endowment. 
He Is bewildered by the maze of things new to him, 
as a city man Is In the forest. His attention is 
attracted to other things than signs of direction: sa 
he goes astray. 

Nature's Guide-Posts. — ^There are tw^o ques- 
tions that woodsmen will argue, I suppose, until 
doomsday. Having given my views on one of them^ 
I may as well tackle the other, and then have done 
with controversy. Are there any natural signs of 
direction that will give a man his bearings when the 
sky is obscured ? Every one has heard, for example, 
that **moss growls thickest on the north side of a 
tree," and nearlv every one has heard this as flatly 
contradicted. The general opinion seems to be that 
such sl^ns are ''Important If true." The Indianr 
and white frontiersmen of fiction never have any 
difficulty in finding their way by noting where moss 


grows thickest on the trees; but when our novel- 
reader goes into the woods, compass in hand, and 
puts the thing to actual test, he probably will be 
disgusted to find that, in densely shaded primeval 
forest, there seems to be no regularity in the growth 
of moss, one tree having a thick laj^er of it on the 
north side, another on the east, another on the south, 
and so on. He is then ready to declare that the old 
saying is a "fake." 

I shall endeavor to show that there is more in this 
matter than is generally credited. There are certain 
signs of direction that are fairly constant in given 
regions, so that by their help a native, or even a 
stranger who has good powers of observation, some 
patience, and a fair knowledge of the life habits of 
trees and plants, can steer his course without a com- 
pass, and without help from sun or stars. But let 
us clearly understand what is involved in this use 
of nature's compass-marks. 

No universal rule can be established from such 
signs as the growth of moss on trees, the preponder- 
ance of branches on one side of a tree, or the direc- 
tion toward which the tips of tall conifers point. 
Such things are modified by prevailing winds, 
shadows and shelter of nearby mountains, depth or 
sparseness of forest growth, and other local condi- 
tions. Every^vhere exceptions will be found ; if 
there were none, it would be child's play, not wood- 
craft, to follow such signs. 

No one sign is infallible. A botanist can tell the 
north side of a steep hill from the south side by 
examining the plant growth: but no one plant of 
itself will tell him the story. So a woodsman works 
out his course by a system of averaging the signs 
around him. It is this averaging that demands 
genuine skill. It takes into account the prevailing 
winds of the region, the lay of the land, the habits 
of shade-loving and moisture-loving plants (and 
Aiheir opposites), the tendency of certain plants to 
^oint their leaves or their tips persistently in a car- 


tain direction, the growth of tree bark as influenced 
by sun and shade, the nesting habits of certain ani- 
mals, the morning and evening flight of birds, and 
other natural phenomena, depending upon the 
general character of the country traversed. More- 
over, in studying any one sign, a nice discrimination 
must be exercised. Let us glance at a few examples: 

Moss ON Trees. — First, as to the time-honored 
subject of moss — not confusing real moss with the 
parasitic lichens that incrust rocks and trees. Moss 
favors that part of a tree that holds the most mois- 
ture; not necessarily the part that receives the most 
moisture, but the part that retains it longest. Con- 
sequently it grows more abundantly on the upper 
side of a leaning tree than on the under side, on 
rough bark than on smooth bark, on top of project- 
ing burls rather than on the lower side, and in the 
forks of trees, and on their buttressed bases. These 
factors are, of course, independent of the points of 
the compass. 

Does it follow, then, that exposure has nothing 
to do with the growth of moss? Not at all. It 
merely follows that a competent woodcraftsman, 
seeking a sign of direction from the moss on trees, 
would ignore leaning trees, uncommonly rough 
bark, bossy knots, forks of limbs, and the bases of 
tree trunks, just as he would give no heed to the 
growth on prostrate logs. He would single out for 
examination the straight shafted old trees of rather 
smooth bark, knowing that on them there would be 
fairly even lodgment for moisture all around, and 
that the wet would evaporate least from the north 
and northeast sides of the tree, as a general rule, 
and, consequently, that on those sides the moss would 
preponderate. He would expect to find such differ- 
ence more pronoun :ed on the edge of thick forests 
than in their densely shaded interior. He would 
give special heed to the evidence of trees that were 
isolated enough to get direct sunlight throughout a 
good portion of the day, while those that were in 


the shade of cliffs or steep mountains so that they 
could only catch the sunbeams in the morning or the 
afternoon would be ruled out of court. 

You see how much more swiftly and surely such 
a man would reach a decision than could one who 
tried to take into account all kinds and conditions 
of trees, regardless of surroundings, and how much 
less he would have to puzzle over contradictory 
evidence. Among a hundred trees he might only 
examine ten, but those ten would be more trust- 
worthy for his purpose than their ninety neighbors. 
This is woodcraft — the genuine article — as dis- 
tinguished from the mysterious and infallible "sixth 
sense" of direction that, I think, exists nowhere out- 
side of Leatherstocking Tales. 

Tips of Conifers. — A rule that holds good in the 
main, wherever I have had a chance to study it, is 
that the feathery tip, the topmost little branch, of a 
towering pine or hemlock, points toward the rising 
sun, that is to say, a little south of east. There are 
exceptions, of course, but I have generally found this 
to be the case in three-fourths of the trees examined, 
leaving out of consideration those growing in deep, 
narrow valleys, or on wind-swept crests. I do not 
know whether it is characteristic of all conifers, 
throughout their ranges; but I commend this pecu- 
liar phenomenon to travelers, for observation. 

Bark and Annual Rings. — The bark of old 
trees is generally thicker on the north and northeast 
sides than on the other sides. A more reliable indi- 
cator of direction, though one that a traveler seldom 
has opportunity to test, is the thickness of annual 
rings of wood growth, which is more pronounced on 
the north than on the south side of a tree. This 
has been noted in widely separated parts of the earth, 
and has been known for many centuries. More 
than four hundred years ago it was mentioned by 
Leonardo da Vinci, that universal genius who was 
scarcely less celebrated as an engineer and scientist 
tb-^n as ?n artist and litterateur. ''The rings of 


trees," wrote Leonardo, ''show how many years they 
have lived, and their greater or smaller size shows 
whether the years were damper or drier. They also 
show the direction in which they were turned, be- 
cause they are larger on the north side than on the 
south, and for this reason the center of the tree is 
nearer the bark on the south than on the north side." 
In 1893 this matter was put to a definite test by the 
New York State Forest Commission, which directed 
Its foresters to examine the regularity of the north- 
ward thickening of annual rings in the black spruce 
of the Adirondacks. The foresters examined 700 
trees, of varying exposure, noting in each case the 
compass-point toward which the longest radius of 
wood growth pointed. The result was: 

North 471 South 1 

Northeast 81 Southeast 

East 106 West 27 

• Southwest 6 

Total north and east. 658 Northwest 8 


Total south and west. 42 


These figures deserve more than a passing glance. 

Compass-Plants. — Some plants show a decided 
polarity in their habit of growth. The compass- 
plant or rosin-weed {Silphium laciniatiun) that once 
abounded on the prairies of the Mississippi valley, 
from Minnesota to Texas, is a conspicuous example. 
It is a tall plant with long, stiff leaves, that do not 
grow horizontally but with their edges perpendicu- 
lar. Its natural habitat is the open, shadeless 
prairie. If plants are examined that grow thus in 
the open, especially those in the little swales where 
they are not fully exposed to fierce winds, it will be 
found that the great majority of them present their 
radical leaves north and south. The large flower 
heads on short, thick stems point, like the hemlock's 
"finger," to the eastward, and show no such ten- 


dency to follow the sun toward the west as Is charac- 
teristic of many plants. I have often used the 
compass-plant as a guide, and never was led astray 
by it; in fact, the old settlers on the prairies, if they 
chanced to get lost on a dark night, would get their 
bearings by feeling the leaves of the compass-plant. 

The closely related prairie dock {Silphium tere- 
binthinaceum) and that troublesome weed known 
as prickly lettuce {Lactuca scariola), show a similar 
polarity. This characteristic is lost if the plants are 
grown where they receive much shade. Of course, 
terrestrial magnetism has nothing to do with the 
polarity of plants; it is the sunlight, received on the 
two sides of the leaves alternately, that determines 
their position. 

But what think you of plant roots that persistently 
grow north and south ? The woodsmen of the Great 
Smoky Mountains declare that there is a *'north-and- 
south plant," as they call it, with two long roots 
that grow respectively north and south. Doctor 
Davis of Ware's Valley, on the Tennessee side 
described it to me as follows: "It resembles wild 
verbena, grows thigh-high, is a rare plant, and 
generally Is found in hollows on the south side of 
mountains. In rocky neighborhoods, near trickling 
streams. Its leaf is serrated, i^ by i Inch, or 
larger, with purple heart, yellow edges, and the rest 
a bright red. Its roots usually do grow north and 
south. The plant is one of the most valuable medi- 
cinally that I know of, particularly for syphilitic 
affections. I do not know it by any other name 
than the native one of North-and-South. I gather 
it when I can find it, and use it in my practice." 
Many others have given me similar reports. I do 
not know the plant; have never hunted systematic- 
ally for It. 

Lost Arts. — I am of the opinion that there are 
natural compass-signs in the forest, and on the plain, 
that we are Ignorant of, but that were well known 
to savages In a state of nature. Such men, depend- 


ent from childhood upon close observation of their 
environment; but observation urged b}^ entirely dif- 
ferent motives from those of our naturalists, and 
directed toward different ends, would inevitably ac- 
quire a w^oodland lore different from ours, but quite 
as thorough in its own way. That they should de- 
velop keen perceptive faculties is no more remarkable 
than that a carpenter should hit a nail instead of 
the thumb that steadies it. That they should notice 
and study signs that no modern hunter or scientist 
M^ould bother his head about is a matter of course. 
Unquestionably we have lost many arts of wildcraft 
that were daily practised by our ancestors of the 
stone age, just as we have lost their acquaintance 
with the habits of animals now extinct. Probably 
no white man of the future will ever equal Jim 
Bridger as a trailer; and it is but natural to suppose 
that Bridger himself had superiors among the 
savages from whom he learned his craft. It is a 
superficial judgment to rate as an old-wives' tale 
every story of exploits in the past that we cannot at 
present duplicate. However, we need not go to 
novelists to find out how such things were done. 
There is much pleasure to be gained in seeking to 
recover some of the lost arts of a primitive age ; and, 
I believe, some profit as well. 

But facts such as I have cited regarding the com- 
pass-signs of the woods are of practical value only 
to men who spend much of their time in the forest, 
lely wholly on themselves as guides, seldom or never 
use instruments, and so have their perceptive facili- 
ties sharpened bevond any keenness that average 
sportsmen are likely to acquire. Carry a compass. 



The chief difficulty in forest travel, especially in 
flat lands that are heavily timbered, is the lack of 
natural outlooks from which one could get a view 
of distant landmarks. Although there are plenty of 
marks in the woods themselves by w^hich a trained 
woodsman can follow a route that he traversed not 
long before, j^t these signs are forever changing, 
vanishing, being superseded by others. Not only do 
new growths spring up, but old ones are swept away, 
sometimes suddenly, as by flood or fire. Hence, 
when men have once picked out a course through the 
woods that they intend to follow again, they leave 
permanent marks along the way for future guidance. 
The most conspicuous and durable waymarks that 
can easily be made are blazes on the trees. It is of 
no little consequence to a traveler in the wilds that 
he should know something about blazes and the 
special uses made of them in the backwoods. 

Blazes. — On a thin-barked tree, a blaze is made 
by a single downward stroke, the axe being held 
almost parallel with the trunk; but if the bark is 
thick, an upward and a downward clip must be 
made, perhaps several of them, because, in any case, 
the object usually is to expose a good-sized spot of 
the whitish sapwood of the tree, which, set in the 
dark framework of the outer bark, is a staring mark 
in the woods, sure to attract attention, at least while 
fresh. Outside of white birch forests, white is the 
most conspicuous color in the woods, until snow falls. 



If a blaze is made merely on the outer bark, it will 
not show so plainly by contrast. This kind of blaze, 
however, may be preferred for some purposes; for 
example, by a trapper who does not want to call 
everybody's attention to where his traps are set. A 
bark-blaze has the peculiarity that it lasts unaltered, 
to long as the bark itself endures, preserving its 
Original outlines and distinctness, no matter how 
tnuch the tree may grow. But if a wound, however 
slight, be made through the bark into the sapwood 
of the tree, so that the sap, which is the tree's blood, 
exudes, a healing process will at once set in, and the 
injury, in time, will be covered over. So, as soon 
as a blaze is made that exposes the wood, the tree 
begins at once to cover up its scar. This is a slow 
process. First the edges of the cut will widen, then 
a sort of lip of smooth new inner bark will form, 
and this will gradually spread inward over the gash. 
Once this new skin has formed, the wound will be 
covered by new annual laj^ers of wood, as well as t)y 
new outer bark. Years after the blaze was made, 
nothing will show on the surface but a slight scar, 
a sign that takes practised eyes to detect and read. 

A blaze always remains at its original height above 
the ground, and, where two or more spots have been 
cut in the same tree, they will always stand at the 
same distance apart. This is because a tree increases 
its height and girth only by building on top of the 
previous growth, not by stretching it. 

Age of Blazes. — The age of a hack or blaze in 
a marked tree is determined by chopping out a billet 
of the wood containing the mark and counting the 
annular rings of growth from bottom of scar out- 
ward, allowing one year for each ring. In counting 
annular growth, some begin with the first soft lamina 
(porous part of year's growth), jumping the first 
hard layer, to the second lamina, and so on. It is 
more accurate to count the hard strata, for the fol- 
lowing reasons: Soft laminae are formed in the 
spring, when the sap is risine. If a hack is made 


at that time it may not show until a hard ring forma 
over it the next fall or winter, when the sap is down. 
If the season has been very dry, there may be two 
runs of sap, hence a double soft ring that year. A 
mark made in wood when the sap is down (after 
the fall of leaves) can have its age determined very 
positively, but if made when the fresh sap is up it 
may be hard to say whether the mark goes through 
that year's growth or only to it. 

On some kinds of trees, if a blaze goes through 
to the sap wood, the scar on the bark is hard to 
identify as an ax mark, because the wood, in grow- 
ing, spreads it. 

The age of an axe mark is hard to determine in 
birch, and impossible in tupelo or winged elm, 
owing to irregularity of fiber. 

A blaze on a frozen tree makes a bad wound. 

A mark on the sheltered side of a tree does not 
look nearly so old as one opposite, because moisture 
accumulated makes the bark rot off from the weather 

Blazes on the bark of chestnut, tulip poplar, 
young white oak, many locusts, and some other 
trees, are not apt to be permanent because these trees 
shed their bark more or less and do not retain marks 
so well as beech, black birch, Spanish oak, mountain 
oak, and other close-barked trees. Bark that scales 
does not hold moss. 

Following a Line. — Most old woods trails are 
blazed on only one side of the tree, the side facing 
the trail, so as to be seen from either direction. 
Spotted trails (opposite sides blazed as previously 
described) are seldom made by professional woods- 
men except where there is unusual danger of losing 
the way. 

An old line of blazes on spruce or pine trees is 
much easier to follow than if made on non-resinous 
trees, because the resin deposited by the oozing sap 
leaves a very noticeable and durable mark. Simi- 
iarlv, when an inscription has been penciled or 


painted on a fresh blaze on a pine tree, the sap 
glazes over the mark and makes it almost imperish- 

In searching out a line of blazes, one should keep 
his eyes glancing horizontally along a plane about 
breast-high, because that is the height at which sur- 
veyors leave their marks, and others usually follow 
the custom, unless the line has been spotted by a man 
on horseback, or from a boat during time of overflow. 

When a blazed line turns abruptly, so that 9^ 
person following might otherwise overrun it, a long 
slash is made on that side of the tree which faces the 
new direction. 

It is difficult to follow a line of blazes when snow 
is falling, because the wind drives the damp flakes 
against the tree, where they adhere, and must be 
brushed away to find the blaze. 

Now, it is often of much consequence to a traveler 
to remember such facts as these. For example, there 
is nothing more common in the annals of misadven- 
ture than for a novice to stray off on a deer trail, or, 
in southern forests, on a cattle trail, which, although 
seductively plain at first, leads nowhere in particular 
and soon dwindles to nothing. When undecided, 
look for blazes along the path. In heavily timbered 
regions, such as we are now considering, any trail 
that is, or ever has been, used as a highway by white 
men is likely to have been blazed. 

Again, it is often of moment to determine, when 
one strikes a strange trail, what its nature is — for 
what purpose it was made — and thus be able to 
figure out whether it is likely to lead directly to a 
settlement or camp. This ought not to be very 
difficult when one knows what classes of men have 
preceded him in this particular forest. Generally 
speaking, a line spotted in a wide forest that as yet 
has no farmers' clearings is likely to have been made 
by either (i) a trapper, (2) a lumberman or timber- 
looker, or (3) a surveyor. 

A Trapper's Line usually leads from one stream 


or lake to another. The blazes are likely to ba 
inconspicuous. The line probably meanders a good 
deal, but not to escape ordinary obstacles, not dis- 
daining a steep climb for a short-cut. Along its 
course, at intervals of eight or ten miles, there are 
probably rude shanties containing supplies or the 
ruins of such shacks, if the line is no longer used. 
Such a line does not lead to any settlement, and can 
seldom be of any use to a wayfarer. 

A Lumberman's Line. — Timber-lookers may or 
may not leave evidence of their wanderings — more 
likely not, for, like other seekers after bonanzas, they 
may have excellent reasons for not doing so. At 
most, they would merely mark the easiest route for 
a prospective road from the river to some "bunch" 
of timber. Where logging operations have already 
begun, then, wherever a stump stands it will not be 
hard to determine the direction in which the logs 
were twitched to the nearby "lizard road," where 
they were loaded on lizards (forks of timber used 
as sleds), or on wagons, and dragged to the river or 
saw-mill. (I am assuming primitive operations in a 
remote wilderness.) The lizard road was blazed 
when first laid out. Logs are never dragged uphill 
if that can be avoided ; consequently the trend of 
the road will be downhill, or on a level. The lizard 
road will show ruts, trees barked along the way by 
whiffle-trees, and other characteristic marks. Wher- 
ever there is a bridge or a corduroyed road the tim- 
bers will be worn most on the side opposite the camp, 
because heavy loads were drawn toward camp, not 
away from it. Once the old lumber-camp site is 
reached, even though It be long deserted, the signs 
of an old "tote road" can be discerned, leading to- 
ward a settlement from which supplies were trans- 

A Surveyor's Line is absolutely straight (with 
exception noted below). When it reaches an im- 
passable obstacle, such as a swamp or a cliff, an 
offset is made to right or left; but this offset Is also 


a straight line, at right angles, of course, to the main 
one, the latter being continued in the original direc- 
tion as soon as the obstacle has been passed. For 
this, and other reasons that presently will appear, 
a surveyor's line can never be mistaken for any other. 

Surveyors are careful to space their marks more 
uniformly than hunters and trappers and loggers. 
They cut rather square into the tree, at right angles, 
so that the weather may not wear away the marks 
nor the tree become diseased and so obliterate them. 

Old Surveys. — The old states of the East and 
South were surveyed before there were any Govern- 
ment regulations for such work, and had methods 
of their own for marking lines and corners, varying 
from place co place. In the rougher regions such 
work was likely to be slipshod. Old-time surveyors 
in the mountains often ran lines that w^ere winding, 
because they had no flagmen to keep the line straight. 
It was difficult to keep sight marks. Measurements 
often were inaccurate. The chain was likely to go 
too low up a ridge and too high in crossing hollows. 
Mere surface surveying was practised over logs, 
rocks, etc. Chains were intentionally made over- 
length to allow for this. 

The practice of measuring by half-chains in rough 
country led to many errors of counting, by dropping 
a link, and so on. Few of the old surveyors were 
careful about variations of the compass. In fact, 
I have known backwoods surveyors who were ignor- 
ant of the change in magnetic meridian. 

Modern Surveys. — Throughout most parts of 
the West, the method of numbering, subdividing, 
and marking township sections is that adopted by 
the public land surveys, a brief description of which 
is given belovv^ If one understands the merest rudi- 
ments of public surveying, and has a township map 
of the locality, then, whenever he runs across a sec- 
tion line, he can soon tell exactly where he is, and 
what is the most direct route to any other point in 
ihe neighborhood. 


:amping and woodcraft 

It is common practice, wherever a regular trail 
crosses one of these lines, to square or face on four 
sides a tree or two standing close by, drawing the 
traveler's attention to the line. These survey lines 
may be of practical use to him in various ways. By 
them he can determine exactly the position of his 
camp with reference to the surrounding country. 
He can locate any point that he desires to visit or 
revisit, such as a cache, a mineral deposit, a piece 
of land that he may wish to purchase, and so on. 

If he gets lost, it is 
somewhere within half 
a mile, or less, of a sur- 
vey line, which will take 
him to a marked corner 
from which he can learn 
his position. 

Township and Sec- 
tion Lines. — The pub- 
lic lands of the United 
Stales are divided into 
townships, usually of six 
Pig. 8.-Plan for Numbering miles square (23,040 
Sections of a Township acres), as nearly as_ con- 
vergence of meridians 
allows. A township is sub-divided into thirty-six 
sections, each one mile square, as nearly as may be, 
which, as a general rule, are numbered as shown in 
Fig. 8, and are legally subdivided as indicated in 
Fig. 9. 

Starting from an established corner, all trees that 
stand directly on the line of survey have two chops 
or notches cut on each side of them, without any 
other marks whatever. These are called "sight 
trees*' or "line trees" (sometimes "fore and aft 
trees"). Since there may not be enough trees 
actually intercepting the line of sight to make such 
a line conspicuous, a sufficient number of other treer. 
standing within not more than two rods of the line, 







































on either side of it, are blazed on two sides diagon- 
ally, or quartering toward the line, or coinciding in 
direction with the line where the trees stand very 
near it. Blazes are not omitted where trees two 
inches or more in diameter are found on or near 
the line. 

Where trees are scarce, bushes on or near the line 
are bent at right angles therewith, and receive a blow 
with the axe at the usual height of blazes from the 


---315- • 




s.w:!i I 

"*" ** J" "" , T "" *" "^ CSctdhT 

Fig. 9 — Subdivision of Sections 

ground, sufficient to leave them in a bent position, 
but not to prevent growth. 

When the course is obstructed by swamps, lakes, 
or other impassable objects, the line is prolonged 
across by taking the necessary right angle offsets, or 
by traverse, etc., until the line is regained on the 
opposite side. At the intersection of lines on both 
margins, a post is set for a witness point, and two 
trees on opposite sides of the line are here markecJ 


with a blaze and notch facing the post; but on the 
margins of navigable rivers or lakes the trees are 
marked with the number of the fractional section, 
township, and range. Arabic figures are used ex- 

Corner Marks. — The following corners are 
marked : 

(i) For township boundaries, at intervals of 
every six miles. 

(2) For section boundaries, at intervals of every 

(3) For quarter-section boundaries, at intervals of 
one-half mile (with exceptions). 

(4) Meander corners, wherever lines intersect 
banks of rivers, etc., directed to be meandered. 

Witness corners bear the same marks as those of 
true corners, plus the letters W. C. 

Four different modes of perpetuating corners are 
employed, in the following order of choice: 

( 1 ) Corner trees, when a tree not less than five 
inches in diameter stands immediately in place. 

(2) Stone corners, where procurable. These 
must be at least 14 inches long. Stones 14 to 18 
inches long are set two-thirds and larger ones three- 
fourths of their length in the ground. 

(3) Posts and witnesses. The latter are trees 
adjacent, in opposite directions, each with a smooth 
blaze facing the corner, with a notch at the lower 
end, and with the number of township, range, and 
section; below this, near the ground, on a smooth 
blaze are marked the letters B. T. ("bearing tree"). 
Blazes may be omitted from smooth-barked trees. 
Where there are no trees, witness pits are dug, two 
feet square, and at least one foot deep. 

(4) Posts and mounds. A mound is erected 
around the corner post, and a marked stone, or some 
charcoal, or a charred stake, is deposited a foot below 
the surface on the side toward which the line runs. 

