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CAMP CRAFT
CAMP CRAFT
MODERN PRACTICE AND EQUIPMENT
BY
WARREN H. MILLER
EDITOR OF "field AND STREAM"
WITH INTRODUCTION
BY
"ERNEST THOMPSON SETON
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1915
N/1 G>
Copyright, 1915, bv
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
Published May, 1915
TO THE RED MAN,
WHOSE WOODCRAFT EXCEEDS OUR BEST
AS THE MASTER THE 'PRENTICE,
THIS WORK IS DEDICATED
357408
AN INTRODUCTION
BY ERNEST THOMPSON SETON
No one who studies man's beginnings in the
light of modern research can doubt that Woodcraft
was the earUest of our sciences. It was Woodcraft
indeed that constructed man out of the crude and
brutish stuff that was then the best live product of
the earth. We can see a little of the process to-day
in our children, just as we see the baby panther wear
first the spotted coat of his long-past forebears,
before he dons the brown of his older kin. And
weightier yet it seems to me that Woodcraft, in its
broad entirety, more than any other activity, is
calculated to save our species from decay.
The Camp Life is the climax of all Woodcraft,
and the man who leads us there — ^who blazes the
trail, who teaches us the fords that grow less fear-
some as we follow — is a heal-worker for our race.
Many a man and woman, I have heard say or
imply, that they "would like to go camping, but
they are afraid J* Of what ? Vague fears of animals ?
Unknown terrors ? or very definite fears of hard-
ships that they believe are an essential part of it \
They are not well informed. The blue sky life
is associated with some mighty benefits, and some
vii
viii INTRODUCTION
real dangers. The wise aim at getting the first and
avoiding the second. The benefits are beyond
question — all the glorious purification of sunlight,
the upbuild of exercise with the zest of pleasure,
the balm of fresh air at night, the blessedness of
sleep, the nerve rest, and change of daily life. The
dangers are — rheumatism from improper beds, di-
gestive trouble from improper meals, and minor
troubles from insects or improper indulgence in the
sun-bath, or exposure to weather stress.
These are the real dangers (there is no danger
from animals), and the man who shows us the simple,
effectual, inexpensive ways of winning all the joys,
and dodging all the sorrows, has done no small
thing for his people.
This is the aim of "Camp Craft," and it is an open
secret that for many years the author has in his own
proper person, as well as among his many friends,
tried out all the things he writes about — yes, many
times — before offering them to the world as things
of proven worth.
April, 1915.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Kinds of Camps i
II. Tents 26
III. Eliminating the Blanket 42
IV. Getting Away from the Browse Bed . 64
V. The Camp-Fire 79
VI. Cook-Kits and Cook-Fires 95
VII. The Chef on the Trail 114
VIII. Trail Accessories 135
IX. In Emergency 157
X. Taking the Family Along 180
XL Western Camping 197
XII. The Lone Jack Diamond Hitch, Tents,
AND Clothing 209
XIII. Getting on Your Feet 221
XIV. Camp Comforts 235
XV. Camp Organization 251
XVL Build Yourself a Permanent Camp . , 268
ILLUSTRATIONS
Forester tent designed by the author , . . . Frontispiece
The Vreeland two-man light hiking tent . . Facing page 6
A camp for the northern wilderness . . . Facing page 8
Windbreak for camp-fire and tents on the sand-dunes
Facing page 10
A closed canoe tent for salt-water cruising, with decked
canvas canoe Facing page I2
Camp in the Montana Rockies .... Facing page i8
Automobile tents designed to fasten to car frame
Facing page 30
The red man's teepee Facing page 30
Baker tent in southern Montana. Owned by Stewart
Edward White Facing page 34
Styles of tent Facing page 38
Pack sack sleeping-bag laced up as a pack sack Facing page 52
The army model pack sack sleeping-bag . . Facing page 52
Pack sack sleeping-bag designed by the author Facing page 60
Air-mattress bed used by big-game hunters in Alberta
Facing page 66
An air-mattress bed camp Facing page 70
xi
xii ILLUSTRATIONS
Rolling up the stick bed Facing page 74
Blizzard tent with stick bed on lodge pole pine side poles
Facing page 76
The back-log fire Facing page 82
The Indian stick fire Facing page 82
The log cooking-range Facing page 86
On right, reflector Baker fire; left, wire grate and grid fire
of split billets , . Facing page 86
One-hole camp stove. Room for one extra pot on top
Facing page 92
Two-hole camp stove designed by author for Forester
cook kit Facing page 92
The Phelps cook kit Facing page 102
Complete aluminum cooking outfit for a party of eight
Facing page 108
Log bowl, wire and fork broiler, and club baker Facing page 112
Kinds of cook fire Facing page 116
Aluminum table set on log-and-gravel table . Facing page 122
The Forester cook kit Facing page 130
The stopple one-man cook kit Facing page 132
A family encampment for five Facing page 182
Family kitchen, eating-fly and table, and side-opening
food bags Facing page 186
Clothes for the outdoor girl Facing page 190
In the bow of your canoe Facing page 190
ILLUSTRATIONS xiii
Typical western ponies, saddle accoutrements, and riding-
clothes for man and girl Facing page 198
Throwing the diamond hitch on a packhorse Facing page 202
Lone Jack hitch, Fig. I 210
Lone Jack hitch, Fig. 2 211
Lone Jack hitch. Fig. 3 212
Lone Jack hitch. Fig. 4 213
Foot-wear Facing page 228
Side-opening food packs opened and rolled up Facing page 242
Some of the provision sacks and friction-top cans for
butter and pork Facing page 242
The "Nessmuk" night fire 257
Woodland cooking range 259
A "Forester" encampment 263
A hunting-lodge that can be brought in by canoe . . . 272
Detail of roof and panels 273
xiJ ILLUSTRATIONS
Rolling up the stick bed Facing page 74
Blizzard tent with stick bed on lodge pole pine side poles
Facing page 76
The back-log fire Facing page 82
The Indian stick fire Facing page 82
The log cooking-range Facing page 86
On right, reflector Baker fire; left, wire grate and grid fire
of split billets Facing page 86
One-hole camp stove. Room for one extra pot on top
Facing page 92
Two-hole camp stove designed by author for Forester
cook kit Facing page 92
The Phelps cook kit Facing page 102
Complete aluminum cooking outfit for a party of eight
Facing page 108
Log bowl, wire and fork broiler, and club baker Facing page 112
Kinds of cook fire Facing page 116
Aluminum table set on log-and-gravel table . Facing page 122
The Forester cook kit Facing page 130
The stopple one-man cook kit Facing page 132
A family encampment for five Facing page 182
Family kitchen, eating-fly and table, and side-opening
food bags Facing page 186
Clothes for the outdoor girl Facing page 190
In the bow of your canoe Facing page 190
ILLUSTRATIONS xiii
Typical western ponies, saddle accoutrements, and riding-
clothes for man and girl Facing page 198
Throwing the diamond hitch on a packhorse Facing page 202
Lone Jack hitch, Fig. i 210
Lone Jack hitch, Fig. 2 211
Lone Jack hitch. Fig. 3 212
Lone Jack hitch, Fig. 4 213
Foot-wear Facing page 228
Side-opening food packs opened and rolled up Facing page 242
Some of the provision sacks and friction-top cans for
butter and pork Facing page 242
The "Nessmuk" night fire 257
Woodland cooking range 259
A "Forester" encampment 263
A hunting-lodge that can be brought in by canoe . . . 272
Detail of roof and panels 273
CAMP CRAFT
CHAPTER I
KINDS OF CAMPS
THIS good green earth on which we live is an
immense place; how immense is not reaHzed
until one comes to walk across it or traverse it by
any other primitive means of travel. The globe-
trotter who races across it on express-trains little
knows his earth underfoot. He sees something of
the diversity of the peoples which inhabit the earth
and notices some of their, to him, "queer" customs,
but he neither perceives nor would understand the
underlying causes which make for this diversity and
compel these customs which seem to him so unusual.
But the woods cruiser, the pack-and-saddle ex-
plorer, the canoe voyageur, the dog-and-sledge trav-
eller— he knows the earth ! To him are plain the
great natural conditions, differing all over the globe,
which mould the life and customs of its inhabitants.
To him even five miles of travel may mean a whole
day's toil and struggle against head winds, adverse
currents, and choppy seas, with a stop at noon to
i - CAMP CRAFT
get lunch; whereas the same distance to the train
traveller would be a mere detail, a few minutes, per-
haps, between local stations. What does the tour-
ist know of natural conditions that govern in the
countries he passes over ? What does he know of
these great, primitive essentials of food, warmth, and
shelter in the cactus deserts of Arizona, on the fir-
clad slopes of the Rockies, in the spruce hills of
Maine, in the piney dunes of the Atlantic coast, in
the Laurentian wildernesses of Canada, and the
snowy wastes of the far North.
But the explorer, the hunter, the fisherman who
has matched himself against the wild environment
of all these countries — he knows ! He respects the
bigness of the earth, even of such an infinitesimal
inch of it as five miles of its contour. He appreciates
why the people do thus and so in different countries,
for he has felt the same conditions operating upon
himself as the inhabitants live under. To the train
traveller from New York to Seattle all the cities are
much alike, it is only the countryside that is differ-
ent; but to the outdoors man, oh, what a difference
in the length and breadth of that 3,000 miles ! The
same equipment that is the acme of perfection in the
Eastern woods will require adaptation to camping
conditions in the Rockies; the latter equipment
would need extensive modification in Arizona, while
none of them would be just the thing for a coastal
KINDS OF CAMPS 3
cruise along the great bays and sounds of the Atlantic
seaboard. Why ? Because the natural conditions
obtaining are different. The climate is different;
fuel, water, transportation, and food problems are
all different, and these factors cause modification
of the equipment to suit.
It is these things that make camping out in differ-
ent countries so fascinating, and it is these condi-
tions, also, that explain the amazing diversity of
tents, packing and sleeping paraphernalia, and outer's
tools offered by the various outfitting firms. There
is no one best tent, nor pack-sack, nor canoe, nor
blanket, nor axe, nor even hunting-knife !
It all depends upon where you are going and what
you propose to do. But for each country and cli-
mate there is one kind of camp universally conceded
by veterans to be the best within certain limited
modifications. Every detail of such a camp, every
article for the procuring of food, shelter, warmth, and
transportation exactly fits the natural conditions
obtaining; and if any part of the outfit is unsuitable
or is omitted entirely, by that much does the camp
fail to meet the existing requirements.
Let us, as it were, throw upon the screen some
typical American wilderness scenery and discuss the
types of camps that fit best into their environment.
Scene One. Most famiHar of all, the hardwood and
hemlock forests that clothe our Appalachian hills
4 CAMP CRAFT
and extend westward to the prairies and north to
the Lake States. A country of noble stands of oak
and maple timber, with great areas of thick brush-
land saplings, the haunts of grouse and woodcock;
of placid and hly-padded lakes, where the fighting
bass and musky lurk and wild ducks congregate in
the fall; of brawling brooks and alder bottoms,
where trout and white-tailed deer tempt the adven-
turous spirit in the frosty seasons. The spring and
fall temperatures are comparatively mild, snowfall
light, if any, and nearly every part of this country
is accessible to team and buckboard by old, aban-
doned lumber-road routes.
These are the conditions; what of the camp ? It
IS the beginners' country, the ideal for the man who
cannot cook except in the most rudimentary fashion;
who teams in a ton of things and forgets the salt;
who totes 20 pounds of canned goods in a lo-pound
wooden soap-box and brings in a 50-pound tent
and 40 pounds of camp-cots and furniture to sleep
two men; who is lost if a quarter of a mile from a
lumber road and is frightened into lunacy if he hap-
pens to get left out overnight.
For him the heavy lo-ounce duck 9 x 15-foot wall-
tent, with a fly over it and a board floor; a folding
canvas camp-cot with two or three pairs of army
blankets, some camp-stools, a cook-stove, a folding
dining-table, a collapsible cupboard; all the rods,
KINDS OF CAMPS S
rifles, shotguns, ammunition, and tackle he wants;
fresh bread and ham, canned vegetables and pre-
serves; a folding canvas bathtub — you needn't laugh;
these things are all comforts, and as the team brought
them in to the camp site and can take them out
again, it is the logical style of camp for a country
with such easy transportation facilities. By estab-
lishing a camp kitchen, with a complete aluminum
cooking and table outfit, a reflector baker, and some
practical knowledge of camp cookery, a party of
campers should subsist for months in such a camp
with virtually all the comforts of home and the
added benefits of sleeping and living out in the open.
This country is also the ideal for the go-light man,
with his gossamer outfit, care-free and happy, with
his whole hotel on his back, weighing less than 30
pounds. He is free to hunt and fish where he wills,
to go where no blazed trails lead; he is never "lost,"
for his home is right with him, and he knows well
that his few days' provisions are ample to see him
safely to some settlement where further supplies
can be purchased. There are any number of go-
light tents and equipments, designed by those who
have given the subject much study, and they afford
quite as much real comfort as the caravan camp of
the veriest tyro; but it takes an experienced man to
manage them properly and get the maximum of
comfort and independence out of them. The basis
6 CAMP CRAFT
for such equipments is a light one or two man tent
of fine water-proof fabric, weighing not over 4 pounds ;
a light all-wool blanket or sleeping-bag; the lightest
of cook-kits, and a variety of wholesome and nutri-
tious provisions which are Hght and compact and
form the basis of many times their weight of cooked
food upon the addition of water from the nearest
brook and duly cooking. If the go-light man is
hunting he has but one weapon; if fishing, one rod
and a limited amount of tackle. A Hght belt-axe
of the finest steel furnishes him with all the fuel,
tent-poles, and stakes he requires, and his mattress
is either cut balsam and hemlock browse or dry
leaves and pine-needles.
His outfit overlaps into the sterner lands to the
north; so we throw on Scene Two, the spruce
and white-birch country of Maine, New Brunswick,
Quebec, Nova Scotia, Ontario — anywhere in the
growing range of those two trees. They do not
thrive in the warmer climate of the hardwood for-
ests; theirs is the country of long, cold winters, with
the snow yards deep from November to April, where
the principal hardwood is the yellow and the white
birch, and the balsams, spruces, pines, and hem-
locks cover the granite mountains — the land of the
moose and caribou; of rivers that are but overgrown
brawling brooks, with white water all the way down;
of trout that are leviathan in size and omnivorous
KINDS OF CAMPS 7
in their tastes as to fraudulent flies; a country
where roads are few and far between, where the
blazed trail through the timber is the sole guide, and
even a footpath is a boon. The temperatures are
severe; the cold begins early in September, and the
first light snows are on the ground before October.
The summer is short and sweet, with the nights
cold enough to demand efficient blanketing, and at
certain seasons the insect life is such as to demand
special preparation to withstand it.
To meet these conditions, to begin with, all trans-
portation must be by canoe and shoulder pack,
usually both, for every canoe trail has its portages.
Wherefore we find two kinds of camps — the perma-
nent log shack, into which the necessities of life have
been laboriously packed by industrious guides, and
the nomadic camp, much like the go-light equipment
of the more temperate zones but designed to pro-
vide comfort under much sterner conditions. To
save total weight carried by the party in such an
equipment, the tent must accommodate at least four
men, yet not weigh over 10 pounds. To meet the
extreme cold of the spring and fall nights, ordinary
army blankets will not do, as they make too bulky
a parcel if enough of them are taken to insure
warmth; wherefore the various styles of sleeping-
bags, which are essentially a series of the hghtest
and finest all-wool blankets, with every superfluous
8 CAMP CRAFT
inch of material pared away and the whole enclosed
in a wind-and-water-proof envelope to prevent air
currents drifting through the weave of the blanket-
ing and stealing away the precious bodily heat. To
meet the conditions of food supply with no available
points of replenishment, enough must be carried to
subsist the whole party, and this must be selected of
the Hghtest and most nutritious of raw materials,
with a good cook in camp to render them into pal-
atable, wholesome, and sustaining food. A prac-
tical knowledge of woodcraft will be essential — not
book knowledge, which is likely to have some essen-
tial detail hazy or forgotten, but the knowledge that
comes of experience, of having done it before, again
and again, so that there will be no failure this time;
hunting and fishing knowledge that gets the game,
so that there will be meat in camp, with none of the
few opportunities to get it overlooked or bungled;
knowledge of how to butcher and prepare the raw
product of rod and rifle, of how to make the forest
itself yield the major part of the comforts — for, rest
assured, the necessities will weigh enough to tax the
whole party's combined strength without adding
anything in the way of luxuries. It is the country
for the veteran woodsman, for the man who has
already tried himself out and accumulated his ex-
perience in the easier schools of the temperate-cli-
mate forests.
KINDS OF CAMPS 9
As regards the permanent camps, for the beginner
they are the only solution of the problem in this
country. Experienced guides have already looked
after the essentials; all he has to do is to bring not
too many luxuries along and be careful not to get
lost.
Turning from this stern picture, the postgraduate
school of Eastern woodsmanship, let us throw on a
milder scene. Scene Three, the great salt-water bays
of the Atlantic seaboard, where shore-birds and
wild fowl are countless in their numbers, and tooth-
some and gamy salt-water fish are ready for your
rod and line. A country of great stretches of open
water, of vast green marshes backed by deep, piney
forests, of blazing white sand-dunes and roaring
lines of foaming surf. Except in the duck season
the days are cool and the nights comparatively
warm, that is, a single blanket suffices and most
sleeping-bags are too hot. Transportation will be
by boat or decked sailing canoe. The ordinary open
canoe, so essential in the wilderness streams and
lakes, is out of place here, as both wind and wave
are too severe for it to live, and one's progress is
continually interrupted by being wind-bound. It is
almost impossible to paddle against such a wind and
sea as gets up daily on these great bays and sounds,
and the water is too deep for poling, wherefore the
open rowboat, the sailing sneak-box, or the decked
10 CAMP CRAFT
sailing canoe which will live and thrive in a sea that
calls for three reefs in larger craft.
Ashore the two big natural conditions are sand and
mosquitoes. Sand drifts, blows, and gets into every-
thing, and at night the mosquitoes are abroad in
untold milHons. Forearmed against these two evils,
there is no better country to put in an outing, for
the wild life is abundant, there are a thousand di-
verse occupations for an outdoorsman, and the cli-
mate is pleasant and agreeable. To get rid of the
sand nuisance the tent should be of the closed type,
with ground-cloth sewed fast to the bottom of the
walls, and a high canvas sill provided at the opening,
or door. Sand drops from your shoes whenever
you raise a foot, but will run off in the act of step-
ping over such a sill, so that when you set foot in
the tent you have neither kicked a spurt of sand
before you into the tent nor drained a shower of it
off your foot into it on entering. At that, quite a
little will collect, and one's sleeping-rig should be
raised a few inches from the floor by either a cot,
or a mat of dried sea-grass, which latter can be had
in great bundles along the bay shore.
The mosquitoes give little trouble during the day-
time, but by sunset they are up and about, remain-
ing all night and departing shortly after sunrise.
These conditions make essential a fine mosquito-bar
absolutely closing the tent and a camp regime that
KINDS OF CAMPS ii
will be through with supper before the mosquitoes
arrive. Also a tent big enough to enjoy oneself in
when the whole party is gathered inside, either be-
cause of inclement weather or the mosquitoes.
With such simple precautions, camping in this coun-
try is an enjoyable experience. Very little meat
need be taken, as the supply of clams, crabs, fish of
all sorts, and birds seems inexhaustible; the cook
fire must be surrounded on three sides by a board
windbreak, made of surf driftwood, to keep out
blowing sand, and every cooking utensil in service
must have a cover on it for the same reason. Avoid
a tent that requires many poles to put up, for these
are not easy to find along the beach; if camping up
the estuaries and small sandy bays, with pines and
hardwoods coming right down to the water's edge,
this difficulty disappears.
For a lone cruiser or two canoes saiHng in consort,
perhaps the best tent is a canoe-tent, buttoned over
the cockpit coaming, with the ridge-rope strung be-
tween the two masts. The canoe is hauled out on
the beach and sand banked up around it; a mat-
tress bag is filled with dry sedge or sea-grass and
put in the bottom of the cockpit, and such a home
is dry, warm, mosquito-proof, and quickly set up at
the end of the day's cruise. The weapon to take
on such a camp is a i2-gauge shotgun, with full as-
sortment of shells; its weight does not matter in a
12 CAMP CRAFT
sailing canoe with no portages, and a light, small-
gauge gun has not the range needed for efficient
game-getting. The rod should be a stout surf rod
with a first-class reel and 300 yards of i8-strand
line, a standard surf-casting outfit, so that when you
tie into a 30-pound sea-bass or channel-bass you will
not lose him. The weakfish and bluefish of both
bay and ocean will be too light to give much sport
with such a rod, but it is well to be prepared for
almost anything when you cast your bait into the
old ocean !
The last of the Eastern pictures now comes on
the screen.
Scene Four, a wild river, flowing, oh, anywhere !
— in the Laurentians of Quebec, through the green
hills of the Alleghanies, or down in the cypress
bayous of the Carolinas — it does not matter, so that
it be a river with never a farm along its banks; and
we are going 200 or 300 miles down it without ex-
pecting to see more than a bridge or two to remind
us that civilization exists. In a word, a river to set
the canoe voyageur's pulse beating faster and recall
to him memories of that stout ashen paddle that in
his hands drove the light birch-bark down hurtling
rapids, past hungry bowlders, around down trees,
over dams and chutes — all the thrills and excite-
ments that make canoe travel a blessed memory.
What are the natural conditions to be met ?
KINDS OF CAMPS 13
First of all, while the equipment does not have to
be pared down to the fineness of a back-pack trip,
it must be reasonably light and compact, say 50
pounds per man. There will be portages and down
trees to get over, and unless you want to double-
trip it, the duffel must be limited, as the canoe itself
is no mean burden. This craft should not exceed
60 pounds in weight for the 16-foot size, and lighter
preferred, provided that the river travel does not
demand a stout, strong canoe to withstand man-
handling over rocks. For absolute wilderness travel
a heavy, all-wood canoe is needed, of the 18-foot
size, and for any and all of them an efficient repair-
kit and the materials to do with are essential. In
the nature of things the tent should be light and
easily and quickly put up, without too many poles,
which may take a lot of time to find at the stopping
place. The daily regime calls for breaking camp
and getting under way by eight o'clock, an all-day
paddle with a brief stop at noon for a lunch and a
rest, and a definite stop about four o'clock to pitch
camp, cook supper, and make all snug for the night.
All the best canoeing is to be had when the nights
are cold, for then the insect life, which is always
abundant near water, has not yet begun to hatch
out or else is frozen up for the winter. Wherefore
the sleeping-rig must be comfortable and sufficient,
some form of sleeping-bag preferred to blankets, and
14 CAMP CRAFT
the same enclosed in a water-proof envelope or tump-
bag, for the canoe is sure to ship more or less water
during the day, and unprotected bedding will be
found soaking wet when you want to use it. The
foodstuffs will be light and nutritious, and are best
carried in water-proof side-opening food-bags that
will protect them against water in the bottom of the
canoe, float them safely in case of upset, and yet de-
liver them handy to the cook when wanted, for the
meals must be swiftly and efficiently cooked, often
after dark, when things get lost easily if dumped out
of an ordinary tump-bag near the cook-fire. One
three-quarter axe should find a place somewhere in
the canoe, as it will often be in service in clearing log
jams and opening impassable holes in the bayous.
Of all wilderness travel the canoe camping trip is
probably the easiest on the bodily muscles, for one
sits down the major part of the day, and the exercise
of paddHng is never tiring enough to get that dog-
tired weariness that comes from a hard day afoot
or on horseback. Also for beauty and diversity of
scenery, for continuous excitement with the natural
hazards of the river it is hard to beat. The weapon
to take is preferably a double shotgun, with ball
cartridges for big game and a large assortment of
sizes of shot, for it is almost impossible to get a rifle
sight in a fast-moving, constantly turning canoe,
whereas the shots that offer themselves to the shot-
KINDS OF CAMPS 15
gun are innumerable and will result in much meat
in the pot in the day's run. For a rod, either the
bait-casting outfit or the trout-rod is the thing, de-
pending on the waters canoed over. As there is
little time at night to gather browse or cut it, some
form of stick bed or stretcher bed is preferable,
though, with a good acetylene camp-lamp, there is no
reason why all the dead leaves, pine-needles, or ever-
green browse wanted should not be obtained after
supper before retiring. It is something of a nuisance
to do this daily, however, and one way out of it is
to fill your mattress bag once for all, and carry it
full in the canoe as you go along. There is always
room, and unless there are long portages, the added
weight is not perceptible.
Our stereopticon now swings 3,000 miles to the
west, and there develops upon the canvas Scene
Five, in the heart of the Rockies. The forests are
fir, balsam, lodge-pole pine, and spruce, with cotton-
wood as the principal hardwood, and the trails lead
through them and out along great rocky slopes,
with dizzy precipices awaiting him who loses the
way. Then, up over snowy summits and divides,
with perhaps a descent to brown bunch-grass prairie
extending for miles. It is always windy and blowy,
and the nights are cold and sharp, and with the
opening of the big-game season comes the snow in
generous layers, one or two feet thick, with now and
i6 CAMP CRAFT
then a blizzard thrown in for good measure. The
distances are always immense, and there is but little
navigable water to help out.
These are the natural facts and conditions to be
met. How is man to provide himself with food,
shelter, warmth, and transportation in such a coun-
try .? To begin with, we want a tent, a whole lot of
tent, not a shelter or an open lean-to, but the near-
est thing to a canvas house for the whole party that
can be provided. Now, a man can go afoot with a
go-light equipment in that country — but he won't
go far. There's a limit to what he can carry on his
back, and the combined adversities of altitude and
steep mountain trails set that limit at 20 to 30
pounds. Add to that the necessity for a warm
sleeping rig, good down to 20 and 30 below zero,
and you see why the foot traveller is limited to short
trips of a few days' distance from the home camp.
And as this latter must be located anywhere from
50 to 100 miles in from the nearest railroad, we begin
to seek out a pack-horse to carry the necessary out-
fit. Such an animal will carry 120 to 150 pounds on
his back all day long and subsist off the mountain
meadow and prairie grass feed, with a little oats
taken along for emergencies.
Now, here are the daily conditions: You are out
hunting all day long, generally in the deep snow
after October i, and you come home at night dog-
KINDS OF CAMPS 17
tired and wet through from your toes to your
thighs. Nothing yet devised will keep deep snow
from wetting you down in the long day's hunt.
You then want a warm, closed tent, out of the bitter
wind, where you can change your wet clothes, hang
them up to dry for next day, and get supper. That
calls for a wall-tent with a tent-stove in it, not an
open shelter-tent with a dead fire in front of it
buried under a foot of snow. You can use the latter,
but the former is the logical outfit. As the party is
usually not less than four — one horse-wrangler, one
helper and cook, and two hunters — -the tent should
be big enough to shelter all of them; not less than
9x1 5-foot size, and of stout, water-proof duck, for
any lighter fabric is apt to get torn when the pack-
animal carrying the tent runs amuck in the tall
timber and succeeds in ripping a hole in it by
trying to squeeze between two spruces that will
hardly pass one horse, let alone his pack ! How-
ever, he manages it somehow, in spite of the fran-
tic objurgations of all the men in the party,
and comes through triumphant, with your silk
tent torn to ribbons in spite of the protecting
"tarps."
The tent-stove wants a bake-oven in it, and at
least two pot-holes. Then, we must have rope for
making temporary corrals, bells, and hobbles; a
shoeing outfit; rope to hang wet clothes on along
i8 CAMP CRAFT
under the tent ridge-pole; and in general there is
little gained in trying to save every ounce of weight
possible.
On the other hand, all unnecessary luxuries must
be left behind, for the essentials themselves weigh
enough as it is without multiplying pack-horses. A
party of four, each leading a pack-horse, can get
along very comfortably taking all the equipment
and provisions needed for a two to three weeks' trip
into the mountains, and have horse-flesh enough
to bring out all their heads and trophies at the end
of the trip without having to walk. If the meat also
is to be brought out, all hands will have to walk, and
the saddle-horses take the meat. One haunch of
elk is pretty nearly a load in itself. In such a coun-
try small game is abundant, and a pistol of some sort
is needed to gather it in as one rides along. It
ought not to be very long after arriving in the hunt-
ing territory before fresh venison and the meat of
larger game is hanging up in camp, wherefore, out-
side of pork and bacon, the principal foodstuffs to
be carried are nourishing cereals, dried fruits, sugar,
evaporated cream, tea, and coffee. Also extra salt
for preserving skins.
One's personal outfit should be very complete,
not in luxuries but in essentials, such as a fine belt-
axe, a keen skinning-knife, compass, rifle-cleaning
outfit, medicine-kit, and above all a good emergency
< a
O 13
g !
KINDS OF CAMPS 19
ration in a tin container, that can be used in a pinch
as a cooking utensil. Your chances of being left
out all night are very good in that country; you may
follow a hot trail until sundown before you catch
up with your animal, and then you will most likely
be lost as far as camp is concerned and have so
much to do that it will be best to den up for the
night right at the kill. Here is where the belt-axe,
the skinning-knife, the emergency ration, and the
compass all become essentials.
Swinging our camera southward for a thousand
miles, Scene Six appears upon the screen, a limitless
arid region, teeming with animal and vegetable life,
even though no visible water is apparent. The
roughest sort of bald, rugged, volcanic rock forms
the going underfoot, and the mountains all about
are made of it. The game is there, in those moun-
tains, cougar and white-tailed deer, and the coun-
try itself is enough to tempt any red-blooded, ad-
venturous man to match his wits against it, and get
that game. It is a country of great purple distances,
of weird and thorny vegetation, of endless level
plains, always with a horizon of bare, craggy moun-
tains or queer, flat-topped mesas. The days are
scorching hot and the nights of intense, frosty cold;
sometimes visited by heavy thunder-showers, occa-
sionally by a rainy drizzle, but usually of a brazen
blueness shimmering in the desert heat. An iron
20 CAMP CRAFT
country, yet one fascinating to every outdoorsman
who camps in it (not races across it in a high-powered
car), who leaves the desert road and camps up in
the hills and arroyos. If any tent at all is taken, it
will be a closed one, for your cave-like, open tent is
likely to attract all the reptilian hfe of your vicinity,
who appreciate your warmth and your shelter but
do not understand your sudden, startled uprising in
the morning, and therefore bite. More often the
wind-proof, rain-proof, and snake-proof sleeping-
bag is the only habitation carried, and if it storms
or drizzles, there is the "tarp" to pull over your faces
as you sleep, all in a row with your feet to the
smouldering fire, while the coyotes howl at you
from the neighboring hills. As water is from 30
to 50 miles apart, it is obviously not the country
for the foot hiker, unless he leads a burro with his
camping paraphernaHa, horse feed, and water packed
on his back. The best way to live, move, and have
your being in that country is riding a saddle-horse
and leading a pack-horse, or a string of them tied
tail to halter, depending upon how far you are
going. Wood is reasonably plentiful, and sage for
browse, so your pack-horse will carry your sleeping-
bag, your extra clothes (sure to be wanted soon after
sundown), your provisions, water-bottles, and horse
feed (oats and bran to supplement the scant desert
fare), and if you have a tent at all let it be a light
KINDS OF CAMPS 21
one with either a canvas sill or a closed front and
a ground-cloth sewn to the tent bottom, all around.
Unless you are crossing a country where brooks trav-
erse your trail, so that one cannot miss the water,
it is essential to have a guide who knows the water-
holes and "tanks."
Last scene of all, the camera swings 3,ocx) miles to
the north, and there appears Scene Seven, a picture of
vast, snowy wastes, over rolling country, with all trails
hidden far below, and the going is by snow-shoes and
toboggan, or sledge with a team of dogs for the mo-
tive power. In fact, in all countries where the trip
is entirely over snow, no matter what its depth, a
toboggan or a team and sledge with upstanders to
steer and push on is an essential part of the equip-
ment, for the cold is so intense that the sleeping-rig
and outfit for any distance of travel makes a back
pack out of the question. Of course, a short trip
on snow-shoes with a knapsack and a light llama
wool arctic sleeping-bag, light tent, etc., can be
made, and the lone hike hauling a toboggan also an-
swers for the transportation problem without any
aid from dogs; but in the long run they are the
logical answer, and have proven so all over Alaska,
in arctic exploration trips, and wherever introduced
in eastern Canada. The breed does not matter, pro-
vided they have thick, hairy coats and are naturally
hardy — Airedales haul many a mail sledge in Alaska
22 CAMP CRAFT
to-day, working right in with the native Malamutes;
such a dog as the hound or pointer, with short,
smooth hair would hardly answer. The harness de-
veloped by the Eskimos after centuries of usage is
not at all what a white man would naturally cobble
up if left to his own devices. It is simply two large
loops of soft sealskin passing under the dog's fore
legs and meeting over his tail in the trace knot.
Joining these loops are two short straps, one passing
over the back of the neck and the other tying across
his chest when the harness is put on. So equipped,
the dog can exert his maximum pulling strength,
the pull to him being much the same as the shoulder-
straps of a knapsack upon the chest and shoulder
muscles of a man; he is free to pull in any direction,
so as to turn the sledge without the harness chafing;
he can fight, romp, wag his tail, eat, do anything he
wants to without interfering with the business part
of his harness, and it has but the one tie across his
chest to put it on and take it ofF.
Except in extreme colds, where the snow igloo is
the only thing, a dark-dyed spike-tent of light fabric
is the standard equipment, so chosen because with
a little ventilating flap at the peak it will sleep four
men in a bunch, requires only one pole in a country
where a jointed pole must be carried (there being
no such thing as a tree of sufficient height to make
one); further because this tent's steep sides make
KINDS OF CAMPS 23
it shed snow easily with but a tap from inside, and
still further because it gives the greatest enclosed
cubic room for the least canvas carried.
For warmth, sometimes natural fuel can be had,
but as a rule the spirit lamp and wood alcohol is
relied upon as being quicker and surer, more es-
pecially as it can be used inside the tent, where any
wood fire cannot because of the ground-cloth, which
is essential in this kind of camping and is perma-
nently sewed to the tent. With proper fur or wool
clothing and wool sleeping-bag one is adequately
protected against the extreme cold, and the prin-
cipal thing to guard against for outside work on
the trail is exposed metal touching the bare skin.
Even the rifle barrel should be cord wound from
muzzle to wood fore end, with its protective wood
covering on the upper side of the barrel — this to
prevent one's bare hand freezing to the barrel if
inadvertently grasped when the temperatures are
well below zero.
The foodstuflTs to be carried on such a trip are
such concentrated meats as pemmican and jerky,
dried vegetables and soup-greens, which make fifteen
times their weight of cooked food when boiled in
snow water; erbswurst, the iron ration of the Ger-
man army; tea and sugar — lots of the latter, for
all outdoorsmen crave it when working hard in cold
temperatures. Dried soup-powders, corn-meal, etc.,
24 CAMP CRAFT
form the cereals, the object being to take along only
that which cooks quickly, for fuel is precious, and
anything that takes over half an hour to cook is too
extravagant of the spirit-lamp supplies. For the
dogs, dried fish and meat, one-ounce ration per
pound of dog per day, must be carried.
Somewhat farther south, where the timber still
exists, these conditions modify somewhat: beans
and rice can be cooked from the natural raw article
without precooking, as is done with the prepared
powders; balsam and spruce are available for bed-
ding, and one camps in a howling blizzard, cutting
layers of their browse, which are first spread upon
the snow and the tent set up on them, a camp-fire
built on logs laid on the snow, and the teakettle
(which is always carried alone and handy at the
front of the toboggan) is put over to boil. A small
folding tent-stove is set up inside the tent on logs
or stones, and corn bread can be baked and meat
fried, much as in camp life in the ordinary hunting
zones.
To the camper who can travel and subsist under
these conditions should be awarded the crown, for
the least mistake in not making one's return cache
wolverene-proof, for instance, or in letting valuable
game chances slip by, may result in starvation, and
loss of any essential part of the equipment may end
in freezing to death. Only veterans should attempt
KINDS OF CAMPS 25
it, for once well in 600 or 700 miles from a railroad
and a goodly dist^ance from the nearest Hudson Bay
post, there is no turning back, and mistakes count
for life or death.
Aside from the joy of visiting or exploring new
country and seeing wild life in abundance, prac-
tically all that makes the winter camp and trail
fascinating can be experienced in any of our northern
forests, within easy reach of rail or trapper's cabin
in case of misfortune. There is a zest and an in-
vigoration about midwinter camping that puts it
far ahead of the summer equivalent to many hardy
souls well provided with the proper equipment, for
all insect troubles vanish, no rainy spells intervene
to stop all outdoor enjoyment, the going is pleasant
and easy, particularly over the frozen and snow-
clad surface of some waterway, and there is a sparkle
in the winter air and a coseyness about a well-man-
aged snow camp that no other season can give.
We hear much of the long-closed season, when the
outdoorsman is cooped up in his office, but even if
it be but for a few days, every outdoorsman should
make it a point to spend some of his time under
canvas during every month of the year — spring,
summer, fall, and winter.
CHAPTER II
TENTS
THE principal function of a tent is to make a
real "woodser" of you. A shack or a log
cabin, located in the heart of the woods, will shelter
you from the elements and put you in reasonable
touch with the sights and sounds and smells of the
wilderness, but you are not of it, not in the real
heart of the wild life, nor will a year in a cabin be
as beneficial to your health as thirty days in a tent.
The reason is that, day and night, there is a constant
seepage of the fresh ozone of the forest through the
texture of the tent wall, neither draft nor stagna-
tion, but a constant change of air. The fresh, fine
woods aroma is not barred out by log or clapboard,
nor yet does it blow over you in chilling drafts as
in an open-air bivouac or under a single sheet of
shelter cloth. I never regarded the latter as any-
thing but an unnecessary outdoor hardship, and the
cabin I have always considered as anything but a
luxury when there was a possible choice of a tent
to sleep in.
Styles, sizes, and materials of tents vary greatly
according to the climate, number in the party, and
26
TENTS 27
transportation possibilities. Every different style
of going has its own best kind of tent, and this in its
turn is modified by temperatures, wood supply, and
available time for camp-making. There is a ten-
dency among modern writers, following doubtless
the lead of Nessmuk, to pooh-pooh the wall-tent as
unsuited for anything but army conditions. But it
is a significant fact that practically all the trappers,
lumbermen, and herb men who live in the woods
use the benighted wall-tent, and the Indian abandons
his teepee for it just as soon as he can afford to buy
one. Why ? Because for a permanent camp it is
the most practical form of shelter yet devised, and
with a tent-stove and brush or snow protection it
will defy cold better than any teepee or Sibley ever
built. It is quickly and easily put up with a ridge-
pole and a pair of shears outside — those who carry
tent-pioles do not know the game — it does not need
any "fly" overhead with modern tent textiles, and
for its weight it gives the maximum available cubic
space inside. The commercial sizes of wall-tents
run from the little 4^ x 6>^-foot affair for two men
up to the 15 X 17^-foot size, taking five camp-cots
along both walls. There are, of course, larger sizes
for lumber crews, etc., but in camping-party sizes
the 9x11, 12x14, ^"^ 14x16 about fill the bill.
In water-proof flax their weights run from 19 pounds
to 81, light green cloths weigh from 10 pounds for
28 CAMP CRAFT
the 8x8 tent to 56 pounds for the 12 x 14 in water-
proof duck. The above weight should convince you
that the wall-tent is not the thing for back-pack trips,
nor for one-night-stand canoe trips, nor for a no-
madic pack trip for a hunting-party of six or eight
men. A tent is an indivisible load, and in large
sizes a very bulky one. With a boat, buckboard,
or pack-horse to transport the tent, a large one for
a party has the advantage that its stove will keep
the chill ofF all night, and it is the thing to have for
a permanent base camp of several weeks' duration.
The stove for it is of light sheet iron, in sizes
10 X 11x18, 10x11x25, ^^^ 10x12x32 inches.
Weights run from 15 to 20 pounds. These stoves
are regularly made without a bottom, being intended
to be set on a stone hearth and to fold for trans-
portation into a flat parcel. With them is furnished
a telescopic pipe of five 2-foot lengths of sheet-iron
pipe, the weight of which is included in the totals
given above. It is essential to have a spark-arrester
with it, for the sparks from a camp-stove are tiny
hot embers, and will surely burn holes in the tent
when they descend.
However, with a stove and a large wall-tent, a
party of hunters or a man and his family are well
fixed for comfortable living outdoors — better than the
Indian is with his teepee, and far more healthily than
the man in a mouldy log cabin or a drafty shack.
TENTS 29
The beauty of the camp-stove is that it runs all
night. In principle it is a charcoal-making machine,
with very Httle draft, and slow, steady combustion.
You will have lots of difficulty with it on starting
up for lack of sufficient draft, and the surest way
to invite trouble is to fill it full of small kindlings
and then touch it off, for it will at once smother it-
self because there is not enough air to support the
flames. But go at it gradually, until you have a
bed of live coals, and then you have an excellent
fire for slow cooking, roasting, and baking, and you
can feed it short logs ad lib., with no necessity to be
forever rustling small fuel as with the open camp-
fire. At night fill the stove up with logs. The
lower ones resting on the bed of live coals burn as
fast as the limited draft of air will permit, while all
the rest turn to charcoal and burn slowly in their
turn. As this is a process of hours, the stove gives
a steady heat all night, and is in fine shape for bacon
and coffee and flapjacks in the morning.
Contrast this with fife in the teepee in cold weather.
I have often slept in them, the following experience
being typical of a night spent in one: A sturdy fire,
three times the size of a camp-stove, ate up a goodly
pile of timber and maintained an acrid eye-watering
atmosphere in the teepee, even though all its visible
smoke was carried out by the draft cloth, which
is arranged opposite the smoke flaps in every well-
30 CAMP CRAFT
ordered teepee. About eleven o'clock the party
turned in. By twelve the fire was down to embers,
and cold blasts whistled up the draft cloth and out
the smoke flaps. It was Hke sleeping in a chimney.
My blanket bag was next the draft cloth and I
got all the trimmings — maybe it wasn't cold ! Vd
far rather have buried the bag in a leaf pile in the
woods outside. I got off to sleep about i A. M.,
and was wakened by the honking of wild geese
pitching down into the lake in the dark before dawn.
Orion had swung around, and I could see the whole
of him through the top of the teepee. The cold of
space radiated straight down onto us. You might
as well have slept outdoors ! The temperature was
about plus 20, and there was ice inches deep in
every pail in the teepee, and the fire had turned
into a dead-white heap of ashes.
It was very poetic, of course. The Red Gods
loomed large overhead, and their voices echoed down
the lake in the stentorian honking of the Canada
geese. We were living in the red man's home since
time immemorial, on ground where trod Uncas and
Chingachgook and Quonab. They probably slept
under piles of caribou skins. I was using a blanket
bag that I know is comfortable at plus 2, provided
that you keep drafts off it, but in that teepee the
bag was cold at plus 20. Two weeks later the same
party were out in a white man's wall-tent 14 x 16
AUTOMOBILE TENTS DESIGNED TO FASTEN TO CAR FRAME.
THE RED MAN'S TEEPEE.
TENTS 31
feet, with a 10 x 11 x 25-inch stove — and life was
worth Hving again !
For a nomadic moving camp, or one reached by
canoe or pack tramp, the style of tent changes.
You want something Hght — not over 5 pounds for a
capacity of two or three men, and if there are six
in the party, take two tents. These can be had in
closed and open types, "J ^'J feet and 9x7 feet
being the popular sizes. Weights run from 3 to il
pounds in modern tent textiles. For a hunting-
party of four men, I should consider a 7 x 9 Baker
shelter-tent, weighing 12 pounds in balloon silk, to
be a good investment. It has become standard for
north woods and Canada hunting and fishing parties.
Even though drafty, cold, hard to put up, hard
to keep insects out of without a bulky roll of bob-
binet big enough to cover the entire front, it has
much to be said for it. Its front veranda makes
a night fire in front a long-distance proposition, and
to trench it properly is not an easy matter on the
average wilderness camp site; yet, with these known
ailments, it has the undeniable advantages of quickly
and easily sheltering four men and their duffel, with
headroom enough to stand up in or sit down in on
camp-chairs (if you insist on that kind of comfort);
it does reflect the camp-fire heat-rays, and if it rains
you can rig out the front fly and have a comfortable
sort of porch to lounge under. In a snow-storm
32 CAMP CRAFT
unless some one keeps the snow from accumulating,
it will soon get you into a variety of troubles, due
to the weight of the snow on the roof.
For pack tramp, canoe portage, and all types of
travel trips, two or more open pyramidal tents of
the Forester, canoe, or automobile type are prefera-
ble, for the same party can then separate to hunt or
explore different territory in the same region, each
pair, hunter and guide, taking a tent with them, and
these small tents are infinitely cosier, warmer, less
drafty and less trouble to put up than the larger
lean-to or wall-tent. The weights run from 3 to
16 pounds, and floor areas about 8x8 feet. The
automobile type requires a single 8-foot pole in
front, and its rear corners are guyed out to the
body of the automobile. The angles of side and
back reflect the heat-rays fairly accurately, but with
its front open it would be too roomy and drafty
for winter camping. The floor space of the smallest
size is 8 feet 9 inches by 7 feet 4 inches, with a rear
wall 4>^ feet high — a tent big enough to sleep four
men and weighing ijyi pounds.
The canoe-tent is of much the same shape and
uses a front pole with its rear corners guyed to high
stakes. Its front pegs out round, but enough of the
entrance flap can be thrown back to admit the fire
heat-rays. Smallest size, 6 feet 6 inches by 4 feet
9 inches, floor area, with 2-foot back wall, weight,
TENTS 33
6}4 pounds. It requires no front guy, as does the
automobile type, because the pegs taking the front
slope of the tent produce the necessary forward
strain to counteract the rear guys. It takes i6 pegs.
Among the special forms of light camping-tents
may be mentioned the canoe-tent with ridge-pole,
the Vreeland tent, and the Camp Fire tent. The
ridge type of canoe-tent is, in effect, an extension of
the old style, the addition consisting of about a
yard of material running up to a ridge instead of a
peak. This ridge is held up by a short club by means
of tapes, and a pair of shears is put up over the tent,
with a short rope to hold up the ridge. The for-
ward strain of the front face of the canoe-tent and
the rear strain of its rear guy-ropes react on the
club and shears to form a triangular strain which
holds the tent up. It has somewhat more available
space than the older form and considerably more
headroom. It is made in sizes from 6% feet by
4J^ feet up to 8 feet hy Gyi feet, with weights from
6% to lo pounds. Sizes do not include circular ends.
Vreeland's tent is developed evidently from the
Nessmuk shanty-tent. It is made in one size, 8
feet deep by 6 feet wide; height in front 6 feet,
back 2 feet. It will sleep three men easily. It
uses a ridge-pole and pair of shears, and the sides
are guyed out by ropes, making the side walls very
steep.
34 CAMP CRAFT
The "Camp Fire" or "Dan Beard" tent is
practically a wall-tent with one side sheared ofF
about 2 feet beyond the ridge. The place of this
side is then taken by a veranda flap, which can be
closed down or else guyed out horizontally, permit-
ting an open camp-fire in front. It has the advan-
tage of plenty of headroom, besides being rain-proof.
It is put up with two pairs of shears, ridge-pole, and
high stakes for the wall guys. The smallest size
made is Gyi feet by 4^^ feet, weight 5>^ pounds.
A larger size is 8 feet by 6}4 feet, weight 10 pounds.
The Forester is the lightest and warmest of them
all. I designed it ten years ago as a protest against
the draftiness and lack of coseyness of the sheet
lean-to. I wanted something in which all the walls
of the tent would reflect the fire heat-rays down on
the occupant. It is a well-known scientific fact that
heat-rays travel through the air without losing ap-
preciably of their warmth until they strike some
absorbent or reflecting body. A flat, smooth sur-
face like a tent wall will reflect a heat-ray without
absorbing much of it, and the angles of the Forester
were calculated with these principles in mind.
The sincerest compliment ever paid me as to its
warmth was on a hunting trip where three small
open tents surrounded the camp-fire. The hound
pack always collected in my tent — every dog of
them, although a special bed had been arranged
TENTS 35
for them in one of the other tents, and they were
perfectly free to occupy any one they chose. Re-
turning home I would boot them all out and turn in,
but in an hour they would all be back one by one,
creeping in and curling up alongside my sleeping-
bag. Those hounds had neither flattery nor criti-
cism to oflFer, they were simply looking for the warm-
est tent 1
To put up the Forester requires 8 pegs and 3
poles — a ridge-pole and a pair of shears. The ridge
should be about 12 feet long and reasonably straight,
the shears 10 feet and as crooked as you please. I
never saw yet, in the U. S. A., a country where these
3 poles could not be had in any thicket in five min-
utes, and I have been camping steadily in the
original Forester for over nine years. The ridge-
pole passes down inside the tent and out through a
small hole in the rear peak. You thrust this end
into the ground and rest the other in the shears,
peg out the sides, and the tent is up. Time, ten
minutes. Some of the outfitters furnish it with
tapes so that the ridge-pole can go outside. I do
not fancy this as it destroys the stanchness and
rigidity of the tent; there is nothing to tie your
mosquito-veil to inside and no way to spread the
tent inside in case two men are using it. In case I
have a guest, I cut a hickory switch a yard long and
slip it under the ridge-pole, and then turn it at right
36 CAMP CRAFT
angles so that it will make a spreader, up about
where your head will come. So arranged, there will
be plenty of room for two sleeping-bags. The mos-
quito-bar is a 3^-foot triangular piece of bobbinet
with a canvas edge along each side. It weighs 4
ounces and takes up about as much room as a sock.
I fasten the peak of this on each side of the ridge-
pole, about 4 feet from the rear peak, and peg down
the canvas edges so that they fit snugly along the
tent walls. The bobbinet has a gore let in the
centre so that there is plenty of freedom to lift it
up and then tuck it around the sleeping-bags after
you are inside. Many's the night I have dozed off to
sleep with a howling chorus of insects buzzing around
just out of reach of vulnerable points of attack, with
that little bobbinet triangle all that intervened be-
tween peace and misery ! With the ridge-pole out-
side it would puzzle you some to work this scheme.
Attached to the front edges of the Forester is a
hood which can be laced up at night. It does not
entirely close in the front of the tent, as there is
still a low opening for the fire heat to strike in, but
it does prevent rain driving in and saves you turning
the tent around or cutting leafy branches to pre-
vent a driving storm reaching you, as I often did
before the hood was thought out. It also holds the
heat in the tent where formerly a steady flow of
heat went out along the ridge. Some of the manu-
TENTS 37
facturers have added a sod-cloth. Why have this
extra weight, bulk, and fussiness ? Surely it's no
trouble to bank up a few leaves or pine-needles along
the sides after pegging down, not forgetting to throw
on a branch or two to keep them from blowing away.
Never carry anything into the woods that you can
easily make with the materials ready to hand.
I have devoted this much space to the Forester
because any one can make it of ordinary department-
store 8-ounce duck, sewed up on a domestic sewing-
machine, and get a serviceable, strong, weather-
proof tent, weighing 6 pounds with the hood and
covering a triangular floor space 7 feet 8 inches on
a side. It takes 13 yards of canvas, and the angles
are tan. 15 and tan. 8 for peak and foot. The height
at the ridge and shears should not exceed 5 feet 6
inches when set up. I gave this tent to the outdoor
fraternity over nine years ago. It is free to all, and
I have no financial interest whatever in any of the
various makers who are now selling it — in fact, only
one of them has been man enough to even credit
me with being its designer.
The closed types of tents offer a fascinating field
for study and experiment. An open tent requires
an all-night fire in severe weather, and such a fire
one can get with an hour's work with a camp-axe,
cutting twenty 5-inch logs 3 feet long, and building
a Nessmuk fire with backlogs and andirons. But
38 CAMP CRAFT
on hunting trips, where every hour of daylight is
used in the pursuit of game and you come home too
tired to do more than cook supper, to chop a supply
of night wood is out of the question. You have,
then, the other alternative — conserving your own
bodily heat. A good sleeping-bag, not too heavy
to pack on your back along with tent and provisions,
will keep you warm, in a tight tent free from drafts.
Don't worry about ventilation — ^there will be ample
seepage of fresh air. A tent-stove using camp-made
charcoal, 12 inches high and 12 inches in diameter,
weighs II pounds and can be taken along and used as
case for your cooking outfit; or a 4J^-pound heater,
burning specially prepared briquets lasting 10 to 15
hours, will serve to take ofF the extreme chill. A
dozen of these briquets, weighing yj^ pounds to the
dozen, cost seventj^-five cents and will last for two
weeks, and there is no smoke, flame, or gas to con-
tend with. To my mind the best tents of this
type are the Hudson Bay, Snow, and Miner's.
The weights in modern tent fabrics run: Hudson
Bay, 4x7 feet, 4 pounds; Snow, 6x7 feet, 5
pounds; Miner's, 7 feet 4 inches by 7 feet 4 inches,
7J^ pounds; Frazer, 8 feet 9 inches b)^ 8 feet 9 inches,
10^ pounds. These tents have the further advan-
tage that one can stand upright in them, or sit down
in camp-chairs or on cots during "enforced indoor
weather" (whatever that may be), and are all the
h .
o a
CO S
M «
TENTS 39
better for a bobbinet tent window in the back wall
to afford a view.
However, there's no denying the convenience of a
canvas veranda, and if you want a stretcher or stick
bed in place of the well-filled browse-bag, you can have
two cots very quickly by putting logs across the front
and back of the tent, spiking to them straight poles,
which are slipped through the pockets of the stretcher
beds. But don't neglect even then a browse-bag,
filled with an inch or so of dry leaves or evergreen
needles. No canvas bed or hammock is warm or
even comfortable without some sort of a mattress,
and if you make it of nature's materials you have
that much more blanket available to pile above
you — ^which is always the coolest side. The so-
called Snow tent resembles a Miner's, except that
it has a short ridge which is held by a club and bridle
outside. It thus has steep snow-shedding slopes,
and considerable headroom, a desirable feature when
one wishes to work indoors skinning and mounting
specimens, making and labelling scientific collections,
etc. It is best put up with two pairs of shears, sup-
porting the club to which the ridge is taped. In
Japanese silk, a 7 x 8 x 8-foot headroom tent will
weigh about 6 pounds.
The Miner's tent seems to be standard for cold,
snowy countries, where timber is scarce or wanting.
Peary's parties used them throughout their expedi-
40 CAMP CRAFT
tions, only abandoning them for the warmer Eskimo
igloo during the long winter night. They used
alcohol-lamps for warmth, and found the tent good
down to about 30 below zero. Below that the igloo !
It uses a single 7-foot jointed pole in the centre,
and some manufacturers call for 24 stakes, which
seems considerable of a hardship. The Miner's
come in four sizes, from 6 feet 6 inches by 6 feet 6
inches up to 10 feet 3 inches by 10 feet 3 inches;
heights 7 to 9 feet, and weights j}^ to 12% pounds.
The floor space is not particularly available, the
headroom is restricted, and I should regard them
more as a special cold-weather tent for special ter-
ritories
And I have not much respect for the various out-
door sleeping-bags, hoods, and cubbj^-holes designed
to take the place of the tent. A cold wind blowing
over you all night will chill through the interstices
of any of these, and their outside canvas always
weighs more than a light tent. The weights run
from 10 pounds up to 21 pounds, cover about 4^
pounds — most of them heavier than this. They,
however, have an excellent place in the outdoor
world — on a travelling saddle trip, where the horse
carries your bag in a roll done up behind. At night-
fall you can bed up almost anywhere in a sheltered
nook or ravine, and if it rains or snows the bag will
protect you. It is in no sense a forest home, never-
TENTS 41
theless, and the user misses many a pleasant mem-
ory of tenting by night with a cheerful camp-fire in
front and the reflected heat warming him as he
attends to the many little camp duties, comfortable
and unhampered by heavy outer clothing, free to
loll back in his warm, light den and smoke the pipe
of peace while the flames mount higher and higher.
For such is the open-camp tent. Not a bivouac,
but a forest home. Not a cold, chill canvas box
into which you retire, to creep into an icy mountain
of blankets, which you will be hours warming up,
but rather — far rather — a bright, cosey retreat, with
the warmth of the camp-fire penetrating to its far-
thest recesses; a place of jollity and good fellow-
ship; a place where you can dream over the fire
flames in comfort. To me the open tent with the
backlog fire is the acme of forest life. I have
camped in teepee, wall-tent, A-tent, shack, shelter-
tent, lean-to, leaf pile, canoe-tent, and Forester, but
my pleasantest memories cluster around the open-
tent camps with a bright camp-fire in front. May
there be many more of them for us all before we
begin tenting beyond the Great Divide !
CHAPTER III
ELIMINATING THE BLANKET
THE principal difficulty with the blanket is not
its weight, but its bulk. It is not hard to
devise a light, warm, water-proof envelope to sleep
in, but when you come to pack it ! — well, by the time
it and your tent and your cook-kit are assembled
and a mountain of assorted clothes, provisions, and
dingbats are piled around these and rolled up in
one huge pack-cloth you begin to look like the rear
end of a moving van !
During twenty-seven years of camping, getting
out on the average four times a year, I have studied
the blanket problem from a number of different
angles, and tried out nearly every form of blanket
and quilt that has come into extensive use. One
and all they seemed to run excessively to bulk.
Take the army blanket, single thickness, 84 inches
by ^ inches, weight 5 pounds. You may roll it
into a sort of sausage, 7 feet long and 9 inches in
diameter. To keep it dry you add a rubber protector
also 7 feet long and 30 inches wide, weight 3 pounds,
having straps and buckles at intervals to hold the
roll in shape. What to do with this ungainly parcel
42
ELIMINATING THE BLANKET 43
IS a problem. If you loop it over your shoulder, as
was the fashion in the late, lamented C. S. A., there
is no way to put a pack on your back to hold the
tent, clothing, food, and duffel which you must also
carry. If you bend it around your knapsack, as in
the French army, the knapsack will have to be a
mighty bulky affair to afford 7 feet of periphery;
in fact, a European soldier in full campaign regalia
is fit for little else than marching along a state road,
certainly not for sustained wilderness travel.
The real wilderness travellers have solved the
problem, after a fashion, by stowing the blanket in
a tump-bag. There is just room left for a light tent,
and in the other bag can go provisions and duffel.
The two bags go side by side in a tump-harness,
making a not overcumbersome back pack. But
this is only one side of the story: arrange the
blanket as you will, there is but one thickness around
you, and this is not enough — not nearly enough —
for comfortable sleeping with the night temperature
even as high as 40 degrees. Below that you posi-
tively must have two thicknesses of blanket. So
we get the red Hudson Bay blanket (with the four
black bars !), 72 inches by 84 inches, weight 10
pounds, which can be doubled around one in a pinch;
also the double mackinaw, 72 inches by twice 90
inches, weight 10 pounds, and the various gray
doubles, usually twice 82 inches long by 72 inches
44 CAMP CRAFT
wide. These all require a whole tump-bag to pack
in, with precious little space to spare, and every-
thing else you take must go in the other bag.
Now, in the summer, early fall, and late spring
one can go as Nessmuk did, with a light knapsack
and a single blanket, total weight, including canoe,
not over 30 pounds; but I notice he usually denned
up about the time the first snows fell. If he had
stayed out later he would either have had to change
his rig or increase his weight, and as soon as he got
blankets enough his bulk would run out of hand for
lone-wilderness tramping. As I try to get out at
least once a month every month in the year, some
sort of a winter pack that would be warm yet total
under 35 pounds, including provisions, tent, duffel,
and ammunition, had to be devised.
My earliest experiments were in the line of in-
creasing the heat capacity of the single blanket. I
bought the finest English all-wool steamer rugs and
faced one with green galatea so as to add a thickness
of sheeting to it, thereby materially increasing its
warmth without adding appreciably to its bulk.
Then I added buttons and buttonholes so as to make
a sleeping-bag of it. Finally I added a light 8-ounce
duck bag envelope, and it was reasonably comfort-
able down to about 36 degrees. Done up as an
English shawl-strap, it made an impressive piece of
baggage when travelling, and in the woods you
ELIMINATING THE BLANKET 45
folded it with the water-proof envelope outside and
strapped it to the back of your tump-bag, a la Gar-
diner pack.
This rig even answered for hunting trips in No-
vember, provided that you built a night fire and
got up at I A. M. and 4 a. m. to replenish it.
From time to time, since then I have, camped with
friends who owned everything from a 30-pound
pneumatic sleeping-bag, cold at 40 degrees, to a
3>^-pound Arctic bag of llama wool, good down to
34 below zero. They were all fine in their way,
provided that you did not mind bulk and your
purse did not shy at twenty-five dollars' to thirty-
five dollars' expense for sleeping equipment. About
as good as any of them was a plain wool quilt, cost-
ing three dollars at any department store and much
used by miners and hunters in the Rockies. Lieu-
tenant Whelen used one of these on many of his
trips, he tells me.
Then Peary's experiments with fur, in his efforts
to eliminate the sleeping-bag and reduce weight and
condensation troubles, were published. Any fabric
that will soak up and hold moisture will at once
loose its heat-resisting capacity. Absolutely kiln-
dry cotton is nearly as impervious to heat as wool.
The figures are, in B. T. U. per square foot
per degree temperature for non-conductors i inch
thick:
46 CAMP CRAFT
B. T. U. Transmitted per Square Foot per Hour
PER Degree F.
Wool 36
Dry absorbent cotton 38
Raw cotton 46
Live-goose feathers 41
Hair felt 56
Still air 43
Scoured hair not felted 52
Water 335
(Siebel's "Compend of Mechanical Refrigeration.*')
You will note from the above that wool fabric
and dry absorbent cotton are the best non-con-
ductors, with the exception of certain furs such as
Arctic hare and baby caribou, neither of which have
been scientifically measured. But cotton in any
form will take up water in its cellular fibres, thereby
increasing its conductivity nearly ten times (water,
335 B. T. U.); and it will do this without being
actually wetted, as it takes up dampness from the
woods air. Any man who takes shoddy blankets
or cotton quilts into the woods with him will pay
dearly for it with cold, chilly sleeping, and rheuma-
tism the following winter.
Getting back to Peary: Eight years of living under
Arctic conditions convinced him that wool must be
discarded for fur, principally because any woven
fabric will hold condensation, while fur will not.
Even fur sleeping-bags were discarded because they
ELIMINATING THE BLANKET 47
would accumulate moisture from the body, and be-
come heavy and conductive to heat. Bodily exer-
cise during the day automatically dries its own per-
spiration if no violent exercise is undertaken just
before retiring. Now, as any camper will tell you,
the most vulnerable part of your body as regards
cold is from your knees to your hips, a distance
on the average man of about two feet. The feet
and shanks are easily taken care of with wool socks
and night sHppers; and the upper part of your body
lies close around the centre of combustion — your
lungs; so no especial covering is needed there. Fol-
lowing these considerations, the night rig of the Peary
party boiled down to a simple piece of fur, 2 feet
wide by 4 feet long, which was wrapped around the
hips, reaching down to the knees. From there on
night socks of the fur of the Arctic hare presided
over their pedal extremities, and for the upper part
of the body the kooletah, or hooded fur shirt, was
made so that one could withdraw his arms from its
sleeves and fold them across one's main decks when
sleeping, drawing also the pucker string at the bot-
tom of the shirt and at the hood to make the rig
air-tight. Thus equipped, Peary's people got rid of
40 pounds of damp fur sleeping-bags per man, and
were able to turn in on a snow-bank at 54 below
zero and sleep comfortably.
Now, while an Arctic party dressed in furs and
48 CAMP CRAFT
nothing else except light wool undergarments can
sleep in their day clothes, with ordinary outing-rig —
corduroy, forestry cloth, or loden — one cannot so sleep
with any warmth or comfort. There is sure to be
condensed perspiration, to say nothing of external
wetting from showers, wet underbrush, paddle drip-
pings, and the like; and the surest way to be cold
is to try to sleep with a coat on. However, I saw no
reason why some of the day clothing could not be
made to do duty at night, and that piece of 2 x 4
appealed to me as being exactly right to make a
knapsack of. In fact, if made 2 feet wide by 5 feet
long, it is still better, as you want at least a foot
of flap left over after lacing up into a bag 2 feet
square. The scheme promised emancipation from
the blanket, greater warmth, and a more compact
pack, besides reduction of weight, for I had not only
eliminated the blanket but the tump-bag also.
To make such a bag I got 5 feet of heavy i6-ounce
ship cotton duck, 22 inches wide, and put in a line
of ^-inch grommets, spaced 3 inches apart, around
the four sides. To line it I used, as a substitute for
fur, wool quilting 26 inches wide by 5 feet long. I
could not find any such quilting with narrow rib
seams running across it so that it would fold easily
without bunching, so it had to be made of batting,
ribbed up on the house sewing-machine and finished
oflT with tape edging. I first bought and tried the
ELIMINATING THE BLANKET 49
cotton quilting that is made up like this and sold
for table covering, but after a week in the woods it
grew damp and cold, and there was no living with it.
The first trial of this rig was entirely a la Peary.
I used an extra pair of wool socks, which I put on
at night, and over them bed slippers, also of fine
wool. I laced the 26-inch by 60-inch pack about
my hips, reaching from them down to meet the socks
below my knees, and topped off with my hunting-
jacket tucked around my shoulders and extending
below my waist.
The rig was a great improvement over the single
blanket, being entirely comfortable at such night
temperatures as one encounters in May and October
in the mountains of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and
southern New York.
The Camp Fire Club boys had a lot of fun over
it, as they always do when any one ventures his
person in the development of something new in the
outdoor game. They dubbed it the "Belly-band
pack," and predicted a prompt return-ticket to the
madhouse if I ever took it to Canada.
I stood pat and returned the horse-laughs with
sticks and stones. The pack-blanket weighed 2
pounds and held my tent, browse-bag, extra cloth-
ing, bulk provisions, camera, and miscellaneous small
duffel-bag. The cook-kit went on top of it, a parcel
7-inch diameter by 14 inches long, in a brown galatea
so CAMP CRAFT
bag, which was the pillow bag by night. The cook-
kit held all condensed provisions, dishes, pails, etc.,
and the entire pack with two weeks' provisions
weighed 31^ pounds. I carried it 7 miles over hill
and forest the first time I used it, and accommodated
myself and a guest for a four-day tramping and
fishing trip with it.
I do not beUeve this rig would be comfortable, as
I first used it, much below 38 degrees, though Fve
never given it a trial at low temperatures. It
seemed too vulnerable; the mitt principle was lack-
ing. Your fingers in a mitt bag will be warm at
unheard-of temperatures; separate them, each finger
in the same thickness of wool, and they will freeze.
In the same way a man's body in a sleeping-bag will
be warm; while, dressed in clothing, no matter how
thick, he will freeze. All of which the Camp Fire
boys were not bashful about pointing out to the
lunatic who was experimenting with *' belly bands."
All of which I granted, admitted, acquiesced in,
allowed might be so, conformed to — and then I
sprang a surprise on them overnight. If you turn
the pack lengthwise and lace it to your browse-bag,
you will immediately make of the combination a very
respectable sleeping-bag. Well, why not ? You
had to have the browse-bag anyway. Why not use
the pack-blanket in combination with it, instead of
around you as a "belly band" ? So I said nothing,
ELIMINATING THE BLANKET 51
but put the idea into practice. Profound approba-
tion. I did not tell the erstwhile sceptics that the
experiment was a partial failure, because the 26-inch
quilting was not wide enough to lace up and yet
leave sufficient overlap on each side to make the
bag air-tight. I had to have more width to get
enough overlap. So I added a piece of single army
blanketing, 30 inches by 60 inches, weight 2 pounds.
This was sewed to the pack just inside the lines of
grommets, i inch from the edge. The quilting was
left in as before. The 6-inch overlap on each side
made the bag air-tight, and it was warm and com-
fortable during a two weeks' trip in December, with
the temperatures ranging from plus 2 to plus 24,
never as high as plus 32, or freezing. To make up
into a pack, fold the overlap inward, flat and smooth,
next lace up with the pack thong, making a bag 2
feet square with a foot length of flap left over. Fold
up the tent into a parcel 20 inches long by 5 inches
by 6 inches cross-section. This goes in the bottom
of the pack, giving it its shape. The browse-bag is
emptied of its leaves or needles and rolled up. It
is 30 inches by 72 inches, with 8-ounce duck, bottom
face, and unbleached muslin upper face. It has a
row of grommets 3 inches apart along each side and
the foot, and a short thong of No. 36 tarpon line for
lacing. It rolls up into a package 20 inches long
by 3 inches diameter and weighs 2 pounds, with a
52 CAMP CRAFT
30-by-6o-inch facing of army blanket sewed inside
the bag. It goes into the pack on top of the tent,
and there is room alongside it for a rubber floor-cloth,
2 feet by 4 feet 6 inches, a pair of socks, and camp
mocs. The next things to go in are the ammunition
bag and the "dry poke." These are canvas bags
about 4 inches diameter by 10 inches high when
filled and tied, and one of them holds assorted shot-
gun and rifle shells, and the other the night socks,
bed slippers, extra *baccy, extra plain socks, film
packs, and reserve matches. The top space of the
pack takes a bag of bulk provisions, camera, and
miscellaneous duff'el-bag. This fills the pack, the
flap of which is forthwith laced down with the end
of the pack thong.
On top of the pack is strapped the cook-kit by
means of a pair of i-inch straps, starting from the
upper D rings of the main pack-harness, passing
over the kit and securing in buckles on the front of
the pack. The kit consists of two aluminum pails,
7 inches by 6 inches, with covers which are held on
by snap bales. The two pots go back to back in a
tight-fitting brown galatea bag, with a pucker string,
and at night this bag is filled with browse for a pillow.
Inside one pot are four shallow tin eating dishes,
fork and spoon, rice, corn-meal, sugar, baking-powder
and dried vegetable bags, bouillon capsules, salt and
match tins. In the second pot are a tea-pail and the
- - :- : - -- -:- w'-f'*'' :'-"":
WK^^^^i
,M^ ,
1
Oh
Q
w
u
O
ELIMINATING THE BLANKET 53
egg, coffee, and butter cans, with such soup-stock
as macaroni, dried onions, erbswurst, dried meats,
soup-powders, and the like filling the interstices.
The main pack takes bulk provisions, usually pan-
cake flour, plain flour, evaporated cream, pork,
bacon, and codfish.
When you see the sun showing symptoms of set-
ting, it is customary to put out a wary eye for a
spring or a rivulet and a grove to camp in. Having
found the spot, the first move is to lean the rifle
against a tree and take oflT the ditty-bag and hang
it over the rifle muzzle or from a neighboring twig.
The next thing is to unbuckle the camp-axe from
one's belt and cut three long, slender saplings from
the nearest thicket. The cook-kit is then unstrapped
and set aside, the pack opened, the tent pulled out,
and in a few moments it is up. Next, an energetic
clearing out of stubs, roots, rocks, and other offend-
ers is in order, and then we go skirmishing for browse
with the browse-bag.
Shades of Nessmuk and his beloved balsam !
Balsam, pine, or any fresh green browse is too cold
and too slow for me, a few inches of plebeian dead
leaves or dry pine-needles are warmer and better.
"How about when the woods are soggy and wet V*
asks the man from Missouri. In that case we do
not fill the browse-bag at all. Just hunt up a hem-
lock or pitch-pine, give it a rap or two with the axe
54 CAMP CRAFT
to clear off the rain-drops, and then pick a bed of
browse, over which is spread the rubber ground-cloth,
and on that the browse-bag.
To resume the operation of making camp for the
night: returning from the browse foray, the 2x5
rubber ground-cloth is spread out along the north
wall of the tent and on it is laid the browse-bag,
open and toward the back of the tent. Next you
lie on it for a few minutes, reaching in and straight-
ening out any undue lumps of browse and arranging
suitable hollows where your hips and shoulders come.
Then the pack is unlaced and spread lengthwise on
the browse-bag. The latter, being 30 inches wide,
will curl in toward the edges of the pack as you lace
up both edges and the bottom, and the total envelope
around you will be 52 inches, not including 4 inches
of blanket which overlap inside along both sides,
making the bag effectually air-tight against drafts.
To seal up the bottom, I usually drive in two stakes
and lay my shotgun in its case across the foot of
the bed, but a short billet of wood or an ammunition
bag will do as well. It is, of course, laced across the
bottom besides a flap of blanket for a seal, but some
solid affair to brace one's feet against is apt to be
well patronized after once trying it.
Having attended to these matters, the next task
is supper. The pillow bag is stripped off the two
pots and filled with browse; black-jack oak or
ELIMINATING THE BLANKET 55
yellow birch cut for the cook fire, and the dingle
stick cut and set up. Presently the tea-pail is siz-
zling, and pot No. i, with a couple of quarts of soup,
is bubbling away merrily. Pot No. 2 will be doing
rice, and one large biscuit is rising in two of the tins
disguised as an oven, one being inverted over the
other. The pots, by the way, hang from the stick
by chain hooks which hook through the flat handles
on the pot covers. These latter are held securely to
the pot by their snap bales, but not so tight as to
prevent the steam escaping.
Supper over and the utensils cleaned and scoured,
comes the hour of bright camp-fire and chat with
your bunky, and soon you get sleepy. You stay
awake long enough to drive in a couple of stakes in
front of the tent and stick the cruiser mocs on them,
and then you set about turning in in earnest. OfF
come the day lumberman's socks, and the best place
for them is flat in the pillow bag, where they will
form a soft shield for your face against browse
needles. Off" come the black wool inner socks, and
out of the "dry poke" you put on a pair of dry ones,
a pair of dry lumberman's socks, and a pair of
woollen night slippers. Thus rigged, your feet will
never bother you even when ice is forming in the
fresh-water pails, but do not skirmish around out-
side with your night socks on, or they will get damp,
and every heat unit in your body will go down to
56 CAMP CRAFT
your feet trying to evaporate them dry again, and
you will soon be cold even with a mountain of
blankets over you ! If you expect the thermometer
to go down below zero, a night rig of flannel pajamas
is a good thing, if you have room for it in the pack.
Otherwise leave your trousers on, if they are dry.
Personally I found them warmer so than if spread
out on top of the sleeping-bag, and they will not be
damp and cold the next morning, as they surely will
be if left outside of the bag. Finally, before pulHng
the blanketing over your shoulders, throw your
mackinaw or coat clear over head and shoulders. It
will settle down on you comfortably enough after
you have made yourself snug under the blanket flap
and helps keep your head warm. A Pontiac or
camel's-hair hood or skull-cap makes a good, warm
head protector for cold-night camping. Sleeping in
one's felt hat is all well enough if you have accom-
modating ears, but the confounded thing will come
off during the night if you turn over much.
Rigged out as above described, I have camped out
comfortably, night after night, in temperatures rang-
ing from zero to plus 20. With a good browse-bag
your under-side is always warm; it is the upper-side
that has to fight the cold. Now, a man with one
thickness of blanket has no chance at all against
zero temperatures or even freezing (32 degrees).
If he doubles the blanket it is not wide enough to
ELIMINATING THE BLANKET 57
stay on him, as he has no lacing holding it to the
browse-bag. If he takes two blankets there is 10
pounds of weight, and 2 cubic feet of baggage to load
on a man's back, against 3 pounds (and a container
instead of a package) for the pack-sack blanket.
And at that, the blanket toter will not be really-
warm. There are yards of useless extra material
around his feet, which he would give much to have
transferred up to his hips and shoulders, where the
cold is biting in ! And his load ! Well, it might
answer on a canoe trip, where a portage of a few
miles is the longest back-pack trip, or on a toboggan
jaunt, where the snow carries the load — but not for
a free and independent tramp over mountains and
down brooks, such as the trout angler takes in spring
or the hunter in the fall.
Now, I am not trying to proselyte in all this. I
have no jobs for any disciples — no desire to found
a Futurist school for outdoorsmen. There have
been plenty of other minds working toward the
elimination of the blanket. There is the "Arctic'*
sleeping-bag, made of pure llama wool and fine water-
proof gabardine, good for 34 below zero, weighing
only 3 pounds. It will go in a 22-inch-by-9-inch
tump-bag, with room for a tent besides, and all your
duffel and provisions go in the other bag, with the
two side by side in a pack-harness. Aside from the
expense of the Arctic bag — over twenty-five dollars
58 CAMP CRAFT
— it is an excellent answer to "Eliminating the
Blanket." Then, as another example, Doctor Lough-
ren, of the Camp Fire Club, showed me an ex-
cellent scheme, a sort of quilt bag, made of fine,
green, paraffined muslin, and lined with live-goose
feathers. It is water-proof and light — 4 pounds, if
I remember correctly — and he rolls his tent and
duffel up inside of it, and carries the whole thing
with a tump-Hne; and there have been others —
many of them.
Then there are the various sleeping-bags, consisting
generally of a water-proof envelope, with from 2 to
16 thicknesses of blanketing, weights running from
9 to 16 pounds, or with a single eider-down quilt
weighing 7 pounds. These are 7 feet long by 3 feet
wide, with double 72-inch-by-84-inch gray blan-
kets, and the manufacturers recommend 4 thick-
nesses of blanket for summer, 8 for spring and fall,
and 12 to 16 for winter. Another type has one
single bag of fine, soft wool worn next to the sleeper
and a blanket of heavy felt-cloth, weight about 17
pounds. A variation of these consists in the various
camp rolls and carryall beds, which are a combina-
tion of mattresses, blanketing, and 12-ounce duck
envelope, arranged to fold over the sleeper.
The way to manage all of these is to save enough
on the weight of the tent to make your total weight
of shelter and sleeping accommodations come out
ELIMINATING THE BLANKET 59
as low as possible. A simple sheet of light water-
proof material, set up either as a wedge-tent, a lean-
to, or a Baker without sides, makes shelter enough,
even though somewhat drafty, so that the total
weight for freezing temperatures need not exceed
16 pounds. They are all rather bulky, in fact too
bulky for a back-pack trip, and the weight is nearly
twice as much as the writer would care to devote
to that part of his outdoor equipment. The limit
for a comfortable back-pack trip should be 35 pounds
for a light-weight man, and say 42 to 45 pounds for
a six-footer. And, of course, the prices of these
manufactured goods are a very noteworthy item for
any one but the sportsman who can readily afford
guides enough to make a caravan out of his hunting
trip.
This article merely aims to show what a poor man
can do along the same lines, with every stitch of
the equipment home-made.
The rig I have described has been out with me
two years so far. I added to it a lining of brown
galatea some time ago. It weighs only a few ounces
and adds considerably to the warmth of the bag,
because the sheeting serves the purpose of retaining
the envelope of warm air that your body produces
inside the bag. This continuously escapes through
the interstices of a loose-woven material like blank-
eting and has to be replaced at the expense of your
6o CAMP CRAFT
bodily energy. Several foreign-made gabardines
also make excellent sheeting material. I took the
pack-blanket bag out with me this February with
the galatea lining and found that it added quite
appreciably to its warmth. I should say that, as
that bag now stands, it can be rehed upon to be
comfortable at all temperatures and humidities
down to zero.
As might be expected, the original bag has been
subjected to rigid scrutiny to save weight and gain
simpHcity. The photographs show two bags em-
bodying improvements on the original model. One
has a single piece of mackinaw blanketing, 54 inches
by 30 inches, substituted for the wool quilt, army
blanket, and sheeting. Experienced outfitters have
claimed that the mackinaw is lighter and as warm
as the entire other combination. I personally found
it chilly at 36 degrees, and so added a facing of fine
red flannel to make it warm enough down to 32
degrees. In place of the heavy 22-inch sail duck
I substituted in this bag lo-ounce water-proof brown
duck, which comes 28 inches wide. This lo-ounce
brown water-proof canvas comes at forty cents a
yard and has the great advantage that it can be
hemmed, sewed, and blanketing sewed to it, all on
the domestic sewing-machine, saving much tedious
hand-sewing necessary with the heavy sail duck.