Township Corner Post. — This projects two feet 
above the ground, the projecting part being squared. 


When the corner Is common to four townships, the 
post is set cornerwise to the lines, and on each flat- 
tened side is marked the number of the township, 
range, and section, thus: T. i S.; R. 2 W.; S. 36. 

This example reading "Township i South, Range 
2 West, Section 36." Six notches are cut on each of 
the four edges. 

If the post is on a closing corner, where the line 
does not continue straight ahead, but is offset to 
allow for convergence of meridians, this closing 
corner being common to two townships south of the 
base line, six notches are cut on each of the east, 
south, and west sides, but none on the north, and 
C. C. ("closing corner") is cut on the surface. 

The position of all township corner posts is wit- 
nessed by four "bearing trees," or pits, or stones. 
Bearing trees are marked like the post; stones are 
merely notched. 

Section Corners. — ^When the corner is common to 
four sections, the post is set cornerwise to the lines, 
the numbers of sections being marked on the surfaces 
facing them, and on the northeast face the number 
of township and range is inscribed. All mile-posts 
on township lines have as many notches on the two 
corresponding edges as they are miles distant from 
the respective township corners. Section posts in 
the interior of a township have as many notches on 
the south and east edges as they are miles from the 
south and east boundaries of the township, but none 
on the north and west edges. All section posts are 
"witnessed" as above. Section corner stones are 
merely notched. 

Quarter-section Corners. — ^These are merely 
marked ^4 ^nd "witnessed." 

Red chalk is used to make marks more con- 

Use of the Compass. — In Volume I (pp. 168- 
169) some advice was given as to selecting a com- 
pass. Let me repeat that it should be of hunting 
case pattern, not only because an open faced one 


is easily broken, but because a cover helps to exclude 
dust and moisture. The least moisture under the 
glass will cause the needle to stick (if dampness gets 
inside anyway, dry the compass by a gentle heat: too 
much heat will destroy the magnetism). And there 
is another reason: the friction of one's pocket on the 
glass of a compass may magnetize it and attract the 
needle (touching the glass with a wet finger will 
remedy this). 

You may have a pocket compass of surveyor's pat- 
tern, such as the common military compass in a 
square wooden box, used in our army. Observe 
that on a surveyor's compass the E and W marks 
are transposed, and don't let this fool you in the 

In using a compass look out for local attraction. 
Put your gun or axe aside; a knife, or belt buckle, 
or other piece of metal may deflect the needle. If 
there is anything in your equipment that might do 
this, test the instrument first on the ground a pace 
away, and then in your hand. The compass should 
not be kept near iron, even when not in use, as the 
needle is likely to be demagnetized. 

A compass needle may be demagnetized when 
traveling in an electric car if carried in a valise or 
knapsack and set down on the floor over a powerful 
motor, if the needle is clamped, as it should be when 
not in use. To strengthen the magnetism of a com- 
pass needle, unclamp it and lay the instrument near 
a motor or generator or strong magnet; then, when 
it has stopped quivering, clamp it again and leave 
it under the influence of the magnetic current for 
a short time. 

A compass may become bewitched by a body of 
ore that you may be passing over, but such ex- 
periences are rare. If you suspect something of the 
sort, carry the instrument away, it need not be far, 
and test again. You are far more likely to be be- 
witched yourself. 

The Compass in Camp. — No compass can tell 


you which way camp lies when you are lost. So 
the first and best place to use it is in camp, before 
you go anywhere. If there are landmarks visible 
from camp, take their bearings, and locate them on 
a sheet of paper or in your notebook. Then, if you 
are in a flat country, run a base-line as described in 
Chapter III. If in a hilly region, climb the nearest 
height, and from it make a sketch map of the sur- 
rounding country, with streams and prominent land- 
marks noted and their bearings shown. Carry that 
map always with you, and add to it as you learn the 
country. No matter how rude it may be, it is 
likely to come in mighty handy. 

An experienced woodsman may photograph the 
landscape op his brain, but not one city man in a 
hundred car do so with certainty that it will not 
have blurred or faded away when he gets bewil- 
dered. So don't let any false modesty keep you 
from using j'^our pencil: the man who laughs at an 
amateur (or anybody else) for doing so is most 
likely a Reub who never has been a hundred miles 
from his own front door. 

Keeping a Course. — ^When traveling in a region 
where there are plenty of outlooks, the weather be- 
ing clear, the sun and visible landmarks are suffi- 
cient guides. When you do use a compass on the 
march, and the country is not too difficult, it will 
be enough to hold the instrument in one hand, and, 
without waiting for the needle to stop swinging, 
note the point midway of the limits of its motion 
and take that for north, unless the magnetic decli- 
nation is considerable (see below). 

In level, heavily timbered country, one must take 
greater pains if he wants to reach a definite point. 
Lay the compass on the ground, or on any higher 
object that will hold it level. Or, if both hands arcj 
free, hold it in both of them at half-arm's length, 
with elbows resting on your sides, so as to bring the 
Instrument straight in front of the center of your 
bodv. Then face some tall tree or other conspicu- 


ous feature of the landscape in direct line with youi 
objective and as far off as you can see. Check the 
vibration of the needle by quickly tipping the com- 
pass until the end of the needle touches the glass, 
and repeat until needle stops quivering. Now level 
the box and take the bearing of your landmark. 
Walk to it, and take a sight on something else in 
the same line. 

Where you cannot see out to take bearings in this 
way, consult the compass every two or three min- 
utes; for it is the easiest thing in the world to get 
©ff a true course at such times, and a few degrees' 
swerve, if not soon detected, will carry you far 

When some obstacle obliges you to make a de- 
tour, sight some landmark ahead, if you can, before 
you go around. If there be none visible, then esti- 
mate your winding with great care, and get back 
in line again as soon as you can. It is rarely the 
case that one can travel any distance in the wilder- 
ness without swerving very often from a true course ; 
so the art of averaging windings should be practiced 
until one becomes adept. 

When following a stream, note how many tribu- 
taries you cross. When following a divide, note 
how many abutting ridges you pass on each side. 
You will need that knowledge when you return, and 
it must be exact. 

Magnetic Variation. — The north end of a 
compass needle does not point to the true north, ex- 
cept in certain places as noted below. It points to 
the mannetic pole, which lies far south of the north 
pole and about seven degrees west of the meridian 
of 90°W. 

The places where a compass does point to the 
geoe^raphic north are those situated alons; what is 
called the "agonic line," or "zero curve," or "line 
of no variation." This is not a straight line from 
north to south like a meridian on the map, but has 
many waves and loops, and runs in the main easterly 


of south. At present the agonic line runs from 
Mackinac Island, in Lake Michigan, loops west and 
then diagonally through eastern Michigan to central 
Ohio, makes a big loop north toward Lake Erie and 
back, south to the Ohio River, makes two big loops 
east and west in eastern Kentucky, runs south 
through western Virginia, loops west in eastern 
Tennessee and then far back east, goes down through 
western North Carolina, loops east again, and then 
runs diagonally down through Georgia and out into 
the Atlantic. This line is not stationary, but has 
a slow movement westward called the ''annual 
change." Nobody knows the cause of these vagaries: 
magnetic variation is a mystery as yet unsolved. 

Now note this: at all places east of the agonic line 
the north end of a compass needle points to the west 
of true north (more and more as the distance in- 
creases), and everywhere west of this line it points 

For instance, at New York City the compass now 
points io°W; at Eastport, Me., 20°W; at Lincoln, 
Neb., io°E; at Helena, Mont., 20°E. This 
"declination" or "variation of the compass" must be 
allowed tor when running a true course, or when 
plotting one by map. 

A line passing through all places that show the 
same compass variation is called a "line of equal 
magnetic variation." Such lines do not by any means 
run straight like meridians, but are wavy and looped 
and run off at strange angles, like the agonic line, 
though none of them correspond to its meanders; 
and they, too, shift slowly westward from year to 

Now for the practical application. Suppose you 
are on the line of magnetic variation that runs 
through Ogden, Utah, where the declination Is 
i8E°. To find true north, you set your compass 
so that the needle points i8°E, as In Fig. 10. Then 
the N mark on the dial points due north. 

To lay out a course by map ; spread the sheet out 


flat and lay the compass on it with N-S line of dial 
exactly parallel with N-S line on map. Then re- 
volve map until needle shovi^s proper number of 
degrees allowance for local variation, if any. All 
meridians on the map will then be parallel with the 
lines they represent on the ground. Now you can 
take the bearings of your objective, and if the instru- 
ment has a movable course arrow (see Vol. I., p. 
169) set it accordingly. 

The following table of declinations, prepared by 
the U. S. Coast and Geodetic Survey, is copied from 
the World Almanac of 19 16. By adding or sub- 
tracting, as the case may be, the "annual change" 
multiplied by the number of years after 19 16, you 
will get a close approximation to the variation for 
a future date, although the annual change is not 

Fig. 10. — Compass Variation 




Or Variations of Compass for January, 1916 — With the 

Annual Change between 1910 and 1915 for the 

Principal Places in the United States 




Montgomery.. . 

Mobile , 




St. Michael' .. . 
Dutch Harbor.. 





Little Rock 

Sacramento.. . . 
Saa Fraaclsco . 
Lcs Angeles.. . . 
San Diego ..... 



New Haven.. . . 

2 61 E 
4 45E 

3 69 E 
30 25 E 
24 OOE 
21 12E 

16 40 E 
7 12 E 

14 45 E 

14 51 £ 

13 34 E 
7 00 E 

17 24 E 

18 09E 

15 65 E 
15 26 E 

14 45 E 
11 44 W 
11 13W 

7 42W 

Waablngtoa.. . . 5 
Tallahassee. ... 2 
Jacksonville ... 

Key West 2 

Atlanta • 1 



















Springfield . . . 


Indianapolis. . 
Fort Wayne. . 
Dea Molnea.. . 



Ness City. . . . 
Lexington. , . . 



Baton Rouge. . 
New Orleana.. 
Shreveport . . . 


Portland ..... 
Eastport ..... 
Annapolis. . . . 
Baltimore. . .. 

Boston 1 14 

Plttsfleld 12 

Lansing 1 

St. Paul . . . 


Jackson . . . 
Oxford. . . . 

20 E 
30 E 
33 E 
19 E 
43 E 
18 E 
35 E 
69 E 
03 E 
03 E 
32 E 
40 E 
24 E 
11 E 
14 E 

45 E 
30 E 
65 W 
51 E 
60 E 
35 E 
18 E 

46 E 


+ 1 

+ 2 
— 4 
+ 3 
+ 4 
+ 2 
+ 3 
+ 3 
+ 3 


+ 6 
+ 5 

+ 4 

— 1 



+ 3 

— 1 

— 1 

+ 2 
+ 1 

+ 2 
+ 2 

— 1 

— 1 

— 1 




Mon . . . 
Neb. . , . 


N. e... 

N. J . . . 
N. Mex. 
N. Y... 

N. C... 
N. Dak, 



E. I.... 

S. C... 

S, Dak. 





W. Va. 


Wyo. . 


JeOerson City. 
St. Louis ....;, 
Kansas City.., 




Carson City . . . 




Santa Fe 


New York ,10 

Ithaca 2 

Buffalo 5 

Raleigh 2 

WHmlnglon... . f 

Bismarck J* 

Pembina »J 

Columbus ' I 













Cincinnati.. . 


Guthrie. .. . 
Portland ... 
HarrUburg. . 
Allegheny. . - 
Providence. . 
Columbia. . . 
Charleston.. . 


^ankton .... 
Nashville... . 
KnoxvUle. . . , 
Memphis. . . . 


Saa Antonio. 
Houston. . . . 
Galveston. . . 

El Paso 

Salt Lake . . . 


Montpeller. .. 
Burlington.. . 



Lynchburg . . 


Walla Walla. 
Wheeling. . . . 
Madison. . . . 
Milwaukee. . . 
La Croste ..... 6 
Cheyenne JlS 

45 E 

07 E 
24 E 

16 E 
51 E 
44 E 
44 E 
04 W 

29 E 


57 W 
11 E 

35 E 
28 W 
43 E 
02 E 

30 E 
28 W 
07 E 

36 E 
65 E 
35 E 
55 E 

31 E 
24 E 
O."* E 

46 E 

21 E 

17 E 

22 W 

ao E 

46 £ 
04 E 











+ 1 


— 1 
— 1 


+ 3 

A plus ( + ) sign to tTie annua.! change denotes that the de- 
^rlination is increasing, and a minus ( — ) sign the reverse. 


Meridian by Watch. — One's watch, if it be 
keeping correct time, and the sun is shining, can be 
used as a compass (Fig. ii). The watch being 
set by local (sun) time, turn the face of the watch 
to the sun in such position that the hour-hand shall 
point to the sun. Half-way between the hour-hand 
and 12 o'clock will then be the south point (south 
of the equator, the north point). Of course, when 
the sun is near the zenith this trick will not work. 

To do the thing accurately, hold a grass stem 

Fig. 11. — Meridian by Sun 

or other small object vertically so its shadow will be 
cast across the face of the watch, and then bring the 
hour-hand into this shadow. 

By laying the watch on a level place and sighting 
across it at a pole, the true meridian may be estab- 
lished closely enough for most purposes. 

Meridian by Shadow. — ^When rough-and-ready 
methods are not precise enough for one's purpose, 
the following method will give a true meridian by 
which variation of the compass may be corrected 
(Fig. 12) : On a smooth and level piece of ground 
lean a pole toward the north and rest it in a crotch 
or on shears as shown. Make a plummet with 
string and stone or other weight, and suspend it 
from the end of the pole so that the plumb-bob 
nearly touches the ground. 



Drive a peg {S in the figure) directly under the 
plummet. Then, an hour or two before noon, attach 
a string to the peg and, with a sharpened stick tied 
to the other end of the string, describe a semicircle, 
or arc of a circle, with a radius equal to the distance 
from the peg S to the shadow of the tip of the pole. 
Drive a peg on the arc where the shadow of the tip 
of the pole rested. About an hour after noon, watch 
the shadow of the tip as it approaches the eastern 
side of the arc, and drive another peg at the point 


Fig. IZ— True North and South 

where it crosses. Then with a string find the middle 
point of the straight line joining the last two pegs 
mentioned. A straight line joining this middle 
point and the peg under the plummet will lie in the 
true meridian. 

To get the variation of the compass needle, set up 
a pole exactly in line with the short line mentioned 
above, and sight back from the pole to the tip of 
the slanting stick that holds the plummet. Make 
a note of the variation, so many degrees east or west, 
and use this when running a line by compass. 

Meridian by Pole Star. — Everj^body knows the 
"Dipper" in the constellation of the Great Bear 
JFig, 13). Its stars never set but revolve around 


the North Star. The two stars forming the front 
of the Dipper's bowl {a and b in the figure), called 
the "pointers," point toward a conspicuously bright 








c ^ -f 


-^ ■ ^ 

Fig. 13 — Position of Big Dipper above or below 
the Pole Star when the Pole Star is due North. 

star which is Polaris, the North or Pole Star. 

The North Star bears exactly due north only 
twice a day. It is always close enough to steer by, 
but if one wishes to correct his compass by it he must 


do so at a time when the double star in the middle 
of the Dipper's handle (c in the figure) is either 
directly above or directly below the North Star, for 
that is when the bearing is correct. At all other 
hours Polaris bears somewhat east or west of true 

To find the true meridian: set up two poles ten 
or twelve feet apart and exactly In line with the 
North Star, at such time as mentioned above. The 
front pole should be illuminated by a lantern or 
candle so that correct sight can be taken. Next 
day the line of sight can be prolonged, and the com- 
pass variation determined, 



Among the pleasures of life in a wild country 1 
count first the thrill of exploring new ground, 
"Something hidden: go and find it!" He who does 
not respond to that mainspring is out of order — ^ 
his works need looking into. 

Of course, the whole earth has been rambled over 
by somebody before our time; but it suffices one of 
us to bore into some wild region that is unknown to 
himself, unknown to his companions, and which 
never has been mapped in detail. 

I used to go hunting, every fall, with two or three 
comrades who felt as I did about such matters. We 
never hired a guide. On arriving at a blank spot 
we would spend the first day or two scouting. We 
would scatter, scour the country, and then, around 
the camp fire at night, we would describe, in turn, 
what we had found. 

Verbal reports, such as these, are more entertain- 
ing than useful. The crudest sort of a sketch on 
paper would have taught us much more. By com- 
bining our route sketches we might have produced 
a serviceable map of the country for miles around. 
I wish we had made such maps. I would love to 
pore over them in these later years. 

We thought that route sketching would take too 
much time and trouble. That was a mistake. Any- 
body who can read a compass and draw lines of 
direction can make a practical route sketch without 
losing more than twenty-five per cent of a steady 



jog. The only instruments and materials needed 
are a pocket compass, a watch, a lead pencil, and a 
notebook, or a bit of paper tacked on a piece of thin 

Fig, 14. — Route sketch showing method of 

computing distances by counting paces 

from point to point 


As examples, I give here a couple of sketches 
(Figs. 14 and 15) showing, respectively, the back- 
Woods half of the wagon road and the over-mountain 
trail to "the last house up Deep Creek," where I 
once lived for a year or so. I made these while still 
new to the country, without losing more than half 
an hour from regular marching time. First, I 
walked in to the railway station, pacing and sketch- 
ing the trail as I went. The next day I returned 
by wagon, mapping the road and the creek, without 
once checking the horses, and judging distances 
altogether by eye. 

My rough sketches were made in a vest-pocket 
memorandum book that was quadrille ruled. Mere 
lines showed the road, trail, creek, and branches, as 
in Fig. 14, and the sketch map was finished on larger 
paper w^hen I got home. My compass had a dial 
of only ij/^ inch, which is small for such work. I 
wore it in a leather strap on my left w^rist, like a 
wrist watch ; so it never was in the way, yet always 
was right under the eye when needed. To orient 
the instrument. It could be slipped out of its guard 
in a second or two, though this was seldom necessary. 

Afterwards I discarded this way of carrying a 
compass, because it had to be open-faced and was 
too easily smashed. 

Considering that the country here was rough, and 
so densely timbered that there were few outlooks, 
and that I did not use a protractor nor even a ruler, 
I was pleased to find that my "closures" required 
very little "humoring in," as a surveyor would say. 
I had a U. S. topographical map of the country, but 
It was so defective that it was of no use, save in 
establishing one or two "controls." 

In sketching a route it is convenient, though not 
necessary, to use paper ruled in little squares. Any 
dealer in draughting materials can supply cross- 
section paper ruled ten lines to the inch. A piece 
of «uch paper, about 7 x 10 inches, tacked on a thin 
board and carried in the hand, is a good way. If 



this is too cumbersome, use a notebook, as I did, and, 
when you come to an edge of the paper, start anew 
on a fresh page. If you have nothing but plain 

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Fig. 15. — Mao made by combining two route 


paper, a measuring instrument must be used, which 
need be no more than your octagonal lead pencil on 
which you have scored two or three inches with their 

If you are merely plotting a course, it is not 
necessary to sketch in so many topographic features 
as are shown in these examples. In any case it is a 
mistake to crowd the sheet with details, as they 
might be confusing. In the present instance the 
route ran through a mountainous country, but I 
made no attempt to show contours, nor even to note 
the steep slopes, for there was a trail all the way. 
I did note, separately, the marching time from point 
to point (not shown in sketches), and that is im- 
portant. The time table of actual marching, in 
connection with the plotted route, showed plainly 
enough where the going was slow. 

Scale of Sketch. — The first thing to do Is to 
fix on a certain scale to be used in plotting. In 
Fig. 14 it is four inches to a mile, meaning that four 
inches on the map corresponds to a mile on the 
ground Itself. Therefore a side of each of the little 
I -10 inch squares represents 44 yards of actual dis- 
tance. In Fig. 15 it is two inches to the mile. (The 
cuts in this book are reduced from the originals). 
Sometimes it may be more convenient to use a man's 
pace or a horse's stride as the unit of a scale. In 
any case, the scale adopted must be noted on the 
margin of the paper, and an arrow must be drawn 
on the map to show the true north and south line. 

Pacing Distances. — ^When traveling afoot, dis- 
tances are judged by counting one's paces. A man's 
normal stride varies from 27 to 33 inches, according 
to individuals and nature of ground. Woodsmen 
commonly exceed this, owing to their rolling gait. 
The conventional surveyor's pace is 30 inches, and 
so Is that of infantry "quick time." Do not try to 
pace yards, or any other arbitrary distance. That Is 
unnatural, fatiguing, distracts your attention, and 
cannot be kept up on a long hike. Walk at your 


natural stride back and forth over a measured dis- 
tance, and average the results. Do this after a long 
walk, for by that time jou will have ''struck your 
gait." Practice first over fairly level ground, and 
then up and down steep places, learning to make 
allowances, by lengthening out a little when going 
up-hill and shortening the stride when going down- 

One's stride on the march, after he has settled 
down to it, is likely to be longer than it is in town. 
In my own case, on a hike over fair road, I find that 
my pace is about 33 inches (three inches longer than 
it is around home), and the cadence of a steady jog 
is 100 steps to the minute. This makes 1,920 paces 
to the mile. Allowing for uneven ground, I figure 
on 2,000 paces to the mile, and three miles an hour. 
This happens to be convenient in plotting, for, when 
mapping on a scale of, say, four inches to the mile, 
each of the i-io inch squares on my cross-section 
paper represents just 100 paces of 31.68 inches 
average, and on a scale of two inches to the mile 
it is 50 paces. Timber cruisers figure on 2,000 
paces to the mile, or 1,000 "cruiser paces" (double 
paces, as explained below). 

The Application. — At the start, take the bear- 
ings by compass of some object that you can see in 
advance. Then jog along, counting every other pace 
(left or right foot only) as you go. To count every 
single pace would be needlessly wearisome. Where 
there is a long distance between bearing points, drop 
a pebble into your pocket for every hundred double 

When the object you sighted is reached, mark its 
location on the paper, as nearly as you can, accord- 
ing to compass bearing and distance traversed. Un- 
til you become skilful at this without sight compass 
and protractor, check your first reading by turning 
around and taking the bearing back to your starting 

Having located the object, draw a line from the 


starting point corresponding to your course, number 
this first stop "i," and note on the margin the num- 
ber of paces from o to i, as well as the time between 
them. Then take a fresh bearing on some other 
object ahead, and continue the same w^ay. 

Time. — In the wilderness, where roads generally 
are bad, if there are any at all, the distance tra- 
versed is of less consequence, for a mere route sketch, 
than the time taken to cover it. Your estimates of 
distance may be faulty, but your watch can be relied 

Time measurements also are good enough for 
rough mapping of open country and fairly straight 
courses, where it is not necessary to count paces in 
order to keep the general bearings correct. 

Judging Distances by Eye. — In thickets, 
swamps, blow-downs, steeps, and other places so 
rough that one can neither pace steadily nor judge 
distance by time, a man going alone must estimate 
by eye only. It is remarkable how skilful men can 
become at this by assiduous practice. Riflemen 
generally are good judges of distances by eye. Tim- 
ber cruisers are better still. Amateurs should seldom 
trust their estimates of distance in the woods and 
mountains, or over water, for intervals of over lOO 

When two men travel together they can assist 
each other in estimating. Let your partner walk 
away lOO paces, then hold your pencil at arm's 
length, and measure his apparent height on It from 
pencil tip down with your thumb-nail, as an artist 
does In landscape sketching. Mark that point with 
your knife. Then let him go another lOO paces; 
measure and mark again. This scale can be used 
thereafter wherever his full height Is visible. 

Pedometers save considerable trouble where 
trails are good or the country Is fairly level and open, 
but they are of no use In rough country, since they 
record every step taken, regardless of whether It Is 
in the course or not. 