With a i^-inch hem on each side, it makes a pack
ELIMINATING THE BLANKET 6i
25 inches wide instead of 22 inches, and it is not
only better and more adaptable for larger men than
I am but I find the extra three inches very ac-
ceptable in increasing the available capacity of
your pack. The weight is 3^ pounds total, includ-
ing canvas and mackinaw, or 4^ with the flannel
facing.
For below-zero temperatures I also made bag No.
3, 55 inches by 25 inches, of lo-ounce brown water-
proof canvas, Hned with caribou skin. This skin is
exceedingly soft and fine, an inch thick, and very
warm. The skins come about 6 feet long by 32
inches wide in the body part, and you piece out the
neck with the excess fur around the head and ears
to make it 20 inches wide where your feet come.
It is sewed to the canvas backing inside the hem
with strong black Hnen thread, and there is an overlap
of some 5 inches of fur along each side for 3 feet
distance, or from your shoulders nearly to your
knees. The bag weighs 4^ pounds, is roomy and
easy to pack inside, is very warm at 30 degrees, and
and roasted me out at ±2 degrees if I slept in my
clothes.
The operation of lacing or unlacing the sleeping-
bags takes six minutes. As far as the pack-bag is
concerned it has been ehminated by putting United
States army snap-hooks along the edges of the front
face instead of the grommet holes. Either a rawhide
62 CAMP CRAFT
thong or a braided rope is far preferable to ordinary
twisted rope because of the latter's tendency to
kink. The length of the thong should be 6 feet,
one on each side secured to the middle grommet. I
got rid of the necessity of thus lacing the pack-blanket
to the browse-bag at night by riveting half of my
army bronze snap-hooks to the latter in place of the
grommets. Making up the sleeping-bag at night
with this "hunch" is only a matter of a minute.
It takes five if you lace it, and half an hour from the
time you start unlacing the sleeping-bag until the
whole pack is made up ready for the trail, with tent
and duffel inside and cook-kit strapped in place.
This includes striking and folding the tent.
For ladies* use and in permanent camps there have
been two propositions advanced with the object of
getting the pack sleeping-bag off the ground entirely.
One of them is to put a row of five stout canvas
loops along each side of the browse-bag, so that in
wet weather it can be lifted clear of the ground by
sHpping two side poles through the loops like a
stretcher bed. The second is to take along an In-
dian stick bed, which will easily fit in the space
between the cook-kit and the top of the pack under
the holding straps of the cook-kit.
I have tried out the former, but the rubber cloth
on the ground and the sleeping-bag on it is good
enough except for trips where browse is hard to
ELIMINATING THE BLANKET
63
get. For the ladies' equipment I have tried the
stretcher-bed modification with signal success, as
scratching browse night after night is a nuisance
and can be avoided by making a thin quilt of the
browse-bag lined with wool batting.
CHAPTER IV
GETTING AWAY FROM THE BROWSE BED
THERE is an ancient partner of mine, an old
side-kick who often goes to the wars with
me, and he seldom overlooks an opportunity to re-
mind me that I am constitutionally lazy, not to
say averse to the vigorous use of the axe. (So I
am, except for good and specific reasons.) He tells
me that I would rather scratch browse around the
woods like a chicken than cut me a good stretcher-
bed pole frame with the axe like a man, and that
that is the real reason why he so seldom finds me
inhabiting a stretcher bed. I plead guilty. I have
slept in almost every contrivance on the market,
and in not a few home-made inventions, in a lauda-
ble effort to avoid scratching browse or, worse yet,
knocking off the powdery snow from a few innocent
balsams and denuding them forthwith of all their
soft, feathery plumage in order to provide comfort
for the family when the snow is knee-deep and the
blizzard is roaring outside the tent. Except for the
standard camp-cot, which is very flat and comfort-
able, most stretcher-bed devices are apt to become
like canvas bathtubs in shape, and are altogether
64
THE BROWSE BED 65
too prone to fold the sleeper up in himself until he
resembles a human sardine to entice me into using
them overmuch, and this is the real reason why I
avoid them, not because of the labor of cutting a
few paltry poles.
But the convenience of having a light, flat, springy
bed, carried along with the rest of your equipment
and always dry and ready for service when the day's
toil is done, is a sufficient object to warrant spend-
ing a great deal of thought and experiment upon the
obtaining of such a rig. For go-light trips and for
extended wilderness trips, where so much food must
be carried as to require paring down the tent and
sleeping equipment weights to the minimum, the In-
dian stick bed and the air bed offer two practical solu-
tions. I show in this chapter photographs illustrat-
ing what various experienced big-game hunters of the
Camp Fire Club have done along these lines in these
two types of beds. These men know how precious is
that same bodily vigor which the inexperienced man
so cheerfully wastes by sleeping on hard and un-
comfortable beds. To have the reserve to call upon
when your chance comes at maybe the only kill of
the trip, and there is a flock of goats or mountain-
sheep in sight but 3 miles away across a deep valley
on another mountain than the one you have climbed,
requires that you must be fit physically, not tired
out and half alive from the exhaustion of night after
66 CAMP CRAFT
night of unrefreshing sleep, where you turn and toss
for hours before sleep overtakes you no matter how
weary you may be. Wherefore note that many of
these big-game hunters go provided with full-sized
air mattresses, weighing about lo pounds each and
inflating to make a mattress some 5 inches thick,
6 feet 3 inches long, and 2 feet i inch wide. These
mattresses add nothing to one's warmth; in fact,
are colder than any form of browse mattress, but
they are comfortable, very, and you can put them
right down on the snow or on a muskeg bog, if need
be, and they are always ready for use after ten
minutes' blowing up; they stow easily, and, if you
see to it that your sleeping-bag provides the neces-
sary warmth, they make an excellent rig for wilder-
ness canoe trips and pack-and-saddle mountain trips
after big game. The one shown was used on a
month's hunting trip in Alberta, with snow on the
ground most of the time and temperatures ranging
around 20 degrees at night.
While this air mattress and a sleeping-bag to go
with it make too heavy a combination for go-light
work and back-pack trips, a modification of it,
originating, I think, with my good friend Otto Van
Norden and since tried out by the writer, answers
very well. This modification depends upon the
fact that the lower part of your body requires no
such support underneath as your hips and shoulders
THE BROWSE BED e^
need. The part that must be air-carried reaches
from just above one's shoulders to some 6 inches
below the hip-bones and is 34 inches in length for a
man 5 feet 8 inches in height and about 38 inches
for a six-footer. Your neck needs no support at all
and your head can be taken care of by almost any
assortment of duffel and loose clothing, provided
that you have a small feather pillow to top it off
with. So this leaves as absolutely necessary only
an air cushion some 18 inches wide by 36 inches
long, as the pneumatic part of your rig, the lower
end being thick quilting of a little browse put in to
take care of your knees and feet. This at once re-
duces the weight and size of the mattress very ma-
terially, my own version of the scheme being two
15x15 pneumatic boat cushions sewed inside the
browse bag, which laces to the Forester pack-sack
sleeping-bag. These two cushions weigh 3^ pounds
and take hips and shoulders respectively, leaving
some 30 inches of the lower part of the bag to be
filled with loose browse. It is a warm combination
because the upper face of the browse-bag is of brown
flannel with about % inch of Australian wool batting
behind it. By cutting down the weight of the tent I
have been able to accommodate the weight of these
air cushions within the same total equipment weight
for back-pack trips as before, viz., 20 pounds exclu-
sive of grub.
68 CAMP CRAFT
A third arrangement of the air bed is that used
by Elt Warner, the human dynamo behind Field
and Stream. It is shown in our illustrations and
consists of a rubberized-cloth sleeping-bag, which is
also a tent and has a half-length pneumatic mattress,
about 24 X 36 inches, which makes comfortable
the hips and shoulders. At first Warner was a lit-
tle shy of this bag, because it was undoubtedly cold
in spring and fall night temperatures without blan-
kets. But by setting it up as shown, he found he
could leave out a tent entirely from his equipment
and add a Hght 3J^-pound Hudson Bay blanket,
and could then defy the world for combined comfort
and warmth. The top face of this bag can be at-
tached by snap-buttons up under the roof of the shel-
ter cloth, giving it considerable slope, so that it sheds
rain in almost any tempest. It lacked, however,
an efficient mosquito-bar, and this was later added
in the form of a bobbinet-bar draping down on three
sides from the edges of the shelter cloth. With
this rig should betaken along a light, small "tarp"
to form not only a shelter for one's dufFel but also
a windbreak on one side of the shelter cloth. This
equipment weighs 11 pounds and rolls into a package
about 9 inches in diameter by 28 inches long. Packed
in a brown canvas duffel-bag, with another along-
side of it for dufFel and grub, the two being carried
in a light shoulder-strap harness, it makes an ex-
THE BROWSE BED 69
cellent, comfortable go-light rig, always ready for
service.
Another form of these shelter sleeping-bags on
the market has a small pyramidal tent over the head
end, this tent being an integral part of the bag and
adding but a pound or so to its weight. It can be
provided with a mosquito-blind inside, and, like all
small tents, must have a ventilator in the peak
somewhere or the tent will get breathy during a
night's sleep.
The second proposal in getting away from browse
is to adopt or modify the Indian stick bed. If you
consider our woven-wire spring-bed you will have the
principle of the stick bed, something flat and springy,
upon which a mattress is to be laid, and on this your
sleeping-bag or blankets. Out in Montana you can
buy an Indian stick bed for eight dollars, with all
its poles and trappings, highly decorated, made by
the Blackfeet Indians. As they travel by pony
and pack their goods on traverse poles, they have
studied neither lightness nor compactness, for their
beds are overwide and are truncate in shape, not
rectangular. They are universally made of sticks
of kinnikinnic, the sand-bar willow of the west, the
sticks being some }^ inch in diameter and strung
on cords just as close as they will go, I should say
about 150 sticks for a 6-foot bed. To set up, just
cut two short 6-foot poles of lodge-pole pine or white
70
CAMP CRAFT
cedar and roll out the bed on them. Many a
bivouac has been made on the prairie by scooping
two hollows in the bunch-grass for hips and shoulders
and rolling out the bed over these hollows. A deer-
skin or two forms the usual mattress. Mr. Ernest
Thompson Seton, of the Camp Fire Club, has modi-
fied this bed for white man's use by making all the
sticks uniformly 24 inches long, spacing them an
inch apart, increasing the diameter to about yi inch,
and threading them through the strands of twisted
hemp rope, tying fast with fine cord. He has re-
tained the cloth binding of the edges of the bed uni-
versally used by the Indians, and, so fashioned, his
bed rolls up into a package 8 inches in diameter by
24 inches long, and rolls out to make a 6-foot bed,
weighing about 6 pounds. This bed, as stated
above, requires a light mattress to make it com-
fortable and to take off the harshness of the sticks.
A wool quilt or a thick deerskin or other fur will
answer very well, and the combination makes a
flat comfortable bed, fitting the contours of the body
at all points and very pleasant to sleep on.
Realizing the necessity of this quilt or mattress,
David T. Abercrombie, the outfitter, has devised a
combination stick bed and mattress which has proved
light and practical. The quilt is made of brown
khaki, stuffed with wool batting, and has pockets on
the under-side spaced 3 inches apart, in each of
s
> •*
'l
L_ ^ _jk
THE BROWSE BED 71
which is put a ^-inch natural willow rod. When
rolled out this makes a warm, comfortable, springy
bed, and if any of the sticks break it is an easy
matter to replace them. The bed rolls into a parcel
27 inches long by 8 inches in diameter, and weighs
4^ pounds.
For my own use I wanted something more com-
pact and light, also something that could go outside
my pack and that rain could not hurt. In between
the cook-kit and the top curve of my pack was a
small triangle, behind those straps which go from
the pack over the cook-kit, and this triangle of space
I always felt was intended by Nature to form the
abiding space for a stick bed. I wanted something
that would roll up into a parcel not over 4 inches in
diame.ter and weigh not over 3 pounds. There is
just one point of your anatomy which must rest on
something solid unless the whole rig is to be made
unduly heavy and strong, and that point is your
hip-bone. Given a support for that, all the rest could
be made Hght. So I decided to make my stick bed
springy enough to carry all my body except that
bone, and let that touch "bottom," piling up a
few leaves or some browse under the stick bed to
take care of that hip-bone. With this ofF my chest,
I felt safe in trying out light sticks for the bed ma-
terial, and so chose the smallest obtainable, ^-inch
maple dowels. Another principle that I determined
72 CAMP CRAFT
to make use of was the hammock effect of the longi-
tudinal cords threading through the stick bed.
With these made strong and non-stretchable, they
would aid materially in supporting the total weight,
just as in a hammock. So I bought a hank of strong
*' Banks" line, a green braided line of some lOO
pounds' breaking strain, used for cod-fishing ofF
the Newfoundland banks. This I cut into 14-foot
lengths and used six of them for the longitudinal
strings of the bed, as I figured that the knots would
use up half my cord, and they did. I bought two
stout >2-inch rods for the head and foot sticks of
the bed, and fifty-four ^-inch maple dowels, to be
spaced i inch apart. It would not seem enough
sticks for a man 5 feet 8 inches tall, but wait, there
is a reason ! This bed was made by drilling holes
with a /^-inch machine twist-drill through six points
in all the sticks, and the cod-line was then threaded
through with a knot on each side of each stick.
An interminable job, ten to twelve minutes' work
for each stick ! The Indians, who have nothing
hut time, find it easy to make a stick bed, but I
finally managed to squeeze out enough evenings of
time to finish it. My wife, who likes to place a bet
whenever she is convinced that her better half has
jumped the trolley-wire, bet me a box of Huyler's
that the bed would go all to smash the first time I
used it, besides being too short. I took that bet.
I
THE BROWSE BED 73
We then carried the bed out to a favorite camp site
in the forest, and I cut two side poles, drove in four
pegs at the ends six feet apart, and put on two cross-
sticks for head and foot. Then I laced a thong
around these end sticks and the foot and head sticks
of the bed and drew the bed as taut as it could be
drawn, making me a flat bed 2 feet wide by 6 feet
long, including the lacing sticks.
On this a deerskin, and it was ready for trial. I
sat down gingerly on one edge and rolled over on
my hip. BHss ! Also crack ! crack ! — under the hip,
two sticks ! The wife let out a squeal of triumph
and held out her hand for the box of candy. She
won; but I didn't lose, for those two sticks were
all that broke, and the rest of the bed was a marvel
of comfort and lightness. It weighed 2>^ pounds,
and rolled up a little over 3 inches in diameter. I
slept on it for a week, and gradually one stick after
another gave way, until twelve were broken, mostly
those in which the grain crossed the axis of the stick.
It in no way aff^ected the general comfort of the
bed, and I saw that I was on the right track and
that the scheme was possible — ^with better material.
For hard maple is too brittle; what is wanted is a
tough yet springy wood like sour-gum or pin-oak;
willow would be too flexible for such a small diameter
of stick. The holes through the centre were also
a mistake; nearly all the breaks occurred at these
74 CAMP CRAFT
holes; the twisted hemp rope, with the sticks rove
through a strand of the rope and secured with a
bit of winding-twine, is the right fastening. Some
form of wool quilt is, in my opinion, better than fur
for the mattress also. My deerskin weighs 2 pounds
15 ounces, with fur on it an inch thick, the general
dimensions being 4 feet long by 2 feet 6 inches wide.
It rolls into a parcel 5 inches in diameter by 20 inches
long, and the skin absorbs considerable moisture
from the ground underneath, getting heavy thereby.
I am at present making the upper face of my browse-
bag a wool quilt an inch thick, for use with either
the pneumatic cushions or the stick bed. This in-
creases the weight of the bag from 3 pounds to over
4, and its bulk to about a 7-inch roll, but it lets out
both the deerskin and the ground-cloth, the bottom
of the bag being made of light, water-proof fabric in
this form, and, as it gets away from picking browse,
I am well satisfied.
To make up for this increase in weight, it was
necessary to reduce the weight of tent carried. I
still prefer the Forester for spring, summer, and fall
camping as being the roomiest, warmest, and most
cosey of the open forms of tent, but for snow work,
when there is a blizzard blowing smoke and snow-
flakes into the tent while one is trying to cook break-
fast on an open fire in front of the tent, some one of
the closed types is far preferable. I am not in the
M^
f^S^
THE BROWSE BED 75
least averse to experimenting in new fields with
tents, and never yet was wedded to any of my own
inventions; so in this case I set to work to devise a
new "blizzard" tent, for one or two men, that would
weigh 3 pounds. The illustration shows the result.
It is, in effect, a modification of the well-known
Hudson Bay tent, in that the ends are pyramidal
instead of circular, so that only two more pegs are
needed than with the ordinary wedge-tent, and no
poles at all are required. This tent sets up 5 feet
wide by 6 feet long on the straight faces, with the
addition of the pyramidal triangles at each end,
which make it 9 feet long from peg to peg. In the
rear pyramid is room for duffel and a side-opening
food-bag, hung up on two short stakes. The door
is in the front pyramid, which is also the space sacred
to a small tent-stove. This is something that I
have always wanted for snow work, for if run right
it will keep you warm and comfortable and cook
breakfast or supper for you while the gale is roaring
outside. This particular stove is simply a sheet-
iron oblong with cylindrical ends which slips over
the two aluminum pots of the Forester cook-kit, its
size being 14 inches long by 7>^ inches diameter by
7 inches high. The lids of the pots form the two
covers of the stove, unless the pots are on duty in
the stove-holes or there is a frying-pan holding down
a hole on the top of the stove. Small draft-door in
76 CAMP CRAFT
one side, and outtake for the stovepipe low down
on the opposite side. Stovepipe is of two 20-inch
lengths by 2j^ inches diameter. Slope of tent pyr-
amid carries tent well away from draft. Bottom
of stove is open and is to be set on a flat rock and
chinked with chips of stone to keep down bottom
draft. I learned this trick from an open-bottom
sheet-iron stove that we used in the West.
This "blizzard'' tent weighs just 3 pounds, and
packs into a parcel 3 inches diameter by 20 inches
long. It is made of a light, oiled-silk fabric, given
me by Abercrombie on one of our trips. Along one
side goes the stick bed, with room for a bunky be-
side me, at the rear end the duffel and grub, and in
the front end the stove. I have since added a bob-
binet ventilator up in the rear peak, as I found the
tent breathy after a night in it closed up, whereas
the Forester is always sweet and full of forest
ozone.
The blizzard tent is in no way to be compared
to the Forester for general roominess and healthful-
ness, but in thick weather, either rain or snow, it
does possess the advantage that one can cook in it,
and with the addition of one of those small briquet
burners, or the briquet itself burned in the tent-
stove, same giving out quite a noticeable heat for
ten hours after igniting, it would be comfortable at
very low temperatures. These briquets weigh 7^
THE BROWSE BED ^j
pounds to the dozen, or enough to last a week of cold
nights, at a weight of 4 pounds.
In conclusion, mention should be made of the
stretcher bed and its direct modification, the net
bed. The former is sold in tan canvas, 6 feet by 3
feet, with pockets along each side to receive the
stretcher poles; weight 3 pounds. Stretched taut
and provided with any kind of a quilt mattress, it is
comfortable, and I have slept night after night for
weeks at a time in the canvas sailor's hammock,
virtually the same thing as a stretcher bed, without
ever wearying of it. In both hammock and bed,
if hung Uke a bag, it will be impossible to stretch
out arms and legs comfortably. Sailors adjust their
hammocks to He flat and comfortable by taking up
and letting out on the lengths of the lanyards run-
ning from the hammock-ring to the grommets in
the edge of the canvas, and the same thing is done
with the stretcher bed, by seeing to it that it is
stretched taut and braced so as to stay so. Many
a time I have made up the pack-sack sleeping-bag
owned by the lady of the family so as to make a
comfortable stretcher bed of it, as she prefers this
to any form of browse mattress, probably because
it raises her above an imaginary snake zone. The
side poles should be amply strong so as not to spring
in, and their ends are staked in place over two short
cross-logs which form the foundation skids of the
78 CAMP CRAFT
bed. Head and foot are secured by lashing the ends
of the canvas to suitable cross-sticks on top of the
side poles.
Few outdoorsmen have investigated the net bed,
and only one has so far reported on it to me. The
French make wonderful net-bags, which hold over
a bushel of produce, yet when collapsed into a mere
handful of twine take up no room at all. A net bed
of the same type would take but little room and
weight, and could be stretched on a frame, much as
with a stretcher bed, and a mattress laid upon it.
Something like camel's-hair or horsehair should be
used to stuff this mattress, as the tendency of the
net thongs to cut would have to be counteracted by
quite a substantial stuffing. This objection would
seem to put the net bed out of the running as com-
pared with the stretcher bed of woven textiles, but
still, when some of our original go-light cranks start
experimenting with it, there is no telling what they
will bring forth !
CHAPTER V
THE CAMP-FIRE
THE open-hearth log fire is the heart of the
country home. Poets, philosophers, artists —
all have contributed to the world's sentiment over
the sacred hearthstone. Entwined in the earHest
memories of every country boy is the home fireplace,
with its crackling logs, its fancy-inviting flames, its
good cheer of pop-corn, black walnuts, and apple
cider, the children's revels around the home hearth-
stone, the old people's comfort, the deHght of the
strong master of the house and his gracious life
partner. Like the sound given out by the taut
skin drum, there is an indefinable something about
the sight of a log fire in the home fireplace that tugs
at the very heart-strings of mankind. Yet if we
analyze either drum or fire we find that their soul-
stirring appeal dates back to the remotest birth of
the human race. The skin drum that calls men to
war and the wood-fire that always makes every spot
in which it is kindled home have been with us for
untold centuries; they call to the blood of the race,
and every remote ancestral strain in our being re-
79
8o CAMP CRAFT
spends intuitively no matter how deep the veneer of
civilization.
The forebear of the log fire on the hearth is the
camp-fire. We have it with us yet, as always, but,
while the hearth has been evolved so as to yield
heat with almost any huddle of logs and kindlings,
the camp-fire must be built rightly for the purpose
intended, or it is worse than a nuisance.
Mankind on the trail cannot get along without
external heat. The day's toil spends his energy,
and his vitality grows low; the cold creeps over him
and he has no strength left to drive it off with further
output of toil. Cold food may yield sustenance
and allow him to continue a little longer, but to
really restore his vigor he needs external heat, hot
food cooked over the camp-fire, warm heat-rays
to penetrate his body and relax the tired muscles,
drive out the cold and rheumatic aches, and put
him in a state of comfort that enables mind and
body to recuperate. And so we find, even in the
Arctic wastes, where fuel must actually be carried
along, that it is never gone without and its weight
replaced by extra blanketing, but rather treasured
and appreciated, for the finest part of the day,
even in the snow igloo, is that hour when the day's
march is done, the Httle spirit-lamp lighted, the
frozen pemmican boiled, and the explorers, with
their heavy outer furs removed, revel in the comfort
THE CAMP-FIRE 8i
and luxury of the heat from that tiny flame which
soon warms the igloo far above the temperature
outside and brings to an end the day-long struggle
of bodily vigor against the bitter cold of the open
wastes.
Even in the ordinary hunter's camp the energy
spent on chopping wood for a good camp-fire at
night is well worth while. One can get along without
it, and through the long, still hours of the night a
warm sleeping equipment that will defy any cold
is the thing, but to miss the cheery warmth of a
well-built camp-fire, substituting for it the glare of
the carbide lamp and the warmth of one's mack-
inaws, is to lose the cream of camping out. What
is really needed is the mental equipment of a knowl-
edge of what kind of a fire to build with different
forms of camps, so as to get the most comfort for
the least expenditure of axemanship. For there are
a whole series of camp-fires, each best adapted to
its particular camp, and the veteran woodsman will
build the right one for the right camp every time.
There is the backlog fire, virtually a log hearth,
suitable for cold nights in front of a group of open
tents; the Indian fire, a circle of log ends with the
fire in the centre, a great labor saver and easily
replenished by simply shoving the log ends in as
they burn away, suitable for the central fire of an
encampment of closed tents;, the teepee fire, similar
82 CAMP CRAFT
but of fewer and thicker logs, meant to give out
heat with the least possible smoke, not a big fire but
one built to burn long and continuously; the various
cook fires, such as log ranges, reflector baker fires,
lunch fires, and wire-grate fires; the tent-stoves for
both cooking and heating; the snow fire, built so as
to burn on a snow-bank and yet not put itself out
through melting the snow beneath; the tent warm-
ers and spirit-lamps for camping in country above
timber-line; and finally the fires intended for some-
thing else than intense heat, such as the various
smudges and jerky fires.
And a knowledge of these does not begin to exhaust
the subject either, for back of them must be the
knowledge of what woods to use and what to reject,
how to kindle any fire and what materials are best
for the purpose in various countries, and then how
to manage your fire so as to get just the right amount
of heat for the purpose, not too much nor yet too
little. Every woodland cook should be a first-class
fireman; even if you have not yet learned how to
cook you can at least become an expert fireman,
thus relieving the cook of much labor.
To begin with the backlog fire: Before you start
in to cut anything there are a couple of points to
consider, the first being what size axe you have to
do it with, and the second the kinds of wood to
select. If you are alone or with a bunky in a small
THE BACK-LOG FIRE.
THE INDIAN STICK FIRE.
THE CAMP-FIRE 83
open tent and have a belt-axe you will not want logs
over 4 or 5 inches in diameter, 3 feet long, and twenty
of these can be cut to length and a backlog fire
set up in about an hour's work. If a big fire, like
the one in the illustration is wanted — something to
warm up a large Baker tent with four or five men
in it — the same job can be done with a sharp three-
quarter axe, and the logs will run 6 and 8 inches,
4 feet long. Both fires will be built on the same
plan: two stout stakes leaning slightly backward,
then your heaviest log, and then four others on top
of it; next two smaUish logs of length a foot shorter
than those for the backlogs are put down as andirons
and staked in place; across the front of these a thin
log for a forestick, and in the space between it and
the backlogs a full pyramid of short 2 and 3 inch
branches, well chinked with twigs, split stuff, dead
leaves, and dry duff. This fire is touched off after
twilight and at once becomes a pyramid of flame
6 feet high. As soon as the first charge burns down,
three or four 3 and 4 inch logs are laid across the
andirons together with more branches to keep up the
blaze, and when these have burned to coals there
should be a glowing bed of them large enough to
keep all the succeeding logs going without trouble.
Three charges of four logs each put on at 1 1 p. m., 2
A. M., and 4 A. M. will keep up a warm glow in the tent
all night, and it is the answer to comfortable camping
84 CAMP CRAFT
if the party is provided with nothing but blankets.
The sound and refreshing sleep you get is worth
the hour spent in wood-chopping, and is far better
than shivering half the night and arising half fit for
the succeeding day's work. For backlogs for this
fire you will want non-inflammable woods — in the
North country, green balsam or green black ash;
in hardwood forests, red oak and red maple; in
pine country, green pitch-pine and sour-gum. The
same woods will be wanted for andirons and fore-
stick. On the other hand, you need long-burning
woods that give good coals and do not require very
much small stuff to keep them going for the fire
itself, so that a few heavy logs will keep burning
without continuous replenishing, and here, for the
North country you have the yellow and paper birch;
in the hardwood forests, black birch, pignut hickory,
hard maple, white ash, white oak, chestnut, and
chestnut-oak; in the pine countries swamp white
oak, post-oak, water-ash and black-jack. And while
putting in your good energy with the axe, it is well
not to waste it on "trash," i. e., woods that burn up
in a hurry, leaving you not even a respectable bed
of coals to give out a glow of heat. Such woods are
hemlock, sweet-gum, tulip, dry balsam, all the white
pines, soft maple, the cedars, and the spruces.
Many of them are not only short-lived but pop as
if full of .22's, driving sparks about that will burn
THE CAMP-FIRE 85
tents and bedding and perhaps set a leaf fire in the
woods about the camp. A knowledge of how to
identify the above trees, with or without the leaves,
is the minimum of forestry that any one should take
into the woods in his mental kit.
Our next illustration shows an Indian fire — ^the
lazy man's fire. It can and has been built without
ever seeing an axe, by the simple process of pushing
down dead saplings and dragging them to camp,
building over their ends a fire of dead pick-up wood,
and after the punky sapling ends get dried out and
started, pushing them in 2 feet at a time until all
are consumed. It is a good fire to give light and a
little heat in the centre of an encampment, where,
after the evening meal, the party gathers to loaf and
smoke and sing, and no one wants to work. The
popular woods for it are dead beeches and white
oaks, which may be pushed down, branchless for
many feet up the trunk, under almost all high forest,
particularly in moist ravines and wet hollows. Dead
birches, balsams, hemlocks, and pines, with a little
dressing from the belt-axe, serve the same purpose
in the North, while in pine country, dead white cedars,
black-jacks, and pitch-pines are to be had in untold
millions from similar thickets of young growth.
Fat-wood fires of dead, long-leaf pines are also used
for the central camp-fire in the South, but the
black, sooty smoke which they give out will soon
86 CAMP CRAFT
make tents and duffel sorry and dirty in appear-
ance.
The illustration opposite shows the well-known log
range. I do not like it much because it does not ex-
pose enough of the pot bottom to the heat without
making the pot too tippy and unstable, and practical
woodsmen have no patience with the upset of a pail
of good grub into the fire after half an hour's cook-
ing. The side logs should be of non-inflammable
logs about 8 inches in diameter, and must have small
billets of wood under each end so as to get a proper
draft under the logs. The fire is built in between
and across the top of the logs, and by the time it
has all died down to coals it is ready for culinary
experiments — theoretically. In practice you have
no control over the height of your pot above the
fire, because it must go on top of the logs, so that
in spots there is too much heat for the particular
job and elsewhere there is too little. I personally
prefer the cross-stick fire with chain or wire pot-
hooks, or the dingle stick, where not more than three
pails are on at the same time. With a wire grate,
as shown in the picture opposite, much better control
over the height can be had by driving down the
grate pins with an axe, and the best fire for it is a
cross grid of split hardwoods, such as maple, king-
nut hickory, chestnut, and black-jack oaks, etc.
None of these gives out much smoke, and, both while
THE LOG COOKING-RANGE.
ON RIGHT, REFLECTOR BAKER FIRE; LEFT, WIRE GRATE AND GRID FIRE
OF SPLIT BILLETS.
THE CAMP-FIRE 87
flaming and as coals, they give a steady, intense heat
that is fine for all boiling operations and, with a little
trash wood added, good for frying. In the same
illustration a correctly made fire for the reflector baker
is shown. The logs for this may be of any wood, and
the fire-wood should be "trash," for baking must
be done hot from the start and finished in fifteen
minutes if the biscuit or corn bread is to rise properly.
What is wanted, then, is a hot, flaming fire, of short
duration but high in flame, 2 to 3 feet. The slow-
burning, non-flaming woods are just what one does
not want in this work, for they will invariably burn
the under-side of the baking before the upper has
even begun to brown. A couple of blazing sticks
laid on top of the wire grate will give you the same
desirable high flame.
For starting any of these fires. Nature has pro-
vided a suitable tinder for every forest in which the
woodsman may find himself, for the bark peelings
of all the birches are good tinder, and some species
of the family grows almost everywhere; white cedar
is universal, and its bark when crumpled and worked
by hand into a wad of bark fibre will take the smallest
spark. In practice one seldom hunts up either of
these trees, for the dead twigs which can be broken
from the tree, underneath the Hving boughs of all
spruces, balsams, hemlocks, and many hardwoods,
are right to hand and nearly always dry. Even
88 CAMP CRAFT
when thoroughly wet, all one needs is a stick of soft
wood and a hunting-knife to cut all the dry shavings
needed after once getting through the wet surface
of the wood. If you have only one match and no
cedar or birch seems to be handy to the blazed trail
on which you have halted, and you want to be abso-
lutely sure of that fire, cut at least a hatful of shav-
ings before you light the match; even a handful of
them may go out unexpectedly before the larger
wood ''takes " in wet weather, but a hatful, never.
And, before the precious match is struck, be sure
that the whole gradation of a fire — shavings, splin-
ters, twigs, sticks, branches, and small logs is at
hand.
As soon as one moves the camp-fire inside of the
tent, a new variety of conditions arises. All the
products of combustion must be gotten out of the
tent, and this applies to smokeless tent-warmers as
well as fires, for a good deal of carbon monoxide is
produced in all stoves, as well as the carbon dioxide
which follows complete combustion. Both gases
are poisonous, the former virulently so, and many
a fatal termination to a night's sleep in a closed tent
has been narrowly escaped by parties of explorers
and hunters who trusted to one of these tent heaters
without seeing to it that the tent had proper venti-
lation. Yet in a closed-tent camp a fire of some sort
is a luxury that it is hard to make the uninitiated
I
THE CAMP-FIRE 89
conceive as possible. Not only is the earth damp-
ness and chill driven away, but the necessity of
cooking a meal out-of-doors in perhaps inclement
weather, often in pitch darkness, is removed, and
one is cosey and at home for the night after the
day's work is done — done with the stern and in-
hospitable wilderness for the time and at peace for
once with the whole visible world. Many men, be-
cause of having to do writing, or scientific work,
or having some other occupation aside from hunting
and travelHng, require a closed tent for the eve-
ning's work, and in wintry weather such a tent will
give one more comfort with less labor than any open
tent made. Wherefore the problem of how to bring
the camp-fire inside the tent has been given much
study by those who know. The most primitive of
tent stoves is the red man's. He has had that prob-
lem before him for centuries, and has, as usual,
solved it in the only logical way without sheet metal
to help him. With pottery and stone-work at hand
to construct a stove, he does nothing of the kind,
but contents himself with *bringing his outdoor fire
inside, feeding it in the same way — but with a
difference ! For, to feed in the logs toward a central
point, while it answers very well in the daytime,
argues that some one will have to stay awake to do
the feeding if the same scheme is to be followed at
night. But any one who has handled a log fire in
90 CAMP CRAFT
the home fireplace knows that a well-charred, bone-
dry log will burn steadily all night — with a glow, not
a flame, giving off considerable heat, yet no smoke
— if it has a small bed of embers under it. The same
charcoalizing process takes place as in a well-man-
aged tent-stove with this log in the open, if it rests
on its own embers, partly smothered in fire ashes, so
as to reduce the draft to a minimum. Two of these
logs, or rather billets, is the Indian's answer for a
small all-night fire in the teepee, the last and biggest
of his log ends being huddled over the remaining
embers and allowed to glow for the rest of the night,
the best wood for this purpose being white oak.
While a white man usually fills the teepee with more
smoke than heat, and ends by having a fire that is out
to the last ember two hours after the party has turned
in, there is no reason why his being a white man
should make this inevitable; two big logs that have
had the fire between them all evening, if set together
over the coals on turning in, will char and burn slowly
all night, giving off plenty heat enough to keep the
chill out of the teepee. For the white man's tent,
however, the sheet-iron tent-stove is best, for it means
coffee, biscuits, bacon, fish, and cereal for breakfast in
the morning, and that, too, without ever going out-
side; and it means mulligan, rice, steak, tea, stewed
fruit and hot corn bread at night, when the day's hunt
is done and it is dark and snowing a blizzard outside
THE CAMP-FIRE 91
and every one is dog-tired. All this is worth while,
whether the tent will hold one or six, and your
veteran will take some sort of a collapsible tent-
stove along, fitting outside his cook-kit or else
folded flat in his knapsack if he is doing winter
work. The big outfitters have provided various
sizes and models, many of them worked up from
the experience of the Rocky Mountain and Klondike
men, and almost every large cook-kit has some sort
of stove that fits over its biggest pail, adding little
to the weight and almost nothing to the bulk. Over
the nesting aluminum outfits goes a plain cylinder
stove about 12 inches diameter by 12 high, one hole,
with telescopic pipe fitting on a collar in the top of
the stove. But a one-hole stove is a hard thing to get
even the simplest meal on, and an oven saves many
times its weight, in that it allows flour and corn-meal
to be baked into hot, fresh breadstufFs, food weigh-
ing much more than the original flour, so that we
find on the market, and worthy of investigation,
several sizes of folding sheet-iron stoves and ovens,
besides a number of light box stoves with the oven
in place, same being used to carry cook-kit or grub-
box inside. One type is a log stove in the shape of a
half cylinder, with two stove-holes in the lid and a
collar for the smoke-pipe, an oven which forms part
of the stovepipe, and can be stowed inside the stove
when carrying; and, as this oven is raised 6 inches
92 CAMP CRAFT
above the top of the stove, the whole surface of the
stove is available for cooking.
For the amateur camper and experimenter, both
stove and oven make fascinating problems. Any
pail not soldered can be turned into an oven, either
by setting the baking-tin inside of it, held above
the bottom by another tin inverted, or the pail can
be laid on its side and a square tray with biscuits
or batter on it set in sideways, whereupon the curve
of the walls of the pail will hold the tray clear of
contact except where its edges rest on the pail walls.
This, set in a bed of coals and ashes and covered with
live coals, makes a good oven. For my own cook-
kit I got up a round-ended stove of 27-gauge sheet
iron, as shown in the picture, which just holds the two
aluminum pots side by side with a sheet-iron bridge
in between. It gives me a two-hole stove, with the
smoke-pipe attachable to one rounded end and the
stove-door in the other. The pots either rest on the
coals inside or are held above them by long through-
bolts, on which they rest.
Most fires, logs or sticks, go out and the stove
is cold two hours after the party is asleep; but if
care is taken to prepare a billet or two of hardwood
that will just about fit inside over the coals, that
billet will smoulder and give out heat all night long
with a pinhole draft in the stove-door, and most
of these doors are provided with such a hole for
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THE CAMP-FIRE 93
that very purpose. They are all hard to start if
one puts in more fuel at first than the draft can
properly take care of; the thing to do is to get
enough small wood burned down to coals to form a
bed of them, after which large sizes of split wood
can be fed in and the stove will use them up by the
charcoal-making route.
For work above timber-line, the camp-fire takes
the form of a spirit or kerosene lamp. Denatured
alcohol, or just plain kerosene, costing a tenth as
much; both have one-hole and two-hole blue-flame
burners available in light, folding explorer's stoves.
The kerosene-burners work on the principle of the
familiar gasolene plumber's torch, a little raw kero-
sene first being ignited to heat the burner, after
which the affair is self-vaporizing, and the height
of the flame is then controllable with a needle-valve.
With these burners is suppHed a sheet-iron radiating
drum for tent-warming, after the cooking is done,
and this drum serves as a packing-case for the lamp
and its special kerosene-can when on the trail. With
denatured alcohol the process is even simpler, the
burner simply being lighted, when the hot blue
flame of alcohol vapor is at once available, and, of
course, it gives many more heat-units per pound of
fuel than kerosene.
A rig similar to these which a friend of mine uses
on his one-man hikes is nothing in the world but
94 CAMP CRAFT
a short, extra-fat candle with a big wick, the only
other apparatus besides the candle being a sheet-iron
collar or spider, on which the bowl or frying-pan rests,
held by it a short distance above the flame. A
similar apparatus using solidified alcohol is on the
market and gives much more heat for the weight
carried.
Finally, there are the briquet tent-warmers, the
briquet simply requiring to be ignited, when it will
smoulder all night. Of course, it will asphyxiate
you unless there is a ventilator up in the tent peak;
but the heat it gives out means the difference be-
tween absolute chill, with your breath forming a
sheet of ice on the inside of the tent near your
face, and a reasonable atmosphere of warmth, warm
enough to breathe freely, and considerably above
the temperature outside. Most of these briquets
have some sort of frame stove or warmer in which
they go while burning, and some experimenting
would adapt this holder more to the requirements
of portability and compactness required by trail
conditions, as the present models listed are identical
with those sold for household purposes.
CHAPTER VI
COOK-KITS AND COOK-FIRES
MOST people seem to think they are missing
something in their camping unless everybody
squats down to burn a piece of meat on a forked
stick over a camp-fire. Fll admit that there are
all kinds of ways of preparing for your stomach the
crop that is garnered with rifle and rod. I have been
— and am yet — as primitive in my ways as any of
them; but, having cooked many a square meal with
all kinds of culinary equipment, from no utensils at
all up to a complete aluminum outfit for eight people,
I should like to set down here a few rambling notes
and experiences under the subcaption, "Cooking-
Kits I Have Met."
To begin with the one where there are no cooking
utensils at all: Were you ever out for two days with
nothing else but rifle, axe, and ditty-bag ^ Here we
get an immediate return-ticket to the ways of the
"ignorant and barbarous'* savage. (I often wish
that the professor who coined that phrase would
try, just once, to make a flint arrow-head !) You,
in all your enlightenment, plus a good rifle, are now
to match your wits against the "primitive" red
95
96 CAMP CRAFT
man's in the great game of keeping alive and com-
fortable. Your blanket will be a leaf pile, your tent
a brush lean-to, your cuisine a forked stick and a
bark tranchoir. Your ditty-bag furnishes you salt,
tea, sugar, and pea meal — nothing else — and your
rifle has provided a grouse or the rod a fish.
To broil the grouse on a sassafras fork is simple
enough, even for an enHghtened white man, and
to plank the fish is also not out of his mental reach;
but if we are to enjoy tea and soup a container of
boiling water must be produced. Your folding
drinking-cup does not arouse any enthusiasm as a
pot to boil water in; better save it for the tea. How
are we to procure a container holding at least a
quart cf water ? How did the early Indian .? Well,
he made them out of bark, skins, tight-woven
basketry, pottery, cedar boxes with wooden tree-
nails, and, finally, dugouts. We want that tea and
that pea-meal soup, but it is nearly dark and there
is no time to search the woods for a birch or
an elm for bark. This leaves the dugout as the
sole remaining practicabiHty. First, get some good
hard stones from the brook for boiling your water.
This done, rake out a bed of embers, pile a layer of
stones on them, and pile a layer of embers atop with
a grating of black-jack oak sticks, spHt lengthwise,
to encourage the embers to continue. All this
predicates a pair of tongs, which are easy enough
COOK-KITS AND COOK-FIRES 97
to make out of the nearest young hickory or red oak
shoot. Flatten and cross-hatch in the middle with
your hatchet, flatten a grip on the ends, supple over
the fire and bend double, securing with a bit of
twine. You will need it to handle both embers and
stones.
Now for the dugout. Fell a young maple or
black birch 6 inches across and cut off a clear length
about 2 feet long. Flatten one side and make a set
of deep cuts along the flat face — **chamfering" it is
called — ending with a cut in the opposite direction.
Split off the chips with a series of lengthwise cuts
and you will perceive a long, shallow hollow taking
form. Cut and split, deepening and widening the
hollow and finish out with knife and hot co-^ls. A
hollow i^ inches deep by 3^ inches wide by 14
inches long will hold one quart of water. Cut a
pouring lip in one end and fill with water and you
are ready for the stones, which should be ready for
you. Dip them in at one end of the boat. It takes
six hot stones the size of an egg to bring a quart of
water to a boil. Put a pinch of tea in the drinking-
cup and pour on boiUng water. It will be ready in
four minutes. To make the soup, two teaspoonfuls
of erbswurst will make all you can eat. As I am
probably one of the few white men who have boiled
water, made tea, and again boiled it for fifteen
minutes and made a palatable soup in a log bowl
98 CAMP CRAFT
with hot stones, a few hints on the **technic" of
it are given here. The bowl, as above described,
took just an hour less five minutes to make, com-
plete. It held an even quart of water. At the fifth
stone it was boiling, and I steeped two cups of
tea in a folding aluminum drinking-cup. After that
two teaspoonfuls of erbswurst powder were added
and the stones applied one after the other, keeping
the bowl boiling for fifteen minutes. Pictures in
museum groups usually show the Indians handUng
dirty black stones with stick tongs, but if you
manage your fire right and leave the stones on the
fire till they are really hot, they will be clean as
ice, and though your boiling water will not be
exactly clean, it will not be dirty, as is the soup of a
digger Indian. It takes ten stones the size of an egg,
heated in the fire, to keep a bowl of quart size con-
tinuously boiling, and about one-half of it will be
boiled away, leaving a pint of very palatable soup,
albeit slightly dirty in spite of your best care. The
wood I used is red maple, which gives absolutely
no woody taste of any kind to the soup.
For meat, if you have no grouse and no fish, half
a dozen small birds will answer. I have done a
dozen small beach-snipe very nicely by broihng on
a wire out of the ditty-bag stretched across a large
maple fork — and they fed two men full.
If you happen to have a small bag of self-raising
COOK-KITS AND COOK-FIRES 99
flour, biscuits are not beyond your reach. Get a
club about 4 feet long, peel about a foot of one end
and drive it in slantwise over the fire, where it will
get roasting hot. Make up a stiff dough with your
flour and mould it into a long strip. When the club
is almost burning hot, wrap the strip around it and
replace the club over the fire, turning it now and then
as the strip of biscuit cooks. When done, face the
club your way and go to it !
Man can get along a day or so in primitive savagery
and have considerable fun out of it, instead of the
hardships usually dilated upon by the outdoor-fiction
artist, but an emergency ration in a small shallow
tin container makes his work much easier. I have
carried for years in the ditty-bag a small tin about
4 inches in diameter by ^ inch deep (originally the
top of some can). Generally it holds trout leaders,
but, made up as an emergency ration, it holds a
couple of slices of bacon, a paper of tea, two bouillon
capsules flattened, a little smoked beef, and a pilot
biscuit. There is a nail-hole in each side and a bit
of string passes through the holes and keeps in the
hardtack, under which is the rest of the ration.
With a nail driven through the hole into a bit of
hard wood you have a very passable frying-pan and
can do a fish in chunks nicely, after which it is ready
to boil you a dish of bouillon and cup of tea. Emer-
gency salt I always have in the ditty-bag in a hard-
.V-
loo CAMP CRAFT
rubber screw-top container. There are four meals
in this little ration, even with no help from fish or
game, and while one can always find fish, frog, or
bird, there are occasions when a quick, nourishing
lunch and a push on back to camp are better than
time spent in rustling game and an enforced night
in the open.
Another good emergency ration can be made from
the tin of a well-known brand of tobacco — Arcadia.
This is pressed seamless, with rounded corners, so
that it will slip into any pocket. It has no solder
anywhere to melt. It holds a whole cupful of water,
is 3>^x3^xi>^ inches deep and you can stow in
it tea, coffee, sugar, pork, bouillon, corn-meal, rice,
powdered soup-stock, erbswurst — in all two full days'
rations of condensed foods. With a nail-hole in
the side, it is ready to act as frying-pan, tea-pail,
soup-kettle, and oven, or you can suspend it over
the fire with a pothook by means of a wire passing
through holes in cover and side as shown.
The next step up the cuHnary ladder from the
emergency ration consists in the various compact
one-man and two-man cook-kits. I will venture
on a description of two of them. The first is a well-
known outfit, purchasable at any sporting-goods
store. It weighs 2j^ pounds and goes in your pack
or your pocket as a package 9 inches long by 4 inches
wide by 2 inches thick. Dissecting it, we get, first,
COOK-KITS AND COOK-FIRES loi
two cups 2x4x3^ inches deep, capacity of nearly
two ordinary cups; next a pail 2x4x8 inches deep,
holding i}4 quarts of water; then two long frying-
pans of pressed steel 9x4x1 inch deep, one with an
enlarged lip to close over the other to make a Dutch
oven; finally a folding wire grate 8 by 7 inches with
four 7^-inch wire legs and an upstander to hang
the pail in. All these pails, cups, and pans have
detachable wire handles which go inside of the
package, and there is still room for knives, forks,
spoons, and a lot of condensed provisions. The
meal for two or even six that can be cooked on this
rig is really astonishing. The pail stands in the
upstander of the grate to prevent any untoward
upsets and can be making a soup while tea is brewing
in one of the cups (double strength, so that it makes
all two people can drink), the frying-pan is just
right for fish, while the other pan is turning out
flapjacks. Most beginners with this kit do not
know how to manage the fire. The grate legs are
too short for the usual grid fire of such larger grates
as the regular camp-grate, which should not go less
than 10 inches above the ground. With the little
grate, build your fire of hardwood until you get
a substantial pile of live coals, meanwhile boiHng
water in the pail, then stick the grate down over the
coals and replenish underneath with oak, maple,
and hickory sticks as needed, a very few at a
I02 CAMP CRAFT
time, for the classic beginner's mistake is too much
fire.
Another excellent two-man cook-kit, soon to be
put on the market, is the one designed by Mr.
Phelps, a modest member of the great outdoor
brotherhood, whose original ideas in the art of going
light are well worth pubHshing. Mr. Phelps's kit is
shown in detail in the photographs herewith. The
whole outfit goes inside a 6 x 7>^-inch canvas water-
pail which folds over with a strap to make a packag.e
6 inches in diameter by 5 inches high. The kit
weighs lyi pounds and consists of two seamless tin
bowls 6 inches in diameter by 2}4 inches deep,
holding a quart each, a 6-inch steel frying-pan, two
6-inch flat plates, a 3 x 2 inch cup, knife, fork,
spoon, swab, two chain pothooks and the detachable
bales for bowls and pan. These latter deserve
especial mention. Any one who has tried cooking
in shallow pans and bowls with wire bales knows
how exasperatingly tippy they are apt to be. Phelps
circumnavigated this difficulty by making one side
of his wire bales double-wired and providing two
holes in one side of the bowls. The bale then snaps
into two holes at one side and one in the other and
is thus rigid and will not permit the bowl to spill
its contents. With this rig you can boil rice, make
a quart of tea, and fry a fish all at the same time, or
one of the bowls can be covered with one of the flat
v^
COOK-KITS AND COOK-FIRES 103
tin plates (which just fit) and used as a Dutch oven.
The chain pothooks are made of ordinary window-
sash chain with a brass curtain-hook at each end,
and not only are exceedingly stowable but allow
adjustment of the pail at any desired height by
hooking the upper hook into any link of the chain
that will give the right height.
I presume that my own cook-kit comes next in
this ascending scale of culinary grandeur. I never
feel comfortable as acting chef without three pails
about me. Less than that you can worry along with,
but with three you can have rice, soup, and tea all
going at once, or one can **be" a biscuit oven, while
another does cofFee, and the third puts the breath
of life into some dried apricots or has pork cubes
bubbling in it. No matter where you wander along
culinary trails, those three pots follow you like so
many kittens, and there's always a job for each.
The principal trouble with provisions in a pack-
sack is that they may get wet, and they are not
particularly available, especially the small parcels.
If you put them all in one water-proof bag inside the
pack, said bag is likely to be lumpy and knobby
and not in the least accommodating to artistic
stowing. My cogitations on these matters led me
to the principle that all small provisions are better
stowed in the cook-kit, where they cannot get wet
or lost, than anywhere else, leaving but a few large
104 CAMP CRAFT
bags of bulk provisions to go in the top of the pack.
Further, if the cook-kit is of the right shape to stow
on top of the pack-sack it will be handiest there,
as easier to get at for noon lunches, first out of the
way when making camp at night, and last to be
packed on hitting the trail again next morning.
I wanted something of small diameter and lengthy
enough to strap nicely on top of the pack, and so
began experiments with two tin pails which ate each
other like a collapsible stovepipe and inside of which
were all small provisions and utensils. These gave
way to two aluminum pots holding a gallon each,
7 inches diameter hy 6% inches high. The covers
were held on with snap-hooks and the handle of the
cover took a twig pothook or a chain one with equal
facility. Nesting inside of one pot is a tin tea and
cofFee pail, inside of which are stowed bags of sugar,
corn-meal, rice, salt, and macaroni, a pound tin box
of bacon, a pound tin box of codfish, dried onions,
beef capsules, soup-powder, and tea. In the other
pot go two nesting 7 x 2^-inch mixing-pans, three
6 X i-inch tin pans, three 6-inch tin plates, a can of
14 fresh eggs, cans of matches, cofFee, baking-powder,
and butter. Empty, the kit weighs 4>^ pounds;
loaded, 12 pounds. The two pots go back to back in
a brown canvas pillow bag, or, as Mr. Phelps's pail
idea is excellent, I will doubtless put them in a water-
proof canvas pail bag, 13 by 7 inches, hereafter, and
COOK-KITS AND COOK-FIRES 105
the package is strapped on the pack by an extra pair
of straps for the purpose. Inside the pack I carry a
lo-inch aluminum plate, a blue enamel cup, and a
6-inch steel frying-pan with the handle, as this latter
useful adornment is not in the way at all and saves
the bothersome attachable-handle nuisance. My
bulk provisions are white flour, pancake flour, pork,
dried apricots and prunes, and a few fresh white
onions, in all 7 pounds; or 15 pounds of provi-
sions in all, making about 50 pounds of food when
cooked, enough for one man for two weeks or two
men a week without either fish or game. As you
can surely count on one or both amounting to one-
third of the total food supply, the cruising radius
of this rig is about three weeks for one man.
This kit will cook for six but is at its best for two or
three men, who will usually consume a gallon of almost
anything they set their tongues to in a single meal.
All of the kit can be bought in a department store,
as there is not a patentable or patented article in it.
As I have no room for a wire grate, I have come
to prefer the dingle-stick fire (shown in the illus-
tration) for lunch, and crotch-and-cross-pole rig for
supper and breakfast. The dingle stick is a stout
lo-foot sapling with one end shoved in the ground
and a support of two forks rigged as a shears holding
it out over the fire. From it hang by chain pothooks
the two aluminum pots and the tea-pail. Usually
io6 CAMP CRAFT
for lunch I have chocolate, a couple of scrambled
eggs out of the egg-can, and some warmed-up fish
or game, and corn bread or hasty pudding. For this
meal, then, you need but the tea-pail, one pot, and the
frying-pan. For supper, both pots, the pail, and the
frying-pan will usually be at work, with the tin pans
for mixing, etc. While two forked sticks and a
cross-pole are the classic camp-range, the forks are
not easy to get, and a quicker rig is to drive two
3-foot stakes into the ground and lash the cross-pole
to them with a couple of bits of copper wire out of
the ditty-bag. Building a fire of hardwood, you
soon have the tea-pail and the two pots simmering
over the fire on chain hooks, the latter hanging by
their covers, which are held on by stout snap-hooks
on each side.
Before leaving the small kits the mention of some
sort of a hot-lunch rig is in order. I believe that
half of the headaches and upset stomachs that
anglers seem to be heir to is due to the cold lunch
which the landlord sticks in your creel or fish-basket
at the last minute, and which usually turns out to
be made of lead sandwiches, concrete pie, and a
couple of petrified eggs. Your stomach looks in
vain for the good old hot coffee which serves more
to warm up the rest of the edibles and get your
gastric juices in action than anything else. I show
herewith a species of pail, bent to fit the body, with
COOK-KITS AND COOK-FIRES 107
a wire hook to hang it over the fire and a cover
which serves as a cup. Department stores keep
it in tin for the munificent sum of 25 cents, or the
outfitters will sell you what is known as the Japanese
army cook-kit in aluminum for $1.75. This is also
kidney-shaped, size 3J^x6>^x5>^ inches, weight
16 ounces, fastened up with strap and buckle. All
these are stamped in one piece, with no joints,
whereas the tin one is soldered and you will have
to watch the fire. The Japanese kit has an inset
tray which would do as a frying-pan, giving you two
cooking-utensils and a cup cover. The department-
store affair is big enough to take two shallow tin
dishes, useful for either frying or as an eating dish.
If I were taking an outdoor lunch with this kit I
would have a little bag of tea, ditto of sugar,
some salt, a packet of bacon, and a packet of erbs-
wurst or a packet of some one of the condensed
soups, such as bean or mushroom. When lunch time
comes you can then supplement the sandwich with a
good hot cup of tea and in ten to fifteen minutes' cook-
ing have a couple of platefuls of palatable, nourishing
soup, and your bacon will serve to fry a fish. After
that you can fish or tramp till the sun sets and the
moon comes up and yet not get that empty feeling.
There is plenty of room in this container for all your
fishing-tackle, compass, and other small duffel, so
that it acts as a sort of a tin ditty-bag, so to speak.
io8 CAMP CRAFT
When there are six or eight in the party, all these
go-light cooking-kits had best give way to the
standard aluminum nesting sets manufactured for
the purpose. You want at least four pails and they
must hold several gallons each; you must have
mixing-pans and at least two large frying-pans with
detachable handles. A stout wire grate, with its
own legs, replaces the cross-pole cook-range and a
folding baker makes biscuits, a dozen at a time, or
corn bread in cakes large enough for eight hungry
campers. There is no getting away from this outfit
with any comfort, and a party of that size can
easily pack the whole kit between them. The
pictures in this chapter tell the story concisely. In
these illustrations, by the way, I have shown the
fire-wood placed but not lighted, as it is almost im-
possible to get sharp pictures when there is any
camp-fire smoke about. The illustrations show an
aluminum nesting outfit in action, a folding baker
and the way to use it, a camp kitchen rigged for
handy management of the provisions, and an eating
fly with table improvised from logs and stakes
under it. Examining first the utensils, you will note
three pails and two frying-pans (on the wire grate).
The larger pails are 12x12 inches and 10 x 8 inches,
respectively, and hold 4 and 2 gallons. The largest
is for general boiling-water supply and the second
is doing soup. The third pail is boiUng rice and the
COOK-KITS AND COOK-FIRES 109
frying-pan has presumably a dozen quail in it. Note
the arrangements in cut form of the split hardwood
and the wire grate. We find that a crib of crossed
split black-jack gives the most heat for the longest
time and leaves the best bed of coals. Standing
alongside the fire is a gallon pail of tea, set there to
be handy for boiling water on the tea grounds just
before supper is served. The other pail has prunes in
it, just simmering over a bed of live coals raked out
from under the grate. Five pails and a frying-pan are
at work for we have a party of eight to feed.
But there is still more to the story of this supper.
Note the biscuit-baker and its fire, also the dough-
mixing-pan, the bread-board for rolling out the
dough, and the second pan with a cover on it from
the largest pail to keep the first batch of biscuits
hot while the second is doing. About sixteen biscuits
to the batch is the best that we can do and I never
saw a party of eight yet who couldn't stow thirty-two
biscuits between them. There is no better rig for
baking fresh biscuits or corn bread or roasting meats
than the folding reflector baker, yet through badly
made and managed fires inexperienced campers
usually succeed in burning the bottoms of their
biscuits black before the tops have begun to brown.
While certain woods such as long-leaf yellow pine
will give tall, hot flames, high enough to roast both
ends of a biscuit, the reverse is true of most of the
no CAMP CRAFT
hardwoods. Wherefore the best fire for the baker
is made by driving in two pairs of stakes absolutely
upright and about i8 inches high, each pair being
3 inches apart. Between them are slipped short
3-inch logs 2 feet long, one above the other, making
a little wall of logs 18 inches high. Flat against
this is built the fire of vertical sticks of hardwood
well chinked with dry chips and twigs. When the
biscuits are in the pan and ready to be done, touch
off your fire and you will have a roaring flame 30
inches high at once. The biscuits ought to rise and
brown in ten minutes. Have an extra green log
handy and if you see that your under biscuit faces
are getting burned before the tops are done, lay the
log across the lower face of the baker where it will
effectually stop at least half of the heat-rays. And
never let the baker become sooty or rusty. The
biscuit-pans can be as black as you please, but if
your reflector baker is going to reflect heat it must
be kept bright and shiny. The bakers come in two
sizes, 8x12 inches and 10 x 18 inches. They pack in
flat canvas bags, with a shoulder-strap like a school-
book bag, and weigh with bread-board 2 pounds and
5 pounds, respectively. So long as flour, baking-
powder, and corn-meal hold out, there will always
be fresh bread in camp day after day, week after
week, if you take along a reflector baker — also roast
'coon, 'possum, squirrel, duck, any beast or fowl
COOK-KITS AND COOK-FIRES iii
that can be persuaded into an 8 x 12-inch baking-
pan.
When a large party is on the trail, moving camp
from day to day either by canoe, pack and saddle,
or back pack, it saves much time and exasperation
to have all the edibles in one or more side-opening
tump-bags which can be hung up on stakes handy
to the cook-fire. I described one of these in the
Sportsman s Workshop some time ago. The bag is
22 X 9 inches diameter with long side lips and a
stout maple stick through the hem of one side by
which the two lips can be rolled up tight like a
curtain roll. When all is snug, a sort of shawl-strap
harness is strapped around the bag and it is ready
for canoe, saddle, or shoulder-strap harness. The
rig is almost water-proof and the 8-inch paraffined
muslin bags inside are equally capable of keeping
out water, so that an upset or swimming a ford will
in no way wet down your provisions.
Arrived at the chosen camp site for the night,
by the time the tents are up it is likely to be dark,
and meanwhile the chef has his range built, the cook-
kit unpacked, and the two provision-bags opened
and hung by their maple sticks to a cross-pole on
two stakes handy to the fire. An acetylene camp-
lamp hung so as to light the whole cooking scene
robs cooking by night of its terrors, and, as the
provisions are used from the food-bags, they are
112 CAMP CRAFT
returned to their place in the provision-kit, so that
nothing gets lost in the dark. Two men make a
good cooking crew, leaving the other six to put up
tents, rig the sleeping outfits, and build the main
camp-fire. It is hopeless to expect one man to cook
for eight and besides rustle his own fire-wood and
water. The worst meal I ever cooked was when
expected to do that very thing. I had had a long,
hard day's canoeing, with innumerable portages
and down trees. Every one was dog-tired, and the
rest just sat back and smoked, letting me chop my
own fire-wood, haul the water, make the cook-range
and get on the pots to boil. Presently the last of
the fire-wood disappeared, the pots stopped boiHng
(the larger ones hadn't begun yet), and everything
came to a standstill. It was dark and every one was
hungry, but I preferred going hungry to bed to
chopping up another supply of fire-wood, and told
them so.
No, it takes two men to do any kind of a job.
If the other man wants to cook, I am right on the
job keeping up fires, fetching water, preparing the
edibles, etc., and when I cook I expect him to do the
same by me.
Finally, if even a stand of only two nights is to be
made, it pays to put up an eating tent-fly and make
a rough log dining-table. A sheet of water-proof
green tent cloth 6 x lo will weigh 3^ pounds and
COOK-KITS AND COOK-FIRES 113
can be stowed away with the cook-kit. While there
are a dozen quick and easy methods, one way of
putting it up is simply a ridge-pole nailed to two
trees and the cloth stretched over it with a slight
fall each way. In fair weather one can eat com-
fortably around a camp-fire with a plate in one's
lap and a bowl in the hands, but when it rains you
will enjoy life more standing up to a table on which
are your plate, soup-bowl and cofFee-cup with
butter-can, sugar-bag and "cow" on the table,
handy for every one. If you are to sit at a table,
it is well to bear in mind that the standard height
of it is 32 inches (or from the muzzle to the locks
of your shotgun), and the standard bench height
16 inches.
CHAPTER VII
THE CHEF ON THE TRAIL
THE subject of camp cookery is so vast, and
there are so many kinds of camps and ways
of cooking, that in this article but one phase of camp
cookery can be treated, the labors of the chef on
the trail; that is, the nomadic camp, either of a
canoe trip, a hiking tour for big game or game-fish, or
a pack-and-saddle trip through the mountains. The
recipes, foodstuffs, cooking apparatus and how to use
it, that I have had personal experience with will alone
be dwelt upon; it may be something of an advertise-
ment for these particular kits, but I cannot help
that. Certes, I owe all of them much good-will — •
but others may write on other apparatus which they
know about from personal use, and welcome; we
are always glad to hear the facts. For it is a curious
thing that thousands who purchase the standard
nesting cooking-kits, or the various patent ones, little
know how to use them fully, and might almost as well
take along a lot of kitchen utensils and fry every-
thing from grouse to oatmeal. Yet every first-class
cooking-outfit is, and should be, a complete bakery,
grill, " stewry," and frying-outfit combined, and
114
THE CHEF ON THE TRAIL 115
every camper who buys one should know how to
use it to the full extent of its possibilities.
In general, for trail cookery, one should know how
to make fresh breadstuflFs, to cook good, palatable
soups, stews, vegetables, and desserts, to make such
beverages as tea, coffee, and chocolate, to broil wild
meats of all kinds, and to fry fish, flapjacks, and
fritters without getting them greasy. Further than
this, he should know how to serve these things
without letting them get cold and indigestible. Even
poor cooking will taste well at first in camp, as one's
appetite is ravenous and the open air brings our
bodily efficiency up to the loo-per-cent mark; but
inside of a week I warrant you that such cooking
will result in headaches and indigestional upsets
and take half the pleasure out of your outing in the
woods. But any good cook-kit can do all the above-
mentioned cooking operations if you only know how
to use it.
To make breadstufFs, you need as utensils mixing-
pans and some sort of an oven or something that
can be used as an oven; to boil soups, vegetables,
mulligans, and desserts, you must have at least two
pails, unless going entirely alone; for broiling, the
forked stick, the wire grate, or the hot frying-pan will
be needed, and, for frying, one or two small 7-inch
frying-pans are ample, as the temptation is rather to
overdo in this department. Wherefore, see that
ii6 CAMP CRAFT
your cook-kit has the above necessities to do with.
A wire grate is also a handy but not essential ad-
dition, and is a great convenience with a large party.
I have made out with the cross-pole camp-fire and
some pothooks for hanging over the cooking-pails,
but it was not nearly so convenient as with a double
wire grate that would take four pails from 2-gallon
down to 4-pint, cooking all the vegetables, soups,
and stews needed for eight persons. Other little con-
veniences that may well be added are a swabbing-
stick for washing up, a gas-lamp so that you can see
what you are doing when cooking at night, and a
set of chain pothooks, which are easily stowable,
light, and adjustable to any height over the fire
desired. Also a pair of ten-cent cotton gloves,
which enable you to pick up hot firebrands, pail
handles and other calorific commodities without
getting your fingers burned.
If the camp is a nomadic one instead of a per-
manent location, it is imperative to select only such
foodstuffs as are light in themselves and to which
many times their weight of water is added when
cooking. There is no sense in packing a lot of water
in the form of potatoes, green vegetables, meat, and
eggs when every brook you meet is full of it, and
you have a rifle or rod to accumulate fresh meat
as you go. Your provisions should have an average
capacity of making 6 pounds of cooked food for
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THE CHEF ON THE TRAIL 117
every pound of provisions carried. Some of them,
such as dried soup-greens, rhubarb, onions, and
spinach, will make 15 to 20 pounds of food to the
pound carried; others, such as erbswurst, dried
egg-powder, and the various dried soup-stocks will
make as high as forty times their weight of cooked
food, but the bulk of your stuff, such as rice, flour,
pork, corn-meal, and dried fruits, will run four to six
times its weight in cooked food. From i^ to 2
pounds of provisions per man per day will be ample
in such foodstuffs, and they are healthy and nour-
ishing and taste good. One never tires of them,
whether out a week or a month.
Most veterans in the art of living out-of-doors
and hitting the trail daily are agreed that the Indian
and guide's way of two meals a day, with a light
pocket lunch at noon, is the only way to get time
enough to make progress. Wherefore, count on
cooking a breakfast about eight times as substantial
as the coffee, rolls, and fruit affair of civilization,
putting away part of it for a warmed-up lunch at
noon; and then when camp-making time comes,
usually 3 130 to 4 P. M., in the spring and fall, or
6 in the summer, another tremendous feed will be
assembled.
For breakfast, coffee is the beverage, two cups per
man, and big, generous cups, too; you'd better pre-
pare about a gallon for four men, made with a liberal
ii8 CAMP CRAFT
grab of coffee-grounds to each man. Bring to a boil,
let simmer for ten minutes, and then set on some hot
ashes until wanted. I have made it in three kits,
the nesting aluminum, the Forester aluminum and
tin, and the Stopple pocket-kit with its large quart
container. In the first two there is a special pail
for the purpose, usually the smallest of the set. The
worst coffee-pots I know of are the agate-ware and tin
kitchen pots which fit nowhere in any known pack
and invariably come unsoldered as to spout and
handle in the camp-fire.
There are several good breakfast breadstuffs, all
easily prepared, of which flapjacks, wheat cakes
and corn bread are the ones most frequently used.
Corn bread will stick under your ribs in a hard day's
work longer than any of the others and is easily
made in twenty minutes' time. My own recipe is: i
cup flour to ^ cup of corn-meal, 2 heaping teaspoon-
fuls of baking-powder, one level teaspoonful of salt,
and a tablespoonful of sugar; mix these dry, add a
beaten egg and enough milk-water to make a batter
that will just pour, add a tablespoonful of melted
butter, and stir vigorously. Grease your baking-
pans, pour half an inch of the batter in each, and
into the oven with them. This last sentence means
more in camp than it does at home. If you have
a reflector baker of the 12 x 15 x 8-inch size, the
above recipe will just fill one pan nicely for a thick
THE CHEF ON THE TRAIL 119
cake, or, better, divided into two pans, making two
cakes about an inch thick when baked. Without a
reflector baker the batter can be baked in the frying-
pans of the nesting set, with one of the mixing-pans in-
verted over the frying-pan and hot coals on top. Set
in a bright, clear heat, but not on Hve coals, or the
bottom of the cake will surely be burned. With the
Forester cook-kit, one of the large aluminum pots
makes an ideal oven. There are three baking-tins,
and this batter will fill two of them. Put the third
tin empty in one of the aluminum pots, upside down,
and set one of your pans full of batter on it. Put on
cover of pot and cover it with live coals. The deep-
lipped shape of the cover is identical with the cast-
iron Dutch oven, and the pot makes a fine aluminum
Dutch oven, being set right on the live coals. The
pan inside is lifted by the inverted pan that it sits
on, about an inch above the metal, so that the cake
is in no danger of being burned. For the Stopple kit
you would need about half the batter given by the
recipe, as it will bake enough for one man at a batch.
Fill the long frying-pan without a lip with batter
nearly full, put on the pan with a lip, set the two on
the grate with a bed of live coals underneath (not
too low, to avoid burning), and some more live coals on
top. In all three kits the bread is done in two batches,
the second cooking while breakfast is in progress.
The nesting aluminum and Forester kit will do
I20 CAMP CRAFT
enough for four men in two batches, and the Stopple
enough for two.
For flapjacks I usually take along a small bag of
prepared pancake flour, requiring only the addition
of water or diluted evaporated cream to make a
batter ready for the pan. Sometimes I enrich it
with the addition of an egg or a spoonful of egg-
powder; more often it is just wet down and fried
forthwith. If done right, there is no reason why
flapjacks should not form a staple and healthful
breadstuff. Your care will be not to get them greasy,
and the only way I know of to avoid greasiness is to
keep a cup or container of pork or bacon fat on the
side, pour a little in the hot pan, and then pour it all
off again, every drop that will drain, back into the
cup. The residue will be ample to do a cake, and
it will be browned nicely — in effect a baked cake,
not a fried one. About eight flapjacks per man is a
good allowance, or four if you are getting them
thick — a thing to be avoided. If you have a big
party to deal with, use one large frying-pan and drop
the cakes on it three at a time, turning them with
the knife; otherwise the time-honored flip with the
pan itself will do and is always provocative of
much camp hilarity.
For breakfast meat, fried fish are usually the staple
raw material, or else big game steaks sauteed in the
frying-pan, the gravy left over being mixed with
THE CHEF ON THE TRAIL 121
water and flour and cooked to make a "dope" for
the cakes. To do your fish, fry first a generous slice
of bacon to each man and set them aside in one of
your mixing-pans to keep warm. Roll the fish in a
little egg-white or egg-powder and then in corn-meal
and fry slowly, with a cover over the pan. The
process is really a sort of roasting, the hot fat form-
ing an envelope around the fish. Be sure that your
fat is screeching-hot when you put the fish in, other-
wise the fat will get into the tissues of the fish and
you will have a greasy mess. Allow ten minutes
to each side of the fish, and do not get your fire too
hot or you will burn the corn-meal envelope. Except
for quick browning of pork cubes there is no use
in a frying fire that will melt a gun-barrel; it burns
everything before it gets time to cook. Fat reaches
a temperature of some 350 degrees or higher at
flash-point and therefore cooks flesh faster than
any boiling process, which is Hmited to 212 degrees
or less, depending upon the altitude; but even hot
fat requires some twenty minutes to cook a steak
or fish, and the upper side should be protected from
cold by a cover over the pan. To meet this need,
the covers of the aluminum nesting pots fit also
the frying-pans; and the pans in the Forester kit do
the same for the two aluminum frying-pans which
come with the set; also the Hpped pan of the Stopple
kit is arranged to perform the same service for its
122 CAMP CRAFT
second frying-pan. If fresh game fails you, there
is recourse to creamed codfish and pork cubes. I
always carry a little codfish along — in the steak form,
not the shredded — as it is one of the lightest and most
compact and nourishing forms of flesh. All it needs
is two boihngs to get out the salt, pouring ofF the
water after each boiHng of, say, ten minutes' duration.
Then add a thumb of butter, a tablespoonful or so
of evaporated cream and a Httle flour for a thickener,
stir, and boil for five minutes more, and it is ready to
serve. Pork cubes are delicious with rice. Cut the
expeditionary pork into dice size, fill a frying-pan
with water, and parboil the cubes until they swell
up to about twice their former Hneal dimensions.
Pour off" water and fry lightly to a nice brown; be-
ware of overdoing this, for pork is very prone to
"try" out, leaving nothing but a mess of bitter,
wooden, burnt cubes behind. If browned over a
red-hot fire and tumbled immediately out of the
pan and mixed with rice, they are very succulent
and make a good breakfast meat.
For a cereal, oatmeal is the old standby, the three-
minute varieties being best for camp use. Bulk
oatmeal has not been precooked long enough at
the factory and usually requires twenty minutes
at least of careful boiling and stirring to be ready
to eat; and there is no comestible more prone to
burn nor more mussy to clean up after than this
THE CHEF ON THE TRAIL 123
same oatmeal. For this reason some camps have
discarded it entirely, but I generally take it if there
is room, for it is light and sustaining and very palat-
able with sugar and evaporated cream. Cook over
a slow fire about ten minutes, the longer the better,
so that you do not burn it. The two best cereals
for breakfast are corn-meal and rice, using the former
if flapjacks are the breadstuff and the latter if corn
bread is being baked. Take one of the gallon pots
of either the nesting aluminum or Forester cook-
kits, put in a grab of corn-meal or rice to each nose,
and add a teaspoonful of salt. For corn mush just
enough water to hydrate the meal is to be brought
to a boil and the corn-meal stirred into it; for rice,
fill the pot nearly full of water and add the rice. It
should then boil furiously for thirty-five minutes,
when the rice-water is drained oflF and saved for
soup-stock and the rice left to steam itself nearly dry.
With the corn mush stirring and occasional addition
of water will be necessary. Serve with sugar and
cream or as a vegetable on the side with the meat.
It is also delicious fried and may be served so if
there is time and some bacon fat to use up.
No camp breakfast is complete without a liberal
deal of fruit. It is not only a general intestinal
regulator, but serves as a basis for the assimilation
of sugar, one of the three elements of bodily nutri-
ment. All outdoorsmen, when working hard on
124 CAMP CRAFT
trail life, crave sugar and will even pack a big tin
"log cabin'' full of maple syrup, making their back
serve their belly to satisfy this craving. There is
no doubt but that sugar is one of the heaviest pro-
visions carried, no matter in what form, but there
is no leaving it behind, for none of the tabloid sub-
stitutes are anything but sweeteners, intended only
to satisfy the palate, being in no sense nutriment,
but rather a drug. I always carry four kinds of dried
fruits: apricots, apples, peaches, and stoned prunes,
and mix them together to make a tutti-frutti fruit
stew, with the addition of sugar and water. Until
you have tried it you have no idea how these four
supplement each other in their various quaHties.
Dried apples, alone, seem to lack enthusiasm, apricots
are a bit too tart, peaches are disappointing, and
prunes are medicine. But mix them and you will
take out of that pot, after some twenty minutes*
slow stewing, a dessert that your palate will fly at
with rapturous relish, no less !
The midday lunch has always been a fascinating
problem to me. No one wants to stop travel or
hunting or fishing to get out the whole cook-kit and
build a regular feed, yet we must have a bite 1 One
pot should suffice, and that will do tea or chocolate,
preferably the latter, over a small fire and a dingle
stick scratched up out of the brush. Chocolate is
really wonderful in the amount of sustaining food
THE CHEF ON THE TRAIL 125
that it packs in a tiny compass. A teaspoonful to
each person is ample, and a small bag of it, 4x6
inches in size, will hold enough for a whole trip.
It needs about twenty minutes' boiling, and the
evaporated cream and sugar should be stirred in
while boiling. With it you want a sandwich saved
over from breakfast, a handful of nuts and raisins,
a pipe, and a rest. The whole operation will not
take over an hour from the time you start looking
for fire-wood until the kit is repacked and you are
on the trail again.
When the day's work is over and a definite stop
is made for the nightly camp, the cooks in the party
should set about at once on the Big Feed, leaving
the tents and browse to the others. The assistant
cook's first duty is that of fire and water commis-
sioner. While he is getting the canvas camp-bucket
filled with fresh water from the brook he should see
to it that the larger pots are filled also, to give the
chef something to start on. If there is a wire grate
in the outfit, it is set up, and the assistant cook splits
a grid of 2-inch logs of black-jack oak, red maple,
pignut hickory, or birch for it. For the pots a
camp-fire cross-pole is rigged. The classic form of
this is two forked stakes and a cross-pole, but forked
stakes are hard to drive and not easy to find off-
hand; so I usually carry a pair of small lengths of
copper wire to fasten the cross-pole with and have
126 CAMP CRAFT
done it with ordinary twine. Either wire or chain
pothooks are next gotten out and hung from the
cross-pole, the fire started, and the larger pots hung
over to boil. The nesting aluminum sets have wire pot
bails; the Forester pots have a rigid aluminum handle
on the cover, and the cover is held to the pot by two
side snap-hooks, so that it can be lifted or carried
or hung by its cover. Our proposed menu will be
soup, stew, a vegetable, a cereal, fried or broiled
meat, biscuits, fruit and tea. That's quite a feed
when you come to add it up, a gallon of each to
every four men. For soups I have found the pre-
pared powders sold at the sportsman's stores excel-
lent, only you must follow the directions on the
package. For instance, take mushroom powder.
If properly cooked it will give twenty plates of as
dehcious a soup, tasting something like chicken
puree, as you ever ate, and all from one little package
about 2 inches, cubed and weighing but a couple
of ounces. If you just tilt the powder into a pot of
boiling water and go off and forget it you will get a
queer beverage, hardly palatable, and will find most
of the powder, still uncooked, sticking to the bottom
of the pot. Most of these powders are to be first
mixed with cold water until the powder is thoroughly
dissolved, and then stirred into your boiUng pot and
afterward stirred frequently until each grain of the
powder has taken up its proper amount of water
THE CHEF ON THE TRAIL 127
and swelled up to a good many times its dehydrated
bulk. Some of them contain two separate packages
of powder, which are to be moistened separately
and then stirred into the pot. I vary these soups
with home-brewed decoctions of my own, of which
the following is a sample: SHce in one potato or
equivalent of dehydrated potato, one onion or the
same in the dried onion chips, a handful of dried
soup-greens, a Httle rice, ditto macaroni, ditto celery
salt, and boil in your gallon pot for half an hour.
Just before serving stir in one beef-extract cube
to each person, and you will have as appetizing a
soup as four men ever ate ! If there is fresh game
in camp, all the bones and odd scraps of meat are
put in with the above. Erbswurst-powder is also
fine, added to any soup mixture or served alone. It
positively must be boiled at least fifteen minutes
to become palatable and digestible. It is, essentially,
ground-up and dehydrated pea-meal already partly
cooked, with fine powder of bacon mixed with it,
and the whole compressed into a paper cyHnder
about the size of a candle. This powder will swell
up, every grain of it, to such a bulk that a teaspoonful
of it will make a cupful of thick soup; but it requires
fifteen to twenty minutes' cooking, with occasional
stirring, to do this; and one should not serve it
while any of the powder still has a tendency to
settle on the bottom of the pot, for that is a sure
128 CAMP CRAFT
sign that it is not yet cooked. The particles will
float in the liquor when done.