Paces of Animals. — The paces of saddle animals 
vary according to individuals, but can soon be deter- 
mined by test. This should be done both at walk and 
trot, counting only the double pace, like that of a 
man, when walking, or the rise when trotting. The 
pace of a horse is as uniform as that of a man. A 
mule's gait is still steadier and the stride is more 

Distance by Sound. — In mapping a consider- 
able territory in the mountains, where pacing is 
unreliable and may be impracticable, two men can 
work to advantage if one carries a gun or pistol and 
the other a stop-watch. For example, you wish to 
know the distance from camp to a certain peak. 
The man with the gun climbs the peak, and fires a 
shot when he gets there, to call his comrade's atten- 
tion. Then he ties his neckerchief on a stick, and, 
stepping out in plain view, signals with the extem- 
porized flag, and fires at the same Instant. The 
man in camp times, with his stop-watch, the interval 
between signal and arrival of the gun's report. 
Sound travels, in quiet open air, approximately at 
the following rates, according to temperature: 


At— 30° Fahr., 1030 ft. per sefc.=l mile in 5.13 sees. 

— 20° " 1040 " =1 " 5.08 " 

— 10° " 1050 " :=1 " 5.03 " 

— 0° " 1060 " =1 " 4.98 " 

— 10° " 1070 " =1 " 4.93 " 

— 20° " 1080 " =1 " 4.88 " 

— 32° " 1092 " =1 " 4.83 " 

— 40° " 1100 " =1 " 4.80 " 

— 50° '' 1110 " =1 " 4.78 " 

— 60° " 1120 " =1 " 4.73 " 

— 70° " 1130 •' =1 " 4.68 " 

— 80° " 1140 " =1 " 4.63 " 

— 90° " 1150 " =1 " 4.59 " 
—100° " 1160 " ^1 " 4.55 " 
—110° " 1170 " =1 " 4.51 " 
—120° " 1180 " =1 " 4.47 " 

When the air is calm, fog or rain does not ap- 
preciably affect the result ; wind does, of course. The 


report of a gun, being sharp and hud, travels con- 
siderably faster than this for a short distance, but 
the above table is a close enough approximation for 
the purposes of sketch mapping. 

Distances on Rivers. — Floating down a river 
of fairly regular current, one may estimate distances 
pretty closely by keeping his boat in midstream and 
timing it from point to point. 

Landmarks. — My sketches show how landmarks 
are noted along the route. In the wild and unin- 
habited country beyond our house I would have 
noted old camp grounds, gaps, bad thickets, cliffs, 
etc., in a similar way. Where the forest and con- 
tours are of uniform character, one should establish 
here and there, some artificial marks. Where tree 
blazing is not permitted, blazed stakes may be driven, 
bush-marks made, stones piled, and so on, according 
to circumstances. 

Written notes will help anyone who is to follow 
the route. The examples here printed were made 
for a friend who wanted to visit me, but who could 
not foretell, a day in advance, when he could get 
away from business. After directing him to get a 
U. S. Geological Survey topographical sheet for the 
country south of us, which was accurate up to the 
place where my sketch map began, I wrote him: 

There are two ways to our place. One is a wagon 
road over which a team can haul one thousand 
pounds when Jupiter isn't pluviating. There are 
eighteen fords in the last six miles. The creek is 
impassable for a few hours after a smart rain. Ford 
10 ("the deep ford") always wets a, wagon bed. Ford 
12, at the Perry gap, is dangerous when there is ice. 
No footbridge between Hunnicut's and McCracken's, 
nor any habitation. 

The other way is by trail across the mountain 
from Hunnicut's, This is always practicable for a 
mountain-bred horse or mule with light pack, but he 
must do some sliding down from either the Mc- 
Cracken gap or the Fullback. 

Trail at Hunnicut's stable swerves sharply to the 
right, up a steep bank, and thence onward goes 
through thick forest^ At McCracken gap our fork 


of the trail is marked by a small oak, with burl at 
heigiht of your head, blazed last year with a cross, 
and pencil-marked with arrow. The trail to Indian 
Creek and the Cherokee reserve on Lufty ds much 
fainter than ours. 

Mapping. — Observe that a mere route sketch is 
only intended to show the way from one point to 
another, and tell the user where he is at any stage 
of the journey. Hence it need not be mathematic- 
ally accurate, and hence it can be made swiftly, with 
crude instruments. Mapping proper is much slower 
work. Still, a very useful and practical map of a 
region several miles square can be made in a few 
days by one man, combining his route sketches, pro- 
vided he takes a little more pains in locating a few 
prominent landmarks as ''controls." 

In the example already given the country was so 
heavily timbered that there were few outlooks from 
which mountain tops or other features could be ob- 
served from different points on the journey. If 
there had been such, I would have noted their bear> 
ings from different positions, and thus would have 
had a series of positive checks or controls by which 
to regulate my sketches. How this is done is shown 
in Fig. 16, which is reproduced from an article in 
Outing, by C. H. Morrill. In this case a 4 x 7 
notebook was used, the left-hand page being ruled 
for notes on compass bearings, distances (a pedo- 
meter was carried), time, etc., while the sketch was 
drawn on the right-hand page. Notice the compass 
bearings of mountains, brooks and pond. 

If a similar trip had been made a few miles away, 
and bearings taken on objects visible on the first 
route, the two sketches could be combined into a 
map, as in Fig. 15. Where there were discrepancies 
they could be humored in by "splitting the differ- 
ence," and the finished work would be true enough 
for practical purposes. 

If one has a reliable map of the region he is in, 
but on too small a scale to show the details that he 


wants to record, he can use some of the major 
features on the map as controls, and thus make his 
sketch map pretty accurate. 

A method of making more accurate sketch maps 
with an improvised plane table, or with a cavalry- 
sketching case carried on the left wrist, is given in 
a handy little pocket manual of Military Map Read- 
ing; Field, Outpost and Road Sketching, by Major 
Wm. D. Beach, U. S. A. (Hudson Publishing Co., 
Kansas City, Mo.). 

"■/A t<o t. A ^/><y 


Fig. 16.— Route sketch by C. H. Morrill 

Extemporary Measurements. — A 3-foot pock- 
et steel tape weighs only a couple of ounces and 
takes up no more room than a watch. It is a good 
thing for a woodsman to carry, as he often has occa- 
sion to take measurements. Where the tape is in- 
convenient to use, he can measure with it a certain 
length on a straight pole, or on a fish line. Lack- 
ing this, he should have a measure scored on his 
pencil, hatchet handle (if straight), inside of waist 



belt, or some other article of equipment that he con- 
stantly carries. 

He should also know some of the measurements 
of his body. The first joint of the I'ltle finger, for 
instance, may be one inch, or the thumb an inch 
wide. Clench both fists, making the extended 
thumbs meet: this may bt just one foot. Measure 
the span of thumb and little finger and the height 
of your eye from the ground. The full stretch of 
the extended arms is often used, but is unreliable on 
curved surfaces, as in measuring the girth of a tree, 
since it will be several inches shorter than if one 
stood with his back to a flat wall and stretched his 
arms horizontally. 

To measure successive 
lengths with a stout cord, 
such as a fishing line: Knot 
*:he line two or three 
feet from one end, measure 
off, say, 100 feet from 
this, and knot again, leav- 
ing a stray end beyond the 
second knot. One end 
could be looped, as in Fig. 
I'ja, in which case you stick 
a smooth peg in the 
ground, put the loop over the peg, carry out the 
hundred feet, set a peg there, and then jerk the line 
upward, which, if the ground is smooth, will cause a 
wave to run along it that will lift the loop off the 
first peg. But a permanent loop is too likely to 
catch in bushes, etc.: so it is better to leave plain 
ends as I have described, and make your loop each 
time with a hitch (Fig. I'jb) so it may shake out as 
it comes of¥ the peg, leaving only a free end to be 
hauled in. A sheepshank (Fig. 17c) may be used 
for the same purpose. 

However, in the woods, it is better to fasten your 
line with a signal halyard hitch (Fig. 17^) to any 
convenient small tree or bush that stands fairly in 

Fig. 17. — Hitches on 
Measuring Line 


the line you wish to measure. Pass the end of the 
line twice round the stem or peg, then, taking the 
end and a small bight of the measuring part, hitch 
them as if you were going to tie a reef knot, pull 
the first hitch tight, but do not complete the knot 
by making the second hitch ; this will hold quite fast 
enough, and a slight jerk will be sufficient to set it 
free when you wish to haul in the end. 

A measuring line should merely be straight upon 
the ground, not drawn taut; still less should it be 
lifted up and then pulled to a straight line in the 
air. Cords of any kind are too easily stretched to 
be trusted for measuring if there is any strain on 

To Set Out a Right Angle. — Any triangle the 
sides of which are in the proportion of 3, 4, and 5, 
is a right angled triangle. For example; Measure 

40 feet on a line that you 
wish to run at right angles, 
Peg A and B (Fig. 18). 
Fasten end of tape at A, 
take 80 feet, and fasten 80- 
foot mark at B. Then, 
taking tape in hand, walk 
aside till BC and AC are 
taut. BC is then perpen- 
dicular to AB, and j5 is a 
Fig. I8.-T0 Lay ^ight angle. 

Out a Right Angle 1 MEASURE AN IN- 

ACCESSIBLE Distance. — 
The width of a river, for instance, may be measured 
with the aid of a pocket compass. Say the river 
runs east and west, and you are on the south side. 
Choose a tree {A, Fig. 19), or other well defined 
mark on the opposite shore, and bring it to bear due 
north of you. Mark your position with a peg at 
B ; turn to one side, say the left, and walk westward 
till A bears exactly northeast, and put a peg there, 
C; then CB will equal BA, the breadth of the river, 
because CB and BA subtend an angle of 90°, or a 



right angle, and must therefore be of equal length. 

Since your readings on a small compass may not 

be quite true, check them, if the ground permits, by 

walking east till A bears northwest from D. If the 

Fig. 19. — Measuring Width of River by Compass. 

two observations do not quite coincide, the mean of 
the two will be approximately correct. 

If you have no compass, 
there are many ways of 
measuring an inaccessible . 
distance by angles other- 
wise determined, provided 
there is enough level land 
on your side for the pur- 
pose. One of these is shown 
in Fig. 20. Sight a con- 
spicuous object, as before. 
Plant a stake about 5 feet 
high at A J as nearly oppo- 

Fig. 20. — Measuring 
Width without 

site and "square" as you can judge. Set up another 
stake at B, as nearly at a right angle as you can, and 
at about one-half the estimated distance to your 
mark. Continue AB straight to C and plant another 
stake. AB must equal BC. Now set a stake at D, 
at right angle to base, wherever the line DB con- 
tinued will strike the object across the river that you 
have been sighting at. Then DC equals the width 

To Measure an Inaccessible Height or 
Htipth.- — Suppose vou wish to measure the height 


of a cliff, a tree, or other object the base of which 
you can reach, and with fairly level ground in front 
of it. In Fig. 21, the man wants to know the length 
of the merchantable "stick" below the tree branches. 
He estimates the height by eye, then paces off that 
distance and marks it at C. He cuts a stake about 
as long as himself, stands it in front of him and 
marks on it with his knife the height of his eye, then 
sharpens the few inches remaining. At C he drives 






Fig. 21. — Measuring a Height. 

the stake perpendicular, with the knife mark level 
with the ground. Then he lies down with feet 
against the stake, as shown, and sights at the tree. 
If the line of sight over the top of stake does not 
strike the point Aj he shifts, and tries again, until 
the alignment is correct. The height AB then 
equals the distance BC. 

Some backwoodsmen have a rough-and-ready way 
of estimating the height of a tree. They walk off 
until its topmost branches or first fork can be viewed 
by looking backwards between the outstretched legjs , 


with practice this method may become pretty ac^ 

On level open country a height can be measured 
by shadow. Set up vertically a stick of known 
length; measure the length of its shadow, and that 
of the object whose height is required. As the 
length of stick's shadow is to stick's length, so is thai 
of the object's shadow to the object's height. For 
example: the stick is 5 feet long and its shadow 7, 
while the shadow of the t^ee is 70 feet; then 
7;5::7o:x, and x— 50 feet. 


Fig. 22. — Extemporized Level 

To measure a depth with the watch: square the 
number of seconds a stone takes to reach the bottom, 
and multiply by 16: the result is the depth in feet. 

Leveling. — ^Take a short straight stick or ruler, 
A B m Fig. 22, mark it exactly in the middle, and 
suspend it with a string with loop at C directly over 
the middle of the stick, from which latter a little 
weight D is suspended to keep the wind from shak- 
ing the level. To use the instrument: hold it from 
C above your head so that top of stick is in line with 
your eye, and sight along the surface, noting at what 
point of the ground the line of sight corresponds. 


Going there, you have ascended a distance equal to 
the height of your eye from the ground. Many ap^ 
plications of this method will suggest themselves. 

I do not give more elaborate processes of measure 
ing and leveling, because the simple ones here 
described are accurate enough for a woodsman's 
purposes, and they take little time or trouble. 

Time. — A leaf of an almanac for the month you 
are out is useful in case your watch runs down. 
The JVorld Ahnanac shows the time of rising and 
setting of sun and moon for four different zones 
from the Atlantic to the Pacific. These, of course, 
are dependable only when you can observe them on 
a level horizon ; but the time when the sun is in the 
zenith (directly overhead) is also given for every 
day in the year, on the meridian of Washington, and 
you can allow for the difference in time wherever 
you may be. The sun is in the zenith when a 
straight pole casts its shortest shadow. 

A practical sundial is easily extem.porized by 
sweeping of¥ a level place and planting in it a 5-foot 
stick slanted toward the north by compass. Nail 
the stick to a stout stake driven under it, so it cannot 
be moved, and sharpen the upper end so as to cast 
a finely tapered shadow. When the sun shines, take 
5^our watch and stick a peg at the end of the shadow 
for each even hour. Subdivisions of the hour can 
be marked by shorter pegs. In a fixed camp such 
a sundial is handy near the cook's fire. Often I 
have boiled my three-minute eggs by one. If the 
pegs are altered every week they will indicate near 
enough actual sun time for practical purposes. 


Quand na pas choual, monfc bourique; 
Qnand na pas bourique, montc cabri; 
Quand na pas cabri, motxte jambe. 

(When you have no horse, you ride a donkey; 
When you have no donkey, you ride a goat; 
When you have no goat, you ride your legs.) 

— Creole Sayint/. 

The man who goes afoot, prepared to camp any- 
where and in any weather, Is the most independent 
fellow on earth. He can follow his bent, obey the 
whim of the hour, do what he pleases w^henever he 
pleases, without deference to anybody, or care for 
any beast of burden, or obedience to the course of 
any current. He is footloose and free. Where 
neither horse nor boat can go, he can go, seeing coun- 
try that no other kind of traveler ever sees. And 
it is just these otherwise inaccessible places that have 
the strongest lure for anyone who delights in new 
discovery, in unspoiled nature, and in the charms of 
primitive societ)^ 

The man with the knapsack is never lost. No 
matter whither he may stray, his food and shelter 
are right with him, and home is wherever he may 
choose to stop. There is no anxiety about the mor- 
row, or the day after. Somewhere he will come 
out — and one place is as good as another. No 
panic-stricken horse, or wrecked canoe, can leave 
him naked in the wilderness. 

But how to do it? This is the hardest problem 
in outfitting. To equip a pedestrian with shelter, 
bedding, utensils, food, and other necessities, in a 
pack so light and small that he can carry it without 
overstrain, is really a fine art. One can't enjoy wild 



scenery and backwoods characters if bending and 
chafing under a load of fardels, all the time con- 
scious that he is making a pack animal, a donkey, of 

Consider, then, your personal equation. If you 
are a middle-aged city man, soft from a year 
or more of office work, about twenty pounds on your 
back is all the weight that you ought to carry. Even 
that little will be burdensome the first day out; 
but soon you will be striding along all day hardly 
knowing it is there. A younger man, or one who 
gets a good deal of daily exercise in the open air, 
can do the same with thirty pounds, until he gets in 
training, and then go considerably more. 

I am speaking of all-day hikes, across country, 
through the woods, uphill and down dale. In un- 
tracked wilderness, especially if it be mountainous, 
it takes a husky fellow, in good form, to pack fifty 
pounds without over-exertion. Yes, infantrymen 
carry seventy, sometimes, but they don't do it through 
thickets, over rocks and down-logs, up and down 
ravines, where there are no trails — nor* are they out 
for the fun of the thing. The personal equation, 
then — your own — regardless ot what other folks 
do, or think you ought to do. Find out what is 
light and easy for you, and then GO LIGHT, 

Weigh the essentials. Are you to sleep out? You 
need a comfortable bed, shelter from rain, and se- 
curity against venomous insects. Food, then, for how 
many meals ? Choose what can be cooked with the 
simplest and lightest utensils, and what will give 
you the most nourishment for its weight and bulk, 
and surh as does not require more than half an hour 
to make ready and fit for the stomach. Bedding, 
shelter, food and something to prepare it in: those 
are the essentials, besides the clothes on your back 
and the contents of your pockets. Anything else 
is dispensable, to be picked with care and weighed 
with scales, and balanced against some other thing 
that might be of more real use or pleasure. 

Then how is the weight to be carried? A great 



deal depends on getting a pack so adjusted that it 
will "ride" just right, shoulders and hips each bear- 
ing their due part of the strain, with as little bind- 
ing and chafing as possible. 

Finally, will you go in company or alone? A 
party of three or four uses the same tent, utensils, 
and some other articles in common. That means 
less weight for each man to carry. Two in a bed 
require less bedding than if they slept separately. A 
satisfactory kit for one man who goes alone and 
afoot is the last refinement in camp equipment. Be- 
cause this is a particularly difficult problem I shall 
give it special attention. Whoever masters it wiU 
have little trouble in getting up a squad outfit. 

Clothes. — This topic has been considered in de- 
tail in Vol. I. (pp. 138-163). Little need be added. 
Footwear is the most important item. Shoes and 
socks must FIT J or you will be made miserable by 
blisters. For dry weather and fair roads, the stand- 
ard U. S. Army shoes are excellent; but for rough 
country, heavier ones, made over the Munson last, 
are required. In the wilderness there is considerable 
wading to do, sometimes over the shoe tops. The 
only shoes that will stand it are those that are water- 
proofed and have no lining w^hatever: they dry out 
soon on the march, and do not get hard or *'bowed 
up." Buy them of some firm that makes a special- 
ty of sportsmen's footwear. 

Up to the season when Mackinaws are needed, 
do not carry a coat. You would not wear it on the 
m.arch, and, when the cool of evening comes, a 
sweater coat or a Mackinaw stag shirt is more com- 
fortable, besides being a good night garment, which 
the coat distinctly is not. Then have a light-weight 
rubber cape reaching just to the knee. From the 
knee down you will get wet anyway, even though 
you wear a long poncho or rain coat, and any gar- 
ment that flops against the legs at every stride is a 
positive nuisance ; besides, it will soon tear when you 
thrash through brush, and it will trip you at every 
step in climbing. A cape has the merits of a pon- 


cho, in that it is airy underneath, and it can be 
slipped on over the pack-sack, while it has the ad- 
vantage of leaving your arms free to fend off bushes, 
to climb with, to shoot, paddle, and so on. 

There is a pattern called the "Fairy," 34 inches 
long, that weighs only 21 ounces and takes up hard- 
ly any room when packed. It and a medium-weight 
sweater coat together weigh only about six ounces 
more than a duxbak hunting coat. Worn together, 
they form good protection against a cold, keen wind. 

Carry a change of underwear. When on a hike, 
take your bath or rub-down at close of day, instead 
of in the morning; then change to fresh underwear 
and socks, and put on your sweater and trousers to 
sleep in. Fresh dry underclothes are as warm as an 
extra blanket would be if one slept in the sweaty 
garments he wore during the day — to say nothing 
of cleanliness. 

Shelter. — Rain is the campaigner's worst enemy. 
Jack Frost can be kept at bay, in a timbered region, 
though you be bivouacing under the stars ; but you 
require a waterproof roof to defy Jupiter Pluvius. 
The kind will depend chiefly on whether you go 
alone or In company. For two or more, choose one 
of the very light tents described in Vol. I. (pp. 76- 
108). When going alone, in summer, a simple 
shelter cloth and small mosquito bar are sufficient. 
They can easily be made at home. Take, for ex- 
ample, seven yards of the green waterproof material 
called verdalite, which comes in 38-inch width, and 
weighs 4.% ounces to the running yard. Sew up 
three widths of seven feet length, and hem all 
around, making a rectangle very nearly 7x9 feet. 
Put small grommets or eyelets around all four edges, 
for tie-strings. The completed shelter cloth, in this 
m.aterial, will weigh about 2^4 pounds, in water- 
proofed ''balloon silk," or similar stuff, about 2j4 

Such a cloth may be set up in various ways. One 
of the quickest is to\tie or nail a pole horizontally 
irom one sapling to another, four feet from the 


ground, for a ridge, and tie one 9^he 9-foot sides 
of the cloth to it. Tie the otheF^jdfe^f the cloth 
to another straight pole, draw oi^'t<a ^ angle of 
45°, and pin the pole down with ^^iftrt^ crotch 
at each end. That is all. You Mte^otja'^d*' 
sheltering a space 5^ by 9 feet, anolJ^Wj^f^ 
front. Under this you sleep parallel \x^^"^t[ 
instead of feet toward it. If no small tre^^^ 
the right place, set up a pair of forked stS^ 
5n rocky ground, shears (Vol. I., p. 46). Shar^ 
both ends of a pliant green stick, bend it into a bd^, 
and drive the ends into the ground on either side 
at the head of your bed, to support your mosquito 
netting; crawl under, and tuck the edges of the 
net under your bedding. 

Smoke from the camp-fire does not hang under 
such a shelter, as there is free draught through it. 
If the wind shifts lean a pole against the ridge, on 
the w^indward side, and stack some boughs against 
it. Nothing could be simpler, cheaper, lighter, more 
compact, nor, in the long run, more satisfactory for 
the lone forest cruiser in summer, than this plain 
rectangle of thin but close-woven waterproof cloth. 
One of its advantages is that a stretcher-bed, if you 
carry such a thing, can be set up under it without 
bother about the length of poles. With the cloth 
set up over a big fallen log for windbreak, as al- 
ready described under Bivouacs^ there is plenty of 
headroom. If you wish to stay a few days in one 
place, the cloth can be used as a roof over a frame 
of baker tent form. I carry a few wire nails and 
tacks for making such a structure. 

For a mosquito bar, take two yards of the fine 
mesh that comes in 68-inch width, and hem the ends, 
or use bobbinet, which is stronger and a better pro- 

Bedding. — Don't bed down on the cold, hard 
earth. And, unless you know the country to be 
traversed, don't depend on finding balsam or hem- 
lock for a brow^se bed wherever 5^ou may spend a 
night. In Vol. I. ^p. 134) I have spokt^. of the 


bed tick. One that I now have, made of romper 
cloth, is a bag 32 x 78 inches, to be filled with dry 
leaves, if nothing better is found, and closed with 
horse-blanket pins; it weighs just one pound, and 
takes up very little space in the knapsack. The 
leaves, being in a bag, cannot spread from under 
you ; they cushion the body and keep off the chill 
of the ground. A 3-pound blanket on top of such 
a mattress is warmer than a 5-pound one without 
it, and a pound weight is saved, to say nothing of 
bone-ache. That is enough for summer camping, 
unless you are at a considerable aUitude. 

A 20 X 30-inch pillow-bag will weigh 3 ounces. 
Stuff it with leaves or other soft material, before 
you turn in at night, close the end with safety pins, 
and pin your towel over it if the Jiurface is not 
soft enough. 