A second pot will be wanted for your stew. The
basis of this is game, either chunks of animal flesh
or birds. The latter are quickest prepared for the
stew by opening the skin at the breast, ripping off"
skin, feathers, backbone, and entrails in one fell
swoop, and then cutting off legs and rump from the
residue. You have, then, practically, all the meat
of the fowl worth saving, and it is quickly done with-
out any muss or feather-plucking. I once saw Frank
Stick prepare six grouse for the mulHgan this way
in about five minutes' work. In the stew goes rice,
erbswurst, macaroni, with potatoes and tomatoes
if there are any such heavy and bulky provisions
along; otherwise the dried varieties are just as good
and will be there, full size, good as new, restored to
life again, when the mulHgan is served. For a
vegetable, boiled rice or macaroni, both prepared
in the way described above. For breadstuffs, bis-
cuit, or corn bread. The former are easy to make in
camp. Mix a cup of flour, a teaspoonful of baking-
powder, a Httle salt, and a tablespoonful of pork-fat
suet. This latter is to be mixed in thoroughly with
the hands, working it over and over in the mixing-
pan until thoroughly incorporated into the flour.
Add one cupful of diluted cream to make a stiff dough.
Roll out on the back of a large plate, handling gently,
THE CHEF ON THE TRAIL 129
and having plenty of flour on your hands, on the
roller, and on the plate. Cut out biscuits with the
top of the baking-powder can and put them in your
baking-pans, first sprinkling a little flour on the
bottom of the pan. Bake as with corn bread. The
things to guard against are getting too much suet,
or shortening, and handhng or beating your dough
too much; also putting the biscuits too close to-
gether. They want room to rise and swell up. The
fruits for dessert I have already spoken of, and, as
for tea, all it needs is steeping four or five minutes
in water which has been brought to a boil. I prefer
the Ceylon teas because their grounds settle to the
bottom of the pail when steeped, so that they will
pour without a strainer, though the nesting aluminum
pails for tea and coffee already have an inside strainer.
In making the above meal four pots will be wanted,
which the nesting aluminum outfit has; but with
the Forester it is necessary to make one of the
mixing-pans do duty to stew the fruit, as the kit
has two gallon pots and one three-quart pail, all of
which are on duty elsewhere.
Let us look over these three kits, close at hand,
to see just what they contain and what each article
is for. Beginning with the four-man nesting alumi-
num outfit, there are three nesting pots, the largest
about 9 inches by ^]4. inches, holding 13 pints or
over a gallon and a half; one 9-inch and one lo-inch
I30 CAMP CRAFT
frying-pan with detachable handles; one tea and
coffee pot, 6x6 inches, holding 4 pints; 4 plates, 4
cups, 4 soup-bowls, 4 knives, 4 forks, 4 teaspoons
and 4 dessert-spoons. Weight about 8 pounds, size
io>^ inches diameter by 8>^ inches high. The outfit
seems to lack mixing-pans, as furnished, but these
can be added in the 1 1 x 4-inch size to fit over the
largest pot.
The Forester outfit is a mixture of tin and alumi-
num utensils, on the principle that, while aluminum
is essential for the large utensils and the plates one
eats off (because the cutting of knives on tinware
soon rusts and ruins the utensil), there is no reason
why baking and mixing pans, small plates, etc.,
should not be of light tin. Furthermore, the space
inside the cook-kit is the best place to carry all
small provisions, such as tea, coffee, butter, con-
densed cream, salt, corn-meal, soup-powders, beef-
cubes, chocolate, baking-powder, etc. These things
are perishable, easily lost in a pack-sack, their pack-
ages will break and open out all over everything
under the strains of the pack rope or harness, and
most of them are ruined if wetted. The outfit,
therefore, comprises two gallon aluminum pots, 7^
inches diameter by Gyi inches height, which go back
to back in a lacing-up bag, suitable for a pillow at
night; two 7 x 3-inch tin mixing-pans, three Gyi x i-
inch tin baking-pans, used also for soup-plates;
THE CHEF ON THE TRAIL 131
three 6-inch tin plates, one 9-inch aluminum plate,
two 7-inch aluminum frying-pans with handles, one
aluminum cup, and one tin tea-pail of about 7 pints'
capacity, used for tea, coffee, chocolate, stewed
fruits, etc. Weight of Forester kit ^yi pounds, size
13x7^ inches diameter. No knives, forks, or
spoons are furnished, though there is plenty of room
for them. Most campers have their own table outfit
of this kind, the cook-kit being a separate institution,
and any one purchasing one would hardly care to
load up with a lot of tableware which he personally
would have no use for. In fact, in selecting any of
the standard nesting aluminum ware one would do
well to pick out such utensils as will suit his indi-
vidual needs, always providing that the utensils
will cook for a party of three or four, and that they
all are of the proper sizes to nest. Room is generally
found for the tableware, cups, bowls, etc., inside the
cofFee-pot, or they can be carried elsewhere and small
provisions stowed there, particularly if each member
of the party already has his own personal eating kit.
The Stopple kit consists of an oblong rectangular
pail holding a quart, 9 x 4^ x 2% inches inside,
with two big cups, each holding nearly half a quart,
fitting over each end of the large container. Inside
of it are two sheet-iron frying-pans, one with a lip
fitting over the other, the size being 8^x4x1^
inches deep. Detachable wire handles are provided
132 CAMP CRAFT
for all the utensils. Inside of the pans is a folding
grate, which opens out to form a grid about 8 inches
square. There is also room here for the wire handles,
several forks, spoons, and one large stirring-spoon.
The rig answers very well for two men and I have
given methods of using it earher in this article.
The quart pail stands in a wire bracket forming part
of the folding grate when cooking, and will come to
a boil from the flames under the grate playing
around it while you are using the frying-pans. I have
gotten many a meal quickly and easily with it and
doubt if it can be beaten for a one-man or two-man
outfit. Two of them, one to each man, would give
the chef quite a layout. For example, he has two
quart pails, one for tea and the other for soup; four
half-quart utensils, one of which can do a stew for
two while the other does your fruit, leaving the
other two for cups. Two of the frying-pans will take
care of fish or flesh, while the other pair prepare
your breadstuff's. For quick and handy getting up
a light meal this combination is good. One must
study his fire, as the grate is small; I usually keep
another fire going alongside the grate and transfer
coals and brands to it as needed. For larger parties
than two, you want the kits with gallon pots, as it is
a serious matter to feed four hungry men, with the
cook's reputation hanging in the balance, and one
must have the things to do with !
THE CHEF ON THE TRAIL 133
A word in conclusion as to carrying bulk pro-
visions. For a party of four or five men for two
or three weeks' grub, the best scheme I have yet
encountered is the paraffined muslin food-bags,
8 inches diameter and 6 to 10 inches height. These
collapse to flat packages like thick, round pancakes
when packed and piled one atop the other in the food-
bags. To get the one you want without pawing over
all the others, a side-opening tump-bag is the thing,
and when rolled up tight and strapped this bag is as
rain and water proof as the standard lo-inch end-
opening tump-bag. For short trips for four men
or for long ones for one or two, these round muslin
food-bags are too large and introduce too much
waste-bag material in packing. So far I have met
no company that puts out small paraffined muslin
food-bags, except one that made up a set to order
for a Western sportsman who ordered them specially
for his own use; but I have made up at home a set
of 4 X 6-inch and 4 x lo-inch bags of paraffined sheet
muslin, bought from the outfitters', besides some
smaller bags, 3 x 4-inch, for such commodities as
tea, salt, and chocolate, and I use these for all trips
where not over 10 pounds of provisions are to be
carried. All the smaller bags stow away in the cook-
kit, while the larger ones find a place in the pack-
sack. None of them holds over 2 pounds, and the
smaller ones less than half a pound, which will be
134 CAMP CRAFT
found to give ample quantity and variety for all one-
man and two-man trips, and even for four men for
a week-end camp.
CHAPTER VIII
TRAIL ACCESSORIES
THERE are quite a few minor essentials in
wilderness equipment that do not loom up
very large or very important in the beginner's eyes,
but which have received quite as inexorable an evo-
lution in the hands of the professional woodsman as
the larger necessities, such as rifle, rod, tent, cook-kit,
and sleeping-rig. I refer to those lesser, but equally
needful, accessories, the axe, knife, compass, camp-
lamp, repair and cleaning outfits, sharpening-stone,
match-safe and medicine-kit. Some of these things
look superfluous to the inexperienced man — ^who is
quite ready to borrow yours upon occasion — but
there will surely come times when the wilderness
will ask him personally for each and every one of
these accessories, and there will be no old-timer
around to lean upon and borrow from.
Most of them you are using around camp all the
time, so they must be of A-i quality and kept right
up to the mark if you are to have any peace of mind.
Here is where the poor steel knife, the axe-with-
the-head-always-coming-off*, the lamp that blows up
or out in the wind, and the compass that requires
13s
136 CAMP CRAFT
a feat of memory to know which end of its needle
is north get shown up. The acid test of their
owner's well-being comes upon them and they fail.
If some one else is around to lend the real article,
well and good, if not — woe to you !
There are not so many of these accessories all
told, so it is well worth the effort to strain the
financial rigging a bit and get them of the best
quality. A belt-axe that costs you less than about
two simoleons is just no axe at all, merely a poor
heavy thing whose edge and head alike are always
coming off. The knife that will really serve you
when it comes to skinning out a tough old hide is
no cheap iron affair with hilt and handle all wrong
for real work; it is rather an extra fine bit of steel,
with a handle that has been evolved out of the needs
of hunters who follow the art as a daily occupation,
and it will set you back not less than one dollar and
fifty cents. No matter where one hits the list of
accessories the same rule holds good — there are two
kinds of them, the sort that always has something
out of order and do not somehow fit, and the kind
that are always "all there,'' good and plenty, with
something left over for extra hard duty.
Like everything else in outdoor equipment, a good
deal depends upon the country, the time of the year,
and the kind of trip one proposes to take. For ex-
ample, on a canoe trip or a pack-and-saddle trip,
TRAIL ACCESSORIES 137
in cold weather, a sharp three-quarter axe is a
necessity for fire-wood and down trees, although
the party is well-provided with belt-axes and could
get along with them alone. On a hiking or toboggan
trip in winter the Hudson Bay axe takes the place
of the three-quarter axe (although again a sharp
belt-axe alone would answer), because with the fight,
keen head and long handle of the Hudson Bay axe
one's swing radius and cutting power are enor-
mously increased, and, as there is a lot of night wood
to cut, it meets the requirements admirably. The
same axe would be in the way and a nuisance in a
summer or early fall trip afoot, where only one axe
is to be taken, and that one, of course, your belt-axe.
For the latter is your most inseparable companion
and it cannot be too well made. Strapped over your
left hip, it goes with you every day on the hunt away
from the home-camp; around camp it is constantly
being used for everything from driving tent-pegs to
whittling shavings in starting a fire; in the canoe or
in thick brush it clears the way; and after the kill it
is your butcher's cleaver par excellence. As nothing
drags one down so as a heavy load on the belt, it
must be fight, not over 24-ounce weight, and to
make this light weight eff'ective in cutting logs for
camp-fire and bed, it must be keen and hold its
edge. Not a brittle keenness that chips out on hard
knots or when used as a screw-driver to open up
138 CAMP CRAFT
the rifle, but a mild, somewhat malleable keenness
that only the best steel possesses. The head should
have a nail-claw somewhere on it, for one's stock
of nails is not to be lightly wasted, and all should be
pulled out and taken along when camp is moved.
The head must not come ofF, no matter how much
used, and this cannot be insured against except by
some sort of expansion bolt or screw-and-wedge de-
vice that positively prevents the head from coming off.
All kinds of driven wedges have failed in belt-axe
work, and an axe with a loose head had far better
be left behind. The helve should be stout and broad
where it enters the head, because the usual way to
drive a peg or stake is with the flat of the head,
since the face of it is sure to split green stake timber,
and if the helve is weak at that point it will break
and leave you axeless in the tall uncut. The helve
should be properly curved, so that the shock of cut-
ting will not vibrate up into your palm and hurt
you worse than it does the tree, and the helve must
have a large, generous stop on the hand end, so that
you can swing at full arm's length, with no fear of
the whole axe flying out of your hand if you miss a
swing or cut clear through or strike a glancing blow
that tends to wrench it out of your grip. It is thus
apparent that the belt-axe is quite as much a
poem of construction as a fine vioKn, and many
a keen mind has labored over the evolution of the
TRAIL ACCESSORIES ' v 139
ideal. Some of them are of the standard axe-poll
shape, some double-bitted and others of the toma-
hawk head. All require some sort of sheath or guard,
the latter usually folding into the handle when not
in use. My own axe is of the standard poll shape,
of the finest Damascus steel, weighs just a pound and
a half and has been with me constantly for over five
years. It has been sharpened twice, and once has
had the screw in its head taken up. Otherwise it is
as good as new, and I often cut twenty logs of 3 and
4 inch night wood with it, besides cutting all the
tent-poles, stakes, and cook-fire wood needed, and
this service has extended over fifty camps of all
kinds and in a variety of countries. I would not
part with that axe for any consideration, as I have
a superstition that it is an exceptional piece of
steel. The helve is 13^ inches long with a 2-inch
stop on it, a thin, tough, hickory shank broadening
to ij^ inches where it enters the poll; case of
leather, reinforced with rivets along the blade and
fastened with two snap-buttons. We have two
other belt-axes in the family, both of the folding-
guard variety with tomahawk head, the latter to
get as much weight into as great a swing radius as
possible. Both of these axes have seen much service
for camp use, and neither has given any trouble
from the head coming off or the edge giving out
unduly. They are invaluable for cutting brush.
I40 CAMP CRAFT
tent-poles, stakes, and light fire-wood, and are just
about the right weight for their users, i6 and 20
ounces respectively.
The double-bitted axe was first reduced to camper
dimensions by Nessmuk, of revered memory, who
had one made to order for him. It has since been
put on the market, and can be had by any one who
wants two edges on his axe, one keen and sharp for
soft cutting and the other more blunt for bones and
hard knots. The principal diificulty is to get a good
stop for the helve, as the stop should slope to fit your
hand, and it is impossible to slope it both ways.
Nessmuk avoided this by wrapping the helve and
providing as much stop as could be reversed without
interfering with the grip, and the same result could
be obtained to-day with bicycle tape, the way the
handle of a bat is wrapped. A very neat, keen,
light, double-bitted belt-axe can be made for you by
any blacksmith if you get him two large, flat files
from the used stock of any machine-shop. They
are always glad to sell ofF any worn-out files on hand,
and the blacksmith will weld them into an axe head
with a hole between for the helve, and rough shape
the blades for you. A session with the grindstone
and a final tempering will give you a Hght, double-
bitted belt-axe weighing about a pound. Bob Davis,
the world-renowned bassologist, is the landlord of
the first one of these axes I ever saw.
TRAIL ACCESSORIES 141
The question of knives is as lengthy as some of
the bowies themselves, and, like the rifle, it is hard
to get an all-around one. There is the heavy, long
brush-knife, which aims to do away with the belt-
axe, and there is the light skinning-knife not in-
tended for hacking of any sort. Personally, I prefer
to keep my belt-axe sharp for all hack work, and
use a light, keen knife, with a blade especially
adapted for skinning purposes, though not as light
as the out-and-out skinning-knife. Every man to
his taste, only let it be one knife, as there is no room
for two about your belt, and the pocket-knife is a
separate institution, those with combination tools
of one sort or another being especially serviceable
on the trail and well patronized, especially by people
who carry along only an ordinary pocket-knife and
borrow yours. Mine weighs 6 ounces and has a 3-inch
blade (excellent for difficult skinning), a 2-inch blade,
fish disgorger, corkscrew, screw-driver, scissors, twee-
zers, awl, reamer, and two large needles for canoe
and canvas sewing. All of these tools have been
used, dozens of times, on various trips.
The sheath that the hunting-knife is slung in also
required considerable evolution from the scabbard
that the old desperado knife used to fit in, more or
less. Its principal function is to keep the knife from
falling out, and yet swing it in such a manner that
it will neither dig into your groin nor make a one-
142 CAMP CRAFT
legged stool of you when you kneel down. Anything
rigidly strapped to your belt is sure to do this, and
so was evolved the long sheath, coming well up on
the knife handle, so that it would not drop out in
any position, and loose-hung to the belt so as to
tuck away automatically when its owner stooped or
squatted over camp-fire or game-sign. As the old
brass tip proved more a weapon of offense than the
knife-point itself, it was discarded for a well-sewn
tip, guarded with a few rivets properly placed, the
stop of the knife handle preventing the blade from
being driven through from above.
Time was when the barn-lantern and the con-
verted bicycle-lamp, or miner's lamp, was the sole
illuminant about camp, and both of them, with their
kerosene-oil fuel, were such a nuisance that we came
to depend upon firelight and a carefully guarded
candle for such light as we absolutely had to have.
This made night going through the brush a de-
batable matter and enforced the rule of getting back
to camp before dark. But the new gas-lamps have
changed that considerably. Light and easily carried,
giving a splendid, efficient illumination, almost im-
possible to blow out in anything short of a gale, they
soon found their way into the old-timer's pack —
the acid test of serviceability ! Not that they
superseded the sure-to-run candle, as no woodsman
would go anywhere without his thick, fat candle
TRAIL ACCESSORIES 143
stowed away somewhere in the duffel and brought
out triumphantly when the gas-lamp is temporarily
disabled. But the candle is now in reserve, to be
used principally for temporary lighting or at the
tail end of the evening, when the gas-lamp gives
signals of needing replenishment and no one wants
to start in on a new charge of carbide, as all hands
are preparing to turn in. It will be conceded that
the writer of this work is not apt to take along
any unnecessary duffel — he has even been wrongfully
accused of going on a three weeks' trip without even
a tooth-brush — yet I would not go on any camping
trip without taking my Httle gas-lamp, its two re-
ceivers crammed with carbide, and a small friction-
tin containing a few more charges. I have used
two types on the market and have no preferences,
but I will back the gas-lamp against any other com-
fort you can carry that weighs under 6 ounces. Stuck
on a twig, I get the evening grub in peace by its
light while the fire is naught but a bed of glowing
coals and the stars are shining overhead; carried
in the hand, it has often guided me through the
woods for an early start before daylight after big
game, and, returning late at night, it has lit up
the compass-dial (a "luminous" one at that), and
steered me through swamp and brush miles and miles
back to camp; perched on a shingle, it has lit up the
beach for yards around while a party of four fished
144 CAMP CRAFT
the surf at night; and hung from a grommet hole in
the tent-flap, it has illumined our dining-service and
lit us off to bed night after night, never failing while
there was a cubic inch of gas still left in the carbide.
Would I go back to the old days of dark tent, feeble
candle-light, blazing cook-fires that scorched the
good mulligan the while it gave us light to see and
also impenetrable shadows to explore where some in-
dispensable article was lurking under the leaves ?
Hardly !
In principle these lamps are exceedingly simple.
The upper compartment contains water, or any
other liquid comprising mostly water, and there is
a small brass drip-tube in one type, inside of which
is a brass rod, the clearance between the two forming
an automatic drip-feed. In the other the drip is
controlled by a screw drip-valve. The receiver con-
tains enough carbide crystals to last a given time.
Judged by previous experience, three-quarters full
lasts three hours. You do not fill it any farther
because the crystals swell with the addition of water
and fill the whole receiver. With the drip-valve
screwed down tight, you screw the receiver to the
lamp, making sure that your gasket joint on the
receiver fits gas-tight. Then open the drip-valve,
whereupon with one type the drip-feed starts,
allowing just enough water to drip on the crystals
to make a nice flame lyi inches long, depending
TRAIL ACCESSORIES 145
upon the relation of the clearance to the hole aperture
in the burner. In the other type, the length of flame
may be adjusted by hand, as it can also in the auto-
matic drip type within certain limits. If it appears
longer and evidently under considerable pressure
you are giving it too much water, and will lose a lot
of unburned gas, as it must escape somewhere, and
will bubble up through the water by way of the drip-
valve and force its way past the rubber gasket on
the receiver. So shut down on your drip until you
have a steady, nice flame and then leave it alone.
In the course of an hour or so the drip may clog from
waste crystal matter swelling up into the end of the
tube. There is a little wire rod projecting up through
the drip-tube for the purpose of freeing this deposit
on the lower end, and all you have to do is to pump
it up and down a few times or rotate the wire. Oc-
casionally a carbon tit will form on the burner and
obstruct the flow of gas; knock it off with a knife
blade and all will be well. This is about all the care
your gas-lamp needs, except an occasional cleaning
of the felt filter which separates the receiver from
the exit to the burner. If you have been filHng the
receiver too full of crystals they may swell up and
clog this felt filter with carbide mud, or if you have
given the crystals so much water as to drown them
and then have shaken the lamp about too much in
carrying, besides dropping it a few times, the filter
146 CAMP CRAFT
again may get clogged. Otherwise it will run nicely,
rain or shine, windy or still, in almost any old posi-
tion not actually upside down, and you can light it
from the camp-fire, a glowing ember, a flint-spark,
from a spark wheel in the reflector or even the snap
of a match. I usually start out with both receivers
full of crystals and use half of one the first night.
The crystals spoil rapidly when exposed to the air
and must be carried in an air-tight tin, but that first
half charge will answer very well overnight if put
away in any covered container. Next morning the
receiver is washed clean, dried over the camp-fire, and
the second half put in. The two receivers last four
nights and the friction-tin holds three more charges,
so I have a week's supply of fight on far less room
and weight than the equivalent in candles. And
"dar is" a candle lurking in the ditty-bag for emer-
gencies, too ! If the gas-lamp burner gets knocked
out or broken it can be replaced immediately with
a spare one or with a .22 empty cartridge with a
very tiny hole made by a tack-point, and if the wire
gets lost a straightened hairpin or a bit of straight
iron wire or just a plain wooden plug in the top of
the valve nut will do as a makeshift. And at the
end of your trip the gas-lamp is presented to your
faithful guide, who by that time is an enthusiastic
convert and wants one more than your gold !
The next accessory on our fist is the compass.
TRAIL ACCESSORIES 147
something that you positively cannot do without,
even on a fishing trip where you live in a fisherman's
hotel every night of your stay ! I once went on such
a trip with that great fisherman, Bob Davis, who
spent more time scoffing at my woodsman's outfit
than he did catching fish. The compass came in for
its due share of scorn — but wait ! Of course, it would
be impossible to get lost fishing anywhere on that
lake — oh, sure ! Why, in the name of Ike W., take
along a compass, then ? Well — ^we went out one
fine morning, trolHng for lake trout, and in the midst
of our frolics down came a fog as thick as pea soup.
We weren't more than a mile from shore, and Bob
had the oars. I let him go as far as he liked — and
it was a good long mile, too ! We didn't seem to
be arriving anywhere. . . . How long was this
lake, anyway .? . . . Would that fog ever let up ? . . .
Finally some deft interpellations were thrown out
as to the needs and uses of a compass. Did I have
the "dad-blasted" thing along, and would it show
north or just a white and black needle which no one
could tell anything about ? I wish I hadn't trotted
it out just then, for when its dial came to rest it
yielded up the information that he was rowing
straight down the lake, at right angles to our proper
course, and with five miles of good rowing yet to
come before we could bump up against the unsym-
pathetic rocks under the mountain at the far end 1
148 CAMP CRAFT
A good compass is not necessarily an expensive
thing, but there are some features it must have to be
serviceable in the woods. It should be totally en-
closed in some form of metal case or have a metal
cover so that it will not get broken in packing; it
must be easily carried on your person, have a special
pocket for its carrying, and must be capable of
being used at night. This latter requisite has not yet
been satisfactorily solved by our manufacturers, as
the various luminous compasses sold must be ex-
posed to the sun at least on the day before using or
the luminous part of the dial will not show at night.
As no one ever remembers to do this, it turns out
as a rule that when the emergency arises the dial has
not been exposed that particular day, and the com-
pass is useless without a lamp. Yet a hunting-case
compass could be gotten up in which the base is a
small battery serving a lamp in the cover which
could be flashed on at will, and if one of our optical
companies interested in outdoor equipment would
put such a compass on the market it would be well
patronized. However, as we have no such thing yet,
let us get along with what we have. A good lu-
minous compass, with the north end prominently
marked, can be had for two dollars up, and the
cheaper but serviceable non-luminous compasses
will answer very well if you are a smoker and can
get a glow from cigarette or pipe as you go along.
TRAIL ACCESSORIES 149
Or, combined with a small pocket-flasher (which
is a tremendous convenience about camp, anyhow,
to find things in the dark), you are able at any time
to rectify your course. In night steering, lay your
course for camp, and then steer from one prominent
object on the landscape to the next. There will be
always a dark blur on the darkest night which is a
rock or a clump of trees lying more or less in your
course, and, having reached this landmark, take a
look at the compass and pick out another one,
correcting as you go. Cruising in the deep timber
at night is a bad business and dangerous to Hfe and
limb — as bad as chopping wood at night — and it
is far better to den up than to attempt it. Of course,
following a trail at night is another matter, and in
that case you need lamp or flasher more than any
compass.
The carrying of matches is another detail of more
importance than it seems at first blush. A ten-gauge
or twelve-gauge brass shell, corked, makes a fine
emergency match-safe, one that cannot under any
circumstances be drowned and that will float if
dropped overboard. Screw-top rubber and metal
match-safes are on the market for about forty
cents, and there are a lot of flash-lighters with
spark and gasolene wick which are worth investigat-
ing. All of them work on the principle of saturated
vapor of gasolene given ofF from a wick in the pres-
I50 CAMP CRAFT
ence of a steel-and-flint or steel-and-pyrites spark.
The reservoir holds cotton saturated with the gaso-
lene, and the burner is either immersed in it or forms
the end of the wicking. A spark is had by rubbing a
steel against a bit of pyrites or a chip of flint. The
same idea has been lately appHed to the burner of
the acetylene gas-lamp, and a new lamp having this
device has appeared on the market.
As a rule you need three suppHes of matches, the
main store in a friction-top, air-tight tin (mine is
^y^ inches diameter by 3 inches long); the daily
supply for pipe-smoking, etc., usually an ordinary
match-safe or some of the papers of waxed paste-
board matches; and, finally, the emergency matches,
always on your person and carried in a special
water-proof shell with the matches wrapped in a
few folds of birch-bark tinder. When these are used
you want a fire and want it badly, and the birch
will save a hunt for tinder to start things going.
It is also well to know that safety-matches will
strike on glass in case you find a last one in your
pocket and no corresponding box with its phosphor-
escent striker. Without a match the only sure way
that I know of to start a fire is with the rifle, with
bullet and most of the powder removed from a shell,
a train of powder laid down the rifle-barrel and the
rest spread on your tinder. When the woods are
wet I am sceptical as to whether a fire can be had
TRAIL ACCESSORIES 151
with the rubbing-stick. I once tried it out in a
February blizzard, taking the dry heart of a young
white pine for drill and fireboard and using my
moccasin thong for the bowstring. I was ready to
start fire-making with woods-made apparatus in
about half an hour from the time I first drew my axe
and went into temporary camp under a huge white
pine; but over a dozen vigorous attempts resulted
in nothing but plenty of smoke and almost the vital
spark; but never would it fan to a coal. In that
country there was neither balsam nor white cedar
to be had without long and continuous cruising,
and white pine direct from the dead tree is too damp
and resiny to get a live coal.
How to assemble a light and compact yet efficient
medicine-kit is quite a problem. The ones shown
in the outfitters' catalogues are excellent, and one of
them ought to be ample for a party of four men on
an extended trip. As I go a good deal alone or with
one or two companions, I have to have something
smaller and lighter, yet able to take care of every
one, for few campers seem to realize that one kind or
another of sickness or accident is pretty sure to
overtake them on every trip, and many an old-timer
has been doctored out of my kit, too. The kit is
just a tin-box 3^ x 2% x yi inches in size; weight,
loaded, 2}i ounces. It contains: A roll of surgical
bandage 2 feet long by 3 inches wide, already treated
152 CAMP CRAFT
with antiseptic solution (smells like iodoform); a
piece of surgical tape i6 inches long hy lyi inches
wide; a small tube of carbolated vaseHne; a safety-
pin; ten two-grain quinine capsules; ten bismuth
tablets for diarrhoea; one dozen small fever tablets;
one dozen quarter-grain podophyllin pills for liver
troubles and constipation; six headache pills; four
bronchitis tablets; the little burner cleaner for the
gas-lamp; sewing-needle and thread; a button;
heavy needle and shoe thread, and a paper of burnt-
rag tinder. It may seem incredible that all this can
be contained in such small weight and size, par-
ticularly to those literal souls who put down what
they think each separate item ought to weigh and
then add up the total, but that is what the box
weighs and measures on the scales. Doctor Acker-
man, of Asbury Park, pronounced that kit the light-
est and most complete he ever saw, and he is
"some*' authority in the medical world, too!
Not that it is in any way held up to an admiring
world as a model, but that it illustrates what can
be done in the way of saving weight and space by
omitting that cute little row of glass vials with their
leather compartments and putting all that space
into pills. Better a plain tin case that is always on
the job than a handsome leather-embossed apothe-
cary shop that is left behind in the trunk.
Extraneous to the medicine-kit, but closely allied
TRAIL ACCESSORIES 153
to it, is the tube of fly dope. I take one along, not
that I ever had much rehef for more than half an
hour after painting my pelt, but as a standby in
case anything happens to the net, which, if a good
one, is an accessory of the first rank. Things will
happen to it, Hke fire-sparks, rips from unsympathetic
or openly hostile underbrush, and getting lost in the
shuffle; so take two of them, of the kind that go over
your hat and secure to straps around your shoulders.
While under way in a canoe the pests do not bother
much, but in making and breaking camp at dusk
and in the early morning they are at their worst and
a head-net is a boon. With it goes the ten-cent
cotton glove, which protects the hands not only
against mosquitoes but around the camp-fire, making
one immune from burns, master of the overboiling
kettle, and able to do anything one chooses about
picking blazing brands out of the fire or readjusting
their position. Without the gloves it is almost
impossible to avoid burns, and your skin is not
tough enough to let you put your hand in or near
a hot fire for a quick grab at a utensil, a pot cover
or a brand that wants fixing, all of which is easy to
the man with the cotton glove. They also prevent
that unspeakable grime which otherwise crocks
itself in every crack and crevice of your hands on
long camps in spite of much use of soap and water.
Formerly we bought the gloves in unblushing and
154 CAMP CRAFT
staring white and toned them down with fire-dirt,
but they can now be had at any hardware store in
brown as well as white.
For a rifle or shotgun cleaning outfit you do not
need more than a simple rope outfit and a good oil-
can, one that will hold such insidious oils as the new
nitro-solvent preparations without leaking. The
cleaner is a brass scratch-brush with a stout twine
attached to both ends of it by small brass couplers.
It weighs i>2 ounce and packs in ditty-bag or war-
bag along with the oil-can and a rag or two. Hitch
the loop of your twine over a twig and pull the rifle-
barrel over the brass brush, puHing it back with
your right hand, the rifle being held in your left.
Simple and eflFective. To clean a shotgun with it,
tie a rag around the brass brush and "go to it."
The oil-can should have a screw-top with a rubber
or parchment washer. No metal joint, however
tightly screwed, will hold nitro-solvent oils, with
the result that when you want to use it the can is
dry and your pouch has a suspicious smell about it —
something like a creosote factory.
And do not omit the auxiHary cartridge, or "sup-
plementary chamber,'* as it is called. They are made
to adapt almost any high-power rifle to some one of
the low-power pistol cartridges, and the accuracy at
short ranges of these latter is ample for all meat-
in-the-pot chances. They make little noise, and as
TRAIL ACCESSORIES 155
one is always coming upon grouse, rabbits, chickens,
and ducks in a good game country, there is no
reason why one should be condemned to Hve ex-
clusively on tough old moose and elk steaks. My
two pet rifles are the .32-20 for deer hunts, with its
.32 S. & W. auxihary pistol cartridge, fed direct into
the high-power chamber without any supplementary
cartridge at all; and the .35 high-power, shooting
the .38 pistol cartridges (all except the .38 Special)
in a steel auxiliary shell, fed single shot into the
rifle when meat-in-the-pot has flown into a near-by
spruce and is there for the taking. My revolvers
for either trip take these cartridges, so there is no
doubling up on ammunition. The .32 long-barrel
revolver and .38 officer's model, with 7-inch barrel,
have accounted for much feathered game with these
auxihary pistol cartridges when there was no time
to get out either rifle or supplementary cartridge.
A last bit of equipment often overlooked is the
sharpening-stone. You will not miss it much until
there is a job of skinning or heavy axemanship to
be done, and then you would pretty nearly give the
trophy for just one hck at a good stone. The round
carborundum stone, with coarse face on one side and
fine on the other, carried in a leather case on your
belt, is the standard rig. Then there are fine little
vest-pocket stones, with the same grades of finish
on either face; a little small, and apt to let you get
IS6 CAMP CRAFT
cut in sharpening, maybe, but light and preferable
for the man who wants as little weight hanging about
his belt as possible. For me neither scheme seems
ideal, and I have steered a middle course by adopting
a segment cut off the round stone by a cold chisel,
large for both knife and axe sharpening and this
goes in the justly celebrated ditty-bag, along with
a raft of other knacks and kinks Hke unto it. With
this stone the belt-axe, hunting-knife, and pocket-
knife are kept up to normal keenness, not because
I like to work over them by the light of the camp-
fire, after cleaning rifle and revolver and before
turning in, but because I am lazy — phenomenally
lazy — and no effort of mine is ever put forth except
with the ultimate aim of saving yet more labor of a
greater kind — in this case a sharp axe saving much
cutting and many blows, while a sharp knife walks
through anything you have to cut, requiring no
effort at all but just guidance on your part !
CHAPTER IX
IN EMERGENCY
THOSE of us who take the trail early and often
are aware that this being left out all night,
this matter of being pitted against the savage con-
ditions of the wilderness, alone and unaided except
by the equipment carried on the person, is such a
frequent occurrence as to demand a certain fore-
thought in providing an emergency-kit, both mental
and material — in a word, the knowledge and where-
withal for obtaining food, shelter, and warmth from
the materials at hand in the forest regardless of the
time, place, or state of preparedness in which one is
found. Resourcefulness — that is the slogan of this
great game of living in the open. Assuming that
you already have a camp and trail equipment that
just suits your tastes and temperament, what can
you do in the emergency, deprived of part or all
of the equipment which you have brought into the
woods with you ? You may lose rifle, axe, or grub,
or all three; you may get burned out and lose clothes
and shelter. What would you do to replace them,
in emergency ? The following ideas are offered as
iS7
iS8 CAMP CRAFT
showing the way to efficient substitutes which have
been used in just such emergencies by the waiter
and others during our trail experiences.
FOOD
Forest conditions impose a feeding regime of two
meals a day. It is the only way to get anywhere
or accomplish anything, unless you expect to con-
fine yourself to cooking, eating, and washing dishes
all day, or else propose to leave off your hunting or
fishing at midday and seek camp at noon for some-
thing to eat. The successful hunter ranges far and
wide, and he needs the whole day to cover territory
and track his game; the fisherman knows that no
fish are caught on a dry line and that it takes time
to get on your ground, to fish a stream properly or
cast a pond thoroughly, and he must not be hampered
by the necessity to return to camp at midday.
TravelHng by canoe or pack-and-saddle, the day's
trip must be made in one lap, with at best a brief
stop at noon for a bite and a smoke; even the best
cook cannot prepare a cooked meal, have it eaten
and the dishes washed and repacked in less than two
hours, which is too much time out of the day's total.
The answer to all this is the pocket lunch, a matter
too often forgotten or not properly provided for.
Our stomachs have been so long accustomed to the
three-meal day that the omission of the midday
IN EMERGENCY 159
one entirely is not to be endured, except by a gradual
process of getting accustomed to the change. Yet
a mere bite will satisfy the craving; a sandwich
and a cup of something hot, easily prepared during
that noonday stop which is necessary for a rest
and a break in the most arduous hunt or the most
successful fishing day. The plain sandwich will do,
but it is cold and indigestible, and Hkely to cause
intestinal upsets and be half-digested unless ac-
companied by something hot, and this need led me
to give a good deal of study to the ideal emergency
ration, especially as the festive sandwich is likely
to be forgotten or omitted altogether in setting out
from camp. This ration should be a small package,
something to go in pocket or ditty-bag; something
that is in itself a cooking utensil (or two of them),
and something that will contain not only enough
raw material for one lunch, but for four or five or a
dozen of them.
For several years I used a flat tin, 4 inches in
diameter by ^ of an inch deep, with two tack-holes in
the rim so that it could be tacked to the end of a
stick or to two forks of a green branch and serve as
a small frying-pan or to boil a dish of tea. This tin
contained flat packages of tea, bacon, bouillon cap-
sules, salt and Saxine sugar tablets, being closed
by a hardtack which fitted in the tin Hke a cover.
It was a little too small, though very quick to use, as
i6o CAMP CRAFT
a tiny fire would boil water in it in no time. It held
just enough to fill my folding aluminum drinking-
cup and I would steep a pinch of tea in it and pour
the brew into the hunting-cup for drinking, doing the
same thing for bouillon. For frying, a chunk of fish
and a slice of bacon were all you needed for a meal,
and the tin was then tacked inside of a green sassa-
fras fork, for if put at the end of a stick it would
always warp. My present kit has an emergency
ration which is a pressed-tin affair 3>^ inches by
3^ inches by i^ inches deep, with rounded corners,
capable of holding just half a pint of water. This
boils in five minutes, with a fire made of a few dry
sticks heaped together and two stouter ones for fire
logs. It boils you a full cup of tea or erbswurst, and
inside it there is room for a brass primer-box full
of Ceylon tea, another of erbswurst-powder, another
of salt, half a dozen bouillon cubes, a tiny bottle of
sugar tablets (one is enough for a cup of tea), four
slices of bacon and some chunks of army emergency
chocolate. There is no solder whatever anywhere
on this tin, and it goes in the ditty-bag as a standard
institution therein. With rifle or rod, or neither,
provided there is fish and game to be caught, I can
keep going a long while, and often have I made
myself a nourishing emergency lunch with it, some-
times with the pocket sandwich to help out, more
often without.
IN EMERGENCY i6i
Total loss of the grub-sack is not likely to happen
with experienced woodsmen, but it can happen and
occasionally does. More often the provisions run
low before the party has any idea of coming out of
the woods, or guests and Indians cause unforeseen
inroads into the larder and the flour-sack runs dry
when you are still two or three hundred miles from
anywhere. Bartering for flour with passing Indians
and trappers is the usual way of replenishment, but
a little knowledge of the edible and really delicious
plants and nuts, used by the Indians before the days
of flour, is a way out that every sportsman should
know. The best vegetables that grow wild are the
wild rice, the roots of the yellow and arrow-leaved
water-liHes, the Indian potato (most erroneously
dubbed the Jerusalem artichoke), the flour made
from the various acorns, and the beefsteak mush-
room. Wild rice is a most unsavory-looking dish,
but much more appetizing and delicious in flavor
than our white cultivated rice. It is best gathered
by two men in a canoe, one paddling and the other,
armed with two sticks, bending the stalks over the
canoe while he thrashes out the grains with taps
of the other stick. A bushel of it will fall into the
bottom of the canoe in a morning's collecting —
enough to take a party a good many hundred canoe
miles. Ripe from September on. Boil thirty-five
minutes.
i62 CAMP CRAFT
The roots, or rather bulbs, of the arrow-head
water-Hly are gotten by wading around in the mud
in a bed of them, thereupon they float to the surface,
as you may have often noticed in freeing your casting
lure from these same HHes (the ones with the blue
spikes of flowers). Washed and boiled, the root
makes a good substitute for potato, particularly with
a stew of wild flesh — rabbit, bird, squirrel, venison,
elk, moose, or what-not. Another wholesome addi-
tion to the stew is the bulb of the wood-lily. Boiled
in a meat stew, it takes the place of the onion of com-
merce. Another addition is the root of the yellow
pond-lily, a thick, tuberous root gotten in two to
four feet of water by dredging for it with the hands.