Cooking Kit. — It is easy to make up a good light- 
vveight set of utensils for two or more loen (see 
Vol. I. pp. 1 18-123), but a satisfactory one-man kit 
is another matter. The Boy Scout sets do fairly 
well for a short outing when baked bread is carried, 
but are inadequate for baking on the journey. A 
reflector is too cumbersome for a lone woods-cruiser. 
Let him bake his bread and cakes in a fr>ing-pan 
(see Vol. I, pp. 344-345). This, calls for an 8 or 
9-inch pan. Get one with folding handle (detach- 
able ones are easily lost), or take a common one, 
cut off all of the handle but about i^ inches, and 
rivet on this stub a semi-circular socket into which 
you fit your stick for a handle when you go to cook- 
ing. For general use I do not like aluminum fry- 
ing pans, but when traveling afoot they are satis- 
factory. A deep aluminum plate fits inside the pan 
in my kit, along with an aluminum fork, white- 
metal dessert spoon, and a dish towel. When tied 
up tightly in a light bag they do not rattle around. 
You want two little kettles for cereals, dried fruit, 
tea or coffee, to mix dough in, and the like. A pot 
that is broad and shallow boils water much sooner 
♦•hpn one that is deep and narrow, ana i% is easiej 


to clean. The kettles must not be too big to stow 
in the knapsack. Anywa}^ when one is going afoot 
he does not want to bothei with food that takes 
long boiling, and so has no use for a large kettle, 

1 choose two I -quart aluminum buckets, which can 
be bought through any dealer in kitchen ware, fill 
them with part of my foodstuffs, set them bottom 
to bottom, and tie them tightly in a bag so that 
the covers w^ill not come off. So there is no waste 
space, for the food must go somewhere, anyway. 
The kettles are good protection for perishables. 
Thus no sooty vessel goes inside another, and you 
have a package of small diameter. 

A seamless tin cup is carried wherever conveni- 
ent, generally outside the pack, where it can be got 
at when one is thirsty. Aluminum is much too hot 
for cup and spoon. The complete kit weighs just 

2 lbs. 2 oz. including bags. No table knife is car- 
ried, as I w^ear a sheath knife. 

Tools, etc. — In summer the little i2-ounce 
tomahawk already mentioned is all that is needed in 
that line, its chief uses being to get kindling m wet 
weather, provide poles and thatch for shelter, blaze 
a trail, and so on. A small pair of side-cutting 
fliers is well worth its weight, if you are a fisher- 

The first aid kit mentioned in the following lists 
IS made up as described in Vol. I. (p. 175), with the 
addition of a "snake doctor'* which consists of a 
hard rubber tube, about half the size of a fountain 
pen, in one end of which is a lancet (very dull as 
you buy it) and in the other a receptacle containing 
potassium permanganate in crystals ready to be 
rubbed into the incision. There is also a pair of 
splinter forceps. The w^hole goes in a tin tobacco box, 
4^x3 j^xi^ inches, sealed airtight with adhesive 
plaster, and weighs 5 ounces. 

Other small "icta" wnll vary according to one's 
personal taste and requirements. The point is to 
have them compact and of unnoticeable weight. 
For a trip afoot there is no need of a whole SDooI 


of thread, for example, or of wire, or a quarter- 
pound mirror, or a large towel, or a whole cake of 

One-man Kit for Summer. — ^As an example, to 
be modified each for himself, I list below a summer 
marching and camping outfit (good also as a canoe- 
ing kit) complete for a man going alone. It is 
enough in most parts of our country, but warmer 
bedding would be required at high altitudes, and 
perhaps a closed tent, such as the *'Compac" or one of 
the semi-pyramid type, weighing 3^ to 4 pounds, 
instead of the one-pound shelter cloth. The total 
weight of the pack, as here given, including two 
days' full rations, is 23 pounds 2 ounces. The 
whole equipment, except the few light articles worn 
on the person, stows inside a pack sack of moderate 
dimensions. There is nothing exposed to adver- 
tise your mission ; so you give the idle curious some- 
thing to puzzle and fret over — ^which is good for 

With such an outfit and his gun or fishing tackle, 
camera, or whatever may be the tools of his out- 
doov hobby, anyone of average physique and a little 
gumption can fare very well in the open, and enjoy 
absolute independence. 

It will be noticed that little is carried on the 
person. Such things as are used many times n day 
are right where they can be reached without fumb- 
ling or pulling out the wrong article. Very little 
weight is carried on the belt. Comfort and supple- 
ness of movement have been studied. There is no 
"ditty bag" * I discarded such a pouch long ago. 
If worn on the left side it often is in the way, and 
it dangles provokingly when you lean over or get 
down to crawl. If carried on the belt it is too 
heavy there. When I go out just for a day, I carry 
on my back a miniature knapsack containing the 
cape, lunch, tea pail, and such other things as I need 
for the work at hand. Five or six pounds on the 
back is less burdensome than half that weight in s 
dlny bag, and k is out of the way. 


It IS important in marching that the trousers 
should be held snug up in the crotch, or there will 
be chafing. They should not be tight around the 
abdomen, as that would constrict blood-vessels and 
interfere w^ith digestion. Stout men, and those with 
narrow hips, cannot depend on a belt, unless it is 
drawn very much too tight. Ordinary suspenders 
are best for them, but many object to their ap- 
pearance, and so the "invisible" kind is specified in 
this check-list, although it is hard on buttons. 



Woolen gauze undershirt. 

Woolen gauze (or balbriggan) drawers. 

Woolen socks, winter weight, natural color. 

Army overshirt, olive drab chambray (or flannel). 

Silk neckerchief, 27 x 27 in. 

Khaki trousers, extra suspender buttons. 

Invisible suspenders. 

Leather belt, narrow. 

Army shoes, cone-headed Hungarian nails. 

Army leggings, canvas. 

Felt hat, medium brim, ventilated, felt sweat-band. 


Left shirt — Map sections, in cover. Leaf of al- 
manac. Note book and pencil. 

Right shirt. — 'Compass. 

Left trousers. — Purse. Waterproof match box, flat 
pattern (as reserve). 

Right trousers. — Pocket knife. 

Fob.— Watch. 

Left hip. — Pipe. Tobacco. 

Right hip. — Bandanna handkerchief. 


Right side, fro^tf. — Waterproofed matches (50) in 
leather belt-pocket. 
Right side, rear. — Sheath knife. 


lbs. OZr 

Duluth pack sack, 24 x 26 in. (see Fig. 32) . . 2 4 

Shelter cloth, 7x9 ft., waterproof 2 4 

Mosquito net, 68 x 72 in 4 

U. S. A, blanket, >summer weight, 66 x 84 in, . . 3 

Browse bag, 32 x 78 in 1 

Pillow bag, 20 X 30 in 3 


Rubber cape, 34 m 1 5 

Stag shirt 1 8 

Spare suit underwear and socks, as above.... 1 2 

Tomaliawk, muzzled 12 

Side-cutting pliers, 5 in, 4 

Carborundum whetstone, 4 x 1 x ^ in 2 

Wallet fitted with small scissors, needles, sail 
needle, awl point, 2 waxed ends, thread on 
card, sail twine, buttons, safety pins, 
horse-blanket pins, 2 short rigged fish 
lines, spare hooks, minnow hooks with 
half barb filed off, sinkers, snare wire, 

rubber bands, shoe laces 6 

Strong twine in bag 1 

Aluminum frying-pan (8^ in.), plate, fork, 
white-metal dessert spoon, dish towel, in 

bag 1 J 

2 Aluminum buckets (1 qt.), in "bag 14 

Tin cup, seamless (1 pt.) 3 

Nails and tacks 3 

Cheesecloth, 1 yd 1 

Fly dope, in pocket oiler 2 

Talcum powder, in wpf. bag 1 

Comb, tooth brush, tiny mirror, bit of soap 
in wpf. bag, rolled in small towel secured 

by rubber bands 6 

Toilet paper 1 

First aid kit 5 

Spare matches, in tin box secured by adhesive 

pla»ter 2 

Electric fiasherj flat, round corners 5 

Total pack without provisions. .18 3 


lbs. oi 

Bread, or prepared flour, in -vpf. bag net 1 

Cereal, in bag " 8 

Milk powder, in bag (=1 qt. milk) " 4 

Butter, in tin *' 4 

Bacon, sliced and trimmed, in waxed paper " 12 

Cheese, in waxed paper " 4 

Egg powder, in bag (=9 eggs) " 3 

Raisins, in bag " 4 

Dried apricots, prunes, or cranberries, in 

bag ;; 4 

Sugar, in bag " 6 

Chocolate (for eating), in waxed paper.. " 4 

Coffee, ground, in bag " 2 

Tea, in bag • • " 1 


Salt, in bamboo tube ^ •'-C^x " 2 

%%fo^, TTo 

Bags, paper, tin, tube .. .j3..''-<0.K.>v^;t'^V^. 5 

The articles in the main pack suffice for an in-K (^ 
definite period. If one is going out only for a couple f)->^ ^<> 
of days he will not carry all of them. The P^o- ->^''^^^^5Jb». 
visions aftord a varied diet, yet weigh no more > p^ ^A> * 
than "iron rations" of hardtack, bacon, and cofEee,*>-J^O» 
and they keep as well. They are very nourishing v> ^ 
for their w^eight, being almost water-free (except 
fresh bread, if taken instead of flour). Since one 
usually travels either where fish or game can be 
secured, or where farm produce can be bought, the 
food packed along may last longer than two days. 
If such rations as those here listed were carried 
sufficient for a week, the whole burden would still 
be only about 353^ pounds, allowing for a larger 
pack sack. 

When bread is to be baked on the journey, I 
make up a mixture beforehand of wheat flour 
(2 parts), cornmeal (l part), a little egg powder, 
and some baking powder sifted in. This makes a 
fine johnny-cake, lighter than common frying-pan 
bread, wholesomer, and better tasting. 

Abjure all canned stuffs on a marching trip. If 
you test the canned meats, etc., that are put up in 
tins small enough for one man, you will find that 
nearly or quite half of the w^eight is in the tin. 

The little bags mentioned above are made of the 
thin but stout paraffined cloth called by tent makers 
"balloon silk." Salt draws too much moisture to be 
carried in a bag, and it quickly rusts tin; so cut 
a joint of bamboo to proper length, put in the salt, 
and secure the cork with a strip of adhesive plaster. 
Such tubes are useful for various purposes, being 
very light and unbreakable. 

In Vol. I. (p. 190), I spoke of the difficulty in get- 


ting milk powder made of anything richer than skim 
milk. Since then I have learned that a certain Nev/ 
York outfitter keeps in stock milk powder that con- 
tain 27^ per cent, of butter fat, which is the U. S. 
Government standard for whole milk, cream in- 
cluded, and it is good. 

A waterproof match box is good for emergencies, 
but not for a smoker's daily supply. For this I 
waterproof the matches themselves, as described in 
Vol. I. (p. 173) and carry them on my belt in a 
snap-buttoned pigskin case that came originally with 
a round carborundum whetstone. This is the handi- 
est way I know of when one does not wear a coat 
or vest. A similar pocket will carry thirty .22~cali- 
ber cartridges for your rifle or pistol. 

A bag of the cheesecloth is used to carry fish in, 
or to hang up game in when flies are about, and a 
little square of it serves as substitute for a tea-ball. 

Nails are not needed unless you expect to stay 
several days in one place and wish to put up a 
lean-to of baker tent shape, with shelter clorh for 
roof, and thatched sides and back — then they are use- 
ful in making the frame. In that case you will 
want half a dozen each of 6d and 3d wire nails, 
and some galvanized tacks (they do not rust the 
cloth). A few I -inch wire brads are handy to hang 
kettles on pot-hooks, as they do not split the end of 
a green stick, but simple notches will do. 

When traveling in company through a thickly 
wooded region, where the men may have to scatter 
to find a trail or a divide, it is good forethought for 
each of them to carry a whistle, the army pattern 
being a good one. Its note carries better than the 
voice, and it saves breath. Have a pre-arranged 
code of signals, such as one note: *'I am here," twoi 
"Come this way," and so on. 

Featherweight Kits. — ^The outfit already listed 
may be considered of medium weight. A heavier 
one, for cold weather camping, will be suggested in 
Chapter IX. But what is the lightest equip" 
ment that will serve for tramping and camping. 


decently, in civilized country? Many summei out- 
ers who enjoy walking and like to explore out-05-the- 
way places are interested in that question. 

Well, what would you say of a ready-made 
camping outfit that weighs just 7 pounds? Tent, 
jointed poles, pegs, ground sheet, sleeping bag, air 
pillow, toilet articles, canvas bucket and wash-basin, 
spirit stove, cooking utensils — seven pounds to the 
very ounce ; and the whole kit is so compact that 
it stows in a light rucksack, or a bicycle pannier, 
with room left for spare clothing and such food 
as is not bought along the route of travel. Total 
burden about 10 pounds, with w^hich the lone pe- 
destrian or cycle tourist is independent of hotels and 
boarding-houses ! 

I first heard of this campestral marvel in 19 10, 
when a young Londoner wrote me for a dimensional 
sketch of a tomahawk I had recommended. A 
chatty correspondence followed that introduced me 
to a new Old World scheme of tent life very dif- 
ferent from what I was used to, but one developed 
to the last line of refinement and full of canny tricks 
of the outers' guild. 

For me it was an eye-opener to find the lightest 
camp equipments of the world in England, a nation 
1 had always associated with one-ton "caravans'* 
at home and five-ton "safaris" abroad. Verily here 
was the art of open-air life evolved to a type un- 
dreamed of in our own country. 

Back of this development, I learned, were years 
of patient, thoroughgoing experiment by scores of 
men and women whose one fad (if it be a fad) was 
to perfect a camping kit that should be light, lighter, 
lightest, and yet right, righter, rightest. Then it 
came to me from faraway years that the father of 
modern lightweight camping was not the Yankee 
"Nessmuk," but the Scotchman Macgregor, who in 
1865, built the first modern canoe, Rob Roy, and 
cruised her a thousand miles with no bag^eage but 
a black bag one foot square and six inches deep. It 
was said of Macgregor that he would not willingly 
give even a flv deck passage. 


Featherweight camping in ''civilized" fashion be- 
gan with the Rob Roy, progressed with the flotillas 
of British and American canoeists who followed its 
skipper's example, was refined by the squadrons of 
cycle tourists and the pedestrian campers who 
scour the highways and byways of all Christendom 
in their yearly holidays. 

To one w^hose camps have always been pitched 
in the wilderness the seven-pound English kit seems 
amusingly frail and inadequate. Such a one might 
exclaim in mock reverence, as my partner used to 
when he caught me modeling some new-fangled 
"dingbat": "Great and marvelous art thy works, 
Lord Geeminy Crimlny!" But such an outfit is 
not meant for the wilderness. It is for the inde- 
pendent vacationist who wants to ramble off the 
beaten track, to see what conventional travelers al- 
ways miss: the most interesting and picturesque 
places and peoples in their own and foreign coun- 

European outfitters have been catering for years 
to this class of trade; but what have we done for 
it? Precious little. Whoever goes in for that sort 
of vacation must either pack around with him twice 
as much weight and bulk as there is any sense in, 
if he buys his kit ready made, or he must build an 
equipment for himself, which few tourists have 
either the time or the skill to do. Perhaps, then, 
this foreign cult may be worth looking into. 

First, the featherweight kit already alluded to. It 
was designed by Owen G. Williams, and marketed 
by J. Langdon & Sons, Duke St., Liverpool. The 
constituent parts, with their weights, and prices 
before the war, are given below. If ordered to- 
gether the price of complete outfit was £4 4s, or 
about $21.00. 


Price Weight 

"Featherweight" tent complete £1 10 2 8 

Ground sheet and pegs for same 4 3 IS 


"Comfy" sleeping-bag (eiderdown) .. .2 2 1 4 

Compact brush and comb and mirror. 19 2 

Japanese rubbered air cushion 16 2 

"Compleat" cooking outfit and stove. 3 6 15 

Aluminum knife, fork and spoon 14 2 

% pint aluminum flask and egg cup...O 2 8 3 

Enamelled cup, plate, and mop, per set 9 5 

Canvas bucket and wash basin 2 3 6 

Pole clips and candle holder 6 2 

£4 10 6 7 lbs. 

The tent is barely large enough for one man to 
sleep in ; 3 feet high, 6 feet long, 3 feet vv^ide on the 
floor, with front and rear extensions of 32 inches 
and 36 inches respectively. It is a modification of 
the common "A" or wedge pattern. The doorways 
are cut so as to peg out straight in front, affording 
an outside windshield for cooking. The back end 
is rounded for storage accommodation and to pro- 
vide in the worst of weather for cooking without 
risk of spilling foodstuff on the ground sheet. 

The top, which shields the sleeper, is made of 
"swallow-wing," unprocessed but rain-proof. The 
bottom portion of the tent is of a lighter material 
that helps ventilate, but still is spray-proof. The 
tent alone weighs 22 ounces, poles and case 10 
ounces, pegs and lines 8 ounces. The tent rolls 
into a package 8^ inches long by 4 inches thick. 
The poles unjoint to a length of 23 inches. 

I am assured that this midget shelter will stand 
up in a hurricane that overthrows wall tents, mar- 
quees, and the army bell tent. Enthusiastic camp- 
ers use it even in winter, sleeping out without a 
fire when the tent sags heavily wnth snow. They 
find it satisfactory protection in torrents of gusty 
rain so fierce as to wet through a common tent in 
spite of the fly, by driving through the material 
of back or front. It has stood nine months' con- 
tinuous service in Canada. 

The ground sheet is of a special fawn waterproof 
sheeting, 5 feet by 3 feet, eyeletted at each corner, 
and with pegs to hold it down. 


The sleeping-bag is shaped narrow at the foot 
to save weight and bulk, and is of the old-fashioned 
pattern closed with a draw-string. It is stufEed 
thinly with eiderdown, the warmest of all known 
materials for its weight and (rolled up) bulk. It 
has a thin rubbered cover bag, waterproof and wind- 
pi oof. For those who dislike the stuffiness of so 
small a ''sleeping-pocket" the same outfitters pro- 
vided down quilts of two sizes, the 6x4 foot size, 
with valance, weighing S/i- pounds. 

The air-pillow is a Japanese contrivance, in- 
ciedibly light and compact. A reeded form, more 
comfortable than the plain oblong one listed with 
the set, is 12 x 10 inches, weighs only 2^^ ounces, 
and three of them can be carried in a coat pocket 
when deflated. 

Since the English camper seldom could get wood 
for fuel, or permission to make a fire in the open, 
he was obliged to carry a miniature stove and some 
alcohol or kerosene. In this instance it is an al- 
cohol burner of common pad form, which is waste- 
ful of spirits, but less likely to get out of order 
than an alcohol vapor stove. The cooking outfit 
IS made up of two little kettles or deep stew-pans with 
handles, a miniature frying-pan, a toaster, a tea-ball, 
and the stove, all nesting in the outer kettle, which 
has a cover. 

Another one-man outfit was designed and is (or 
was — I know not what the war may have done 
there) manufactured by that veteran camper and 
outdoor writer, T. H. Holding, of 7 Maddox St., 
London, W. It includes the following articles: 

Tent 13 ounces 

Poles (3) 15 

Pegs 10 

Ground sheet 10 

Ground "blanket" 8 

Down quilt 20 

Cooking kit 16 " 

6 pounds 


The "Wigwam," as Mr. Holding calls his tiny 
tent, is of ordinary "A" shape and is made of 
Japanese silk, 5 f t. 1 1 in. long, 4^ ft. wide, and 4 ft. 
high, giving sufficient headroom to lounge in com- 
fortably. When rolled up it can be carried in an 
ordinary pocket. It will be noticed that the poles 
and pegs weigh practically twice as much as the 
tent itself. This is due partly to the use of shear 
poles in front, instead of a single vertical pole, 
giving freer entrance and egress, besides supporting 
the tent better. A ridge pole, weighing 10 ounces, 
is supplied extra, and is recommended for the sake 
of trim setting. The poles are of jointed bamboo, 
and the pegs of aluminum, flattened at the ends 
instead of pointed, to give a good grip in the ground. 

Of the silk tent Mr. Holding says: "Such is its 
toughness that I have seen a pair of the strongest 
fingers try to tear the material, and fail. For its 
weight and thickness it is the most powerful stuff 
in the world in the shape of textile goods. I have 
put several tents I possess to protracted and severe 
tests, and I have never had one to tear. One has 
Btood some of the heaviest rains, in fact, records 
for thirty hours at a stretch, without letting in wet, 
and I say this of an 11 -ounce silk one. . . . 

"What, however, silk does not stand well is 
friction. As an instance, open your silk umbrella 
and look down the folds, half way between each 
rib. The parts of a tent, therefore, which show 
the wear are at the pegging and head places, where 
the fingers touch it in erecting. To this end I 
recommend they should not be rolled up, as cotton 
fabrics, but rucked, like a pocket handkerchief.'* 

The "Wigwam" is also furnished ready-made in 
various other materials, cheaper but heavier than 
silk, of which the next lightest is lawn, weighing 
I pound 8 ounces. 

The ground sheet is of light mackintosh. Over 
it goes a little "ground blanket" of thin cashm.ere, 
with eyelets at the corners, so that it may be pegged 
down. This is not only for the sake of warmth. 


but also to save wear on the mackintosh, which has 
to be very thin. 

Mr. Holding's eiderdown quilt is only to cover 
with, not to roll up in. The Wigwam size is 5 ft. 
10 in. by 4 ft., to which is added a foot of cloth 
valance all around, which is pegged or weighted 
down so that the sleeper will not kick off his cover- 
ing. These quilts are thinner than the domestic 
ones of down, and roll up into remarkably small 

The cooking kit is made of thin copper. It In- 
cludes a pad spirit stove with damper and wind- 
shield, a boiler 6 inches across, a porridge pan 
that fits inside, and a fry-pan that forms a cover 
foi the boiler; also a separate handle for the various 
pans. The vessels are seamless. 

Of course, this six-pound outfit does not include 
everything that a hiker requires in camp and on the 
march. Mr. Holding gives a list of articles recom- 
mended for two pedestrians traveling together: 

lbs. oz. 

"A" Tent, 6 ft. by 5 ft. 9 in. by 5 ft. 9 in 2 

Set of 2 tent poles 1 

Set of pegs (ordinary sikewers) 3 

Oil stove— "Baby Primus" 1 3 

Aluminum pans — "So Soon" pattern 1 1 

Piece of waterproof for tent 2 

2 Aluminum cups and saucers (plates) .... 4 

2 sets Aluminum knife, fork, spoon 4 

Candlestick and candle 2 

Aluminum box of soap 1 

6 4 
The piece of waterproof is two feet square. It is 
to roll up the tent in when wet, and serves other- 
wise as a wash-basin, seat, etc. 

Each man carries half of this company kit, mak- 
ing his share 3 pounds 2 ounces. Adding his per- 
sonal equipment, his burden becomes:. 

lbs. oz. 

Share of bag-gage 3 2 

Mackintosh coat 1 6 

Air pillow 3 


Down pillow (a luxury) 1 

Sweater 1 

Sleeping- stockings (long ones) 6 

Extra walking socks 4 

Down quilt 1 10 

Thin extra vest (undershirt) 5 

Scarf 2 

Tooth brush, etc 3 

Hold-all with straps (under) 8 

9 2 

For hiking Instead of cycling, a rucksack should 
be substituted for the hold-all. Adding a towel, the 
weight, without food, is close to 10 pounds, with 
part food 12 pounds. 

The "Baby" kerosene vapor stove here listed is 
like a regular Primus except that Its valve is in 
different position, the pump Is set In snugly at the 
side. It has rounded cone feet set Inward, and it is 
of reduced size, weighing only i pound 3 ounces 
instead of 4 pounds. A still smaller stove of the 
same pattern, called the "Pocket Primus," measures 
2^ inches deep by 4 inches across, when packed, 
and weighs only i pound i ounce. 

Another specialty is the "So-Soon" cooking kit. 
The lower vessel Is a boiler 3^ by 53^^ inches, the 
second is another boiler that fits inside the first, 
next Is a stew or porridge pan which, inverted, 
makes a covet for the kit ; on top is the frying-pan, 
I Inch deep. All of these vessels are of stamped 
aluminum. A separate handle fits all of them. A 
"Baby Primus" stove fits Inside the nested pans. The 
main boiler tapers narrower at the bottom, so as to 
keep the set from rattling when carried about. No 
part has any excrescence or projection to obstruct 
the packing. The whole set, omitting stove, weighs 
T pound 5 ounces. 

There Is a smaller "So-Soon" set made for the 
"Pocket Primus," which is 3^ by 5^ inches, and 
its three vessels weigh only 8 ounces. 

Returning to the subject of tents : the English out- 
fitters supply them of many shapes and sizes and 


in various lightweight materials, besides common 
tents, of course. It will strike American campers 
as peculiar that none of the extra thin materials 
used in tents up to 7 x 7 size are subjected to any 
waterproofing process whatever. For rain-shed- 
ding quality they depend solely, like an umbrella, 
upon the closeness with which the textile is woven. 
On examining these clothes one is surprised at their 
exceeding fineness of texture. Some of the cotton 
goods are woven almost twice as fine as our so-called 
"balloon silk" or the 4-ounce special Lowell cloth 
used for extra-light racing sails on small craft. 

The best lawns, etc., are made from Egyptian 
cotton, which has a stronger and finer fiber than 
American cotton, and is said to be 15 per cent, 
stronger. In spite of this, I doubt if any thin, un- 
processed tent is really rainproof unless it is stretched 
very taut and the occupant takes great pains to 
avoid touching it from the inside. In a shelter only 
three or four feet high, and wedge-shaped, one can 
hardly help rubbing against the interior, and then 
will come the drip-drip that we know too well. 
Even the rear wall, though vertical, will be rubbed 
hy one's pillow in a very short tent, and then, if 
rain is driven by the wind, this wall will leak. 
The only remedy would be to waterproof the cloth 
or use a fly. 

There is another objection to extremely thin 
tenting material: it requires tighter stretching, and 
hence more pegs, than stouter material would, or it 
will belly and sag. Moreover, it stretches exces- 
sively, and then the poles will no longer fit. Mr. 
Holding himself reports that a small tent stretches 
from three to nine inches, in service. Waterproof- 
ing would prevent nearly all of this, for it is the 
alternate tightening and loosening of the cloth from 
wetting and drying that makes the fiber of the ma- 
terial loosen up. 

A feature of some of the English tents that de- 
serves copying is the angular extension of lower edge 
of door flaps, so that the doors can be pegged out 


straight in line with sides of tent, forming wind- 
shields and protection against driving rain when one 
wants the door open. Another is that the ground 
sheet, instead of being made square or rectangular, 
has the sides and rear end cut in segments of a circle, 
so as to fit against the walls when they are drawn 
outward by sagging of ridge and stretching of sides. 

The bedding here described would not suit us at 
all. The down sleeping-bag would be too stuffy. 
The Holding quilts are so narrow that they can only 
be used to cover with, and so the under side of the 
body is left unprotected by anything but cold mack- 
intosh and a very thin, sheet of cashmere. In Eng- 
land, I suppose, it is taken for granted that the 
camper will procure, for each night, a bedding of 
straw or hay; but in our country there are many 
places, even in "civilization," where the camper 
would have to chance it on the bare ground. In 
our climate (or climates) w^e need more bedding 
under than over us, if there is nothing to serve as 

The English featherweight outfits, although not 
adapted to our needs, are very suggestive, and Amer- 
ican pedestrian tourists will do well to study them. 
(Full details are given in Mr. Holding's Camper s 
Haridbook^. Not only lightness but compactness 
seem to have been brought to an irreducible mini- 
mum. For example, there is a complete cycle-camp- 
ing outfit for two men, including tent, down quilt, 
toilet articles, cooking utensils, etc., that stows in s 
bag only 15 x 7 x 7 inches! 

Chapter viii 


The simplest way to carry a light marching kit 
is in a blanket roll. It is made up as follows: Spread 
the shelter cloth or tent on the ground, fold the 
blanket once, end for end, and place it on top, 
with same amount of cloth left uncovered at front 
and rear. Divide the other equipment into two piles 
of equal weight, arrange one of these along one 
€nd of blanket, the other along the other end. 
Told free sides of shelter cloth over all. Roll the 
whole afifair as tightly and smoothly as possible, 
and secure with straps or cords, one at middle and 
one half-way to either end, making a roll about six 
feet long. Then fasten each end tightly with a 
slip-knot, leaving enough free cord on each to tie 
the ends of the roll together In horse-collar form. 
It takes two men to make a neat job of this. 

The roll is worn over one shoulder with end? 
over opposite hip. Some pedestrians like the blanket 
roll because it saves the expense and weight of a 
pack-sack or harness, and because it can be shifted 
from one side to the other. In reality nothing is 
gained in ease of carrj^Ing, but rather the contrary. 
All the weight is thrown on one shoulder at a time, 
and there is no help from the hips. A man can 
carry a heavier load In a pack-sack with less fatigue 
in the long run. 

The blanket roll is oppressive in hot weather, and 
its pressure on the chest Is a handicap at all times. 
It is much In the way when one has to climb 
or crawl, and even more so when you go to shoot. 
It will not hold half the equipment mentioned in 




my summer list, and if a haversack is added, you 
have a particularly irksome "flip-flop" to impede 
you, and the "advantage" of shifting weights is 
then lost. A blanket roll is suitable only for a 
day's hike and a one-night camp ; even so, it is much 
less comfortable than a light pack on one's back. 

Pack Harness. — I leave out of account simple 
tump lines and the like, because they are practical 
only for canoeists carrying heavy burdens across 

A pack harness is an 
arrangement of straps 
for carrying an outfit 
made up into a bundle 
inside the blanket, or 
for toting two duffel 
bags strapped side by 
side. The illustration 
(Fig. 23) shows one 
with tump or head-band 
added. If bags are not 
used, the bundle must 
be wrapped in a pack 
cloth of strong water- 
proof canvas (the tent 
or shelter cloth will 
not do, for it needs pro- 
tection from rough usage). As to this method of 
packing I quote from the book on Winter Camp- 
ing (Outing Handbooks) by Warwick S. Car- 
penter, who has had more experience with It than I : 

"The arrangement that I have frequently used is 
that of the pack cloth, with the outfit and blankets 
or sleeping bag folded inside. Its flexibility for 
various sizes of load commend it strongly, and the 
pack cloth may be used as shelter iDesides, or as a 
ground cloth in a lean-to or tent. The method of 
making this pack is to lay the pack cloth on the 
ground and place the blankets or sleeping bag folded 
once on top of the cloth. Place the outfit as com- 
pactly as possible on the blankets or bag and fold 
it tightly in, making; the bundle . . . consider- 

Fig, 23. — Pack Harness 
with Head Strap 


ably longer than it is wide and thick. Then takts 
the end of the pack cloth which runs along the 
bottom of the pack, and bend it up over the folded 
bundle. Next take the sides of the pack cloth and 
fold them over, or if there is) much cloth, roll the 
whole pack over from side to side, keeping every- 
thing snug and tight. 

This will leave the bottom of the pack cloth folded 
inside and the sides of the cloth lapping all around 
so that no snow or wet will sift in at the bottom. 
Fold the still open top down as a flap, just as you 
would the end of a paper package, with the folded 
flap at the side of the pack away from the back. Pass 
a rope or a strap lengthwise around the whole and 
then attach the harness with its shoulder straps or 
tump line. Such a pack is absolutely secure against 
snow or rain. 

The best form of pack-harness is that which is 
made with a broad shoulder piece shaped like a 
sailor's collar, the wide bands of which run well 
over the shoulders and about eight inches down in 
frbnt. From the back of the collar, about five inches 
apart, two vertical straps run downward about fifteen 
inches to the small of the back and bend up under 
the arms to meet the broad bands in front. There 
they are fastened with buckles, and the straps are 
made long enough to permit considerable taking up 
or letting out. Riveted horizontally to the straps 
behind, one at the height of the collar piece and the 
other fifteen inches lower, are two straps six feet 
long, which go around the pack. This harness may 
be bought of any dealer in camping outfits, but the 
collar portion of all that I have seen is made of 
heavy canvas. This very quickly wrinkles and draws 
up and cuts the shoulders. It is far better to have 
it made of a very heavy piece of leather. 

One of these that I put together myself has been 
used for years and the broad bands that go over the 
shoulders are still as smooth and comfortable as 
when new. To the back of the collar should be 
riveted two short straps about six inches long, ex- 
tending upward, as the others go downward. To 
these can be buckled a broad tump which goes over 
the forehead. It will be adjustable with the buckles 
or can be removed entirely." 

The chief merit of this kind of pack is its adapt- 
ability to any size or shape of bundle. On the 
other hand, the weig;ht of harness and pack cloth 
S')eethev ("U-^a to 5 pounds) is considerably more 


than that of a roomy pack-sack. True, the cloth 
can be used as a ground sheet under the blanket at 
night, but that is not needed if one has a sleeping- 
bag, or a browse-bag (and rubber cape to go over 
it when things are wet) which weighs but a pound 
and makes a far better bed. Pack cloths are made 
fiom 5 X 6 to 6 X 7 feet, which is too small for a 
shelter cloth. Another disadvantage is that when- 
ever you want to get at anything in the pack, the 
whole thing must be undone and repacked. 

The tump or head-band is a good addition not 
only to a pack harness but to almost any other kind 
of pack used for carrying heavy weights. General- 
ly it wnll not be used until the shoulders tire; then 
it relieves the strain. It is an advantage in climb- 
ing steep hillsides. When fording a swift stream, 
crossing on a foot-log or fallen tree, going over 
v/indfalls, crossing ice, or passing other dangerous 
places, the shoulder straps may be dropped, the head- 
strap alone being emplo3Td ; then, if you slip or get 
overbalanced, the load can be cast off instantly by 
throwing back the head, and you save your bones 
or possibly your life. When the tump is not in use, 
drop it down over the chest. 

Military Knapsacks. — In most European 
armies the infantry carry small knapsacks made of 
leather, stiffened with a framework of wood or bam- 
boo, or reinforced at the sides to give a certain 
rigidity. Inside the knapsack are stowed spare un- 
dervvear, fatigue shoes (if any), a reserve ration, 
spare ammunition, and various small articles. • The 
blanket, or overcoat, is rolled tightly in a shelter 
half and strapped around the top and sides, and a 
mess kettle generally is strapped on the outside. In 
some models, as the German, the interior is divided 
into compartments to separate and protect the dif- 
ferent articles and to assure a constant distribution 
of the weight. 

A military knapsack is too small for campers, it 
IS much too heavy for its size, and it obliges the 
wearer to carry most of his outfit outside, attached 


to it, or strapped separately to the person. Such an 
airangement is bad, for various reasons. A blanket 
roll strapped around the outside does not fit well 
on a soft sack. The knapsack must be stiff, there- 
fore heavy, and it must be narrow, or the complete 
pack will project too much beyond the shoulders, 
worrying the bearer by preventing the free swing 
of his arms, and proving a serious obstacle when 
he has to go through the matted undergrowth of a 
forest. Besides, the blanket is needed as a soft 
pad against one's back. If worn on the outside, it 
must be protected by something. A thin tent or 
shelter cloth will not do, because it, too, needs 
protection against snags and abrasion. If a poncho 
or cape is used for the purpose, it must be a heavy 
one, to stand the wear, whereas it should be light 
from every other consideration ; and your waterproof 
is best carried where you can get at it and don it 

As for "flip-flops" and "stick-outs" in your equip- 
ment, they are anathema. Suppose you have to cross 
a stream or a deep gulley on a fallen tree. If there 
is a dangling article about you, such as a haversack, 
it will swing to one side and tend to throw you off 
balance. If anything sticks out of your pack, or is 
tied on the outside of it, the thing will everlastingly 
be catching in vines and 'bushes. Taking it day in 
and day out, in all kinds of country, the best pack 
13 a commodious sack on your back that contains 
everything you carry except what goes in your pock- 
ets and in one hand. 

The soft canvas knapsack formerly used by our 
own army has no compartments save a narrow out- 
side pocket, under the flap, and is not stiffened. It is 
cheap (from dealers in second-hand military equip- 
ments), very strong, and serviceable as a carryall for 
one's personal duffel aside from shelter and bedding. 
This pattern, like most other military ones, is ill- 
suited to carrying heavy loads, because the points 
of suspension of the shoulder straps fsee Fig. 24, 
A J B) are too near the outer edge of the knapsack 



and consequently drag on the weakest part of the 
shoulders, next to the arms. The strain should 
come nearer the neck, 
where the vertebral 
column will help to 
support it. 

Old types of knap- 
sacks had the straps 
crossed over the breast 
— about the worst 
arrangement that 
could be devised, since 
it compresses the bear- 
er's chest and inter- 
feres wnth his breath- 
ing. A horizontal 
strap across the chest 
to keep shoulder straps Fig. 24.— Old U.S.A. Knap- 
from spreading is like- sack (back). A. B. points of 
wise oppressive, and suspension 

bothersome because it must be unbuckled before the 
knapsack can be cast off. 


From time im- 
memorial the cham- 
ois hunters of the 
Alps have used a 
simple but ingen- 
ious pack sack for 
carrying light kits 
and game. This Is 
called a rucksack. 
It is to-day the fa- 
vorite packing de- 
vice of European 

Fig 25.-Rucksack with Flap ^Ipjnists and ped- 
estrian tourists, IS 
much used as a game bag, and, of late years, has 

^Rucksack is a German word meaning "back-sacK." In English 
the umlaut sign (two dots over u) is dropped and the pro- 
nunciation changed so thcit ruck rhymes with stuck. 


come into vogue in our country for light mountain- 
eering and for walking trips in settled regions. In 
tourists' patterns the opening is protected from dust 
and rain by a flap (Fig. 25), and one or two covered 
pockets may be added on the outside (Fig. 27) for 
such articles as may be wanted from time to time 
on the way. In its original form the rucksack is 
sketched in Fig. 26, which shows an open-mouthed 
bag of light cloth closed by a puckering cord. 

The rucksack is 
distinguished from 
all other packs by 
the method of at- 
taching its shoulder 
straps, which swing 
directly from the 
puckering cord at 
the top, and are fast- 
ened below by tog- 
gles, hooks, OT 
buckles. (Fig. 25 
shows another fast- 
ening by a cord tj^- 
ing into the shoulder 
strap with a looped 
knot; this is easily 
adjustable, and a tug 
at the end of the 
cord will loosen the 
pack instantly). 
The point of sus- 
pension, then, is in 
the center of the 
sack's top, instead of 
near the upper cor- 
ners as on a military 
knapsack. This 

Fig. 26. — Plain Rucksack 
(after Payne-Gallwey) 

brings the strain over the strongest part of the 
shoulders, where it is least felt. 

Since the rucksack is made of light cloth, with 
no stiffening, it is very caoacious for its weieht: one 



chat holds half a bushel can be rolled up and tucked 
into the pocket of a hunting coat. When filled 
with spare clothing and such other articles as would 
be carried by one who went afoot through well 
settled districts and put up for the night at inns or 
farmhouses, the weight of such a pack is hardly 
noticeable. On the hike, one's coat or cape, rolled 
up, may be carried under the flap. The plain ruck- 
sack, w^ithout flap, is easy to get into, since all you 
have to do is to pull one end of the puckering cord 
and the bag is wide open : this makes it handy as a 
game bag. The w^eight, being carried low and tight 
against the body, does not tend to overbalance one 
in difficult climbing — a point of consequence to 

But the rucksack is a poor 
device for carrying such a kit 
as is required by one who 
sleeps out and totes his bed 
and shelter with him. Its 
contents bunch up into a 
rounded lump (see Fig. 27), 
and heavy articles work to 
the bottom. Everything gets 
jumbled up. Worse still, the* 
pack "rides" so low that it 
presses hard against the small 
of the back, which is the 
worst of all places to put a 
strain on. 

I tried out the rucksack thoroughly, years ago, 
It is a good contrivance for carrying the day's necesi 
sities when you are reasonably sure of reaching a 
house or camp at night, being never in the way 
like a haversack or blanket-roll, yet more capacious. 
The one illustrated in Fig. 25, made of thin brown 
waterproof canvas, 21 inches wide by 22 inches high, 
weighs 12 ounces. Another outfitter supplies one of 
about the same size, in waterproofed olive-drab cloth, 
with an outside pocket, that weighs only 9 ounces. 
One of these is an excellent carrier ior a ieathep 

27. — Rucksack 
in Use 


weight camping kit, but for packs of over 15 pounds, 
I will have none of it. 

An interesting modification of the rucksack, which 
brings the weight where it can best be borne, is the 
Norwegian army pack sack (Figs. 28, 29). In 
this the sack is united to a support of oak or ash, 
which comprises a horizontal wooden crosspiece {A ) 
and two vertical pieces {B, C) curved to fit the back. 
Bag and frame are joined at the bottom by two 
rings, which are sewed on leather bands and at- 
tached to the horizontal piece of wood, at one end 

Fig. 28. — Norwegian 
Knapsack in Use 

Fig. 29. — Norwegian 
Knapsack (Back) 

by a spring placed on the traverse, and at the other 
by an eyebolt. At the top they are joined by a 
strap, one part of which is sewed on the middle of 
the back of the knapsack, the other, or free part, 
being passed through a slit made in the upper part 
of the support, and bent back and buttoned on 

The slings of the knapsack draw from the center, 
as in a rucksack, but are attached to a small arch- 
shaped brass piece riveted to the upper part of the 
support. Their free ends have hooks which engage 
In the eyes of eyebolts fixed at each end of the lower 
traverse of the frame. On each sling, at the height 
of the armpit, there Is a double button on which is 
■fixed a counter sling furnished with a brass hook- 



which latter is hooked to the belt from the under 
side, helping to support cartridge pouches. The 
knapsack is 173^ inches high, 143^ inches wide, and 
weighs 3^ pounds. I have seen lighter ones made 
for civilians. The lower crosspiece rests above the 
hips, on the pelvis, which, the designer says, "is the 
most suitable part of our framework to support 
burdens." The shoulder straps have little more 
to do than keep the pack against the back. 

Fig. 30. — Tourist Knap- 
sack (back) 

Fig. 31. — Nessmuk Pack 

Another and lighter way of stiftening a knapsack 
is to reinforce the sides and insert pieces of cane 
vertically in small pockets on the back (Fig. 30). 
This also allows air to circulate between the pack 
and the bearer's back, preventing excessive sweating. 
(When our old army knapsack was w^orn, in sum- 
mer, men would sweat clear through the heavy can- 
vas). The tourist's knapsack here illustrated is 
pliable and yet has enough rigidity to maintain a 
neat form. Of course, it is not suitable for carry- 
ing a heavy weight. In this case the slings are 
suspended centrally from a D-ring {A in the ngure). 
A handle like that of a shawl-strap is provided, 
so that the knapsack may be carried like a satchel 
when one is in town. Straps on top are provided to 
carry the coat or cape. 

Pack Sacks. — I use this term specifically to de- 
note sacks that are roomy enough to take inside 
a whole outfit for the pedestrian or canoeist who 
camps out. It would be a waste of space to de- 


scribe half the patterns that are listed by outfitters, 
as there are so many that are ill-designed. Three 
examples that have good "points" will suffice: 

The so-called "Nessmuk" pack sack (he did not 
design it) is shown in Fig. 31. It is made of 
medium-weight brown waterproof canvas. The bag 
has boxed sides that taper from about 5 inches width 
at bottom to 3 inches at top (not shown in illus- 
tration) and it is about 3 inches narrower at the 
top than at the bottom. To the top edge of the 
bag proper is sewed a throat piece like that of a 
duffel bag. When the bag has been packed, this 
throat piece is gathered together and tied like the 
mouth of a grain sack, so as to exclude water. You 
may take a header while fording a streami, or cap- 
size your canoe, without getting water inside the 
pack. The extension also allows the sack to be 
packed fuller than normal, so that when carried the 
pack rises as high as one's collar. It is somewhat 
in the way when one is making up his pack, but, 
when tied, there is no risk of losing anything out of 
the bag. 

This pack sack carries higher, and hence more 
comfortably, than a rucksack. It will contain a 
li.8;ht camping equipment, say one of twenty pounds. 
The slings draw from the center, but are some- 
what over 2 Inches apart at top of pack, and so 
do not pucker the bag so much, nor throw Its top 
so far backward, as if they drew straight from a 

The common pattern of "Nessmuk" pack has light 
web shoulder straps, which are an unmitigated nuis- 
ance: they wrinkle up and cut like ropes. Get 
the better grade with leather straps. I have one 
of this kind, 20 Inches wide by 15 Inches high, 
that weighs 2 pounds 2 ounces. It would be better 
If the throat piece were a couple of Inches longer. 
The buckle for the flap strap should be placed as 
high as the upper hole of the strap. There Is a 
similar sack 5 x 16 x 18 Inches, with an outside 
pocket almost the size of the face of the pack, which, 
^^'th leather slings, weighs only 24 ounces. 



For regular packing, when one sleeps out, the 
best pack sack at a moderate price that I know of 
is what is known as the Duluth, or, from its in- 
ventor, the Poirier pattern (Fig 32). Originally- 
made for trappers, timber cruisers, and other pro- 
fessional woodsmen, it is now used by many 
sportsmen as well. The Duluth sack has no boxed 
sides, but is sewed up in the form of a simple bag^ 
and so is made wider and higher than boxed ones of 
equal capacity. 

32.— Duluth Pack 

Fig. 33.— Whelen Pack 

The advantage is that one's blanket, which goes 
in first, as a pad for the back, can be folded two 
feet square, or a little more, and consequently in 
fewer thicknesses ; hence the bag packs flatter than a 
boxed one and does not bulge so far backward at 
the top. Poirier makes his pack sacks in three 
grades: (A) 12-oz. duck, heavy grain leather 
shoulder straps and canvas head strap, all straps and 
buckles fastened with copper rivets and burrs; (B) 
lo-oz. duck, canvas shoulder and head straps; (C) 
lo-oz. duck, canvas shoulder straps, no head strap. 
By all means get the A grade, as canvas slings will 


wrinkle when wet and cut the shoulders. The 
standard sizes and weights, in A grade, are as 
follows : 

No. 1. 24 X 26 inches. 2% lbs. 
No. 2. 26 X 28 inches. 2^/4 lbs. 
No. 3. 28 X 30 inches. 2^ lbs. 

For a pedestrian the No. i or No. 2 is large 
enough. A canoeist will find one of the larger 
ones ample to hold all the duffel for a single- 
handed cruise, and a week's provisions; but if he 
chooses to carry more on the outside, then, when he 
comes to a portage, the surplus articles can be piled 
on top ot the pack, the head strap will be put to use, 
and he can tote as much as with a tump line, or 
more, because the shoulders assist. 

The shoulder straps of the Duluth sack start from 
a common center, where they are riveted to an in- 
side piece of leather. They fork from between one's 
shoulder blades like a pair of suspenders. The flap 
is hilf as long as the sack, and it is fitted with three 
long straps whereby the sack may be adjusted snug- 
ly to a large or small load. As the sack has a wide 
mouth, it is easy to pack and to get into. The 
three straps hold down the flap closely at the cor- 
ners as well as in the center, and so keep out rain 
and snow and prevent things spilling out. There 
is no throat piece; but a wise woodsman stows his 
perishables in light waterproof bags, anyway. 

The pack designed by Captain Townsend 
Whelen. U. S. A., has an ingenious arrangement 
for regulating the size of the bag according to w^hat 
is carried. It consists of a many-gored bag (Fig. 
33), about 18 inches wide by 22 inches long with- 
out the gores. The bag can be let out enough to 
carry a small deer, feet up, or, by means of a strap 
that goes around it from top to bottom, it can be 
triced up, gores folded Inside, until there Is nothing 
of It but a little knapsack for carrying one's daily 
equipment. There are two roomy pockets on the 
outside, one of them, for the camera, made so that 


no water can get into it. The arrangement of 
straps is such that all the strain is put on them in- 
stead of on the canvas. Made of 12-oz. waterproof 
khaki duck, the Whelen pack sack weighs 2^ 

Combination Pack Sacks. — Since "an ounce 
in the morning is a pound before night" when 
one goes afoot, and "a mile uphill is five on the 
level," many ingenious contrivances have been de- 
vised to make one article in the outfit serve two or 
more purposes. So we have various combinations 
of pack and tent, pack and sleeping-bag, pack and 
stretcher-bed, and so forth. Though I do not go so 
far as the old-timer who averred that "all combina- 
tion tricks are pizen," yet I am apt to be rather shy 
of them. An article can serve two purposes, but it 
can't do them both at the same time, and in either 
case it is likely to be a makeshift. 