Growing all over the Eastern woods, from Minnesota
to New Brunswick, and south to the Gulf States,
is the best "spud'' of them all — the wild bean, or
ground-nut. Look for it in wet forest meadows and
swamp borders, a vine with five or seven pointed
leaflets on the stem, dark purple-maroon flowers
something like a clover or green pods full of nutritious
little beans, and a root with lots of small tubers
attached, from marble up to egg size. These boil
and taste like potatoes, and where you can find
wild beans never despair for a proper "mulHgan,"
even if the " spud-sack " is down to its last occu-
pant !
The Jerusalem artichoke, or Indian potato, occurs
IN EMERGENCY 163
by the roadside and in forest meadows, being gen-
erally the reHc of former Indian plantations, for the
Indians used this root extensively as a tuber in stews,
etc. It looks something like the ordinary yellow
daisy or black-eyed Susan, except that the centre
button is yellowish-green. The leaves are, however,
broad, lance-shaped with thick leaf-ribs which at
once distinguish it from the narrow-leaved daisies.
It is really a wild sunflower and its root when boiled
makes an excellent substitute for potato. It occurs
from Pennsylvania, west to the Rockies, south to
the Gulf States.
For flour, all the round-leaved oaks — ^white,
swamp, post, black-jack, chestnut, and overcup oak — •
throw down incredible quantities of edible acorns.
To make flour, dry the kernels in the sun or over the
fire, pound to powder, and leach out the tannin by
percolating through a cloth bag until the water has
no yellow tinge. It is then ready for boiling, making
a corn mush of it, wholesome and nourishing, albeit
nothing extra as to taste. The same sort of flour
can be made from chestnuts, or they can be roasted
and eaten out of hand. No acorn can be eaten with-
out first getting rid of the tannin, and the spike-
leaved oaks, even the red with its great, blunt acorns,
all have such acrid acorns that they are best left
alone. The other oaks are, however, easy to manage
and the flour is high in nutrition.
i64 CAMP CRAFT
The beefsteak mushroom, or common puffball, is
familiar to us all. When old and dry it is valuable as
a fire punk, as a spark caught in it will yield a hot
coal and can be carried a long distance. When
young and solid white inside it makes a good bread,
being peeled and sHced and fried. The common
mushrooms are also fine additions to any mulligan,
and are recognized by their pink or brown gills and
their wholesome smell. Never use a mushroom
with white or yellow gills, growing out of a bulb or
cup, as these are poisonous, some of them so deadly
that there is no known remedy.
FIRE
Next to something to eat, is a fire to cook it. Did
you ever stop to think how many of our garden
vegetables would be absolutely inedible and useless
unless cooked ? The same thing holds with forest
vegetables. Merely tasting them raw is no criterion;
most of them are bitter to a degree until cooked,
when the bitter ingredient disappears. To make a
fire with matches, let alone without, seems to be
beyond the abilities of many tyros who come into
the woods. For a quick little lunch fire, the best
thing is four stakes driven in the ground and a little
inverted pine cone of slivers whittled from a dry
stick, the slivers being left on the stick and the same
stuck into the ground. Pile your sphnters around
IN EMERGENCY 165
this and put the frying-pan on the stakes. For
a kettle or pail, use a dingle stick, an inch sapling
stuck in the ground and adjusted as to height over
the fire by two forked stakes. In your ditty-bag
should always be several brass chains with pothooks
attached, which are forthwith slung over the dingle
pole and the proper height of pail adjusted by
hooking the upper hook into the right link of the
chain. These httle chains weigh nothing and fold
into the most inconspicuous corner of the ditty-bag.
Two pieces of copper wire should also find place
there for lashing a cross-pole to two upright stakes,
in case you have several pails over the fire. With-
out either chains or hooks, use forked short branches
with a notch in the lower end to take the bail of the
pail. For the emergency-ration container you need
two small inch logs side by side, with two short ones
under them and a small fire of twigs built in between.
For a fire on the snow, four short 3-inch logs side
by side with the fire built on them. For a reflector-
baker fire, two pairs of stakes driven in vertically
about a foot high and four or five small logs piled
in between these stakes, forming a vertical back-
ground. Pile the kindlings vertically against this,
getting a high flame that will bake both sides of
your biscuits or corn bread at the same time. To
make a sure fire where you have only one last match,
prepare a large quantity of shavings, at least a hatful,
i66 CAMP CRAFT
and strike your match in the centre of these; it will
surely start.
Now for fire without matches. First your rifle
or pistol: hack out the bullet, take out all the
powder; put some of it in a linty rag, or some tinder,
such as shredded birch or cedar bark; put the rest
loose down the barrel and fire it into the tinder,
holding the muzzle about a foot away. If you have
only your hunting-knife, search the brook bed for a
flint, and make a tinder by tearing a strip off your
handkerchief; roll the torn edge into a fuzzy cylinder
and work over the flint until you get a spark caught
in the tinder — not to be caught on the first trial !
And flints are not easy to find in most hunting
countries.
If you have on your watch and there is sun, you'll
do better to retire to some secluded sunny spot and
use the watch crystal on your tinder, filled level with
water to make a burning glass of it. This, however,
is not practical in the spring and fall months, when
the sun's declination places it well down on the
horizon, as one cannot hold the glass any other way
than level without spilling the water, and you there-
fore can get no hot point in focus. It will work at
high noon in midsummer only. Your camera lens
unscrewed from the plate will start you a fire in any
old sun.
Without rifle or matches, the surest way to get
IN EMERGENCY 167
a fire is with the fire-drill. This is a bow with a loose
thong, a thick drill of about an inch of dry balsam,
linden, cedar, or Cottonwood, a foot long and rough-
sided, so that the drill thong will not slip on it. A
drill socket of any hardwood, with a cup in it to take
the top of the drill, is next in order, and a fireboard
of the same wood as the drill, with a set of notches
in it, at the point of one of which you start drilling
the cup. Passing the thong around the drill and
bearing down hard on the socket, you saw back and
forth and the drill begins to form a cup in the fire-
board. Its detritus piles out into the angle of the
notch onto a chip placed under the fireboard. This
little pile is composed of hot, charred drill splinters
and dust, and, as you work at the drill, smoke
arises from the cup, and finally a spark, which
tumbles out into the notch and is picked up with
its pile of punk on the chip and fanned, ever so
gently, until a small coal is formed. This is to be
deftly transferred into your wad of cedar or birch-
bark tinder and blown to a flame. Mr. Ernest
Thompson Seton, the man who rescued this method
for us from the domain of legend and made it a
practical reality, can light a fire with the bow-drill
in thirty-one seconds. I have seen him do it in less
than a minute, but most of us make clumsy mistakes
or get wood not exactly right for the purpose (it
should be just soft enough to yield good friction
i68 CAMP CRAFT
splinters), and we make a number of bungles before
getting any fire. The soul of it is speed, however.
Get everything ready and then saw away like a
good fellow. Any strong, flexible twine will do for
the bowstring in lieu of a rawhide thong (your
moccasin lacing), so that one should be forthcoming
from your own clothing without much trouble, but
the only vegetable bark or root I have yet proven
out which will yield a thong strong enough yet flex-
ible enough to work around the drill is the bark of
mockernut hickory peeled ofF when the sap is in the
bark, split into thin strips, and platted into a stout
bast cord.
UTENSILS
Often one gets left out overnight, well-found ex-
cept for a cooking utensil. If in the north country,
where birch bark is to be had, it is a matter of but
half an hour to make a bark bowl which will hold a
quart and boil anything you want to as long as you
care to keep it up. Here, also, there is a good deal
in the savoir faire, as many gUb writers mention
this method without these accompanying practical
cautions and directions which show the hand of the
man who has actually done it. To begin with, the
bark must have the rough outer coat peeled off" or it
will surely crack and leak when you fold up the ends.
There is no time to supple it overnight, nor neces-
IN EMERGENCY 169
sity, if only the inner folds are used. A piece a foot
square is ample, got off a young tree at a spot where
there are no checks or knots, for the least leak is
fatal. Fold the corners and skewer them flat with
a green stick and you will have a square box 2 inches
deep by about 8 inches square. This is to go on
two logs over a bed of glowing coals from the main
fire, replenished occasionally. At that, the upper
edges of the bowl will warp and curl and are better
reinforced with a light green twig frame. No flame
should touch the bark, because, while it is true that
birch bark will not ignite with water inside of it,
it is equally true that it will burn readily down to
the water's edge, whereupon the least sagging will
spill the soup over into your fire, putting it out.
A bed of hot coals, however, will bring the water to
boil in about ten minutes, and you have all the tea
you want for the steeping. To make erbswurst soup
you must keep it boiling about twenty minutes, and
this I once did in a birch-bark bowl as above de-
scribed, making an excellent, palatable soup and
keeping the bowl bubbUng merrily by assiduous
blowing on the coals.
In a country where the canoe birch does not grow,
you have recourse to the red maple, in a log of which
you can cut a bowl holding a quart, with your axe
and hunting-knife as the sole tools. Select a log
about 8 inches thick and cut oflF a section, clear and
I70 CAMP CRAFT
free from knots, 2 feet long. Dap ofF the top flat
and lay out on it a rectangle 4 by 18 inches long.
Dig down with axe and knife until you have made
a boat about 2 inches deep, smooth and level it
and fill with water. To boil it, set some smooth
quartz stones on the fire; about fifteen of them will
be wanted about the size of a large hen's egg. These
should get white hot, for at first they will be covered
with black soot, but as they heat up this goes off
and the stones are clean as ice. Pick them up with
tongs and put them one at a time into the bowl.
The whole thing will be boiling at the fourth stone,
and after that one stone a minute will suffice to keep
the thing bubbhng. It takes an hour to make the
bowl and you get your tea four minutes later and
your soup in twenty minutes to half an hour. It
will be dirtier than the birch-bark bowl soup, but
palatable and nourishing. Elm bark also makes
a good boat if you have balsam pitch handy to stop
up the ends. Get off a section about 2 feet long and
bend it at the ends into a sort of boat. Clamp these
tight with pairs of sticks, flow in your pitch, and
stick the clamps into the ground. Water is boiled
in it with stones, as in the other boat.
WEAPONS
Occasions can arise, and sometimes do, even with
cautions and experienced woodsmen, when one is
IN EMERGENCY 171
deprived, by total loss of rifle or cartridges, or loss
of some important screw in cleaning, of a weapon,
and it cannot be replaced for love or money. What's
to do ? Are you going to give up the trip and make
the best of your way back to civilization, or are you
going to make an interesting experience of it and
try your skill with man's ancient weapon, the bow ?
While javelin, sling, and club are all much more
efficient than we give them any credit for, the
things one can do with a good bow are incredible,
unbeHevable, to one who has not actually tried.
Most of our bow memories are of the boyhood
plaything, made out of an old stick of wood, weak,
inaccurate, and furnished with an arrow which never
twice takes the same trajectory. Fll admit that
finding a driven arrow in the forest is an aggravating
pastime — worse than untangling fly-hooks on a trout-
stream — but the accuracy and strength of a man-
made bow, with a straight ash arrow well feathered,
has to be tried to be appreciated. A natural-oak
branch with a mockernut-hickory bark thong and a
feathered arrow made from a natural chestnut or
maple shoot is no mean weapon, let me tell you. At
the ranges at which fool-hens, grouse, and squirrels
can be shot in the real wilderness, such a weapon
should keep you in meat indefinitely, and there is
not a part of it but that can be had from the forest
with no other tools than your bare hands and a sharp
172 CAMP CRAFT
stone. Braided rope of the bark of cedar or mocker-
nut hickory makes better thongs than vines much
more easy to get, such as greenbrier. At 25 feet
you can drive your arrow into any mark 8 inches in
diameter, and that early in the game of learning
how to shoot, and your effective range will quickly
increase. You need, first of all, plenty of power —
a bow as long as yourself and of thick stock. The
English longbow was 3 inches wide and an inch and
a half thick at the middle. Hornbeam, oak, and ash
make good raw bows; hickory must be seasoned
to be worth anything, and ash must be peeled and
dried over the camp-fire before it gets enough stiff-
ness. For a makeshift I would choose a stout limb
of oak already somewhat bow-shaped and taper down
its thick end with knife or hatchet. Then two deep
notches at the ends, and a thong of stout cord,
triple-braided cedar or kingnut-hickory bark, or eel-
skin, in order of preference named. The loop is to
be lashed on the cord with fishing line or cedar bark
or greenbrier tendril, half-hitching at every turn.
Make a cuff for your left arm of leather, canvas,
or birch bark, and you are ready for the really im-
portant article, the arrow. Natural arrows are
made from the shoots of Viburnum dentatum or
arrowwood, red maple, chestnut, sassafras, or small
spruce Hmbs, peeled, straightened by hand and eye,
and then hung up over a small fire to season, with a
IN EMERGENCY 173
heavy weight at the lower end. Better arrows are
split from dry pine or cedar, spruce or ash, splitting
out from a 3-foot billet with the axe and finishing
with the knife. If dry billets are chosen, these will
already be seasoned and will stay straight, so that,
once finished, you can proceed to learn the flight
characteristics of each arrow forthwith. Any reason-
ably straight arrow will go straight for a short
distance under a powerful bow — enough for small-
game shooting at close range — but if you are to do
some small deed upon big game at 75 to 100 yards
you must know each arrow and its flight charac-
teristics, as no two home-made ones are alike. For
feathering, the dropped feather of duck, goose, hawk
or even such a bird as the whiskey-john, or even made
of birch bark will answer, and the vanes are lashed
on at both ends, three to the shaft. The arrow-head
is the hardest thing to furnish from camp supplies.
The best are made from eight or ten penny nails,
forged in the camp-fire; not a difficult thing to do,
as an axe driven into a stump is a very fair anvil.
The nail is driven into a green stick in lieu of tongs,
and there is metal enough in the nail-head to flatten
into a fair flat-pointed arrow-head, reversing the
flat and welding over to get a barb. Such arrows
should have some taper, with the heaviest end at
the head, for there is not metal enough in the nail
to make a good balance. The arrow is well lashed
174 CAMP CRAFT
an inch back from the head and the point tapered
down to the nail, when you have there a formidable
missile that a good bow will drive clean through a
deer from side to side. For small game, arrows
with bone or thorn heads are effective enough and
easily made, as bird and small animal bones are
easily stone-ground to a point. Certain woods,
notably pin-oak, hornbeam, locust, laurel, and holly,
when sharpened and burned, give a hard enough
arrow-head for all bird and small-game shooting.
The Indians make a whole set of arrows on this order
of straight cane stalks with a hardwood point and
tied-on feathers, amply good and straight enough
for short-range pot shooting.
Out West, where the crack of the rifle is apt to
scare ofF big game, they use the "rubber gun" or
slingshot of boyhood days, for pot shooting grouse
and fool-hens. No. 2 buck is the missile and a body
shot is just as effective as a head shot. A man-
sized wood crotch, two rubber elastics, ^ inch by 5
inches, and a leather pouch are all the materials
needed, and room should be found for them in your
pack or on your belt.
TACKLE
While a camping party is perhaps never without
tackle, it often happens that the lone hunter finds
himself beside a pond teeming with fish and no hook
IN EMERGENCY 175
to catch them with. We all Hke a little fish for a
change, and nearly every one carries a fly or two
and some spare hooks in his inside hat-band; but
if totally without, one need not despair, for a hook
that will land 'em is not such a mystery as it seems.
A greenbrier thorn lashed to a tiny bit of wood
pointing back at a sharp angle by its own tendril
served our Indian fisherman for a mighty long while
before the white man and his steel hook put in an
appearance. A sharp-pointed bird bone or even
a hardwood sliver, charred and pointed as sharp as
the proverbial spHnter, makes a good hook when
lashed to a small stock in the same way. The whole
hook is covered with an attractive bait — a lump
of raw meat will do for blue-gills, perch, and catfish —
and, with a ready line and a hunter keen to yank
at the first nibble, the fish is out of water before he
knows it. A grasshopper and a short pole will do
the same thing for trout. Work the pole through
the alders and skitter the grasshopper over the pool,
and if there is a trout in it he strikes and is snitched
out onto the bank before he can flip a fin. Not
angUng, but great for meat in the pot !
With a greenbrier-thorn hook you need a flexible
pole and must tire out your fish on a taut line, for
the thorn will not stand a stiff jerk without breaking
oflF. I once made two hooks on this order and caught
a mess of sunfish with no materials but the green-
176 CAMP CRAFT
brier thorn on its own twig, lashed into hook form
with the flexible tendrils of the vine which are about
4 inches long and strong as No. 40 cotton thread,
and knot readily.
SHELTER
It depends upon the country you are in, the main
object being to keep the cold radiation of space off
you in clear nights and the rain or snow oflF in cloudy
ones. No improvised shelter will turn a heavy,
driving rain, but even a flimsy one is better than
none at all. Wherefore, if caught out overnight do
not "rough it," dozing before the fire, roasting one
side at a time, but build a small lean-to or wickiup.
The classic brush lean-to of balsam or cedar boughs
is the thing if in the country of these trees; do not
use small trees, but rather boughs, lopped from the
lower trunks of large trees. These already have
the flat spread so useful for roof shingling. The only
small tree at all suitable for roofing is the red or
white cedar, and that will by no means shed rain,
as its branches do not set right for such service. In
hardwood countries the best lean-to is made by
shingling the lower branches of red oak, birch,
beech, and soft maple, following the same lines as
the balsam lean-to. In grass country a thatch roof
is made by putting cross-purlins of small sapHngs
about a foot apart up the poles of the lean-to, gather-
IN EMERGENCY 177
ing a quantity of long grasses and bundling them with
a vine or cord passing around the lean-to purlins,
and taking a sheave of grasses as thick as your wrist
at every turn. Three rows of these grass bundles
are sufficient, overlapping a foot, and the edifice
will take about two hours to build. Using the same
sort of frame, I have shingled pine sprays from the
pitch-pine in sandy countries with very good results,
and the "niggerheads" of the long-leaf pine in the
South would serve the same purpose admirably.
In the tropics I have made very good lean-tos of the
seaside palm-leaf. In all these shacks with a fire
out in front, if you have no blanket it is far better to
prepare a dry, comfortable bed than to attempt to
sleep with your clothes on, only throwing in a Httle
brush to take ofF the raw edge, so to speak.
It is much better, if the woods are dry, to fill
the lean-to with a great pile of dry leaves or pine-
needles or grasses at least 2 feet deep, occupying the
hours after supper for this purpose. Bank these in
two main piles, with a hollow in between, lie down
in this hollow, take off your outer clothes and put
them over you, depending upon your bodily heat
to make the dry stuff under you warm and cosey.
There is never any trouble about this if you have
enough dry leaves, needles, or grass underneath; it
is the upper side that gets cold. No amount of
clothes if kept on will be warm enough and comfort-
178 CAMP CRAFT
able enough to let you get to sleep. They shut off
circulation and impede free movement; but it is
surprising how effective even a mackinaw coat and
trousers are when spread over one of a cold night,
with a bed of dry stuff to lie down in. You will
arise next morning refreshed and ready to find that
lost trail again, whereas if you had "stuck it out"
all night in your clothes before a fire, you would be
just that much the worse for wear and likely to
spend yet another night out before you got through.
THE DITTY-BAG
My great panacea for all emergencies is the ditty-
bag. It is the first thing taken off and hung on a
twig when a camp site is decided upon and the last
thing put on when camp is broken. It has every-
thing in it for repairs, accidents, emergencies of all
kinds. Canoe leaking .? In the ditty-bag is a small
stick of canoe glue, a heavy needle, and strong
thread. Moccasin stitch out ? You'll find a leather
needle with a thread of moccasin twine in the
d.-b. Suspender button off.? In that repository
of repairdom is another button, a needle, and shoe
thread. Sick ? There is a medicine-kit in the emol-
lient of emergencies which will cure anything you
have, from fever to deUrium tremens. Hurt ? Right
this way, we have it right here, surgical bandages,
tape, stitch needle, antiseptics — can give you a
IN EMERGENCY 179
whole new rubber neck on demand. Gun needs
cleaning ? The whole works are in the ditty-bag.
Hungry ^ There are a dozen square meals lurking
inside the covers of that — grab it from me — justly
famous ditty-bag. Tackle frayed or lost .? There
are bass and trout fly-hooks, a dozen leaders, spoons,
plugs, sinkers, swivels, hooks, spinners, guides, tips,
and safety-pins floating at large in the confines of
that capacious receptacle. Lost in the woods or
in a fog on a lake ? In the — well, you know — ^you
will find a compass that will help some. Grommet
pulled out of tent or tarp ? We have it, a spare one
or two; also nails, tacks, copper wire, and four pot-
hook chains. Lost your fish-line ? Never mind, in
this tucket of trinkets we have 50 yards of No. 5
casting-Hne and 30 yards of E trout-hne. Tossum
up a hollow tree ? We have the exact specific for
him, for here comes the crowning glory of the ditty-
bag a steel 'possum hook made from a bent file,
sharp as the devil, will hold a ton, good for any use
to which a stout hook may be put, from gaffing a
fish to lassoing a runaway canoe!
CHAPTER X
TAKING THE FAMILY ALONG
I HAVE two angler friends, both of them mighty
fishermen, both of great repute. The only blot
on the fair escutcheon of one of them is that he has
a tendency to revile the other for bringing along
his wife, children, puppy-dog, and pussy-cat when
he goes a-t routing. To me, however, that is one
of the chief charms in the character of the other
angler and I admire and respect his desire to share
his stream-side joys with his family, even though
I reaUze fully that it increases his personal labor and
decreases his available time for wetting trout-lines.
Piscator No. i, in common with the vast majority
of outdoorsmen, prefers to go it alone — to fish while
he is fishing and stay home when he is staying, and
not mix the two, and he usually propitiates the
partner of his joys and sorrows by a notable present
after each trip. He is privileged to do so — but, just
the same, he is missing something.
Let me tell you a httle story: some time ago a
few of us formed an organization whose avowed
purpose was camping out once a month every month
i8o
TAKING THE FAMILY ALONG i8i
of the year. We had lots of fun out of it, first and
last, but each and every camp left an aching gap
in the family circle when camping dates came around,
and each time the juveniles became more and more
clamorous to go, too. Then some one suggested that
we take the kids along, and forthwith the affair was
brought about — in mid-December; four daddies and
six kiddies — and maybe they didn't have the time
of their lives ! The oldest was thirteen, youngest
eight, three girls and three boys. We had a 14 by 16
wall-tent and stove, ten folding canvas camp-cots,
and complete cooking outfit. The six kids cut and
drove tent-pegs, helped put up the tent, cleaned out
the floor of it inside, set up the cot-beds, carried
water, chopped fire-wood, helped cook, did nearly
all the eating, and washed up afterward. We had
camp-games all evening and by eight o'clock six
warm sleeping-bags held six curly heads, which
would pop up every time the men outside around
the camp-fire cracked a joke or took a drink. Finally,
after awful threats, they all fell asleep, and soon we
turned in also.
Next morning a wash in the lake, breaking through
an inch of ice to do it, breakfast, dishes, more games,
an exploring trip through the forest; and if there
had been snow we were ready with snow-shoes and
skates. Altogether the kids had a gorgeous time
and broke camp with a howl of dismay, while the
i82 CAMP CRAFT
four daddies agreed that camping was even easier
with them than without.
The ladies at home put up with all this with
amused tolerance; but when, on the return, they
were assailed by a crowd of excited juveniles, radiant
with snapping eyes and blazing cheeks, they began
to put forth hints, more or less obvious, that it
wasn't just exactly the height of bliss to be left
behind, either !
I think that most outdoorsmen who have ob-
served keenly are agreed that, given the same com-
pleteness of equipment and the same real wilderness
conditions, the girl is as keen a sport as the man.
She enjoys the zest of the wild life as well as the man
does and she will endure hardship and fatigue quite
as well as he. She doesn't Hke tame wood-lot camp-
ing, where there is a farmhouse every mile; nor
camping in old clothes; nor in a wall-tent in plain
sight of a country road. But, take her along on a
long canoe trip through an uninhabited region, or
on a hunting and fishing trip in Maine or Canada,
where the whole world is yours as far as you can see,
and note how intensely she will enjoy every phase of
camp and trail Hfe, provided that you know your
business of going in reasonable comfort and do not
run her into the miseries and tribulations usually
endured by tenderfeet.
Getting back to the kids; they are passing through
TAKING THE FAMILY ALONG 183
their age of primal savagery, anyhow, and to them
every detail of camping and exploration is a joy
beyond all joys. Even the Glorious Fourth is tame
compared to a real camp ! They can go with you
anywhere — fishing, camping, canoeing; in the snipe
blind, the duck boat, or the up-land brush — any-
where but big-game hunting, for the hardships of
which they have not the necessary endurance.
Quick sales and small profits for them 1
A boy of nine to twelve can carry a 12-pound
pack, without tuckering out, from 6 to 10 miles,
depending upon the going. He can handle a bait
casting-rod quite as well as most men, usually
catches the most small trout on a trout trip, and in
salt-water work will take fish up to 6 pounds entirely
unaided. Rifle-shooting the American boy takes
naturally to. I do not approve of letting boys under
twelve go afield with either the .22 Or the small-
bore shotgun, but a good, accurate air-rifle is safe
in the hands of a reasonably steady boy of ten years
and older. With such a weapon he has an incentive
to go into the woods and learn the great game of
woodcraft. Most outdoor boys are great naturalists
and collectors, and if the thing is not overdone it
should be encouraged. As the curator of a great
museum once said to me, **the self-reliance, wood-
craft, and love of Nature that your boyhood col-
lecting trips taught you, far more than repaid any
1 84 CAMP CRAFT
slight drain that you may have made on wild-Hfe
resources."
For the boy's equipment, in that 12 pounds of
knapsack load must be found blanket, bed, pillow,
tackle, extra clothes, 2 pounds of provisions, and
usually a can of worms. So far as I know, there are
no boys' knapsacks for sale that are anything more
than toys, by no means strong enough for real trail
conditions. A very good one can be made out of a
canvas shell-bag, costing one dollar at the sporting-
goods stores. Take the strap off this and move the
leather ring tabs around to the rear upper corners
of the bag. Cut up the strap to make two shoulder-
straps and you have a servicable knapsack that will
fit a boy of ten to twelve years. For a blanket you
want something water-proof, warm enough for tem-
peratures below freezing, not over 12 inches long
by 4 inches in diameter when rolled up, and not
over 3>^ pounds weight. The size blanket for a
boy of nine or ten would be 4 feet 6 inches long by
36 inches wide, with pins or lacings to secure it to
the browse-bag. To make such a bag you will
need lyi yards of brown water-proof canvas or tent
silk, 30 inches wide, and to this sew a lining of fine
all-wool blanketing 36 by 54 inches, running the
seam an inch inside the canvas edge, and face this
lining with gray flannel with a gray tape edg-
ing around blanket and flannel. This rig weighs
TAKING THE FAMILY ALONG 185
3>^ pounds, is water-proof when rolled up, makes
a parcel 12 inches long by 4 inches diameter, which
can be secured on top of the knapsack with brown
tape straps, and it is comfortable down to freezing.
Provide it with a row of grommet holes along the
sides and foot, so it can be laced to the browse mat-
tress, for boys will wiggle around at night and will
unroll any number of blankets. A bag of some sort
for them ! For a browse-bag, 24 inches wide by 5
feet 6 inches long is ample; top face of brown canton
flannel, bottom face of brown 8-ounce canvas. It
weighs 15 ounces and goes with the pocket cook-kit,
tackle, bait, etc., in the pack. For a boy's clothing
outfit I would prescribe: high-top, water-proof
moccasins, fine, long wool stockings over his ordin-
ary ones, drab army wool shirt, corduroy knickers,
corduroy or mackinaw coat, soft felt hat, sweater,
bandanna, belt, sheath-knife and belt-axe. For
summer camping a khaki rig with khaki riding
breeches, stockings and low mocs is best. Personally,
I do not care much for summer camping, insects
and neighbors being too plentiful and cheap, but it's
a great time o' year for boys' camps.
For a little girl's fall, winter, and spring sleeping-
bag, we got up a very successful one as follows:
materials, 6 yards of brown "sateen" and four
25-cent rolls of fine AustraUan wool. Of these we
made two quilts, sewing them together around the
1 86 CAMP CRAFT
edges, leaving the top open and 2 feet of seam down
one side. Then, turning this inside out to bring the
seams inside, we had a Hght sleeping-bag for the
little lady {cet, 7), weighing but 2 pounds and rolling
into a parcel 14 by 3 inches in diameter. This, with
a small feather pillow, a browse-bag, flannel nightie,
toilet-kit and sweater, went into a Hght rubber-silk
raincoat, and the whole parcel weighed ^}4 pounds.
For her clothing in the cold months, white wool
sweater, white toque, mackinaw coat (child's size),
forestry cloth, loden, or corduroy bloomers and skirt,
long, fine, wool socks and high, water-proof moc-
casins. A pair of low camp moccasins are also de-
sirable, and, for additional warmth to the feet, a
pair of gray lumbermen's socks.
As already mentioned, the better halves of the
various parties to this yarn showed more than a
languid interest in being taken along next time,
especially after the infectious enthusiasm of the
youngsters had had time to get in its deadly work.
Nothing would do but complete outfits for them also.
There are no better sports afield than the outdoor
girls — heaven bless 'em ! — but they have to be con-
vinced first of all, that they lose no caste by going
camping, but rather acquire merit; second, that
the rig in which they flourish about is really be-
coming; and third, that their camp sleeping ac-
commodations will be really comfortable, not the
TAKING THE FAMILY ALONG 187
kind that require them to endure misery without a
whimper of protest.
Beginning with shelter, the tent must be light
and easily stowed, insect-tight, snow and rain proof,
roomy, and capable of taking camp-cots or stretcher
beds. Of course, the closed-front type is the only
one considered for ladies' use. At the same time,
especially in go-light and back-pack trips, the tent
weight is always an essential factor, 6 pounds being
about the limit. Three tents come to mind as ful-
fiUing these conditions — a wall-tent of the Miner's
type, a canoe-tent with ridge, and the Snow tent.
The two former are good, but the Snow tent (shown
in our illustrations) fulfils every requirement in pre-
cisely the most logical way. In front its shape
resembles an ordinary wall-tent, and this is carried
back for about 30 inches, after which the ridge
terminates with a double triangular plane filling
the space from the ridge to the rear wall and held
taut with a rear guy. It takes seven long stakes,
a pair of shears, and a short club to set up this tent,
and, once the stakes and shears are on hand, a very
few minutes suffice to put it up. The three side
stakes should stand about 3 feet above the ground
when driven, and to them are tied the tent corners
and mid-seam at the top and bottom of the wall.
The seventh stake should be stout and stand 4 feet
above the ground. To it is guyed the rear peak,
i88 CAMP CRAFT
while the shears which carry the ridge club on a
bridle lean somewhat against it, thus not only
stretching the tent taut, but providing three points
of support against outside wind strain. The Snow
tent is 6 by 6 feet floor space and weighs 6 pounds
in American drilling — the three-six tent, so to speak.
It is 7 feet high to the ridge, giving ample standing-
room and accommodates the wife and two children,
the former using a pack-sack sleeping-bag arranged
as a stretcher bed, and the latter sleeping on browse-
bags on a rubber floor-cloth. Let us see how this
tent suits itself to your lady's use. It's light —
6 pounds in driUing, three in Japanese silk; she
can carry it in her pack if need be — in case you are
already burdened with another tent for yourself
and the boys; it's roomy; the canvas does not lean
over you too soon, as in all wedge-shaped tents;
and there is room for two cots or stretcher beds,
with space to move about in between. Used as an
open tent, the broad rear triangle reflects the heat
of the camp-fire satisfactorily, and when the front
is closed in you have privacy and immunity from
mosquitoes. It is very quickly put up, making it a
good trail and canoe trip tent, and, finally, its sides
are high enough to permit the construction of all
sorts of Httle camp comforts, such as stick racks to
hang toilet and clothing pockets on, etc. You will
want your madam to be as comfortable as in her own
TAKING THE FAMILY ALONG 189
home, and this tent pretty nearly lets you do it, on
marvellously little weight.
Next, let us consider her sleeping accommodations.
Woman will not endure much discomfort from hard
browse mattresses, rope beds, and the Uke and still
keep up her nerve and enthusiasm. Some sort of a
modified stick bed, a plain stretcher bed or a pack-
sack sleeping-bag made up with the lacing running
around the poles will give her all the comfort she
wants. I show the latter made up in a Snow tent.
The head end of the browse-bag has a pocket across
it for insertion of a short head stick, which is tied
to the side poles. The lacings across the foot take
in also a foot stick, and this frame, formed of two
side poles, head stick, and foot stick, is lashed to
four stakes which form the legs of the bed. Other
available camp-beds that come to mind are the
standard stretcher beds, 72 by 36 inches, weight 3
pounds; the folding camp-cots, 6 feet 6 inches by
27 inches, weight 16 pounds, folding to a parcel 36
by 8 inches diameter; and Abercrombie's modi-
fication of the Indian stick bed. This consists of a
sort of khaki and wool quilt, with pockets running
across it every few inches, in each of which is a
tough, springy wooden rod. It is 72 by 27 inches
wide and rolls up into a parcel 8 inches in diameter,
weighing 6 pounds. To make up your bed, you simply
need two straight side poles and two short logs un-
I90 CAMP CRAFT
der them at the ends. Stake in place and then un-
roll and tie fast your stick bed, which is also a warm,
comfortable mattress. A good combination to go
with this is either one of the wool-and-silk quilt
bags previously described or the one of gabardine
and woven llama wool sold by the outfitters.
Either one will weigh about 3 pounds, making her
total weight for sleeping equipment with stick-bed
mattress 9 pounds. In addition, you should provide
wool sleeping socks, bed slippers, and wool pajamas.
Women lose interest in camping if expected to sleep
in their clothes.
Now as to how to clothe her: The garments must
look dressy, not too conspicuous or bizarre to be
worn on the train to the jumping-ofF place; must
be rain-proof and warm and rugged enough not to
worry her when the going is bad. Obviously, old
clothes or home-made rigs are hardly going to fill
the bill. (The bill, by the way, will not be much
under $50, but when it comes to outfitting Her, you
do not want anything cheap !) For summer camp-
ing you will get off rather easy — a neat, well-tailored
khaki suit will stand you $10, bloomers ^4.50, hat
^3, high water-proof hunting-shoes ^9, army drab
flannel shirt $3.50. Finish her off with a silk ban-
danna and she will tickle your eye as a modern
Diana of the woodland trail. So rigged out, she
will be cool and comfortable, laugh at thunder-
TAKING THE FAMILY ALONG 191
showers, can wade a brook or plough up a swamp,
and, with a dollar head-net, will be serene in a
country where insects and black-flies are not to be
ignored.
I forgot her hands. Get her a pair of buckskin
gloves with cuflTs, price $1.75. If the nights are cold
— and they generally are in any country worth
cruising in — add a mackinaw coat. Red-and-black
plaid is the popular women's color; and get the real
goods, costing around ^15, in all wool, not the shoddy
imitation which the department stores will sell you
for a couple of dollars. This coat is quite rain-proof,
light to carry, warm under all conditions, and is the
thing for her to slip on when the chill night breezes
keep you standing around the camp-fire.
For spring, fall, and winter camping she will
want tweed, forestry cloth, or loden garments and
thick wool socks inside the high hunting-shoes. The
modern divided skirt is no shocking affair; it looks
like the ordinary skirt with a double row of buttons
fore and aft, and it is essential to manoeuvring in
and out of canoes, over rough portages and moun-
tain trails. The coat is in the Norfolk jacket style,
tailored to fit her figure smartly. The two will
stand you a good stack of iron dollars, but she will
look right and feel right, which conditions a woman
prefers above much game and many fish.
On top of her crown of sunset hair (the novelist's
192 CAMP CRAFT
favorite material for his heroine's wig) you put a
floppy hat. Get it in mackinaw for cold weather,
and with a saucy cockade and a black tassel on the
side; the same thing in corduroy for summer. For
midwinter a wool toque or hood is better — some-
thing that will keep her ears warm.
After she gets all this outfit, her one idea will be
to preserve it immaculate from the merciless ele-
ments. Under no considerations will she daub those
lovely yellow boots with that horrid water-proofing
grease, and she will run for shelter at the first drop
of rain, just as if she were wearing the gauzy butterfly
wings of civilization. Woman, lovely woman, has —
alas ! — none of man's liking for worn, dirty, and
blood-clotted trail clothes, and, what is worse, she
will proceed to reform you the moment she is out-
fitted herself; and all your beloved and picturesquely
dirty clothes are sent to the wash forthwith — to
their utter ruination.
However, a few trips by trail and canoe will take
the raw edge oflF all that; the angel becomes more
tolerant and broad-minded, and you will find her
the best camp-mate you ever took along.
As to the kind of trip to take, I believe a good
down-stream canoe trip appeals more to the outdoor
girl than anything else. She will do thirty or forty
miles of river a day and will enter every bit of rough
water with squeals of delight. Do not rush her
TAKING THE FAMILY ALONG 193
along too fast; stop to fish or hunt or loaf when you
hit a particularly pretty camp site. Choose a really
wild river — one with no farms along its banks.
Maine, Canada, the Lake States and the Southland
are full of good rivers and lake chains. Take the
family along. They will have the time of their lives,
and you will work twice as hard as you usually
do, but it is worth it for the pleasure it gives to
others.
A go-light outfit is the ideal. It is not to be ex-
pected that women and children can pack any more
than their own sleeping-outfit and personal effects.
The weight they can carry on trail and portage will
be: for the madam, 22 pounds; boy, 10 to 12 pounds;
little girl, 6 pounds. The 22 pounds for the lady
would comprise her sleeping and personal kit, be-
sides a Hght tent for herself and the little girl. Your
own kit would run somewhere about 35 pounds and
would cover sleeping rig, cook-kit, tackle, tent, axe,
rifle, and ammunition. All this you take with you
en route as hand-baggage, and beware of intrusting
it to the tender mercies of the baggage-smasher and
the express companies, for the way these gentry
rip off pack straps and tump-bag handles is a crime,
no less ! The food bags, baker, and grate you can
check, also suitcases containing the wilderness garb,
which you exchange for your store clothes at the
jumping-ofF place.
194 CAMP CRAFT
On the portage your guide looks after the food-
bags, and you, with your pack-sack on your back, can
take one end of the canoe while the rest carry their
personal effects, making the portage in one lap.
So organized, you and the family can take almost
any trip, but beware of loading up heavy; right
there is where your troubles will begin.
And bestir yourself to make things comfortable
for them. A camp eating-table is to be had by
driving four stakes, tying on two cross-pieces, and
filling in with four 3-inch logs 5 feet long laid
side by side. Top and level off with gravel from
the brook. Nail up a cross-rail and hang up the
food-pack, or else swing the bags in pairs over the
rail.
Have a systematic set of jobs for the family on
making camp. The boys will be cutting stakes while
the little girl rustles browse and the madam un-
packs the various packs and gets out the tents and
sleeping-kits. Meanwhile you are cutting a supply
of poles. Next, the stakes are driven for the ladies*
tent, the bridle and club put on, the shears tied
together, and up she goes ! Poles 10 feet long are
ample, coming down close alongside the tent and
leaning slightly forward. Next goes up your own
tent, and the boy will be filling your browse-bag
while you set about getting supper. Two stakes and
a cross-pole tied to them, chain pothooks, and three
TAKING THE FAMILY ALONG 195
pails full of water lay the foundation for supper.