If a pack does not "ride" just right, or if it is not 
easy to fill and easy to get into at any time, it is 
faulty. If the tent, or the sleeping-bag, or the 
stretcher-bed, is altered from what it should be to 
accommodate it to some other use, it is vexatious. 
Most of these inventions defeat their own purpose 
by being almost, if not quite, as bulky and heavy as 
the separate articles would be if made right. For 
instance, you can use a sleeping-bag as a pack to 
stow your duffel in, but to carry it you must have a 
harness of some sort, and that harness will weigh 
over a pound. I would rather tote an extra pound 
and have a pack sack, for it is so much more con- 
venient. The notion that a sack is good for nothing 
in camp is wrong; you need a receptacle for every- 
thing that is not in present use, lest things get 
scattered and lost. Or, if long training has made 
you habitually careful in such a matter, you may 
do with that sack as 1 often do ; turn it inside out, 
stuff it with dry leaves, put it under your filled pil- 
low-bag, and sleep with your head comfortably 

Pack Baskets. — In the forests of the northe^**- 


ern states and in the maritime provinces of Canada, 
a favorite carrier is the pack basket, made smaller 
at the top than at the bottom, flattened on the back, 
and provided with a cover. An average size is 
about 1 8 inches high, 17 inches wide at the bottom 
and 15 at the top, by about 12 inches deep. Various 
sizes can be bought from outfitters in the cities, 
who also supply them with waterproof canvas covers 
(Fig. 34). One of the latter kind, holding 1^4 
bushels, weighs 4^ pounds. A larger one, 18^ 
inches high by 18 by 14^ inches, weighs 7 pounds; 

Fig. 34. — Pack Basket Fig. 35. — Abercrombie 
(covered) Pack Frame 

it fastens with lock-buckle and strap. Uncovered 
baskets weigh from 2^ to 5 pounds, according to 
size. Common ones generally are too small at the 
top for easy stowage of bulky articles; but if the 
basket is made more than 12 inches deep it will 
drag back unmercifully on the shoulders. 

To my notion, the best that can be said of the 
pack basket is that it is a bully thing in which to 
carry canned and bottled goods — ^when some other 
fellow does the toting. It is too heavy, too abras- 
ive, and too bothersome in the brush and thickets, 
for average foot travelers, and it does not stow so 
well in a canoe as a pack sack of equal capacity. 

Pack Frames. — The far Northwest has another 


pet rig for the "human beast of burden" : the pack 
frame. In its simplest form this consists of two 
vertical or slightly flaring pieces of wood jomed by 
cross-bars near the top and bottom, covered with a 
sheet of canvas, and fitted on one side with broad 
straps for the shoulders, on the other with straps 
ropes, or thongs, for tying on the load. One model 
ha« a little skeleton shelf on the back, near the bot- 
tom, for the pack to rest on, this shelf being fitted 
with hinged metal supports so it can be folded down 
when not in use. Such a frame leaves an air space 
between the body and the pack, and so does not sweat 
the carrier's back like a knapsack. ^ A load of any 
size or shape can easily be fixed on it. The weight 
Is comfortably balanced and divided between should- 
ers and hips. The upright pieces of wood are ot 
such length that their lower ends support the whole 
load when the man sits down to rest, as on a log, 

for instance. . . . 

Figure 35 shows a new Invention in pack trames, 
by D T. Abercromble. In this the frame, and 
consequently the load, is kept quite away from the 
lower part of the back, being joined to a hip strap 
by a rod with horizontal arm on each side, i here 
is a tump strap, as well as shoulder straps. Heavy 
weights can be carried with this contrivance, and, 
no matter how hard or Irregular the load may be, 
it cannot hurt the back. The frame complete 
weighs only 2>^ pounds. 

Pack frames are not suitable for ordinary pedes- 
trian trips, of course, but have such merit lor port- 
aging heavy and hard or sharp-cornered baggage 
that I mention them here, while on the subject of 
packing on human backs and shoulders. ^ 

Canteens.— One may travel where wateris hard 
to find, though this seldom is the case in a timbered 
region. The best canteen Is one of aluminum 
which neither leaks nor rusts like the old-fashioned 
tin affairs. It should have a canvas cover with 
felt lining. When the feU is wet Its moisture cools 
the v^ater In the canteen bv evaporation, i he can- 


vas cover prevents too rapid evaporation, and keeps 
the canteen from wetting one's clothing. At night 
or in case of illness, the thing can be used as a 
hot-water bottle, the insulation keeping the water 
hot for a considerable time. The best pattern is the 
present regulation army canteen, which is shaped like 
a fiat flask, but with one side rounded a little and 
the other concaved to fit the body. It has a flat 
bottom, so you can stand it up. The aluminum 
screw-cap, held by a chain, cannot jolt out like the 
corks of common canteens. 

To cleanse the vessel, boil it. To sterilize sus- 
pected water, fill the naked canteen and place it 
unstoppered, on the fire till the water boils. The 
army model holds one quart, and weighs ii ounces 
It can be bought from some outfitters, either with 
or without an aluminum cup that fits over the 
bottom. It is rigged to carry on the belt, where 
It will not flop nor pound the wearer. To draw 
It from Its cover, turn two little thumb-screw fast- 
eners half a turn, and you can whisk it out almost 
as easily as you would a pistol. 

Aluminum is not fit to carry liquor in; but, for 
that matter, neither is tin. One of my old partners 
and I, on a voyage to the Arkansas swamps, once 
hit upon what we conceived to be a brilliant scheme 
tor transporting a gallon of whiskey inconspicuously 
in our John-boat. (You know whiskey warms the 
hearts of otherwise disobliging natives— yes in- 
deedy). We got a new kerosene can, had a tinner 
remove the spout and solder a patch of tin over if 
then in went Old Taylor. We didn't open that can 
tor a week (hadn't seen any natives) . Then along 
came the dickens of a cold rain, and, when it ceased, 
we declared an 'emergency." Well, what do you 
think.'' I hat whiskey had turned as black as ink. 
l^Gtztausend hirnmel donnerwetter! or words to that 
etlect If anybody doubts that we didn't open that 
stuff for a week, I refer him to S. D. Barnes, cap- 
tain of said John-boat, of which I was crew 

In mountaineering ft often happens that one plans 


to camp on or near the summit, and wants to carry 
water with him from some head sprmg, to save a 
long climb down after it. A large canteen would 
be cumbersome. A half-gallon rubber water-bottle 
solves the problem. It weighs less than a pound 
and takes up little room in the pack. in cold 
weather, such a bottle, filled with hot water, may 
save pj^cking the weight and bulk of an extra 



In walking through a primitive forest, an Indian 
or a white woodsman can wear out a town-bred 
athlete, although the latter may be the stronger man. 
This is because a man who is used to the woods has 
a knack of walking over uneven and slippery ground, 
edging through thickets, and worming his way amid 
fallen timber, with less fret and exertion than one 
who is accustomed to smooth, unobstructed paths. 

How TO Walk. — ^There is somewhat the same 
difference between a townsman's and a woodsman^'^ 
gait as there is between a soldier's and a sailor's. 
It it chiefly a difference of hip action, looseness of 
joints, and the manner of planting one's feet. The 
townsman's stride is an up-and-down knee action, 
with rather rigid hips, the toes pointing outward, 
and heels striking first. The carriage is erect, the 
movement springy and graceful, so long as one is 
walking over firm, level footing — but beware the 
banana-peel and the small boy's sliding-place ! This 
is an ill-poised gait, because one's weight falls first 
upon the heel alone, and at that instant the walker 
has little command of his balance. It is an ex- 
hausting gait as soon as its normally short pace is 
lengthened by so much as an inch. 

A woodsman, on the contrary, walks with a roll- 
ing motion, his hips swaying an inch or more to the 
stepping side, and his pace is correspondingly long. 
This hip action may be noticed to an exaggerated 
degree in the stride of a professional pedestrian ; but 
the latter walks with a heel-and-toe step, whereas 


an Indian's or sailor's step is more nearly flat-footed. 
In the latter case the center of gravity is covered by 
the whole foot. The poise is as secure as that of a 
rope-walker. The toes are pointed straight forward, 
or even a trifle inward, so that the inside of the heel, 
the outside of the ball of the foot, and the smaller 
toes, all do their share of work and assist in balanc- 
ing. Walking in this manner, one is not so likely, 
either, to trip over projecting roots, stones, and other 
traps, as he would be if the feet formed hooks by 
pointing outward. The necessity is obvious in snow- 

A fellow sportsman, H. G. Dulog, once re- 
marked: "If the Indian were turned to stone while 
in the act of stepping, the statue would probably 
stand balanced on one foot. This gait gives the 
limbs great control over his movements. He is al- 
ways poised. If a stick cracks under him it is be- 
cause of his weight, and not by reason of the im- 
pact. He goes silently on, and with great economy 
of force. . . . His steady balance enables him to 
put his moving foot down as gently as you would 
lay an egg on the table." 

There is another advantage in walking with toes 
pointing straight ahead Instead of outward: one 
gains ground at each stride. I have often noticed 
that an Indian's stride gains in this manner, as well 
as from the rolling motion of the hips. The white 
man acquires this habit, if he ever gets it, but an 
Indian is molded to it in the cradle. If you ex- 
amine the way In which a papoose is bound to its 
cradle-board, this will be made clear. Immediately 
after birth the Infant Is stretched out on the board, 
its bowlegged little limbs are laid as straight as 
possible, and the feet are placed exactly perpen- 
dicular and close together before being swaddled. 
Often the squaw removes the bandages and gently 
drags and works on the baby's limbs and spine to 
make them as straight as possible. Then, in reband- 
aglng, care is always taken that the toes shall point 
straight forward. 


The woodsman walks with a springy knee action. 
There is a "give" at eveiy step, and in going down- 
hill the knees are bent a good deal, as they are when 
one carries a heavy burden. It is said of the Indian 
"he does not walk, he glides.'* No Indian glides 
in boots, but put him in moccasins and the word 
does express his silent, rhythmical, tireless, sure- 
footed progress, an admirable example of precision 
of movement and economy of effort. A white man 
acquires somewhat the same glide after getting used 
to moccasins, and especially after some experience 
on snowshoes, which compel him to walk with toes 
pointed straight ahead or a little inward. 

Over-Strain. — ^When carrying a pack on your 
back, do not over-exert yourself. Halt whenever 
your breathing is very labored or exertion becomes 
painful. Nobody who understands horses would 
think of driving them ahead when they show signs 
of distress, and there is quite as much common sense 
in treating yourself with the same consideration, if 
you want to travel far. Rig your pack at the start 
so it can be flung off whenever you sit down for a 
moment's rest; it pays. But don't halt more than 
three to five minutes. Long halts eat up daylight; 
they stiffen the muscles; and they cause chills and 
colds. Over-exertion is particularly disastrous in 
mountain climbing. 

Not only in marching but in other labors, go 
steadily but moderately. Do not chop to the point 
of exhaustion, nor strain yourself in lifting or carry- 
ing. A feat of "showing off" is poor compensation 
for a lame back. 

One who is unused to long marches may get along 
pretty well the first day, but on the second morning 
it will seem as if he could not drag one foot after 
the other. This is the time when the above remarks 
<lo not apply ; for if one uses the gad and goes ahead 
he will soon limber up. But by the morning of 
the third day it is likely that complications will 
have set in. The novice by this time is worn, not 
only from unaccustomed exertion, but from loss of 


sleep — for few men sleep well the first night or 
two in the open. He is probably constipated from 
change of diet, and from drinking too much on the 
march. More serious still, he probably has sore 
feet. This latter ailment is not so much due to his 
feet being tender at the start as from his not having 
taken proper care of them. Aside from the down- 
right necessity of seeing that one's shoes and stock- 
ings fit well, and that the shoes are well broken 
in before starting, there are certain rules of pedes- 
trian hygiene that should be observed from the word 

Care of the Feet. — "An ounce of prevention 
is worth a pound of cure." I have already said 
a good deal about the choice of shoes and stockings 
(Vol. L, Chapter IX). Let me add another rea- 
son for wearing heavy but soft woolen socks when 
you are in the wilderness, regardless of season ; they 
ventilate the shoes. You probably will be wearing 
rather heavy shoes coated with some waterproofing 
preparation. The pores of the leather are filled so 
that no air can get through. But one's feet can- 
not be kept in good condition if the shoes are not 
ventilated somehow. Thick socks do it in this way: 
when your weight is thrown on one foot as in step- 
ping forward, the air that was confined in the 
meshes of the fabric is forced out through the shoe 
tops (but not through a high laced boot) ; then, 
when the pressure is relieved, fresh air is sucked back 
to fill the partial vacuum. Thin socks, especially 
cotton ones, become saturated with perspiration, and 
little or no air can get into them at all: then the 
feet have their pores clogged and they become ten- 
der. Thin hose also admit sand and dirt more read- 
ily than thick ones. 

One's feet can be toughened and hardened before 
starting on a hike by soaking them for some time, 
the night before, in a solution of alcohol and salt, 
or in one made by dissolving a tablespoonful of 
tannic acid in a wash-bowl of cold water. (Amer' 
ican Red Cross Text-Book on First Aid.) A little 
alum m water mav be substituted. 


Every morning before starting on a hike, rub 
some talcum powder over the feet and dust some 
inside your shoes. One's underw^ear should also 
be dusted with it at all places where the garments 
are likely to chafe. If you have no talcum, then 
rub the feet with vaseJine, melted tallow from a 
candle, or oil. Soap often is used for the purpose, 
but some soaps contain too much free alkali, w^hich 
is bad for the skin; Castile or Ivory soap is not 

But the main thing is to keep the feet clean. 
Wash them well every evening, preferably in hot 
salted water. If they are strained, swollen, or 
hot, the best treatment is to rub them with alcohol 
or whiskey, but hot salted water and massage will 
do very well. Keep the nails cut close and square. 

If the feet are washed in the morniag, or when 
resting on the march, it should be done briskly, 
not by soaking, and they should be thoroughly dried, 
otherwise they will be tender. In winter, if water 
is hard to get, the feet may be cleansed by rubbing 
them with snow. 

Should you step in water over your shoe-tops, or 
in any other way get the feet sopping wet, stop as 
soon as you can and wring out the hose ; do not 
"walk them dry," for that makes the skin tender. 

As soon as a blister is discovered, it should be 
opened i?i the right way, so that the skin may not 
be rubbed off and infection ensue. Sterilize a needle 
by holding it in the flame of a match. When it 
has cooled, prick the blister, not directly, but through 
the skin at the side, and gently press out the fluid 
till the blister is flat. Then put a light pledget of 
absorbent cotton on it, or a little square of sterilized 
gauze, and over this strap a bit of adhesive plaster, 
A second similar strap may be stuck on top of this 
in the opposite direction. Such a dressing keeps the 
skin from rubbing off, prevents infection, and en- 
ables you to travel on without inconvenience. A 
raw blister is treated in the same way, but a little 
Resinol or carbolized vaseline smeared on it with 

ijlOW TO WALK 141 

a clean splinter, before the pad Is applied, will help 
it to heal. 

When walking long distances, it is a wise plan to 
change feet with one's socks at noon. 

Cramps in the leg muscles are best treated by- 

Thirst. — In warm weather, one's first few days 
on the march will bring an inordinate thirst, w^hich 
is not caused by the stomach's demand for water, 
but by a fever of the palate. This may be relieved 
somewhat by chewing a green leaf, or by carrying 
a smooth, non-absorbent pebble in the mouth; but 
a much Detter thirst-quencher is to suck a prune 
or carry a bit of raw onion in the mouth. One 
can go a long time without drinking if he has an 
onion with him; this also helps to prevent his lips 
from cracking in alkali dust. 

Drink as often as you please, but only a sup or 
two at a time. Sip slowly, so as not to chill the 
stomach. If one drinks till he no longer feels 
thirst, he is likely to suffer first from "cotton 
mouth," and then from the cramp of acute indi- 

Never try to satisfy thirst by swallowing snow 
or ice; melt the snow first by holding it In the 
mouth. If no fire can be had. It Is best to eat a 
cracker or something with It, as snow water is bad on 
an empty stomach. 

To Avoid Chill. — ^Wear a woolen undershirt 
(woolen gauze for summer). Do not sit around 
when overheated and damp from perspiration, un- 
less you have a sweater or extra wrap of some sort 
to put on. Do the same when reaching the top 
of a mountain, or other place exposed freely to 
the wind. But do not muffle up on the march. 

Mountain Climbing. — The city man's gait, to 
which I have already referred, is peculiarly ex- 
hausting In mountain-climbing. He Is accustomed 
tc spring from the toe of the lower foot, in going 
uphill. That throws nearly the whole weight of 
the body upon the muscles of the calf of the ler;. 


a misadjustment of strain that would soon wear 
out even a native mountaineer. The latter walks 
uphill with a woodsman's gait, planting the whole 
foot on the ground, and swinging or rolling the 
hip at each stride, thus not onlv gaining an inch or 
two in his pace, but distributing the strain between 
several groups of muscles. When going downhill, 
bend the knees considerably so that the leg forms a 
sprmg to land on at each stride. 

In Dent's iVlountaineering are given some useful 
hints to climbers that I take the liberty of con- 
densing here : 

In walking up a steep hilt, go slowly and steadily. 
If you cannot talk v^tho-ut catching your breath, it 
is a sure sign that you are going too fast. 

If you slip on a loose stone, do not try to recover 
your lost ground quickly, but slip away until your 
foot is checked a few inches below. Thus keep up 
the rhythm of your footfall. 

On an average mountain, where the slope is toler- 
ably uniform, and the climber has no long journey 
before him, an ascent of 1,000 ft. in an hour is quick 
walking. In beginning a long cHmb, 800 ft. of verti- 
cal ascent in an hour is good work. On a good 
trail, for a moderate distance, 1,500 ft. an hour is 
quick walking. Under favorable conditions a good 
climber can ascend from a height of 7.000 ft. to 
14,000 ft. in seven hours; at greater altitudes the pace 
will slacken. 

In descending a mountain, the pace, however slow, 
should be continuous. To remain stationary, even 
for a moment, not only necessitates a fresh start, but 
demands an adjustment of balance which implies an 
unnecessary outlay of muscular effort. To descend 
rapidly and safely without exertion, a certain loose- 
ness of joints should be cultivated. On a steep slope 
one should descend sideways, so that the wholp 
length of the foot can be planted fairly on any hold 
that offers. 

A man will never sprain his ankle when he expects 
to do so at any moment, nor will he be likely to slip 
if he is always prepared to fall. 

A Hunter's Pack. — Returning to the subject 
of outfitting: I have, so far, considered only summer 
travel afoot. There are many who go out in the 



fall of the year, hunters especially, and who may 
wish to make side trips on their own hook. Cap- 
tain Whelen has stated their case convincingly: 

"There is much to be said in favor of back-pack- 
ing. It increases many fold that sense of absolute 
freedom which is one of the fundamental reasons 
why men try to escape from civilization for a time. 
There is none of that trouble and worry that we all 
experience when we have the responsibility of a 
pack-train. I admit that back-packing, especially in 
a mountainous country, is downright hard work; but 
it's work worthy of a man; and once you get into 
a game country, you have very much less work than 
has he who must be continually watching and caring 
for a band of horses. Moreover, the back-packer 
usually has better success. He drops into a new 
country quietly and unseen. There is none of that 
clatter of hoofs, jingle of horse-bells, and noise of 
chopping. Before the game comes to know that 
there is a human being in the CQuntry, he has had 
his pick. . . . 

The problem of transportation on a western big- 
game hunt is a constant one. The country is open, 
and one locality soon becomes hunted out. The 
reports of the rifles, the sound of axes, and the 
shouts as the horses are daily driven to camp, soon 
cause the game to leave for more healthful country. 
Hence camp must be moved from ten to twenty 
miles every three or four days. It has always 
seemed that one could hunt longer in one locality, 
and make these short journeys more easily, if he 
could forsake the pack-train for the back -pack. The 
latter method is a necessity when one wants to hunt 
a country inaccessible to horses. On some of my 
most successful hunts, from the standpoints both of 
recreation and of heads, I have hired a packer to 
take me in and bring me out, but in the meantime 
have carried my entire hunting where I would." 

We may add that back-packing is the cheapest 
possible way to spend one's vacation in the wilder- 

The man who goes out alone for a week or so 
in the fall of the year, or at an altitude where the 
nights always are cold, should be fit to carry on his 
back from 40 to 50 pounds at the outset — of course 
the pack lightens as he consumes rations. I am not 


including weight of gun, cleaning implements, and 
ammunition. He should wear woolen underwear 
of medium weight, thick and soft woolen socks, 
army overshirt, kersey or moleskin trousers, leather 
belt with pockets (not loops) for clips or loose 
cartridges, hunting shoes of medium height for ord- 
inary use, felt hat, and, at times, buckskin gloves. 
In his pack there would be a spare suit of under- 
wear and hose, a cruiser or ''stag" shirt of best 
Mackinaw, moccasins or leather-topped rubbers, and 
German socks. In pockets and on the belt he would 
carry the same articles mentioned in my summei* 
hiking list. 

A mere shelter cloth is too breezy for this sea- 
son (there will be no opportunity to build a thatched 
camp, as the hunter will be on the move from day to 
day). He needs a half-pyramid tent, say of the 
Royce pattern (Vol. I., pp. 85-91) but somewhat 
smaller, and weighing not over 4 pounds. 

Bedding is the problem ; a man carrying his all 
upon his back, in cold weather, must study com- 
pactness as well as lightness of outfit. Here the 
points are in favor of sleeping-bag vs. blankets, be- 
cause, for a given insulation against cold and 
draughts, it may be so made as to save bulk as well 
as weight. For a pedestrian it need not be so roomy 
as the standard ones, especially at the foot end. 
Better design one to suit yourself, and have an out- 
fitter make it up to order, if you have no skill with 
the needle. An inner bag of woolen blanketing, an 
outer one of knotted wool batting, and a separate 
cover of cravenetted khaki or Tanalite — the weight 
need not be over 8 pounds complete. Your camp- 
fire will do the rest. A browse bag is dispensed 
with, for you will carry an axe and can cut small 
logs to hold in place a deep layer of such soft stuff 
as the location affords. 

The short axe may be of Hudson Bay or Dam- 
ascus pattern. There should be a small mill file to 
keep it in order, besides the whetstone. 

The ration list is based on. the assumption that tha 



hunter's rifle will supply him, after the first day 
or two, with at least a pound of fresh meat a day. 
If it does not, go elsewhere. There are plenty of 
good ways to cook without boiling, stewing, or 
loasting in an oven (see Vol. I.), which are pro- 
cesses that require vessels too bulky for a foot travel- 
er to bother with. 

Either the Whelen pack sack or a large Duluth 
one will carry the whole outfit. Both have the ad- 
vantage that they can be drawn up to smaller dimen- 
sions as the pack decreases in size, or for carrying 
the day's supplies when most of the outfit is cached 
at or near camp. 

The following outfit is complete, save for gun, 
ammunition and cleaning implements. For a long- 
er trip than one week, a reserve of provisions can 
be cached at some central point in the hunting dis- 


bs. oz 

Pack sack, with tump strap 2 12 

Tent , 4 

Sleeping-bag 8 

Pillow bag* 3 

Rubber cape* 1 5 

Mackinaw stag shirt 1 8 

Spare underwear, 1 suit 1 8 

Spare socks, 2 pairs 5 

Moccasins 1 

German socka 12 

Axe and muzzle 1 12 

Cooking kit, dish towel, tin cup* 2 2 

Cheese cloth 2 

Mill file, 6 in 2 

Whetstone* = 2 

Pliers* 4 

Wallet, fitted* 6 

Twine* 2 

Toilet articles* 6 

Talcum powder* 2 

Toilet paper* 1 

First aid kit* . ._ 5 

Spare matches, in tin 6 

Alpina folding lantern 8 

Candles, ^ doz ' ^ 


Emergency ration 8 

Tobacco, in wpf. bag 8 

Spare pipe 3 

Total pack without provisions . .28 12 

One Week's Rations (not including fresh meat) 

Flour 4 

Baking powder 4 

Meal, cereal 1 8 

Milk powder 8 

Butter 8 

Bacon 2 

Egg powder 8 

Raisins 8 

Dried apricots, prunes 1 

Sugar 1 

Chocolate 12 

Coffee .o 8 

Tea ... 2 

Salt 4 

13 6 
Provision bags, etc 10 


Pack complete. .42 12 

The articles starred (*) are same as in summer 
hiking list already given. 

Moccasins are to be large enough to fit over the 
German socks. This foot-gear is used in still hunt- 
ing in dry weather, and on cold nights. The camp- 
er sleeps, when it is frosty, in fresh underwear and 
socks, army shirt (dried before the fire after the 
day's use), trousers, stag shirt, neckerchief rigged as 
hood, German socks, and moccasins. When he has 
tc get up to replenish the fire, or in case of any 
alarm, he springs from his bed attired cap-a-pie. 

Many a time I have gone for a week's hunt, 
high up In the mountains, in bleak November, with 
much less outfit than is here listed. My native 
companions went even lighter than I. Often they 
slept out on the mountainside without shelter or 


blanket, when the winter fog coated every twig in 
the forest with rime, and frost sprang up from the 
giound in feathery forms three or four inches high. 
We grinned at all that, and fancied that we were 
playing the game like men. So we w^ere, but not 
like sensible men. We were sapping our vitality. 
Had we gone fixed to be well fed by day, warm and 
dry at night, and clean enough not to have smelt 
like a monkey's nest, we would have been playing 
a better game. A -loo, it is gone — and 1 am done. 

Going Alone. — I have given a good deal of space 
to the subject of outfitting for single-handed cruis- 
ing in the w^ilderness, because, as I have said, it is 
a difficult art, and anyone w^ho masters it can easily 
fit up a company kit for two or more. But why 
go alone? To the multitude, whether city or coun- 
try bred, the bare idea of faring alone in the w^ilds^ 
for days or weeks at a time is eerie and fantastic: 
it makes their flesh creep. He w^ho does so is certain- 
ly an eccentric, probably a misanthrope, possibly a 
fugitive from justice, or, likely enough, some moon- 
struck fellow whom the authorities would do well 
to follow up and watch. 

But many a seasoned woodsman can avow that 
some of the most satisfying, if not the happiest, per- 
iods of his I'fe have been spent far out of sight and 
suggestion of his fellow men. 

From a practical standpoint there are compen- 
sations in cruising the woods and streams alone, and 
even in camping without human fellowship. You 
get the most out of the least kit. It simplifies the 
whole business of camp routine. It would be pig- 
gish, for example, for two men to eat out of the 
same dish ; there must be three at least, one to coolc 
in and two for serving the food ; but for one man 
to eat from, his own frying-pan is ncrt only cleanly 
but a sensible thing to do. It keeps the food hotter 
than if transferred to a cold plate, and saves w^ash- 
ing an extra dish, an economy of effort that is the 
most admirable of all efficiencies! 

The problem of cuisine is reduced to its lowest 


terms. You cook what you like, and nothing else; 
you prepare what you need, and not one dumpling 
more. It is done precisely to your own taste — 
there is a world of gustatory satisfaction in that. 
You bake a corn pone,y let us say, leaving the frying- 
pan clean of grease. You cut your venison (the 
flesh of all game is venison) into cubes and broil 
these on a sharpened stick, one at a time, just as 
you eat them, which is the best and daintiest cook- 
ing process in the world. Your coffee, settled by 
a dash of cold water, is drunk from the same cup 
you brewed it in. 

Then comes the cleaning up. No more bugaboo 
of dishwashing, which all men so cordially despise. 
You give pan and pannikin a rinse and a wipe, jab 
your knife into the ground and draw it through some 
fresh leaves, chuck the broiling-stick into the fire, 
and — voila, the thing is done, thoroughly and 
neatly done, without rising from your seat! 

So with other camp chores, from pitching the 
miniature tent to packing up for the march: every- 
thing is simplified, and time and effort are saved, 

From a selfish standpoint, the solitary camper 
revels m absolute freedom. Any time, anywhere, 
he can do as he pleases. There is no anxiety as to 
whether his mates are having a good time, no obli- 
gation of deference to their wishes. Selfish? Yes; 
but, per contra, when one is alone he is boring no- 
body, elbowing nobody, treading on nobody's toes. 
He is neither chiding nor giving unasked advice. 
Undeniably he is minding his own business — a virtue 
to cover multitudes of sins. 

A companion, however light-footed he may be> 
adds fourfold to the risk of disturbing the shy na- 
tives of the wild. By yourself you can sit motion- 
less and mutely watchful, but where two are side 
by side it is neither polite nor endurable to pass 
an hour without saying a word. Lonesome? Nay 
indeed. Whoever has an eye for Nature is never 
less alone than when he is by himself. Should a 
strain of poetic temperament be wedded to one*s 


habit of observing, then it is more than ever urgent ' 
I that he should be undisturbed; for in another's 

"Imagination flutters feeble wings." 

Solitude has its finer side. The saints of old, 
when seeking to cleanse themselves from taint of 
worldliness and get closer to the source of prophecy, 
went singly into the desert and bided there alone. 
So now our lone adventurer, unsaintly as he may 
have been among men, experiences an exaltation, 
finds healing and encouragement in wilderness life. 

When tvvilight falls, and shadows merge in dark- 
ness, the single-handed camper muses before the fire 
that comforts his bivouac and listens to the low, 
sweet voices of the night, which never are heard 
in full harmony save by those who sit silent and 

Then comes the time of padded feet. Stealthy 
now, and mute, are the creatures that move in the 
forest. Our woodsman, knowing the ways of the 
beasts, regards them not, but dreams before the 
leaping flames like any Parsee worshipping the fire. 

Weird shapes appear in the glowing coals. Elves 
dance in the halo where night and radiance mingle. 

Hark to Titania! 

"Out of this "wood do not desire to go: 
Thou shalt remain here, whether thou wilt .or no. 
I am a spirit of no common rate; 
The summer still doth tend upon my state; 
And I do love thee/' 

Ah, precious even the ass's noil. If by that masque 
one shall enter the fairy realm! 



The first European settlers in this country were 
ignorant of the ways of the wilderness. Some of 
them had been old campaigners in civilized lands, 
but they did not know the resources of American 
forests, nor how to utilize them. The consequence 
was that many starved in a land of plenty. The 
survivors learned to pocket their pride and learn 
from the natives, who, however contemptible they 
m.ight seem in other respects, were past masters 
of the art of going "light but right." An almost 
naked savage could start out alone and cross from 
the Atlantic to the Mississippi, without buying or 
begging from anybody, and without robbing, unless 
from other motives than hunger. This was not 
merely due to the abundance of game. There were 
large tracts of the wilderness where game was scarce, 
or where it was unsafe to hunt. The Indian knew 
the edible plants of the forest, and how to extract 
good food from roots that were rank or poisonous in 
their natural state; but he could not depend wholly 
upon such fortuitous findings. His mainstay on 
long journeys was a small bag of parched and pul- 
verized maize, a spoonful of which, stirred in water, 
and swallowed at a draught, sufficed him for a meal 
when nature's storehouse failed. 

Pinole. — All of our early chroniclers praised this 
parched meal as the most nourishing food known. 
In New England it went by the name of "nocake," 
a corruption of the Indian word nookik. William 
Wood, who, in 1634, wrote the first topographical 
account of the Massachusetts colony, says of nocake 




that "It is Indian corn parched in the hot ashes, the 
ashes being sifted from it; it is afterwards beaten 
to powder and put into a long leatherne bag trussed 
at the Indian's backe like a knapsacke, out of which 
they take three spoonsful a day." Roger Williams, 
the founder of Rhode Island, said that a spoonful 
of nocake mixed with water made him "many a 
good meal." Roger did not affirm, however, that it 
made him a square meal, nor did he mention the 
size of his spoon. 

In Virginia this preparation was known by another 
Indian name, "rockahominy" (which is not, as ouf 
dictionaries assume, a sjmonym for plain hominy, 
but a quite different thing). That most enter- 
taining of our early woodcraftsmen. Colonel Byrd 
of Westover, who ran the dividing line between 
Virginia and North Carolina in 1728-29, speaks of it 
as follows: 

"Rockahominy is nothing but Indian corn parched 
without burning, and reduced to Powder. The Fire 
drives out all the Watery Parts of the Corn, leaving 
the Strength of it behind, and this being very dry, 
becomes much lighter for carriage and less liable to 
be Spoilt by the Moist Air. Thus half a Dozen 
Pounds of this Sprightful Bread will sustain a Man 
for as many Months, provided he husband it well, 
and always spare it when he meets with Venison, 
which, as I said before, may be Safely eaten without 
any Bread at all. By what I have said, a Man needs 
not encumber himself with more .than 8 or 10 Pounds 
of Provision, tho' he continue half a year in the 
Woods. These and his Gun will support him very 
well during the time, without the least danger of 
keeping one Single Fast." 

The Moravian missionary Heckewelder, in his 
History^ Mariners and Customs of the Indian 
Nations J describes how the Lenni Lenape, or Dela- 
wares, prepared and used this emergency food: 

"Their Psindamooan or Tassmanane, as they call it, 
is the most nourishing and durable food made out of 
the Indian corn. The blue sweetish kind is the grain 
which they prefer for that purpose. They parch it 
in c^an hot ashes, until it bursts;, it is then sifted 


and cleaned, and pounded in a mortar into a kind of 
flour, and when they wish to make it very good, they 
mix some sugar [i.e., maple sugar] with it. When 
wanted for use, they take about a tablespoonful of 
this flour in their mouths, then stooping to the river 
or brook, drink water to it. If, however, they have 
a cup or other small vessel at hand, they put the 
flour in it and mix it with water, in the proportion 
of one tablespoonful to a pint. At their camps they 
will put a small quantity in a kettle with water and 
let it boil down, and they will have a thick pottage. 
With this food the traveler and warrior will set out 
on long journeys and expeditions, and as a little of 
it will serve them, for a day, they have not a heavy 
load of provisions tp carry. Persons who are un- 
acquainted with this' diet ought to be careful not to 
take too much at a time, and not to suffer themselves 
to be tempted too far by its flavor; more than one 
or two spoonfuls, at most, at any one time or at one 
meal is dangerous; for it is apt to swell in the 
stomach or bowels, as when heated over a fire." 

The best of our border hunters and warriors, 
such as Boone and Kenton and Crockett, relied a 
good deal upon this Indian dietary when starting 
on their long hunts, or when undertaking forced 
marches more formidable than any that regular 
troops could have withstood. So did Lewis and 
Clark on their ever-memorable expedition across the 
unknown West. Modern explorers who do their 
outfitting in London or New York, and who think 
it needful to command a small army of porters and 
gun-bearers when they go into savage lands, might 
do worse than read the simple annals of that trip 
by Lewis and Clark, if they care to learn what 
real pioneering was. 

It is to be understood, of course, that the parched 
and pulverized maize was used mainly or solely as 
an emergency food, when no meat was to be had. 
Ordinarily the hunters of that day, white and red, 
when they were away from settlements or trading 
posts, lived on ''meat straight," helped out with 
nuts, roots, wild salads, and berries. Thus did 
Boone, the greater part of two years, on his first ex- 
pedition to Kentucky; and so did the trappers of 


the far West in the days of Jim Bridger and Kit 

Powdered parched corn Is still the standby of na- 
tive travelers in the wilds of Spanish America, and it 
is sometimes used by those hardy mountaineers, "our 
contemporary ancestors," in the Southern Appalach- 
ians. One of my camp-mates in the Great Smoky 
Mountains expressed to me his surprise that any one) 
should be ignorant of so valuable a resource of the 
hunter's life. He claimed that no other food was 
so ''good for a man's wind" in mountain climbing. 

In some parts of the South and West the pulver- 
ized parched corn is called "coal flour." The Ind- 
ians of Louisiana gave it the name of gofio. In 
Mexico it is known as pinole. (Spanish pronunci- 
ation, />f ^-no-lay; English, pie-Tzo-lee.) 

Some years ago Mr. T. S. Van Dyke, author cf( 
The Still Hunter and other excellent works on field 
sports, published a very practical article on emerg- 
ency rations in a weekly paper, from which, as it 
is now buried where few can consult it, I take the 
liberty of making the following quotation : 

"La comida del desierfo, the food of the desert, or 
pinole, as it is generally called, knocks the hind sights 
off all American condensed foods. It is the only 
form in which you can carry an equal weight and 
bulk of nutriment on which alone one can, if neces-l 
sarry, live continuously for weeks, and even months, 
Mnthout any disorder of stomach or bowels. . . . 
The principle of pinole is very simple. If you should 
eat a breakfast of corn-meal mush alone, and start 
out for^a hard tramp, you will feel hungry in an hour 
or two, though at the table the dewrinkling of your 
abdomen may have reached the hurting point. But ' 
if, instead of distending the meal so much with water 
and heat, you had simply mixed it in cold v^ter and 
drunk it, you could have taken down three times 
the quantity in one-tenth of the time. You would 
not feel the difference at your waistband, but you 
would feel it mightily in your legs, especially if you 
have a heavy rifle on your back. It works a little 
on the principle of dried apples, though it is quite 
an improvement. There is no danger of explosion.; 
it swells to suit the demand, and not too suddenly 

Suppose, now, instead of raw corn-meal, we make 


it not only drinkable but positively good. This is 
easily done by parching- to a very light broyn before 
grinding, and grinding just fine enough to mix so as 
to be drinkable, but not pasty, as flour would be. 
Good wheat is as good as corn, and perhaps better, 
while the mixture is very good. Common rolled 
oats browned in a pan in the oven and run through 
a spice mill is as good and easy to make it out of 
as anything. A coffee mill may do if it will set fine 
enough. Ten per cent, of popped corn ground in 
with it will improve the flavor so much that your 
children will get away with it all if you don't hide 
it. Wheat and corn are hard to grind, bu4: the small 
Enterprise spice mill will do it- You may also mix 
some ground chocolate with it for flavor, which, 
with popped corn, makes it very fine . . . Indi- 
gestible? Your granny's nightcap! . . You must 
remember that it is "werry fillin' for the price," and 
go slow with it until you have found your co- 
efficient. . . . 

Now for the application. The Mexican rover of 
the desert will tie a small sack of pinole behind his 
saddle and start for a trip of several days. It is the 
lightest of food, and in the most portable shape, 
sandproof, bug and fly proof, and everything. 
Wherever he finds water he stirs a few ounces in a 
cup (I never weighed it, "but four seem about enough 
at a time for an ordinary man), drinks it in five 
seconds, and is fed for five or six hours. If he has 
jerky, he chews that as he jogs along, but if he has 
not he will go through the longest trip and come 
out strong and well on pinole alone." — Shooting and 
Fishing, Vol. xx, p. 248. 

When preparing pinole for mountaineering trips, 
I 'jsed to pulverize the parched corn in a hominy 
mortar, which is nothing but a three-foot cut off of 
.a two-foot log, with a cavity chiseled out in the 
top, and a wooden pestle shod with iron. The 
hole is of smaller diameter at the bottom than at the 
top, so that each blow of the pestle throws most of 
the corn upward, and thus it is evenly powdered. 
Two heaping tablespoonfuls was the usual "sup," 
and, if I had nothing else, I took it frequently dur- 
ing the day. With a handful of raisins, or a chunk 
of sweet chocolate or maple sugar, it made a square 


But what is the actual food value of this Indian 
invention ? I take the following figures from a bul- 
letin of the Department of Agriculture on Food 
Value of Corn and Corn ProductSj by Dr. Charles 
D. Woods (Washington, 1907): 


Kind of material Protein Fat Carbo- Mineral value 

hydrates matter per 
% % % % Calories 

Hominy, boiled.... 2.2 0.2 17.8 0.5 380 

Hulled corn 2.3 0.9 22.2 0.5 490 

Indian pudding- 

(corn mush) .... 5.5 4-8 27.5 1.5 815 

Hoecake 4.0 0.6 40.2 2.4 885 

Boston brown bread 6.3 2.1 45.8 1.9 1,110 

Johnnycake 7.^ 2.2 57.7 2.9 1,385 

Granulated cornmeal 9.2 1.9 75.4 1.0 1,655 
Corn br'kfast foods, 

flaked (part cook'd 

^at factory) 9.6 1.1 7^.Z 0.7 1,680 

Corn br'kfast foods, 

flaked and parched 

(ready to eat) ..10.1 1.8 78.4 2.4 1,735 

Popped corn 10.7 5.0 78.7 1.3 1,880 

Parched corn 11.5 8.4 72.3 2.6 1,915 

Wheat "bread (for 

comparison) 9.2 1.3 53.1 1.1 1,205 

The remaining percentages are water. 

Pulverized parched corn owes its "carrying 
power" not only to its relatively high nutritive value, 
as shown in this table, but largely to the fact that, 
when drunk with water instead of cooked, it swelk 
in the stomach and gives it a comfortable feeling of 
fullness. That this is not an imaginary gain will 
be shown later in this chapter. 

Jerked Venison. — The *'jerky" referred to by 
Mr. Van Dyke is jerked meat, usually venison: that 
is to say, lean meat cut in strips and dried over a 
slow fire or in the sun. It is very different from 
our commercial dried beef, less salty, more nourish- 
ing and appetizing, and one can subsist comfortably 
on it for some time with no other foodstuff at all. 
The process of jerking venison is described in VoL 
I (pp. 277-280). 


Pemmican. — The staple commissary supply of 
arctic travelers, and of hunters and traders in the 
far Northwest, is pemmican. This is not so palat- 
able as jerky, at least when carelessly prepared; 
but it contains more nutriment, in a given bulk, 
and is better suited for cold climates, on account of 
the fat mixed with it. 

The old-time Hudson Bay pemmican was made 
from buffalo meat, in the following manner: first 
a sufficient number of bags, about 2x1^ feet, were 
made from the hides of old bulls that were unfit 
for robes. The lean meat was then cut into thin 
strips, as for jerky, and dried in the sun for two or 
three days, or over a fire, until it was hard and 
brittle. It was then pounded to a powder between 
two stones, or by a flail, on a sort of hide threshing- 
floor with the edges pegged up. The fat and mar- 
row were then melted and mixed with the powdered 
lean meat to a paste; or, the bags were filled with 
the lean and then the fat was run in on top. After 
this the mass was well rammed down, and the bags 
were sewed up tight. No salt was used ; but the 
pemmican thus prepared would keep sweet for years 
in the cool climate of the North. A piece as large 
as one's fist, when soaked and cooked, would make 
a meal for two men. When there was flour in the 
outfit, the usual allowance of pemmican was i ^ to 
I ^2 pounds a day per man, with one pound of flour 
added. This was for men performing the hardest 
labor, and whose appetites were enormous. Service 
berries were sometimes added. "Officers' pem- 
mican" was made from buffalo humps and marrow. 
Pemmican nowadaj^s is made from beef. Bleas- 
dell Cameron gives the following details: A beef 
dressing 698 pounds yields 47 pounds of first-class 
pemmican, 47 pounds of second-class pemmican^ 
and 23 pounds of dried meat, including tongues, a 
total of 117 pounds, dried. The total nutritive 
strength is thus reduced in weight to one-sixth that 
of the fresh beef. Such pemmican, at the time he 
wrote, cost the Canadian government about forty 


cents a pound, equivalent to six pounds of fresh 

Pemmican is sometimes eaten raw, sometimes 
boiled with flour into a thick soup or porridge 
called robiboo, or, mixed with flour and water and 
fried like sausage, it is kno^vn as rascho. The pem- 
mican made nowadays for arctic expeditions is pre- 
pared from the round of beef cut into strips and 
kiln-dried until friable, then ground fine and mixed 
with beef suet, a little sugar, and a few currants. 
It is compressed into cakes, and then packed so as 
to exclude moisture. It can be bought ready-made 
in New York, but at an enormous price when sold 
in small quantity, and the tins add considerably to 
the weight. If one has home facilities he can make 
it himself. Leave out the sugar, which makes meat 
unpalatable to most men. The sugar item should be 
separate in the ration. 

Desiccated meat is disagreeable, and not nearly 
so nutritious as pemmican, which is already con- 
centrated as much as meat should be, and has the ad- 
vantage of containing a liberal amount of fat. 

Army Emergency Rations. — In 1870 there 
was issued to every German soldier a queer, yellow, 
sausage-shaped contrivance that held within its paper 
wrapper what looked and felt like a short stick of 
dynamite. No, it was not a bomb nor a hand, 
grenade. • It was just a pound of compressed dry 
pea soup. This was guaranteed to support a man's 
strength for one daj^ without any other aliment 
whatever. The soldier was ordered to keep this 
roll of soup about him at all times, and never to 
use it ^intil there was no other food to be had. The 
offid'di name of the thing was erbswurst (pro- 
noMnced airbs-voorst) which means pea sausage. 
Within a few months it became famous as the 
"iron ration" of the Germans in the Franco-Prus- 
sian war. 

Our sportsmen over here are well acquainted 
with erbswurst, either in its original form or, at 
present, as an American "pea soup with bacon" done 


up in cartons. For many It is the last call to supper 
when they have had no dinner and see slight prospect 
of breakfast. Besides, it is the lazy man's prop on 
rainy days, and the standby of inexperienced cooks, 

Erbswurst is composed of pea meal mixed with a 
very little fat pork and some salt, so treated as to 
prevent decay, desiccated and compressed into rolls 
of various sizes. It is much the same thing as 
baked beans would be if they were dried and pow- 
dered, except that it tastes different and it contains 
much less fat. I understand that the original erbs- 
wurst, as prepared by its inventor, Grunberg, in- 
cluded a goodly proportion of fat; but the article 
of commerce that appeared later had so little of 
this valuable component (by analysis only 3.08%) 
that you could scarce detect it. 

Nobody can spoil erbswurst in the cooking, unless 
he goes away and lets it burn. All you have to do is 
to start a quart of water boiling, tear off the cover 
from a quarter-pound roll of this ''dynamite soup," 
crumble the stuff finely into the water with your fin- 
gers, and boil for fifteen or twenty minutes, stirring; 
a few times to avoid lumps. Then let the mess 
cool, and go to it. You may make it thin as a soup 
or thick as a porridge, or fry it after mixing with a 
little water, granting you have grease to fry with. 

It never spoils, never gets any *'punkier" than it 
was at the beginning. The stick of erbswurst that 
you left undetected last year in the seventh pocket 
of your hunting coat will be just as good when you 
discover it again this year. Mice won't gnaw it; 
bugs can't get at it; moisture can't get into it. I 
have used rolls that had lain so long in damp places 
that they were all moldy outside, yet the food 
within was neither worse nor better than before. 

A pound of erbswurst, costing from thirty-two to 
forty cents, Is about all a man can eat In three meals 
straight. Cheap enough, and compact enough, God 
wot! However, this little boon has a string at- 
tached. Erbswurst tastes pretty good to a hungry 
man In the woods as a hot noonday snack, now and 


then. It is not appetizing as a sole mainstay for 
supper on the same day. Next morning, supposing 
you have missed connections with camp, and have 
nothing but the rest of that erbswurst, you will 
down it amid storms and tempests of your own rais- 
ing. And thenceforth, no matter what fleshpots you 
may fall upon, you will taste ^'dynamite soup" for a 

In its native land, this iron ration lost its popu- 
larity and was thrown out of the German army. 
Over here, we benighted wights keep on using it, 
or its American similitude, in emergencies, simply 
because we know of no better substitute, or because 
it is the easiest thing of the kind to be found on the 
market. We all wish to discover a ready-made ra- 
tion as light and compact as erbswurst, as incor- 
ruptible and cheap, but one that would be fairly 
savory at the second and third eating, and polite 
to our insides (which "dynamite soup" is not). 