While they are coming to a boil, rig up your kitchen,
get out the frying-pan, grate, and the baker, and start
the madam on biscuits. We'll have rice, tea, fried
black bass, stewed apricots, and hot biscuits. Keep
the children away from the camp-fire or they will
kick dirt and sand into everything, for they are full
of high spirits and excitement and cannot exactly
be described as quiet.
Supper over, while they are washing dishes (have
on a pail of water during supper for this very purpose)
you light your pipe and set about making the
stretcher bed for the madam. That finished, see
that the little girl has browse enough and then look
over your own layout. If the tents need trenching,
now is the time to do it; after which you are free
to join the group around the camp-fire.
Early to bed is the rule in well-regulated camps,
and by nine o'clock all hands ought to have turned
in. See that every one is comfortable, and, if not,
insist on the defect being remedied, for it is utter
folly to endure a night of discomfort when you
should be sleeping soundly. Finally, throw a tarp
over the food-bags, take a nip, and turn in yourself.
And do not camp just for the sake of camping.
There must be an objective — bass, trout, a canoe
trip, feathered game, or general hunting. Camping
is hard work if you do it right. It is the most health-
196 CAMP CRAFT
ful occupation in the world and your bodily efficiency
rises to lOO per cent; but there must be some object
to it all — some keen, good sport that repays for all
your labor.
CHAPTER XI
WESTERN CAMPING
SOONER or later the Eastern sportsman takes
the bit in his teeth and goes on a big-game trip
in the Rockies. Elk, sheep, goat, and grizzly bear
are to be hunted in those mountains and cannot
under any circumstances be had east of the main
chain; after one has gotten his moose and his caribou,
maybe a black bear and a wild hog, his Eastern big-
game list is done, assuming that you already have
your deer. On the score of expense the Western
trip need not prove so very much more of a prop-
osition than one to the far Canadian wilds, where
moose abound, and it's a new and entirely different
country, alone worth the visit to camp in it; a
country of big mountains and big distances, where,
to get into the heart of the game districts, one must
travel from 50 to a 100 miles in from the nearest
railroad. The Eastern hunter finds it different from
what he has been accustomed to; not .that the wilder-
ness is essentially different but that the means of
transportation and the corresponding equipment
are different, necessitating different clothing, more
adequately suited to the needs of the country.
197
198 CAMP CRAFT
These few lines are penned to give a sketch of what
an Eastern hunter going into the Rockies for the
first time will have to take with him both as to
physical and mental equipment.
For main travel, instead of the canoe we have
the horse. That means a whole lot that one has to
know or pick up as fast as may be, for often you
and your horse will be entirely on your own re-
sources; yet you are comparative strangers, so to
speak — in point of fact, you may not know how to
even ride him faster than a walk ! Unless your guide
is to do everything for you, almost breathe for you,
it is essential to know how to pick your own animal
out of the corral or to apprehend him if pasturing
in a mountain meadow, how to bridle and saddle
him, what you can and cannot take on and about
your saddle, how to mount and ride him, and,
above all, about a thousand things that you can not
do on or around a horse. For it is a willy-witted
beast, whose principal motive in life is Fear, this
emotion governing everything he thinks and does.
He has no confidence in strangers, goes wild at the
mere sight of your camera flashing in the sunlight
over his head, shies all over the lot when you draw
your rifle — let alone attempt to fire it (which ac-
tion would probably land you over the moon) — and
the scent of a grizzly track two days old crossing
your trail will send him into fits. So much for
WESTERN CAMPING 199
your saddle-horse; your pack-horse is another born
lunatic, perverse and pig-headed, full of original
meanness, understanding no language outside of
vigorous expletive, and you must know how to pack
him, drive him, hobble him, catch him every morning,
and extricate him from a thousand difficulties and
misdemeanors into which he is always thrusting his
foolish head.
Getting back to the saddle-horse, for that is where
you begin as soon as your city duds are packed and
you show up with your war togs on : At first your
guide will rope him for you, but he will appreciate
your showing some class and cutting out your own
animal as soon as yqu get to know the game. The
bunch of cayuses is in the corral, quietly switching
flies. You enter, not forgetting to put up the bars
again, and they will at once herd over to one side,
with your particular animal buried deepest in the
crowd. Now, if you want to start a riot among those
horses, just go at them with the lariat whirling
around your head the way you've seen it done in
Wild West shows. Not that way at all, Genevieve !
The pitch is the thing, not the throw. Get out a
large loop behind you 10 or 12 feet long and 5 wide,
grasping the loop and rope together about a yard
along the rope beyond the ring. As you approach
the bunch in the corner, crowd them along the fence,
when they will all break and run by you in a string
200 CAMP CRAFT
past the fence, going at full speed. Docile, nice
horsies — want to work so bad that it's all they can
do to keep from running under your noose — Aher
nichtl Now is your chance, a good one at your
animal's neck, which is Hkely showing over the rump
of the next one ahead. You run forward, getting
momentum for your toss, and pitch the loop straight
ahead of you, aiming high, and, if successful, will get
him around the neck. Brace and bring him up all
standing. Talk to him as you come up along the
rope. Calm him down and then lead him with you
out of the corral. It is wonderful, the effect of the
tones of the human voice upon a horse. He is used
to being damned off his feet by some great, un-
feeling brute of a cow-man, and he understands no
other tones; so hand it to him strong, as if there was
nothing to it but to come along and be bridled. Tie
to hitching rail. Take the bit in your hand and put
it in his mouth. The chances are he will set his
teeth and laugh at you, but grip the gums of his
lower jaw over his teeth and press down and he'll
have to open his mouth. Then you slip in the bit
and secure the bridle with the strap back of his
ears. Be sure that this strap brings the bit up above
the last teeth or he will get a grip on it with his
teeth and you can do nothing with him. Take off
halter and tie bridle-reins around hitching rail in a
double hitch.
WESTERN CAMPING 201
Now comes the saddle. Hang the ofF stirrup up
on the pommel and throw the saddle on his back,
first adjusting the saddle-blanket, which should come
well forward on the neck, as there is where it is apt
to chafe. The cinch-ring is now dangling free on the
ofF side, and you reach under his belly and get three
turns of the cinch-strap through it and the saddle-
ring on the near side. Take up on these turns,
beginning with the innermost one, and cinch up
hard. You can hardly get it too tight, for he will
pufF himself full of wind anyhow, so that it will be
loose when he is breathing normally again. Test
it by trying your hand under the cinch-strap after
a few moments. It should go under with great
difficulty.
All beginners mount so poorly that they put a
heavy side drag on the saddle, often pulling the
whole works over if the cinch-strap is at all loose.
To secure the cinch-strap after all is tight, take two
or three turns of the end of it around the standing
loops and finish with a slip-knot in your second
half-hitch. Never pull through, as the sHp-knot is
the favorite tie of all straps and thongs about a horse
so that they can quickly be gotten loose again in
emergency. Lift the off stirrup from the pommel
and let it hang, and the horse is ready for you. The
next thing is what to put on him in the way of
duffel. Always approach your horse on the near
202 CAMP CRAFT
(left) side and say something to him as you step up.
Sling your rifle in its scabbard on the near side by
the thongs which you will find for that purpose on
the saddle. If you have an Eastern canvas rifle
case, it will answer by tying the thongs around the
tang outside the case and around the barrel forward.
Never tie through the carrying strap, as the latter
is apt to jolt off from the constant pull of the rifle's
weight, letting one end of the rifle dangle under your
horse's hoofs, scaring him to death, and he will most
probably bolt. A Western rifle scabbard is the thing,
as the canvas case is far too slow to unlimber when
a game chance comes your way on the mountain
trail — as it always is doing.
To the right, under your pommel, is the place for
your camera case. The leather 3-A case with a
pommel-strap riveted to it is convenient — any rig
that will permit taking the camera out of the case
when wanted, leaving the case in place on the saddle,
secured by the off side front thongs, with a hold over
the pommel. As the horse can easily see what is
going on on his back without turning his head, be
careful about flourishing that shiny camera about,
and the less bright work on it the better. And if
he will stand for your carrying a rifle on his back
at all it will be across your lap, never out over his
head or ears — most of them are skittish about any-
thing around their ears, and if you want to get them
WESTERN CAMPING 203
going wild just flap your sombrero over said aural
appendices and sit tight !
In the cantle-thongs goes your slicker, with
anything you want to carry rolled up inside of it.
This may include a mackinaw and package of grub
or fishing-tackle, but not much more, for you are
limited as to the height of that package on behind
for the excellent reason that one cannot throw one's
leg over it in mounting if much more than about
6 inches in height. Finally, before mounting, see
that you have no weighty and bulky articles about
you in pockets or slung about your shoulders, for
they will be sure to bounce out or loose or else dig a
hole through your clothes. Also be sure that what
you do need is not forgotten — pipe, matches, tobacco,
watch, compass, binoculars, knife, revolver, and
cartridges. All these will be wanted at one time or
another, also any maps used on the route; and the
place for them is stowed about you, not in the
pockets of your clothing in the slicker roll, nor yet
in the pack under the tarp on the pack-horse's back.
For no one is going to stop the caravan to let you
dig up these essentials once on the march. Chances
at small game of all kinds are frequent along these
mountain trails, and a good, accurate revolver and
proficiency in its use are mighty valuable assets.
You are now ready to mount. Approach your
horse on the left or near side — always; pass the
204 CAMP CRAFT
bridle-reins over his head and then turn the stirrup
facing forward and put your foot in it at once,
grabbing pommel and cantle and swinging up on
his back. In the act of mounting most horses go
forward so that you will swing into them instead
of away from them if you take the trouble to turn
the stirrup forward. In swinging up try to get a
good spring with your left foot so as not to drag
your weight on the saddle. A good horseman hardly
needs the pommel except to guide himself, so well
does he spring into the saddle. Once up, the first
thing to try is the stirrup length. There is no use
in enduring the discomfort of stirrups that do not
fit, for if too long you will soon be cut in two and if
too short the pain in your knees will shortly become
intolerable. The stirrups are adjusted by thongs
in the strap, cross-laced through holes which are
punched in pairs through the straps. Unlace and
lower or raise as needed, being sure that both stirrup
lengths are the same, for nothing is more annoying
than stirrups of uneven length, tending as they do
to topple one sideways out of the saddle on the
long side. Your stirrups will probably be the stand-
ard iron affairs, and the best position for your feet
is with the tap of the shoe well in the stirrup but
not as far back as the instep, so that in case of a
bad shy or fall of your horse you can easily step out.
If you are wearing mountain shoes or shoepacks with
WESTERN CAMPING 205
screw calks in the soles they will soon take a position
in the stirrup and stay there; if trying to use the
Eastern moccasins, either high or low, the oil in
them makes them slip through to the instep before
the horse has gone ten feet and much misery will
be yours.
In riding, if a novice, come up on your stirrups
and aim to ease down into the saddle at every other
bump of the horse (his gait gives just twice as many
bumps as you can reasonably handle). When walk-
ing there is not so much for you to do but to keep
him going with a clout over the neck now and
then with the ends of the reins, and also to keep
him from acquiring the bad habit of stopping to
nibble a bit of grass or a tempting weed every few
minutes. If you let him do this a few times he con-
cludes that you are easy and will impose on you to
the limit, with the result that you will be constantly
falling behind the pack-train. In galloping you want
a forward thrust to the stirrups; the motion is easy,
in long leaps or bounds, and you let yourself go
with him, being careful not to lean too much for-
ward or the pommel will soon get into an argument
with your vest that may pull you forward over his
head. In general, try to sit easy, with loose body
and arms; it is the unnecessary rigidity that all be-
ginners assume that causes them so much pounding
and subsequent soreness. Watch an Indian gal-
2o6 CAMP CRAFT
loping along, 30 miles in a morning, as free and loose
in every muscle as if he were just flopping on the
horse's saddle; yet he can keep it up mile after mile
and neither horse nor man get tired. It is the
pounding of a rigid rider that makes a horse mad —
that and his total lack of confidence in you as his
rider and his alleged master.
You will find that considerable proficiency as a
rider will be demanded of you almost the first day
out. The pack-animals are always getting out of
Hne, ofF the trail, and mixed up in the timber, and
all hands will have to aid in driving them back again.
In such cases a touch of the spur or a thrash of your
reins puts your horse into full speed and your job
as outrider rounding up the perverse cayuses begins.
Then, for one reason or another — prairie-chicken,
a duck pond to investigate or a change to make in
your appurtenances — ^you become separated from
the main pack-train for considerable stretches of
time, and you. and your horse are all alone, with no
guide or horse wrangler to help you out in case you
get into difficulties. Here are several things to
keep in mind, the principal of which is never to let
your horse get out of hand. They are fooHsh enough
when you are on them and, if starting in to gallop,
may get excited and turn the affair into a genuine
bolt; so it is well to check up before he gets out of
hand. But, dismounted, your horse becomes as
WESTERN CAMPING 207
cunning as Satan himself. He will nibble quietly
enough so long as you have his reins or do not at-
tempt to regain them; but, once he has them, he
knows enough not to let you get hold of them again.
The beginner in such cases is apt to rush at the
horse and try to catch him by his sprinting speed.
As well try to catch the wind ! Work up to him
casually and regain the reins if you can, but it is
much better on a stalk with a comparatively strange
horse to tie him up somewhere. And, in doing this,
be sure that it is in no place where he can hang him-
self or get tangled up in the reins while you are off
on the stalk.
A favorite trick of his is to step into his bridle-
reins when allowed to graze near you and then most
obstinately to stand firmly on one pin while you
try to get him to raise it. A sharp blow back of
the fetlock is the only thing. If, in remounting, you
are clumsy and pull the whole saddle over, get his
reins and stop him as quickly as possible, tie him
up, and then take off the whole thing, readjust the
saddle-blanket, and retighten the cinch-strap. No
makeshift pushing it back will do, for the blanket
is sure to have a crease in it or to be out of place,
with the resulting saddle chafing. In riding through
timber your horse is always either sending you too
near a tree or else he goes between two of them so
that one of them is sure to take ofF your knee. Re-
2o8 CAMP CRAFT
member that a push with your hand on the tree
will always shove the horse far enough over to one
side to let your leg pass, and if done quickly enough
you can even work him through two trees without
either barking your leg.
CHAPTER XII
THE LONE JACK DIAMOND HITCH, TENTS, AND
CLOTHING
IN riding your saddle-horse and leading your pack-
horse, a new variety of experiences is in store.
The halter of the led horse should not be less than
8 feet long, with a knot in the end of it. Never
carry it in any form of hitch or knot around your
hand or fasten it to your pommel. The best scheme
is to carry it in a loose loop with standing and run-
ning strands grasped in your hands. Then, if the
led horse balks or stops for any reason, the loop
slips through your hand, giving you time to check
your saddle-horse without losing your grip on the
halter. I once nearly had my hand torn ofF by
getting a hitch in the halter around my fingers.
We were working through down timber, and ''Injun,"
my pack-horse, persisted in balking at every tree
across the trail over which we jumped. As a rule
the loop in the halter would slip through, giving me
time to stop my saddle-horse, "Blaze." At about
the hundredth time, however, the rope, instead of
slipping, twisted a half-hitch over my fingers, and
209
2IO
CAMP CRAFT
the next instant I was hung up between the two
horses, with Injun showing his teeth and backing
like a fiend on one side of a down tree and Blaze
going ahead full speed, on the other side. I let out
a cuss that they heard clear to the Woolworth Build-
eiN«H I — { MeoK
Hee<
^
- 1 }
^
J
L
t:
.
r
NEAK
1 ^
K/ J
RUMf
LONE JACK HITCH, Fig. 1
Throw lengthwise of pack, gather up into a loop, give it a
twist, throw across pack, and catch in cinch-ring.
ing, in Broadway, and just checked Blaze in time
to save being unseated. It put my hand so far
to the bad that Injun had to be tied to the tail of
another pack-horse, and it was six months before the
first and Httle fingers could be flexed even moderately.
At present writing they are still stiff.
Coming to the pack-cayuses, a party of four hunt-
ers can subsist for a month with what provisions and
duffel they can carry between them, each leading a
pack-horse. The animal carries a pack-saddle, an
affair looking like a sawbuck with its short legs se-
LONE JACK DIAMOND HITCH 211
cured by thongs to flat wooden plates shaped to fit
the contours of a horse's back. Under this goes a
pack-pad made of felt and cloth, about an inch
thick, and it has a cinch-strap, also breast and
CIWCH
ifCtK
OFF
7
WEAR.
V
T^WNlC^.
C»i^«-H
fr
LONE JACK HITCH, Fig. 2
Tighten loop hard, carry slack around rear corner of near
pannier, pull out bight between ropes of cross-loop and
pass around rear corner of oflF pannier.
breeching straps, all designed so as to take the load
weight either up or down hill, or sideways in case
the cayuse falls over or lies down, both of which
some of them manage to do in plain sight of the
whole disgusted pack-train. As a rule, the horse-
wranglers of a large outfit take care of all the cayuse
work, but if you go in a small party or without guides,
having a few mountain men along as companions,
you will be expected to do your share of the packing.
Assuming that the horse expert of the party has put
212
CAMP CRAFT
on the pack-saddle for you and tied him to a tree,
it is up to you to report him ready for the trail.
Across the top of the "tree/* as the sawbuck part
of the saddle is called, you will find the sling ropes
LONE JACK HITCH. Fig. 3
Brace foot against horse's flank and spread rear half of
diamond. Pass slack around off pannier.
which are to go around your panniers and whatever
load you put on the tree. Unwind these ropes and
let hang on each side of the horse. Pick up the
near pannier and hang it over the tree by its leather
loop strap. Same with the off pannier. Next, take
a turn of the sling rope on each side around the
pannier outside, up over the forward tree, and down
under, behind the pannier. Come up underneath
the pannier with it, cinch tight, taking part of the
pannier's weight off its straps, and then secure with
LONE JACK DIAMOND HITCH 213
a loop-knot around the sling rope where crossed
in front of the pannier. Do the same with the off
pannier. Now you are ready for some long packages,
say, a couple of dufFel-bags on top of each pannier.
NCCK
LONE JACK HITCH, Fig. 4
Keeping slack tight, go under horse's neck, grab end of rope,
brace against horse, and stretch forward half of diamond.
Pass slack around front corner of near pannier and fin-
ish by securing in cinch-ring.
making a nearly level surface across the top of the
tree and giving you a foundation for your bulkiest
parcel. This may be the big tent, your bed roll,
the tent-stove or the Dutch oven — any large parcel
that must be centred over the horse's back. This
completes the load and the total should not exceed
1 20 pounds for the mountains and 150 for the plains.
Test the load for balance by shaking it gently; it
should balance nicely and show no tendency to
work over to one side, otherwise take off and read-
214 CAMP CRAFT
just the weights to make a balance. You are now
ready for the sling ropes again.
Throw each one of them across the pack, pass
through the loop previously made in the sHng rope
on the back of each pannier, and cinch tight, coming
up hard on the rope ends and securing with a slip-
knot. Test the load for balance again. If O. K.,
throw the tarp over the pack and get out your
hitch rope. We used the government diamond, the
squaw hitch and the Lone Jack, the latter most
of the time, because one man can sling it, whereas
the government diamond is better done with two
men. If you are working at your horse alone, with
all the others busy at their pack-animals and all
expected to be ready at the call, "Over the river!"
better use the Lone Jack hitch. Lay the cinch-strap
under your horse with the hook on the far side and
well in under him to allow for coming out again when
you pull up the diamond loop. Stand at the near
shoulder of your horse, leave about a yard of the
end of the hitch rope on the ground at your feet
and throw the rest of it lengthwise of the pack,
letting the bight fall on the near side. Gather this
residue up, make a long loop of it, and throw it
across the pack to the far side. Reach under the
horse and hook this loop in the cinch-hook. Take
up your slack around the near hind corner of the
pannier and cinch up on your loop, "giving her
LONE JACK DIAMOND HITCH 215
both barrels," as the mountain men say, for upon
the tightness of that loop depends the staying
quality of your future diamond.
You will note that when this loop went over the
pack it crossed also over the length that you originally
threw lengthwise of the pack. Pull out a loop of
this length between your two cross-ropes, go around
on the far side of your horse, grab this loop, and pass
it around the far hind corner of your pannier. Put
your foot on the horse's flank and pull like the devil
on this rope, thus spreading the rear cross-rope out
backward to form the hinder half of your diamond.
Pass the slack around the bottom of the far pannier,
pass up around the front corner, dive under the horse's
neck, still holding tight to that rope, grab the other
end of it (which is the end of the original length of
rope that you threw lengthwise of the pack when you
began), pull out all slack, and then get a good brace
and pull for all you are worth on it, standing at the
original position in which you began, viz., the near
shoulder of the horse. This last heave will pull out
the front cross-rope to form the front half of your
diamond. Holding fast to it, so as to let no slack
get in, pass it around the front near corner of your
near pannier and tie it finally in the cinch-ring. The
hitch is now done, and it is a good one, provided that
you let no slack get in and that you put plenty of
beef into it. "Cinch up till he grunts" is a good old
2i6 CAMP CRAFT
rule. I taught this hitch to a Mexican war corre-
spondent in the Field and Stream office in ten min-
utes, using a blanket roll for the "horse" (with books
for his legs) and a camp-pillow for the pack. The
cinch-hook was made of a manuscript hook, and
some tump-line did duty for the hitch rope. Never
did I see a more enthusiastic man than that cor-
respondent after he had learnt that hitch, for his
Indian packers had always imposed on him, because
they knew he couldn't pack a horse himself. Per-
haps the accompanying illustrations will help some
brother to learn the Lone Jack hitch at home.
In general. Western camping differs from Eastern
because the horse transportation permits taking a
big tent along and a stove to go in it, and it is the
right tent, because in Montana, Alberta, British
Columbia, and Alaska, the opening of the big-game
season generally coincides with the first snows,
which are always heavy, a foot to 2 feet deep. In
Wyoming, Idaho, and Washington the season opens
September i, so that you have little snow to con-
tend with and open-tent camps are all right; but
even there the main camp is best a wall-tent or
Sibley, with a few spike tents for outlying camps.
The main camp must have lots of rope, 20 or 30
pounds of it, for making temporary corrals, rescuing
horses, etc., a full set of bells and hobbles, a shoeing
set, a full-grown axe, and an oven of some sort for
LONE JACK DIAMOND HITCH 217
making fresh bread, all of which total up beyond
the limits of any back-pack trip. Your go-light
equipment will be just right for outlying camps
and trips of a few days away from the main camp
after special game chances; so do not hesitate about
taking it along, but do not insist at the same time
that the mountain man's rig be left behind, for
yours has very definite limitations in that coun-
try. Clothing requires some modification from
standard Eastern practice. You have rain, cloud,
snow, ice, sunshine, and intolerable heat to contend
with in alternate streaks, and the wind is blowing
hard all the time. The Eastern mackinaw is apt
to be chilly, as the wind gets through its weave.
The Western men pin their faith to a good vest,
which is left open until the cold bites in at high
points on the trail, when it is buttoned up. If more
protection is required they have recourse to the sheep-
fleece-lined leather greatjacket, with a high collar,
carried on the cantle wrapped up in the oilskin
slicker, which is often trotted out for the frequent
showers which occur in the mountains. A good
combination for warmth and lightness is a sweater-
coat of fine, light wool, backed up with a thin rubber
rain-jacket, which latter can be carried in your coat
pocket. This with a warm, wool vest will take care
of nearly all temperature changes. Do not bring
out any chaps, spurs, cowboy boots, or any horse
2i8 CAMP CRAFT
specialities except a good pair of riding-gloves with
a pair of wool finger mitts for cold-weather riding,
also a Western wide-rimmed felt hat; it 'cannot be
beaten for conditions in that country. And do not
leave behind your belt-axe under the impression that
the main camp-axe will be all that is needful. A
belt-axe strapped to your coat is one of the few
things you positively must have when starting out
for the day*s hunt in that country, for you may
not get back that day at all.
Good wool night socks and a warm sleeping-bag
will be wanted, also at least four pair of day socks
and two changes of wool underclothing and two
pair of pants. You will be out in the snow all day
long and come home wet through at night, when,
at the first spare moment, you take the freezing,
soaking things off and change into warm, dry trousers,
drawers, and socks. A pair of low camp mocs, made
of thick "moosehide" so that you can step out in
the snowy paths about the tent without their soaking
through (as all the buckskin ones do), is the answer
to footgear about camp. Under a spruce-tree near
the tent is usually a drying fire; as soon as your share
of wood-chopping, cooking, or helping about camp
is done wring the water out of those wet clothes
which you are to wear next day and string them
around the drying fire. It is quite an art to get
these things dry without scorching or ruining them.
LONE JACK DIAMOND HITCH 219
and the secret of It is to take your time and not get
too ambitious about hanging things too near the
fire. Next, your boots want a good dubbing all over
with boot grease or elk fat, after which they are set
aside on the wood-pile, not too near the stove, so
that they will gradually dry instead of freezing stiff
as they are sure to do anywhere else. After supper
the dry and near-dry clothes are brought inside the
main tent and hung up on the clothes-line which
goes along under the ridge-pole. Next, you have
rifle and revolver to dry and clean. Snow will have
gotten into the action of both and then turned to
water, and they want wiping down and oihng in
addition to the regulation cleaning of the barrel.
By the way, one of the best cleaning solutions for
modern cartridge residue in the barrel is plain, strong
ammonia, followed up with oiled rags. Rags soaked
in strong ammonia will come out black with dirt
after you think that the rifle is thoroughly cleaned
with the usual oils and solvents.
Last thing of all: going to bed. In order to get
room for eating and daily occupations in the tent,
Western camp regulations contemplate every man
rolling up his bed roll or sleeping-bag as soon as he
IS dressed in the morning, whereupon they are piled
in a corner of the tent, giving room to manoeuvre
about in the rest of it during the day. Each man
has his allotted place at night, and when the carbide
220 CAMP CRAFT
lamp begins to make signs that its charge is ap-
proaching exhaustion and the pipes have all been
smoked and the stories told, each one digs out his
bed roll and spreads it in his particular corner. It
will be cold enough by midnight, even with a first-
class sleeping-bag, to require that you keep on some
of your clothes at night. I have usually been com-
fortable in that country sleeping in my underclothes
with wool sleeping-socks and wool slippers on my
feet inside the bag, wool pajamas, a sleeping-cap,
and, on very cold nights, a soft, fine wool sweater
added. I throw my coat over the whole works and
find a small breathing-hole somewhere through its
folds. You will chill down quickly in that bitter night
cold if you breathe the frosty air direct without any
covering of any kind over your head.
The above sketch may give you some idea of the
conditions obtaining. If you go prepared to meet
them you will have a fine, comfortable experience
with no hard-luck tales and no life-and-death thrillers
to relate. If you disregard them, by that much will
Misery camp on your trail !
CHAPTER XIII
GETTING ON YOUR FEET
ALMOST every line of human endeavor has its
L tale of uplift, of getting on one's feet; but I
have yet to see any article devoted exclusively to
the aspects of the subject as they appear in the out-
door world. Yet, by camp and trail, one is on one's
feet most of the time, and unless these pedal ex-
tensions are properly housed, their owner is in for
considerable misery. The main trouble is, however,
a tendency to overdo it — to house one's feet so
thoroughly and strongly that 3 or 4 pounds of hob-
nails and leather are to be waved about all day long
at the end of the unfortunate owner's legs, the while
said owner suffers unceasingly from chronic tired
feeling. Aside from out-and-out mountain country,
I have yet to see the country that is too rough for
the high cowhide or moosehide moccasin — "lar-
rigans," as they are called in the north. But don't
mistake me; this is purely an opinion based on
personal experience. A bigger and heavier man
would no doubt find the cruiser moccasin or the
hunter's boot more serviceable in the same country.
I only confess to 127 pounds of muscle and bone
222 CAMP CRAFT
strung along 5 feet 8 of stature, and I can jump and
land on a ledge of rock in moccasins and stick there,
whereas the same stunt in a heavier man would
undoubtedly strain or break his ankle. In general,
light, wiry men will take naturally to moccasins — •
not the thin buckskin ones that leak in a heavy dew,
but the single or double sole "moosehide" product,
water-proof and big enough to allow one or two
thicknesses of gray lumbermen's socks to intervene
and soften the shock and pressure of climbing, run-
ning, and walking in rough country. Such a pair of
mocs will weigh 24 ounces — 12 ounces to the foot
— ^will stand 8 inches high, and be water-proof to
their tops, for there is a soft leather bellows tongue
inside, sewed tight to the tops and vamp. They
lace up with rawhide thongs, and the uppers are
usually of heavy deerskin, oil-tanned. Single or
double sole — take your choice. With them you can
run over windfalls, along down trees, up steep rock
escarpments, down rocky streams, and across muddy
bogs with equal facility, and you will be dancing
a jig by nightfall, when the man with heavy boots
can only sit on a log and blink at you. Mocs of
this kind are good for still-hunting trips, for long
canoe trips where there is wooded country on the
banks to be hunted, and for forest cruising on snow-
shoes. They are not good for hunting in rough,
mountainous country with little timber, nor for a
GETTING ON YOUR FEET 223
canoe trip devoted exclusively to fishing and water
travel, nor for salt-marsh gunning and salt-water
canoeing. In snowy weather the high moc comes
into its own again. You cannot beat it for snow-
shoe gear — two pair of fine, all-wool knitted socks
and one of gray lumbermen's socks inside the moc-
casins, and outside of them the snow-shoe thongs.
Another warm moc for snow wear grows ready
to order on caribou and moose. They are called
*' shanks" in the north country and are made of
the gambrel-joint skin of the hind legs of the animals
in question, and a pair of them grows on every
caribou you shoot. They are worn over socks, with
the hair side out. So far as I know, the only way
to own a pair is to shoot one or else obtain them by
barter with the aborigines.
The low moccasin of thick moosehide or cowhide
is the real moccasin as distinguished from the lar-
rigan, or top moccasin. This moc is laced by a thong
passing completely around it, being rove through
slits along the top and crossing over the tongue in a
loop and a bow-knot. Pulling taut on the thong
cinches the moc tight to your foot all around. For
a canoe trip, where you do not expect much inland
tramping outside of portages, I do not know of a
more comfortable footgear than the low, water-proof
HOC and a pair of wool socks coming up and folding
ver the cufF of your khaki or moleskin breeches.
224 CAMP CRAFT
And for mountain work, where you tramp all day
in heavy, laced boots, this moc is a welcome relief
to wear around camp; and, when staying in to skin
out trophies or putter about camp, they are the acme
of solid comfort.
All these thick-hide mocs will require occasional
water-proofing and repairing, also rubbing down
with neat's-foot oil to keep the leather supple. The
water-proof greases require to be slightly warmed to
enable you to daub them on the seams, and the oils
need plenty of elbow grease and generosity in rub-
bing them in. At ordinary temperatures they stick
on in the form of an impervious gum, and a good
dose of grease in seams and stitches will make your
mocs water-proof for a considerable time of complete
immersion. As you wear them for several hard
hunting trips your mocs will develop broken stitches
here and there, particularly around the vamp at the
toe and the "T" heel joint. For repairs you will
require an awl, two blunt leather needles, and two
waxed lengths of shoe twine. Clean out the old
stitch-holes back to where the twine is sound and
start your repair seam a couple of stitches back,
using both needles stitched opposite and cinched as
taut as they will go, finishing with a hard knot.
Along about the second season your mocs will develop
a new disease. The threads will stretch from long
use, allowing the seam to bird-mouth open when
GETTING ON YOUR FEET 225
you flatten them to go in your pack. By the same
token they will leak all along the seam, even in a
damp meadow. To have them resewn by the maker
will cost almost as much as a new pair, but if you
send them to your little dago shoemaker around the
corner all will be well for a "price-a fifta-da cents,"
and you may get another season's wear out of them.
Or, if you have the time and ambition, you can
resew them yourself in a day's work, using two
needles and following the original stitch-holes.
The hunting-boot grows in all sizes, from a sort
of glorified shoe made of green "elkhide" with a
water-proofed tongue, to a tall, laced-up-to-your-
knee snake-discourager that would put an armor-
plate greave to shame. You can get these commod-
ities in all prices from $3 to ^15, but the bootman's
problem is to give you wear and strength in a light
boot, and this cannot be done cheaply. You step
2,000 paces for every mile, and 15 to 20 miles is no
great day's hunt. And this will be creeping up
rocky slopes, hurdling through down timber, turkey-
trotting over windfalls, gamboHng lightly from
hummock to hummock over the muskeg, and worm-
ing perseveringly through scrub brush. Wherefore,
if you put more than a pound and a half of boot on
each foot, your day's work is apt to be exhausting
beyond the legal limit.
You can get almost any height and almost any
226 CAMP CRAFT
specification for your hunting-boot, but I would limit
the weight to about 3 pounds 6 ounces.
I do not attempt to pose as an authority on
leather tanning processes. Some of the best boots
made are mineral-tanned; others equally as good,
if not better, are vegetable-tanned, and these man-
ufacturers vehemently abjure all mineral processes
as "unnatural." To my mind, as a civil and elec-
trical engineer for twenty years before going ex-
clusively into the outdoor game, there is little dif-
ference in the chemistry of leather if either process
is correctly and honestly carried out. Fixing the
leather fibres by chemical action is the object of all
tanning, and the vegetable processes will naturally
take longer than the mineral because the tannic
properties are less concentrated in barks and roots
than in the chemical salts themselves. On the other
hand, if the mineral processes are unduly hurried,
your leather will be acid-burnt and have little
durability. Following the tanning, the leather must
be oil-impregnated to resist the destructive action
of alternate wetting and drying, and here the vege-
table-tan man uses animal oils and the mineral-tan
party may or may not use mineral oils. Just why
alum and potassium bichromate tanned leathers
should require some form of petroleum oil to follow
is not apparent — certainly not the small amount of
sulphuric acid present in the tan-liquor. I have
GETTING ON YOUR FEET 227
used neat's-foot oil and animal grease on mineral-
tanned mocs and boots for years without any harm-
ful results whatever.
However, let us prescribe for our hunting-boots
honest, A-i quality vegetable or mineral tanned grain
leather, not buffed; calfskin or **elkskin'* for the
uppers, not over 1-16 inch thick, soft and pliant;
for the bottoms or vamps, grain leather cowhide or
"moosehide" 3-32 inch thick; inner sole attached to
welt by some sort of water-proof seam or else bottom
carried up in one piece to form a vamp; outer sole of
oak-tanned hide leather stitched to welt — no nails —
protecting counter and tip at heel and toe; built-
up heels of oak-tanned hide leather plates; bellows
tongue water-tight to the top; rawhide lacers, large
eyelet holes — the larger the more grip they take on
the leather and the less likely to pull out. Weight
not over 3^ pounds to the pair in the No. 12 size.
All the boot people are excessively modest about
cataloguing the weights of their product, but an
inquiry will usually give you the facts, and many
of the sportsmen's outfitters give the weights of all
the boots they carry. The manufactured sizes run
from 6 to 1 2 in men's boots, 3 to 6 boys' and 4 to 9
ladies'. All of them append an order blank with
measuring diagrams, so as to fit you by mail, and
some factories will make the entire boot to order if
they cannot fit these measurements with stock sizes.
228 CAMP CRAFT
In no case is it necessary to go the factory to be
fitted, but the maker should always be told to allow
for sock room and how many pair. You should
always figure on at least one pair, and customarily
for one pair of ordinary street socks and one pair
of heavy knit ones. These latter come up over your
trouser leg or cufF of riding-breeches, secure with a
garter, and turn down the overlap.
As to the kinds of leather used in hunting-boots,
I venture to state that they all come out of the
Chicago stock-yards. It is what the maker does
with his hide that counts; how he tans it; whether
or not he rejects flanky and oil-rotten spots, etc.,
rather than the kind of animal that the hide grew on.
"Moosehide" and "elkhide" are in the nature
of things trade terms, for neither animal is salable in
the States where it can be hunted, and, with the ex-
ception of a few moccasin-makers up in the woods
of Maine and Wisconsin, genuine moosehide is not
used, nor is it essentially any better than tough old
Texas steer.
For mountain work, either hobnails or screw
calks are essential. In the Alps we always con-
sidered two sure signs of a tenderfoot to be a shoe
full of hobnails and an alpenstock that would not
hold its owner's weight when used as a trapeze bar.
The real glacier stormer will have but ten hobs
or calks in the sole and five in the heel, any one of
FOOT-WEAR.
I. Mocs and socks for snow-shoeing. 2. Larrigans for the canoe trip. 3. Hunting-boots.
4. Rubber hip-boots for salt-water gunning.
GETTING ON YOUR FEET 229
which will withstand his whole jumping weight;
and the nails are far enough apart to get into the
crevices of the rocks and stick; and, as for the
alpenstock, he is more than likely to carry an ice-axe
instead.
Midway between the boot and the moc comes the
popular cruiser, or shoepack. It is essentially the
heavy man's protest against the too-thin and too-
flexible moccasin. A sole and a heel are added to the
moc, and to do this without leaking through the
stitches the moccasin is made double, the outer sewed
to the welt and the welt being sewed to the sole. To
support the arch of the boot the sole is also curved
up under the instep. Many heavy men suffer from
falling arch, especially on flat city streets, but this
trouble is far less likely to assail one in woods tramp-
ing. Cruiser mocs come in sizes from 3 to 12 and
heights from 7 inches to 16 inches. A good average
specification would be:
Bottoms and uppers of strong, water-proof grained
leather, heights 7 to 16 inches, double or single
bottoms, flexible oak-tanned leather out-soles, hand-
sewed to the welt, the latter curving up to the seam
joining the uppers. Stitches into but not through
this outer sole or welt and through the outer sole.
Heel added, if desired. Rawhide lacing, water-tight
bellows tongue. A good moc for a heavy man.
For still-hunting, and especially where there is
230 CAMP CRAFT
snow on the ground, an ideal boot is the leather
topped **over," as this boot not only keeps the feet
dry in a wet snow but with a heavy pair of woolen
socks you can keep going all aay without hurting
your feet. Another thing to consider is that you can
go through the woods over dead limbs and twigs,
etc., with this boot as quietly as with a moccasin.
And in all these high-top boots be sure and knot
the lacing over the instep before lacing up the calf.
Otherwise the instep will steal lacing from the uppers,
with the result of shutting off circulation in the calf
of your leg.
For marsh and duck shooting neither the shoe
nor the moc is suitable. You can worry along with
either, but sooner or later a marsh hole or a salt
creek gums the works, and that usually when there
is a flock marked down just across the creek or a
cripple is leading you a merry bog trot over fathoms
of black mud. And in duck shooting some one has
to wade out now and then, even if the stools are all
placed from the duck boat; so a pair of rubber hip
or thigh boots are a necessity unless your partner
is always to be "it.'* Here again quality counts for
lightness and durability. The better the rubber, the
longer they wear and the less they will tire you. A
good pair can be had from four dollars to six dollars.
Below four dollars the boot is dear at any price. And
be sure to include a pair of wool boot socks, for they
GETTING ON YOUR FEET 231
not only keep your feet from freezing off but save
you from becoming the landlord of a fine crop of
world-beater blisters due to the chafing of a loose
boot.
For surf fishing, too, the hip rubber boot is the
only foot-gear. On the flat Long Island beaches you
have to wade well out into the undertow to cast far
enough so as to land beyond the breakers, and on
the Jersey, Virginia, and Carolina coasts to land your
lead in a Hkely hole often calls for a hop, skip, and
jump down the undertow to the edge of the combers,
as you hurl the bait over 2CXD feet into the fishy ocean.