Now I am not about to offer a new invention, 
nor introduce some wonderful good grub that has 
lately arrived from abroad. Before the outbreak 
of the present war, I believe, every army had dis- 
carded all the emergency rations it had tried. And 
5^et all of them were searching for a better one. 
Which goes to prove that a satisfactory^ thing of this 
sort is most desirable, but the hardest thing in the 
world for a commissariat to find. We wilderness 
prowlers join heartily in praying that somebody 
will find it; for we, too, like the soldiery, may 
be cut of¥ from supplies, no telling when, and with 
the added dilemma, perhaps, of being lost and alone 
in the "big sticks." 

So it is quite worth while to review the best that 
has been done along this line, show wherein the most 
promising experiments have failed, and restate the 
problem anew — then let fresh inventive genius tackle 
it. And a few suggestions may not be out of place. 

Beginning again with erbswurst, as prototype of 
such foods; theoretically it is highly nutritious, 
though less fit for continuous use as a sole diet than 


baked beans, even though the latter were desiccated, 
Practically it soon palls on the palate, upsets the 
stomach, and, like any other food composed almost 
wholly of legumes, causes flatulent dyspepsia or 
other disorders of the digestive tract. 

The British army tried it, and Tommy Atkins 
let out a howl that reached from South Africa to 
London. The War Office replaced it with another 
German invention, Kopf's soup, which also had pea 
meal for its basis but had a higher content of fat 
(17.25%). This was superior in potential energy, 
but the after effects were similar to those of erbs- 
wurst. It was plain that an exclusive diet, if only 
for a day or two, of legumes and fat would soon 
put a man to the bad. England discarded the iron 
ration and placated Tommy with jam — a wise move, 
as we shall see. 

In 1900 a new kind of emergency ration was 
introduced in our own army. This was made up of 
eight ounces of a meat-and-cereal powder, four 
ounces of sweet chocolate, and some salt and pepper ; 
all put up in a tin can eight inches long and thin 
enough to slip easily into one's pocket. This pound 
of food was calculated to subsist a man in full 
strength and vigor for one day. Details of its 
preparation are here copied from official sources: 

"The chocolate component consists of equal 
weights of pure chocolate and pure sugar molded 
into cakes of one and one-third ounces each. Three 
of these go into the day's ration. 

"The bread and meat component consists of: 

"(i) Fresh lean beef free from visible fat and 
sinew, ground in a meat grinder and desiccated so 
as to contain five per cent or less of moisture, the 
heat never being allowed to cook it in the slightest 
degree. The dried product is then reduced to pow' 
der and carefully sifted through a fine-meshed sieve, 
the resulting flour being the meat component. 

"(2) Cooked kiln-dried wheat, the outer bran re- 
moved, is parched and then ground to a coarse pow- 
der. This yields the bread component. Sixteen 



parts of the meat, thirty-two parts of the bread, 
and one part of common salt, all by weight, are 
thoroughly mixed in such small quantities as to be 
-entirely homogeneous and compressed into four- 
ounce cakes. Three of these go into the day's ra- 
tion. The bread and meat may be eaten dry, or be 
stirred in cold water and eaten ; or one cake may be 
boiled for five minutes in three pints of water, and 
seasoned [as soup] ; or one cake may be boiled for five 
minutes in one pint of w^ater to make a thick porridge 
and be eaten hot or cold. When cold it may be 
f:liced, and, if fat is available, may be fried. Three- 
fourths of an ounce of salt and one gramme of pep- 
per are in the can for seasoning." 

At first glance it might seem that the bread and 
meat components of this ration were essentially the 
same as the pinole and jerked venison of our Ind- 
ians and white frontiersmen — and it is quite likely 
that the inventors had those primitive foods in 
mind, seeking only to condense them still further 
without impairing their famous nutritive values. 
Practically, however, there is little resemblance. 
Jerky retains much of the meat juice, which gives 
it its pleasant flavor. Desiccated meat contains no 
juice, and its taste is altogether different. Pul- 
verized, parched wheat is a sort of pinole, but in this 
case it was first cooked, then parched, and the flavor 
was inferior. 

Finally the meat powder and grain powder were 
mixed and sifted into a homogeneous mass, com- 
pressed, and sealed up in an air-tight tin. One need 
not even taste such a product to know that it could 
not possibly satisfy the palate like the old-time 

The emergency ration gave satisfaction for a time, 
but eventually there were many complaints that it 
was indigestible, or otherwise unwholesome. Scient- 
ists reported that it was lacking in nutrition. The 
troops did not like its taste, and their officers warned 
them to husband their hard bread and bacon as long 
as they could, since a very limited amount of either 


or both, taken with the emergency ration, made ft 
far more palatable. Another fault of this "near- 
food" was that the can that held it was so thick and 
heavy that it made the gross weight of the article 
almost as great as that of the regular haversack ra- 
tion, which cost much less and had a better taste. 

In 19 1 3 the Secretary of War ordered the dis- 
continuance of this emergency ration, notwithstand- 
ing that great quantities of it still w^ere in storage. 
The problem of getting up a better one was turned 
over to food experts of the Department of Agricul- 
ture. About a year later a new emergency ration 
was, I believe, adopted, composed of bean flour, lean 
meat, raisins, and a small percentage of wheat flour. 
This is said to be palatable and nutritious, but I do 
not know how well it may have stood the test of 

The Problem of an emergency ration is not 
merely one of condensing the utmost nutriment into 
the least bulk and weight. One cannot live on but- 
tei' or peanuts alone, however high their caloric 
value may be. The stuff must be digestible : it must 
neither nauseate nor clog the sj^stem. When a man 
is faint from hunger (and that is the only time he 
ever will need an emergency ration) his stomach 
must not be forced to any uncommon stunts. And 
so I hold that a half ration of palatable food that 
is readily assimilated does more good than a full 
quota of stuff that taxes a man's gastric strength or 
disorders his bowels. And there is a good deal 
to be said for mere palatability. Food that tastes 
bad is bad, for nobody can work well on it. 

Of course, an emergency ration is not intended to 
be used long at a time. It is not meant to inter- 
change with the regular reserve ration of hard bread, 
bacon, or preserved meat, dried vegetables, coffee, 
sugar, and salt, that soldiers carry on their persons 
during a campaign. TTie iron ration proper is a 
minimum bulk and weight of unspoilable food that 
is complete in itself, packed in a waterproof and 
insect-proof cover, and it is never to be opened save 


in extremity when reserve rations have run out and 
supply trains cannot connect with the troops. Yet 
this is the very time when men are likely to 
be exhausted and famished. It is the very time 
when their s^^stems demand food that tastes good and 
that assimilates easily. 

Again, an emergency ration should contain 
some component that digests rather slowly, or it soon 
will leave a feeling of emptiness in the stomach — it 
will not "stick to the ribs" like one that takes 
several hours to become assimilated. Moreover, the 
stomach craves bulk as well as nutriment — there 
should be something to swell up and distend it. 
This is important, for, if condensation be carried too 
far, it defeats its own purpose. If we could con- 
centrate a thousand calories of food energy into a 
single tablet, a man would not feel that he had eaten 
anything after taking it. 

Bread Substitutes. — The main difficulty in 
compounding a good emergency ration is in getting 
a concentrated substitute for bread. The Germans 
have experimented with flour or grits made from 
peanuts. It is claimed that a pound of peanut flour 
contains as much nutritive material as three pounds 
of beef or two of peas. It can be made into por^ 
ridge or into biscuits. Its flavor is pleasant in either 
a cooked or a raw state. Whether its nutrients are 
easily and completely utilized by the system has not, 
so far as I know, been proven. 

As for meal made from beans or peas, it is not 
easily digested, and it tends to putrify in the ali- 
mentary canal. (A method of desiccating baked 
beans is given in Vol. I, p. 368). 

Hardtack may be considered a proper component 
of an emergency ration, because it is a concentrated 
bread that does not spoil. The best way to use it, 
when facilities permit, is to break it up and add it 
to hot soup or coffee, or pour hot water over it, 
pepper and salt, and eat with bacon grease. 

Plasmon biscuit (see Vol. I., p. 192) are morf 
palatable than hardtack and more nutritious, but 


expensive. In appearance they resemble round Edu- 
cator crackers. Half a dozen of them, with a small 
cake of chocolate, make a satisfying lunch. Plasmon 
Itself is the proteid of milk in powdered form, con- 
taining 80% of pure protein. It may be used either 
dry or dissolved in water. When sprinkled dry over 
any kind of food, or cooked in with cereals, bread, 
soups, etc., it adds very much to the nutritive value 
without altering the flavor of the food. 

Various kinds of meat biscuits have been tried out 
most thoroughly by troops and travelers, but with- 
out satisfaction. Kipling said, ''compressed veget- 
ables and meat biscuits may be nourishing, but what 
Tommy Atkins needs is bulk in his inside." In 
this he was doing the vegetables injustice, for, when 
cooked, they do swell up and fill one's inside. 

CoijDENSED Soups. — Nearly all go-light outfits 
include a supply of compressed soups. Some of these 
are of good flavor, others are of w^hat Stewart Ed- 
ward White calls the ''dishwater brand." He 
recommends Knorr's pea, bean, lentil, rice, onion 
(none of the others), and particularly Maggi's 
green pea and lentil. Of bouillon capsules he says 
that "they serve to flavor hot water, and that is abouG' 
all." I agree with him throughout. Maggi's soups 
are packed in tin-foil before putting on the paper 
wrapper. This excludes moisture, but I have 
found that it will not keep out the industrious wee- 
vil. Condensed soups have their uses, chiefly as 
pick-me-ups; but they do not by any means contain 
enough nourishment to furnish a hungry man's meal. 
I mention them here only as a warning against put- 
ting confidence in them for any such purpose. 

Bouillon cubes, etc., are much worse, in this re- 
spect. Properly they are nothing but condiments or 
appetizers for healthy people and mild stimulants for 
the sick. Their actual food value has been deter- 
mined by the Bureau of Chemistry of the U. S. De- 
partment of Agriculture, which was led to investigate 
the matter because "these articles are erroneously be- 
lieved to be convenient forms of concentrated meat.'* 


nfen dlilerent brands of commercial bouillon cubes 
v,-ere analyzed, with the result that the best showed 
62% salt, 5.25% water and fat, 28% meat extract, 
4.7570 plant extract, and from this they ranged on 
down to the poorest, with 72^0 salt, 8.5% water and 
fat, 8.17% meat extract, 11.33% plant extract. The 
plant extract " is useful because of its flavoring prop- 
erties, but has slight, if any, nutritive value." As for 
the semi-solid meat extracts sold in jars, the chemist 
reported that they "are not concentrated beef. They 
are stimulants and flavoring adjuncts, and have only 
a slight food value, owing to the small amount of 
protein (muscle-building food) \vhich they contain." 

On the other hand, one can make for himself 
a real meat extract, in which much of the nourish- 
ment of beef or veal or venison is concentrated in 
the form of little cubes of a gluey consistency from 
which a strengthening soup can quickly be prepared. 

Take a leg of young beef, veal, or venison (old 
meat will not jelly easily). Pare off every bit of 
fat and place the lean meat In a large pot. Boil 
I it steadily and gently for seven or eight hours, until 
the meat is reduced to rags, skimming off, from time 
to time, the grease that arises. Then pour this 
strong broth into a large, wide stew-pan, place it 
over a moderate fire, and let it simmer gently until It 
comes to a thick jelh\ When It gets so thick that 
there may be danger of scorching It, place the vessel 
over boiling water, and stir It very frequently until, 
when cold, it will have the consistency of glue. 
Cut this substance Into small cubes and lay them 
singly where they can become thoroughly dry. Or, 
if 3'ou prefer, run the jelly Into sausage skins and tie 
up the ends. A cube or thick slice of this glaze, dis' 
solved In hot water, makes an excellent soup. A 
small piece allowed to melt In one's mouth is 
strengthening on the march. 

This is a very old recipe, being mentioned In 
Byrd's History of the Dividing Li?ie, and recom- 
mended along with rockahominy. The above can be 
rnade in camp, w^hen opportunity offers, thus laying 


in enough concentrated soup stock to last a month, 
which is quite convenient, as it takes at least half a 
day to make good soup from the raw materials, and 
these are not always at hand when most wanted. 

Fats. — In speaking of erbswurst I remarked on 
its deficiency in fat, which is an important component 
of field rations, especially in cold weather, since it is 
fuel for the body. Pemmican owes much of its 
efficiency to the large percentage of fat. Captain 
Scott had the pemmican for his antarctic expedi- 
tion made with 50% lard, which is pure fat. Such 
a mixture would nauseate many a man, but nearly 
everybody likes butter, which is the next most con- 
centrated form of fat. The best field luncheon for 
cold weather, when j^ou can get it, is in the form of 
sandwiches of toasted bread, thick slices of butter, 
and brown or maple sugar. It is very nourishing, 
and it will not freeze up like plain bread, as there is 
practically no water in it. Outfitters supply excel- 
lent butter, in one-pound cans, that will keep in 
any climate. 

Butter is out of the question in an emergency ra- 
tion that is to be sealed up and kept indefinitely. 
There are, however, certain other fats that will take 
its place as fuel. 

Desiccated Eggs, if prepared from the whole 
egg, contain 36% of fat. They are also remark- 
ably rich in protein. There is no good reason, ex- 
cept its cost and the fact that it requires cooking, 
why egg powder should not form a considerable con- 
stituent of an emergency ration, as it keeps perfectly 
when protected from moisture. (See Vol. I., pp. 
183 and 189). Its fat content is nearly equal to 
that of full cream cheese, and its fuel value nearly a 
third more. 

Chocolate^ in plain form, contains about 49% 
of vegetable fat; less, of course, when sweetened. 
It is necessary, however, for eating purposes, that 
chocolate should have considerable sugar added, and 
this is directly a gain, for sugar itself is stored energy, 
as we soon shall see. Chocolate never gets stale. 


It requires no cooking, can be eaten on the march, 
yet a stimulating hot drink can be prepared from 
it in a few minutes. It is the experience of Alpin- 
ists and other go-light artists that no other raw food 
of equal weight and bulk will carry a man so far 
under severe strain as a handful of raisins and a 
cake of chocolate. When eaten by itself, chocolate 
is constipating and cloying, at least to some people. 
Raisins eaten along with it prevent digestive 
troubles; a couple of crackers help the ration. 

There is a "camper's emergency ration," carried 
in stock by outfitters, that contains chocolate, malted 
milk, egg albumen, casein, sugar, and cocoa butter, 
with added coffee flavor. Three cakes of it, each 
sufficient for a meal, are wrapped in paper and tin- 
foil and enclosed in a sealed box with key-opener, 
the box being 4^ x 3 x i^ inches, and rounded 
for the pocket. The net weight of the ration is 8 
ounces; gross w^eight of box filled, 11^ ounces. 
Chocolate is not to be recommended for hot weather. 

Nuts. — The table of food values in Vol. I., pp. 
182-184, shows that various nuts are very rich in 
vegetable fat, and so have high fuel values. They 
are discussed on page 196 of the same volume. Nuts 
should be chewed thoroughly, so as to be well mixed 
with saliva, or they will clog the digestive tract. 

Sweets. — Sugar has peculiar merit as a compon- 
ent of the emergency ration. All old-timers know 
from experience that one has an unusual craving for 
sweets when working hard afield. Hunters and 
lumberjacks and soldiers suffered from that crav- 
ing long before scientists discovered the cause 
of it, which is that during hard muscular exertion 
the consumption of sugar in the body increases four- 

It may sound odd but it is true, that when hunters 
or explorers are reduced to a diet of meat "straight'* 
the most grateful addition that they could have 
would be something sweet. Men can get along 
ver}'^ well on venison, without bread, if they have 
maple sugar or candy and some citric acid (crystal- 


lized lemon juice) to go with It. And there is good 
reason for this. Sugars have about the same food 
uses as starches, because all starch must be converted 
into sugar or dextrin before it can be assimilated. 
Mark, then, that sugar needs no conversion; there- 
fore it acts quickly as a pick-me-up to relieve fatigue, 
while bread or any other starchy food would have to 
go first through the process of changing into sugar 
before it could supply force and heat to the body. 

A great advantage of sweets is that every normal 
person likes them. Another is that they are anti- 
septic and preservative, which adapts them perfectly 
to use in rations that may have to be stored or car- 
ried a long time before using. 

These are not merely my own individual opinions, 
)although all my experience backs them. Since the 
worth of sweets in a sportsman's or soldier's food 
supply is commonly underrated, or even ridiculed, 
through sheer crass ignorance, let me quote from 
Thompson, one of the most eminent of our dieti- 
cians : 

"The value of sweets in the adult dietary has ot 
late years found recognition in armies. The British 
War Office shipped 1,500,000 pounds of jam to South 
Africa as a four months' supply for 116,000 troops, 
and one New York firm, during the Spanish-Ameri- 
can War, shipped over fifty tons of confectionery to 
the troops in Cuba, Porto Rico, and the Philippines. 
The confectionery consisted of chocolate creams, 
cocoanut macaroons, lemon and other acid fruit 
drops. . . 

"An old-time custom among soldiers in the field 
is to fill a canteen with two parts vinegai* and one 
part molasses as an emergency sustaining drink. . . . 

"Sugar furnishes, in addition to heat, considerable 
muscle energy, and it has been lately proved by 
Mosso, Vaughn Harley and others to have distinct 
power in relieving muscular fatigue. 

"Vaughn Harley found that with an exclusive diet 
of 17V2 ounces of sugar dissolved in water he could 
perform almost as much muscular work as upon a 
full mixed diet. The effect in lessening muscle 
fatigue was noticeable in half an hour and reached 
A maximum in two hours. Three or four ounces of 


sugar taken before the expected onset of fatigue 
postponed or entirely inhibited the sensation. 

"The hard-working lumbermen of Canada and 
Maine eat a very large quantity of sugar in the form 
of molasses. I have seen them add it to tea and to 
almost everything they cook. Sugar has also been, 
found of much service upon polar expeditions." 

Many of our sportsmen, when going light, sub- 
stitute saccharin (saxin, crystallose) for sugar, 
thinking thereby to save weight and bulk. This is a 
grave error. It is true that saccharin has enormous 
sweetening power, and that moderate use of it on aa 
outing trip, in one's tea and coffee, will do no harm. 
But the point overlooked is that sugar is a concen- 
t rated source of energyT^easily and quickly assimi- 
lated, whereas saccharin produces no energy at all, 
being nothing but a coal-tar drug. It is the grape 
sugar in raisins, for example, that makes them so 

Sir Ernest Shackleton, in outfitting his party for 
their recent antarctic expedition, made sugar figure 
largely in the rations. On the previous exploring 
trip he and his companions each took two or three 
lumps of sugar every two or three hours, and he 
said that ten minutes after eating it they could 
feel the heat going through their bodies. 

One at least of the nations engaged in the pres- 
ent war supplies its men in the trenches with a daily 
ration of ten ounces of sugar, which is over three 
times the allowance of sugar in the field ration of 
our own service. "It has been found, however," 
says Outing, "that this abundance of sweet not only 
gives the soldier added muscular strength but in- 
creases his resistance to cold and fatigue, both phys- 
ical and nervous. The action of sugar is most ef- 
fective when dissolved in some hot liquid: it is es- 
pecially beneficial taken in chocolate." 

Fri/its. — One fault of all the ready-made con- 
centrated rations that I have seen was that they con- 
tained no acids. A fruit acid is needed, even in a 
food preparation that is to be used only for a day 
or two, in order to correct the ultra-sweet or fatty 


components, and is particularly desirable in summer. 
It is easy to supply the deficiency, in very con- 
centrated form, by adding tablets of citric acid. This 
makes refreshing lemonade. Lime-juice tablets are 
good on the march, as they combine sugar with 
acid, and not only supply energy but ward off thirst. 
Fruit acid is supplied in very palatable form by de- j 
hydrated rhubarb and cranberries, which cook in a 
few minutes, and can scarcely be told from the fresh 

Raisins have already been mentioned several times. 
Their stimulating effect, due to the grape sugar in 
them, is felt ten minutes after eating. On the trail, 
when working hard, as in mountain climbing, it is 
a good rule to eat little and often. Raisins are 
particularly convenient for munching as one goes 
along. They have added value in that they are 
mildly laxative, and something of that sort is cer- 
tainly needed in the ration. Figs have the same 
virtue. I Imagine the seeds have som^ethlng to do 
with this, and for that reason I do not use seedless 
or seeded raisins. 

Dehydrated vegetables have no place in emergency 
rations simply because they require long cooking. 

Ration Packing. — The mere weight of the tin 
container of the discarded U. S. A. emergency ration 
Avas a serious objection. Such a box will weigh 
about a third as much as the food itself. Being 
made of heavy tin, It Is hard to open. If a key 
opener is attached, it is likely to be lost. A cover 
of parchment paper, which Is waterproof, dirt-proof, 
and insect-proof, like the erbswurst ''sausage," is 
cheaper, easier to apply, weighs practically nothing, 
snd can be torn off with the fingers. 

I think it is a mistake to mix meat powder with 
legumes or cereals and seal the mass up in an air- 
tight cover. In such case, each food taints the 
other. The combination has a stale, nondescript 
taste, whereas each component would preserve its 
natural flavor if packed separately. For woodsmen, 
if not for troops, it seems more practical to put up • 


the emergency ration in two, or even three, separate 
packages, each containing only such articles as will 
not taint nor steal flavor from the others. This sug- 
gestion is made for rations to be carried in stock by 
outfitters, which are likely to be kept a good^ while 
in storage. 

But when a camper puts up emergency grub for 
himself, there is a better way. Raisins, pinole, and 
the like, are best carried in little bags of thin paraf- 
fined cloth (the "balloon silk" of tent makers), tied 
low enough so that the top can be doubled over 
and tied again, making a water-tight package, very 
light, and soft enough to go into one's pocket, or 
an>^vhere. Chocolate (which I don't carry in hot 
weather) usually comes w^rapped in tin-foil, and en- 
closed in paper. You will need salt, in a water- 
pi oof bag or a bamboo tube, to season such game 
or fish as you may get. 

If you carry anything in which water can be 
boiled, put a dozen tabloids of tea in the ration^ 
leave out chocolate and substitute sugar. A hot cup 
of sweetened tea Is one of the best hearteners that 
I know of, and the tabloid tea sold by outfitters is 
pretty good. But what vessel to boil In? Water 
can be boiled in a bark cup, as I shall show here- 
after; but maybe you can't find bark that will peel. 
A practical outdoorsman, C. L. Oilman, suggests 
that the emergency food be packed In a half-pound 
cocoa can, which is of handy shape for the pocket, 
seamed water-tight without solder, holds a pint, 
and has a cover that fits over the outside. Punch 
two holes near top edge of can, and make a remov- 
able wire bail that will stow inside. Steam escapet 
through bail holes when cover Is on. Thus your 
grub has a light tin container that is good for some- 
thing when It Is opened. 

For myself, I would fill that little kettle with 
pinole, sugar, tea, and salt, In "pokes," and would 
carry some raisins separately. One advantage of 
pinole, aside from those already mentioned, is that 
it is not, like chocolate and raisins, a confection 


that tempts one to draw on it when he does not 
need it, albeit the flavor is good, when the stuff is 
properly prepared, and does not pall on the appetite. 

Light Traveling Rations. — Many corre- 
spondents have asked me to suggest a "grub list" for 
men tiaveling light — one that should be complete 
in itself, without helping out by game or fisli or 
articles purchased on the way. Tastes differ, and 
"what is one man's meat is another man's poison." 
Some assimilate their food more completely than 
others. I know of several experienced campers who 
seem to get along very well on a food allowance 
(their own choice) of from i^ to i^ pounds a 
day. They are quite exceptional. An average man, 
engaged in hearty outdoor exercise, requires, on a 
trip of more than two or three days, about 2^ 
pounds a day of carefully selected and varied food 
that is, as nearly as practicable, water-free. Study 
the chapter on Provisions in the first volume of this 
book, paying heed to the table of nutritive values. 

As all-around advice, I can do no better than sug- 
gest, for a real light but adequate and wholesome 
ration, what I have given on the list of Summer 
Equipment for Back-packing in Chapter VII., omit- 
ting the cheese. This would make the ra