On trout streams there are three kinds of foot-
gear, each one having its own best time of year and
type of stream. In the early spring when the ice
has just gone out you will invite cramps and rheuma-
tism if you wear anything but water-proof foot-gear
and lined inside with wool socks at that. For a
rocky stream with few large pools and plenty of
bowlders for fording, a 15-inch-high pair of water-
proof hunting-boots with steel calks in the soles
will answer, and in mid-summer either a pair of holey
shoes or a pair of rubber wading stockings with hob-
nailed canvas shoes will answer. These will require
wool socks made especially to wear in between
the wading stocking and the canvas shoe. They
protect the rubber from chafing with sand and
canvas inside the shoe and add appreciably to the
232 CAMP CRAFT
warmth of your foot. Waders come in sizes 6 to 12
and all heights from waist or breast high down to
thigh height. They can also be bought with leather,
hobnailed soles and an instep strap to tighten over
your foot. A rubber repair-kit is essential for any
cold-water trout trip, as leaky waders are no waders
at all. If you already own a pair of rubber boots
a happy solution of the wader problem is a pair of
leather wading sandals to prevent the boots slipping
and covering you with obloquy, wet breeches and
profanity. They have adjusting straps which will
take any size boot and plenty of hobnails in the toe,
the heel being absent.
In the higher boots some sort of buckle strap is
advisable for quickly and strongly tightening the
boot around your calf. Side lacings are also furnished
to be adjusted once for all for the weight of trousers
or socks underneath so that the leg will come snug
when laced up. A compass pocket on the boot side
is a favorite wrinkle with engineers and might well
be specified by sportsmen, as with a hunting-case
compass safely ensconced in your boot-leg it is
difficult to go hunting without taking it along, no
matter how much you change your clothes.
Speaking of the difference between engineers' and
sportsmen's boots, it is well to reflect that the en-
gineer wants durability above all things, even at
considerable weight. His job is day in and day out
GETTING ON YOUR FEET 233
all the year, and he is not necessarily tramping all
the time. He may be putting in a lot of time over
his instrument or standing around bossing a gang
of "wops" on a concrete job, so a few ounces extra
weight do not bother him enough to sacrifice any
durability. The hunter, on the other hand, must
cover a lot of territory every day and his total wear
on the boots will be only a few weeks each year.
Wherefore he looks for ease, flexibility, and lightness,
even if his boots are not so durable as the engineer's.
Let us look for a minute at some foot-gear habitu-
ally worn by lumbermen and trappers. A popular
boot in the Hudson Bay Company's empire is the
botte sauvage of the voyageur. This is in effect
a cowhide boot and a cruiser moccasin all in one,
with a strap over the instep for close fitting when
a sock is put on under the boot.
The lumberjack, who works in wet snow, swamp,
and river the entire winter and spring, uses larrigans
with rubber bottoms or rubber arctics with felt leg-
boots inside. The sportsman can spend several
weeks in an almost normal condition of wet feet
without suffering in mild fall weather, since his wool
socks keep his feet warm in spite of the wet; but in
midwinter and raw March such a course would
result in cold and pneumonia. Wherefore, rubber,
the best and liveliest procurable, forced into canvas
and leather for the bottom and uppers, and we get
234 CAMP CRAFT
the lumberman's larrigan — water-proof, mud-proof,
and slush-proof. Comes in six heights, about four
dollars and fifty cents for the loinch, with or without
rubber heel. It's a great favorite with trappers and
woodsmen who have a good deal of snow and wet to
work in week after week. The lumberman's arctic
is one-buckle and two-buckle, water-proof to the top,
and inside he wears thick felt boots, about three
dollars a dozen, and he keeps a lot of these drying
while one or two pair get wet in the day's work.
These felt inner boots are snow-proof and warm
and do not get wet unless slush must be waded in
above the top of the arctics. In the general run of
work one will get along all day with warm, dry feet
and there is no constant greasing needed as with
leather mocs, larrigans, and *^ shanks."
Finally, snow-shoes. You want the bear-paw for
firm, wet snows in wooded country; for open work
in dry, drifting snows the standard type, 48 to 54
inches long by 13 to 15 inches wide, bows of black
ash, coarse, flat filling of caribou-skin lacing. The
Cree three-bar shoe, 60 inches long, owes its type
to the fine, powdery snows often encountered in the
far north. It has fine filHng and large toe sharply
bent up so as to stand considerable sinkage. As an
exact opposite may be instanced the Adirondack
type for heavy, wet snow, coarse filling, heel and toe
open; length, 42 inches.
CHAPTER XIV
CAMP COMFORTS
ONE of the hall-marks of the veteran woods-
man is the way he contrives to make himself
comfortable in camp, mainly by utilization of the
forest materials ready to hand. He has gotten past
the stage of unnecessary roughing it, knowing well
that the hardships of the hunting trail will be quite
enough without imposing any additional burdens
in camp. Doctor Hornaday, than whom there is
no more experienced wilderness traveller, has small
patience with the man of harrowing experiences
afield or with the novelist who builds his themes
upon the sufferings supposedly inevitable in the
waste spots of the earth. These who so suffer
simply do not know the game, are inadequately
supplied with either equipment or knowledge, or
both, and richly deserve all the misfortunes that
befall them or are heaped upon them by the malig-
nant novelist. He, and many another veteran ex-
plorer, has proved in his own person the truth of
his argument; any man who can and did make the
Pinacate trip virtually without a harrowing incident
235
236 CAMP CRAFT
or can spend two years in the Malayan jungles
without serious misfortune surely is entitled to
speak strongly on the subject. Doctor Wallace,
the EngUsh naturalist, spent eight years in the
Malay Archipelago, living in the open the entire
time, also with no incidents of battle, murder, and
sudden death to relate.
As in the game of life, it is attention to the little
things that counts, the savoir-faire that enables a
man to guard himself, seemingly without effort,
against the petty annoyances which the wilderness
sets over against him for a pitfall and a gin. This
body of ours has certain needs which intrude them-
selves upon our consciousness at regular intervals
and give us distress until satisfied. It must be fed,
couched in a comfortable nest at night, and washed,
shaved, and curried periodically, besides which it
demands a change of position occasionally, ob-
jecting decidedly to the standing position all the
time; and it is annoyingly vulnerable to insect
attack.
Nature has provided no comforts at all, and she
launches her armies of insect life or her legions of
chilly particles of air and water against the poor
body without respite and without pity. The veteran
woodsman automatically puts up screens against
any and all these annoyances with the same skill
with which he follows the faint game track. Com-
CAMP COMFORTS 237
fortable sleeping, comfortable eating, comfortable
cooking, and comfortable washing are his without
fail, for he knows the necessity of guarding the body
against the fret and wear of minor hardships.
Comfortable eating is the feature most often
neglected by the tyro. To grab a plateful of food
and squat down somewhere not out of range of the
acrid smoke of the camp-fire seems to him all right
and part of the fun. So it is, for the first day or so
maybe, but it soon palls. The necessity of an eating-
table of some sort has been given much study by
veteran outfitters, so important is it in the long run.
For the permanent camp the log and plank tables
shown in our illustrations solve the problem amply
and, with a log bench on each side, make for com-
fortable, happy meals. The right height for a table
with benches is 30 inches (the length of your gun
barrels), and the height of the bench is 18 inches,
from soles of feet to just below the kneecap. If the
meal is eaten standing, 40 inches is a better height
for the table. A mere plank, or two logs side by side
and packed in with pebbles to form a level surface,
will make a very comfortable table for four men and
will not take over an hour's time with the belt-axe
for some ambitious member of the party. A four-
log table, also gravel-filled, will take a setting for
eight, the logs being 4 inches in diameter by 6 feet
long, and a light fly over it makes eating in rainy
238 CAMP CRAFT
weather possible without bringing the food into the
tents. But what of the nomadic camps, such as
on a down-stream canoe trip where no stop is made
long enough to warrant any extensive construction ?
For this the outfitters have gotten up a wooden
suitcase, made of the hardest and toughest veneers,
light and strong and rendered water-proof by a
rubber gasket running around the joint between
the faces. Such a suitcase will be 5 inches deep by
30 by 16 in area and holds all the smaller provisions
or sometimes a complete aluminum cook-kit of pots
of the right height to fit inside it. When making
camp, four stakes are cut and driven in the ground,
the suitcase opened out flat, and at once you have
a table 30 x 32 inches useful as a cooking-table and
bread-board while preparing the evening meal and
later for setting the aluminum table-service upon.
The care and stowage of provisions is another
matter apt to wear and abrade upon the chef's men-
tal economy unless automatically met by various
little woodsman's dodges. Mice, squirrels, and
porcupines love to get into a provision cache left
unprotected while the party is away on the day's
pursuit of game and fish. Also ants, which will
march in regiments upon all foodstuffs left in their
reach. Two devices for thwarting them are shown
herewith, one used by the writer and the other by
Lieutenant Townsend Whelen. Mine is a light
CAMP COMFORTS 239
maple crate which holds all the provisions when
in some camp that can be reached by boat, canoe,
or automobile. Turned on its side and swung by
two stout cords from a pole nailed across two tfees,
it makes an insect and animal proof storehouse, as
shown, and at night a light oiled tarp is tied over it.
The folding cupboards sold by the outfitters serve
the same purpose admirably, but are not good to
pack in. Three flat boards 8 x 16 inches in size are
enclosed on three sides by canvas walls and back
tacked to them and, when hung up by the top board,
drop down to form a three-shelf cupboard. The
device is easily made at home by any enthusiast who
has the time and the inclination.
Lieutenant Whelen's camp cupboard is shown
next. A cross-pole laid between two trees on jutting
stubs holds the straps of his knapsack and canteen,
thereby hanging provisions and valuables out of
harm's way and handy to get at. A woodsman's
pothook, made of a forked stick with a nail in the
lower end, is to be noted over the camp-fire. The
point not to be overlooked in these rigs is the
necessity for order and completeness in the woods.
Things thrown about or left about in the leaves get
lost much more easily than in any house and are
impossible to replace. I will never forget the loss
of a humble fork once from our kit in Montana.
There were four forks and four hunters. About the
240 CAMP CRAFT
eighteenth day out one of the forks turned up miss-
ing. Some one had to go without or wait his turn
at the steak, and there was almost a row over who
should be the man. However, I whittled a hard-
wood fork that answered during the rest of the trip
and which was duly washed and carried along each
day with the rest of the outfit. All small articles
must have a place and be in their place when camp
is struck, or one by one they will unaccountably dis-
appear and their loss not be discovered until many
arduous miles lie between you and the lost article.
For carrying provisions and culinary utensils,
table-service, etc., it is hard to improve upon the
side-opening food-packs described before in these
pages. Two detail photographs are shown, giving
some idea of what these bags look like, open and
rolled up, and also of the paraffined muslin food-
bags that go inside of them. Note the khaki pockets
sewn to the back of the bag, in which are to be put
the knives, forks, spoons, pepper, salt, and celery
shakers, dish mops and towels, soap, can-opener,
cooking-gloves, and pothooks for the trip. When
these bags are rolled up, a glance into these pockets
will show at once if anything is missing, and then
is the time to look for it. When cooking, the muslin
food-bags lie side by side in the packs, easily found,
and, what is more important, easily replaced, so
that they can be found again. That is where this
CAMP COMFORTS 241
pack is superior to the ordinary end-opening war-
bag. On laying out the outland kitchen the chef
hangs up one or more of the side-opening bags by
the stout hickory rods which are sewed into one
Hp of each bag and provided with a grommet hole
at either end of the seam for that very purpose.
Two stakes driven in near the cooking-fire serve
to hold up the pack with its side hanging open to
the hand. As fast as the provisions are used the
food-bags are chucked back into the pack, and from
it also are taken the table-service utensils when
needed. At night the bag is closed up by its straps
and is then water-proof and animal-proof. Even
in the case of an upset the provisions will come by
no harm, for the rolling up of the two lips around
the*wooden rod makes a seal quite as tight as the
pucker string of the ordinary tump-bag. The large
cans shown in the second illustration have friction
tops and will hold pork, bacon, and butter; some
4 pounds* weight in the shallow cans and 8 in
the deep one. To pack the bag, stand it on end
with a single paraffined bag on the bottom; next a
large can, then the other bags one atop the other;
finally the two shallow tins, and then squeeze in a
musHn bag for a buffer between them and the end
of the pack. The normal diameter of both bags and
tins is 8 inches, and the musHn bags assume a
thinner or thicker depth with the same diameter,
242 CAMP CRAFT
depending upon how much provisions are carried.
I have taken provisions for a party of eight for two
weeks in two of these side-opening grub-bags, each
weighing 40 pounds.
One of the handiest kinks I ever saw in the way
of camp comforts was a combined eating, cooking,
and sleeping camp, made of a canoe and two 6x12-
feet green silk shelter cloths. When camping time
came, the canoe was hauled out and carried up to
the camp site, where it was turned on its side and
hoisted up so that it could be lashed to two trees
with its lower gunwale about 3 feet from the ground.
The two shelter cloths were next pegged down to
the ground behind the canoe, overlapping each other
somewhat, led over the back of the canoe and for-
ward over the space in front, where they were guyed
out with poles and guy-ropes led down to pegs in
the ground. In front of the canoe, under the shelter,
were then driven four stakes, upon which a wooden
suitcase was spread out bottom up, making a table,
and the fire was located just in front of the edge of
the shelter cloth. All the food-bags, cooking-pots,
etc., were spread in a row along the bottom gunwale
inside of the canoe, which formed a most excellent
shelf; and then bread-making, and food preparation
went ahead merrily under shelter in spite of a rain
outside. When the meal was over the suitcase was
lifted off out of the way, its stakes pulled up, and the
SIDE-OPENING FOOD PACKS OPENED AND ROLLED UP.
SOME OF THE PROVISION SACKS AND FRICTION-TOP CANS FOR BUTTER
AND PORK.
CAMP COMFORTS 243
party gathered under the shelter cloth before the
bright camp-fire blaze. After a while the sleeping-
bags were rolled out, their pillows coming under the
canoe up against the shelter cloth at the rear, and
there was ample room for five men to sleep in a row.
The two shelter cloths weighed 2^ pounds each, and
the canoe, which held all the provisions, duffel, and
cooking utensils up out of harm's way, being part
of the scenery, could not legitimately be charged as
weight at all. In other words, on a weight of 5
pounds this idea provided a cooking, eating, and
sleeping shelter for five men.
In making oneself comfortable for the night a
number of comforts are attended to by the seasoned
camper as a matter of course, nor will he go to bed
satisfied until they are to his mind. There is plenty
of time to make oneself a suitable sleeping-place
in the hours between finishing with supper and
bedtime, and one sign of the inexperienced man is
his anxiety to attend to his sleeping quarters about
sunset when he ought to be helping the others in
preparing supper or else cutting night fire-wood, for
no axe work should be done in the dark. All this
out of the way, however, and the dishes washed and
set aside, the veteran will roll out his sleeping-rig
and see to it that it is comfortable before retiring.
The subject of sleeping-bags has been thoroughly
treated in these pages before, and will not be gone
244 CAMP CRAFT
into here, merely adding here a few cautions such
as to see that the bed site is level ground, particularly
in the side-to-side direction, for sleeping sideways
on a slope is one of the impossibilities of the out-
doors. If using a very thin mattress, such as a skin
or quilt, see that suitable hollows for hips and shoul-
ders are scooped in the dufF and filled with dry
leaves, your aim being to distribute the area of your
body as evenly as possible, so that all of it may be
supported and not have the whole weight concen-
trated on hips and shoulders. And arrange some sort
of windbreak, made of any available cloth or duffel-
bag, so that the prevailing wind will not sweep over
you at night. Outside of water-proof gabardine or
silk I know of no weave that will not let night winds
creep in and steal away by conduction the bodily heat
that you depend upon for night warmth. Cautions
about sleeping with too many clothes on seem al-
most superfluous, yet men will go to bed of a cold
night with so much clothing on them as to cause
uncomfortable sleeping and be colder in the end
than if without them, due to the hampering of free
circulation during the sleeping hours. Better put
these extra things on outside the bag and under the
dew cloth, reserving only a few soft undergarments
for night wear. A pair of warm, dry socks and wool
sleeping-slippers are almost a necessity in freezing
weather, for one's feet are not constructed so as to
CAMP COMFORTS 245
resist much cold, and the chilly, cavernous lower
regions of the sleeping-bag do not seem to help
much either. At the upper end attention will have
to be paid to details also. Man cannot sleep in
temperatures below freezing with his head outside
the bag without a night-cap, and if he pulls the flaps
of the bag high enough to cover his head he does not
get enough outside air for breathing purposes. A
wool skull-cap or night-cap solves the difficulty
and is one those little things that are not overlooked
or made Hght of by the veteran. In the same cate-
gory is the pillow. Without it some men, partic-
ularly if of high-strung mentality, cannot get along.
One does not have to pack anything of any size;
a mere pad will do, so that it has a fine, smooth
surface and a soft feather or wool interior. It is
intended to cap the pile of dufFel and spare clothes
that you will build up at the head of your sleeping-
bag to raise your head to the level which suits you
personally when sleeping. On this your head can
lie serene with the small pillow under cheek, even
if the lower components of the pile include such
lumpy commodities as a pair of leather hunting-
boots stuffed with leaves.
All these little night comforts, besides your toilet-
kit, must go somewhere, in a water-tight bag or a
dry poke, so that all of them will be in one place
and not scattered through your duffel when wanted.
246 CAMP CRAFT
Perhaps as good a receptacle as comes for the pur-
pose is the kit roll, about i6 inches long by 8 inches
wide when opened out flat, and which is provided
with rows of pockets to hold soap, shaving tackle,
comb, and brush, night-cap, night socks and slippers,
looking-glass, tooth-brush, mending-kit, etc. This
is hung up on two stakes alongside your sleeping-
bag, and then each article is handy and there is a
place for every one of them when you get up in the
morning. As you divest yourself of knife, watch,
compass, pipe, bandanna, belt, tobacco-pouch, elec-
tric flasher, and the Hke, on retiring, these go into
the pockets lately occupied by the night outfit, and
atop of one of the stakes is just the place to swing
the carbide lamp by its pointed hook. When pack-
ing the kit up in the morning the pillow is folded
flat and laid lengthwise across the roll; an inspec-
tion shows that all the articles are in their accustomed
pockets, and the kit is then rolled up around the pil-
low and tied with its tapes.
On dressing in the morning, after one's hunting-
boots have been softened up and put on, the first
thing wanted is a good wash; and the thing to do
it with is hot water, poets and amateur campers to
the contrary notwithstanding. A very little out of
the cook's big boiling water-pail will make an aston-
ishing quantity of water as hot as your face can
bear, and so you sidle up to him with your folding
CAMP COMFORTS 247
canvas wash-basin already part full of cold water
and get a dipperful. Somewhere at the bottom of
your tump-pack, or flat in your knapsack should be
a small, 12-inch canvas basin of this type. It folds
down flat as the proverbial pancake, and opens up
to about 3 inches high, and it's one of those little
comforts weighing an ounce or so that will repay
its weight by keeping you looking fresh and well
and feeling so, too.
Along after dark in camp, another bodily infirmity
makes its presence known, the inability to see things
in the dark (and especially to find a lost belt-axe
or salt-shaker). No man in the party should be
without his own light-producing apparatus; car-
bide lamp, candle lantern, or electric flasher. The
camp-fire and one or two carbides will just about
supply enough working light for the cooks and fire-
men; meanwhile you have your share of the work
to do, to get water or go skirmishing for dead trees
in the dark and should have your own lantern.
Personally I am never without both a flasher and
a small carbide, the latter usually loaned for general
illumination as soon as it can be filled and lit. Our
illustration shows one of the types of candle lan-
terns, very popular for individual and tent lighting.
It collapses flat in your pack and takes very little
space and weight — 9 ounces — and it has the ad-
vantage of being always ready to light and can be
248 CAMP CRAFT
put out in a second, which the carbide cannot, so
that one is loath to Hght the latter merely for
some private errand of short duration, but rather
it is held until after nightfall, when it is lit for its
run of three hours and is then at the service of
the whole party except when you need to borrow
it for private purposes. Neither it nor the candle
lantern can be blown out by any ordinary breeze,
so that they are reliable and serviceable in rain,
snow, storm, or almost any weather conditions that
obtain in the wilderness. The electric flasher is
no doubt the handiest individual light of them all.
Carried in your pocket after nightfall, it gives a
strong light, always available on the instant, and is
a great convenience for finding things in the dark,
reading the compass when night travelling, finding
tools and trees in the woods, and looking over every-
thing at night before turning in. In getting one,
see that its button is of the sHding variety; other-
wise it will quite likely set itself going in your
pocket, using up the good current for no available
purpose. The button should also stay put at will,
for there will be times when you may want to set
the light down and use both hands for a consider-
able period of time.
In mild weather, from early spring to late fall,
the dusk and the early morning are the grand display
periods for insect life. Mosquitoes, no-see-ums, and
CAMP COMFORTS 249
black-flies hover about in countless thousands, and
woe betide him who has no protection against them !
The ten-cent brown cotton camping-gloves, worn
when cooking or paddling, will render your hands
immune from their attacks, and a light head-net is
the only really comfortable defense for your face.
Oil of citronella carried in a nickel screw-top oil-can
and sprinkled on the net front will keep them from
lighting on it and singing you to death, while the
net itself, if of the kind that straps securely to your
shoulders, will hold them at bay from doing you
personal violence. The net is a light and easily stowed
comfort, and one will not leave his behind, nor two
of them if on a long trip, after one encounter with
the ungodly, unprotected except by fly smears and
"dopes."
In permanent camps, a quantity of light, easily
packed and transported camp furniture will be worth
the owning, particularly if the stay is to be a long
one, for it is the little comforts in the long run which
decide whether such camping can be called a failure
or a pleasurable experience. Such conveniences as
folding chairs, cots, tables, bureaus, tent clothes-
hooks, etc., are utterly out of place in travel camps
into good game and fishing country, but they have
their place in tenting beside some lake where the
fishing is good, and where a team is to bring in the
whole establishment and the party is to spend an
250 CAMP CRAFT
entire vacation in one spot. In such camping one
should not scorn these Hght and easily transported
articles but get together the needful equipment of
them, for it cannot be too much emphasized that
they will contribute manifold to the enjoyment of
such a camp. Take what your transportation
facilities will permit, and don't listen to the man
who laughs because up in the Maine woods no one
but tenderfeet use these things ! So they do — the
blessed innocents — but it is because of ignorance of
what can and cannot be carried in the wilderness
rather than because of any intrinsic lack of merit
in the articles themselves.
CHAPTER XV
^ CAMP ORGANIZATION
ESSENTIALLY a camp consists of a group of
tents, a fire, and a fat man for chef. The rest
do not count — as essentials. But, even with the
above, and of .extra-fine quahty, the camp may be a
sorrowful memory unless a certain amount of organi-
zation, of routine, is agreed upon and lived up to.
I have known camps where the star hunter blandly
laid him down on the browse that others had picked,
and informed all and sundry that, as he knew
nothing whatever of fires or cooking, his job forth-
with would be to keep the camp in game ! Where-
upon the fisherman, taking his cue, declared that he
would attend to the fish market, and the naturalist,
following suit, arose to remark that cooking and
dish-washing was no gentleman's job, and that he
would attend strictly to the fruit supply. Just at
this juncture the cook appeared in the doorway with
the camp-bench poised above his head, vociferat-
ing that, by the devil's caldron, if all three of them
didn't dig out and rustle fire-wood, slick up the camp,
and clean all the pots and pans in less than two
251
252 CAMP CRAFT
minutes, he would beat them all as flat as so many
Shrovetide-pancakes !
It was lucky that the cook was a large, fat man
with a choleric blue eye, for too often the chef is
only a little, measly, mild-mannered individual, whose
only reason for going into the woods is an abiding
love of outdoor life, and so the others impose on his
good nature, forgetting that he may be as keen a
hunter and as ardent a fisherman as any of the rest.
There should be a separate job for each of the party,
and the more onerous ones, such as washing dishes,
should be taken in turn. If the party is of the right
sort of woodsmen, no one wants to shirk, and each
will naturally choose the duty that suits him best.
For instance, there will always be one who loves an
axe almost as much as his rifle. The very exercise
is a joy to him, and the play of the axe muscles eases
all his joints with a satisfaction that he has waited
all the year in the city for. He prides himself in
being able to split a hair, to chop a cut like fine
joiner work, to lay a tree to a plumb-line; let him
have the night wood and the cook-fire wood ex-
clusively under his charge.
Then there will always be some brother whose
sense of order is so inborn that it gives him the
fidgets to see anything at sixes and sevens — his
shall be the job of keeping the camp slicked up,
bedding aired, sinks dug, spring-houses constructed,
CAMP ORGANIZATION 253
mess-table built, and dozens of other camp comforts
attended to. The naturalist just naturally takes over
the care of water-supply from the spring, berries from
the patch over on the shoulder of the mountain,
watercress out of the brook, mushrooms from the
fields. And all three of them take the dish-pan job
in rotation.
And then, there is Monsieur Le Chef de Cuisine.
On him depend the health and good spirits of the
9 party. There is positively nothing wonderful about
cooking, but your really good cooks are neither born
nor made, but spring, fully educated, from the loins
of Lucullus himself. Any fellow that likes chemical
experiments or has a hankering for manufacturing
processes from the raw minerals of the earth will
make a good cook. It is nothing but a chemical
reaction — so much heat applied for so long a time,
and you have the result. And the combinations
and blends are endless. Every woodsman should
know how to prepare everything that his rod and
gun get him and how to use the simplest herbs and
plants of the forest. But the man in whom the
study of food preparation is a yearning and an art,
a consuming interest, is the one who naturally steps
forward to be cook.
To perform the chemical operation aforesaid
requires the application of just the right heat for
just the right time. Therefore, it is impossible for
254 CAMP CRAFT
the cook to get results In the open if he has to leave
his job continually to rustle fire-wood or water.
These must be right at his elbow, and the other mem-
bers of the party must put them there, as getting the
meals takes a lot of the cook's time, and no man in
the party should have to take any more time than
any one else away from the pursuits of the sports
that all came into the woods to enjoy. Neither
should he wash dishes or set the table. Once the
meal is cooked and served, the chefs work is done,
and he should be allowed to return to his pipe in
peace.
It is the most delightful fun in the world for a
party of four to live in the virgin forest beside some
sheet of fishy water and draw from Nature alone
all the comforts and variety of Hfe that the most
exquisite civilization can afford. Any camp that is
suffering from monotony of diet doesn't know the
game thoroughly, for, even within fifty miles of New
York City there are hundreds of camping grounds
that will give endless variety of diet and sport. The
ideal loafers' camp misses the trout, as it must be
in September to get warmth and yet get the cream
of both hunting and fishing. One still has bass,
pickerel, perch, sunfish, snipe, woodcock, squirrel,
'coon, woodchuck, possum; crabs, oysters, and clams
(if near salt-water); and one can go a-frogging, bob-
bing for eels, catting by jack-lantern, "'cooning in
CAMP ORGANIZATION 255
de dark ob de moon"; berries are in profusion, and,
if there is a cornfield in twenty mile, "dar is sweet
co'n an' melons."
Let us glance over the layout of such a camp for
a party of four. To begin with the tents: I never
cared much for any of the wall-tents and A-tents
for a party to herd in except under special conditions,
such as mountain work. One is too crowded. There
is too much strain on the give-and-take requirements
of one's good behavior for it to last long without
quarrels. Four big, husky men crowded into a 12 x
16-foot army-tent are pretty sure to step on one an-
other's toes before long. And then, to pack the thing
means heavy penitential labor for one or two of the
party, as it cannot be divided between them. If the
camp is on water somewhere, as all camps worthy of
the name must be, it is best reached by canoes, and a
large tent is a dangerous and heavy burden to paddle
in any canoe. The camp becomes much more cosey
and homelike, more like a little community, if there
are three or four small tents, all fronting on the night
fire. I was driven to devise the "Forester Tent,"
first described in Field and Stream in "Camp Fires
of an Epicure," nine years ago to meet this require-
ment. It will sleep two very comfortably, and three
of them, pitched around the night fire on three sides
of a square, form quite a settlement. One can then
chum in with his particular Fidus Achates; and hu-
256 CAMP CRAFT
man nature is always such that in any camp there
is somewhat more affinity between some members
than others. They naturally hunt in pairs according
to temperament. In effect, it gives each man a room
to himself, and, as these tents only weigh 5 pounds,
they are easily transported and divided about the
party. For a camp lasting all summer I prefer some
sort of a shack or bungalow, in which permanent
comforts can be built, to any form of tent, but for
a camp of from one to three weeks the little open
tents are ideal.
The Orderly Man will have them all in tow. Every
man likes neatness and comfort, but few will take
the trouble to keep their nest trig and shipshape.
Let brother Orderly police the whole encampment.
That's his job. He hangs out every man*s blankets,
sweeps up all the camp enclosure, sets all the tents
to rights, turns over all the browse and makes up
all the beds; his pride being that the entire camp
looks eternally like a new pin. This done, let him
take to his favorite rod and enjoy himself the rest of
the day.
The Man with the Axe comes next in line. To
begin with the night-fire: I've tried all kinds, and
the one described by old Nessmuk in "Woodcraft"
is the finest of them all. It gives you a cheerful
blaze all night long, and the heat is thrown directly
into the tents so that the night chill is driven out
CAMP ORGANIZATION 257
and one sleeps like a dormouse. To make it you
first cut two stout beech stakes about 3 inches thick
and 4 feet long. Drive them a foot into the ground,
slanting slightly backward. Next get out six 6-inch
logs of beech, red maple, black oak, or green pine,
THE "NESSMUK" NIGHT FIRE.
each about 4 feet long, and pile them up one on top
of the other against the stakes. They are called
the "backlogs," and their function is to head off
the heat that would otherwise be dissipated into the
forest and to reflect it into the tents. The logs for it
are cut of green wood, so that they will not burn
out too quickly. Next you need two more green
6-inch logs, about 3 feet long, for andirons. These
are laid running out toward the tent from the back-
logs, about 2 feet apart and staked in place. Across
258 CAMP CRAFT
them at the extreme front goes another green log,
about a 4-inch, called the "forestick." A rough
grid of small green sticks is laid in between it and
the backlogs and a pyramid of chips and fagots
built on them, topping off with short 4 and 5 inch
dry timber logs of chestnut, birch, maple, and elm.
The conflagration is touched off just at dark, and
you at once get a blaze 6 feet high that will last till
turning-in time. Twenty 4-inch logs and a quantity
of fagots will last this fire during the night. Put
on seven or eight when the crowd turns in, at 1 1 p. m.
About I A. M. some cold-frog is sure to wake up,
rake together the glowing embers and pile on more
fagots and six or seven more logs. As soon as the
warmth of the blaze strikes him he dozes off. Along
about 4 A. M., when the early squirrels are racing
about the woods and the chorus of the birds is in
full blast, some light sleeper will turn out and re-
organize the tumbled-down backlogs and put on all
the rest of the night logs. By six or seven in the
morning, when the whole camp turns out, the fire
will again be a mass of glowing embers and in beau-
tiful shape for breakfast culinary operations. The
last two of the backlogs are laid side by side across
the andirons, which are still in the game, and on
them are set the coffee-pot, frying-pan, flapjack-
skillet, and anything else the chef's soul may elect.
If he is a real fat chef he will have buried some
CAMP ORGANIZATION 259
'taters in a hole in the ground under the forestick
the night before, so that all he has to do is to go
a-grubbing to have hot roasted potatoes for break-
fast with the fried work.
It is now high time that the water department
got in some good "licks." There is a plenty of pails
WOODLAND COOKING RANGE.
of fresh, clear spring-water wanted at once, and he
should not have to be told. Furthermore, there is
no greater pleasure than an early-morning picking
at the berry patch in the fresh, smoky dew or a
trip along the trail beside the brook down to the
little swamp where the brook pauses awhile to allow
a patch of cress to take root.
After breakfast it is the orderly man's turn to
show what he can do. He should be a confirmed
and an habitual potterer, a man who is happiest
when he has taken half the morning to get that d — n
pipe lighted and is fooling away the other half
26o CAMP CRAFT
making a new camp-broom out of huckleberry
switches. He gets out all the blankets, hangs them
in the sun on the camp clothes-line, sweeps them
all clean of browse litter with the huckleberry broom,
rigs up a cupboard of the chefs soap-box (which
he fills full of doodle-bugs, just to show that there
is no hard feeling), constructs a camp-lavatory
between two trees by nailing two parallel saplings
on each side of the trees, on which the basins can be
set in a row, and finally dodders ofF to the lake,
where he gets out a line and hopes the fish will not
interrupt his reading from Tennyson. The best one
I ever camped with neither fished nor hunted. He
was obsessed with one of those interminable novels
of Victor Hugo's at the time, and invariably pro-
duced the cherished volume from some hidden recess
in his blouse the moment his cork was out on the
water. At periodic intervals he would be waked up
with the yell: "Eber, where in the devil is your
cork r^ and the whole boat would take a day oflF to
unsnarl his tackle from the roots and stumps around
which the fish had wound it.
And the fourth is D'Artagnan — le chef! To begin
with, he must be a poet and an artist — and, further-
more, he must know how to cook. There is nothing
to it. More good jobs are spoiled by too much fire
than anything else. It is the application to the
utensil of the heat that proves the master. You
CAMP ORGANIZATION 261
can't cook by shaking up a heap of fagots and wig-
gling pots and pans onto them the minute a few
feeble flames begin to show up. For dinner and
supper you want a good range, and the best wood-
land one I know of is two green logs laid side by
side and staked in place, being held a few inches
above the ground by two short cross-logs under their
ends. Tyros always lay the logs flat on the ground
and then wonder why the fire is always feeble, or
else too vigorous. There is no way for the air to get
at the fire from underneath. Set the two logs on
two short ones and the range will steam like a major.
For breakfast this chef usually takes the ruins of
the night fire, because one already has a bed of
sizzling-hot and well-behaved embers to start with.
Coff*ee simply needs a grab of it to each cupful of
water you put into the coffee-pot, with one extra, to
allow for evaporation. The French have a very
handy percolator, a two-storied affair in which a
cupful of grounds is put in the strainer and you
simply pour on boiling water, which takes five or
ten minutes to percolate through, and the clear
coffee settles in the pot below. One can't pack such
a contrivance into the blessed woods, however, as
the duffel law should always be "agin it"; so the
old-fashioned way is best. Let her boil up once,
putting out all the fire for miles around, and then
set it 'way off on the edge of the coals to simmer till
262 CAMP CRAFT
wanted. Settle with a dash of cold spring-water
before serving. As a moUifiant, nothing beats con-
densed milk in the woods — except condensed cream.
For fish and the smaller game-birds the frying-pan
is the thing. Here the sin of too much fire scorches
many a good breakfast. It takes not much less
than twenty minutes' application of heat to cook
either fish or birds, and your problem is how to
apply the heat to the frying-pan for that length
of time without scorching the skin of the brute.
By far the best fat is bacon drippings, and, as bacon
is one of the breakfast mainstays, there should never
be any dearth of drippings. If there is, you are
having too much fried work and every one will get
bilious. The ideal way to do a mess of fish is, first,
to fry a chip of bacon for every man at the table.
Turn them the instant they are brownish white and
fish out as soon as the other side becomes brown,
which will be in three or four minutes for the whole
operation. In the pan will be left delicious bacon
fat. Roll the fish in corn-meal and fry slowly for
fifteen minutes, or until the flesh gets white and
firm to the fork. Then whoop up the fire and brown
both sides. Serve with a chip of bacon on the side
and a garnish of watercress.
The same regimen is followed in doing fried potatoes,
either sliced or stripped, but never have fried potatoes
at the same time as fried fish or meat. Better make
CAMP ORGANIZATION 263
it baked or boiled with their jackets on. If you
have milk, cut them into cubes and boil fifteen
minutes, pour ofF the liquor for soup-stock, boil five
minutes in milk with a thumb of butter, and serve
as creamed potatoes. Don't try it with condensed
milk, but evaporated cream will do admirably.
I seldom have cereals with a camp breakfast.
A "JORESTER" ENCAMPMENT.
because of the milk nuisance, but if same is handy
and ye fretful cow inhabiteth the berry pasture,
why, then one can have either oatmeal, cream of
wheat, force, or any of the numerous cereal prep-
arations on the market. But it is really necessary
to have fruit, unless you want a steady prune diet
for dessert, and there is no reason, with the woods
full of huckleberries, blackberries, and lazy men, why
the one shouldn't collect the other. As a variant
on the potato, both rice and hominy are excellent.
Both take about thirty-five minutes to cook and
need plenty of water, as they wax amazingly as
264 CAMP CRAFT
they cook, and should be given a stir every now
and then, as they are prone to stick to the bottom of
the pot and scorch. Nor should they have too
fierce a fire. In all these cooking operations the chef
should insist on having only legitimate cooking
wood for his fire. Reject all pine and hemlock
sticks that may be offered, or else everything will
taste of tannin and creosote. You want sticks of
oak, beech, chestnut, and maple for ordinary cooking,
and birch, cherry, beech, and rock-maple for all
broiling operations.
For bread substitutes the best I know are pan-
cakes, hardtack and club bread. For the first there
are plenty of good old "Varginny" pancake flours
that simply require the addition of water to make a
nice batter; the second is delicious when toasted
before the fire to restore its original crispness, and
its staying power is wonderful; the last is some-
what more complicated and has for its first step
cutting down a healthy young black birch about
3 inches thick. This you peel and set up slanting
over the fire, where it will get as hot as the Lid.
Around it you wind a thin strip of dough made from
self-raising flour according to directions or else from
ordinary flour with a teaspoonful of baking-powder.
Turn the club occasionally and keep up a hot fire
with birch and cherry fagots. You will soon have
biscuits equal to any in mother^s oven.
CAMP ORGANIZATION 265
For dinners, with the long range there is plenty
of time and room to cut a few pigeon wings. You
can broil, stew, and raise Cain generally. To broil,
take the fish, or snake, or bird, or animal, whatever
it is, slap flat with the hatchet, butter and salt all
over, shove it into the spider and on with it over a
roseate bed of embers on the range. Keep the tail
of your eye on it, while you boil one vegetable and
fry another to go with it. I always take a couple of
war-bags full of potatoes, beets, onions, carrots,
etc., when on non-nomadic camps. These will keep
throughout a long camp and work in for soups, stews,
fries, and boils. In fact, you must have them if the
camp is going to remain healthy and avoid canned
diets. Just pare them and boil them till tender.
That is all there is to it. Bubble in butter, or fry
in thin slices in bacon fat, to vary the prepara-
tion. Another staple that is a bully mainstay is
corn-meal. Stir into boiling salted water and boil
slowly until done. It is then corn mush and is the
base for dodgers, fried mush cakes, hoe cakes,
thickeners for this and that, and general stock.
Don't have coffee for dinner as well as breakfast.
Too much coffee is at the root of most of the bilious-
ness and general debility around most camps.
For supper a good gumbo soup, or "mulligan,"
is the one best bet. Get the kettle on about 5 P. M.
Pare the potatoes, three or four onions, a carrot or
266 CAMP CRAFT
two cut up into fine cubes, and little squares of meat.
Stir occasionally and salt to taste. By six o'clock it
will be the most appetizing thing you ever held your
nose over. Serve one quart to each man with bis-
cuits and strong tea, and stewed prunes, jello, or
fruit for dessert.
Mention of desserts brings me right to can, so
to speak. I let down the bars on canned pears,
apricots, and all their relatives, for they are all fine
and wholesome. If you can reach the camp by
canoe or buckboard, by all means take in a few cans
of fruit, peas, corn, spinach, and other winter staples.
But if on a travelling camp, where you have con-
siderable get-there to allow for, be sure that the packs
contain no cans, and rely on prunes, fresh berries,
and dried apricots, peaches, and apples that can be
carried in little canvas sacks.
A final word — on cleanliness. When the tyro
camper comes out of the woods his first dash is for
the tub, where he soaks out three or four weeks of
grime; his next is for the barber's, where a fuzzy
stubble is hoed off; and the last is to the haber-
dasher's, where he gets on him all the stiff chokers,
pink socks, and nobby ties that his purse will permit,
"to forget the backwoods."
He hasn't really camped, you know. He just
slid gracefully back to savagery because the well-
dressed city crowd was not present to shame him.
CAMP ORGANIZATION 267
Now, in camp one should be cleaner and nattier
than an3^where else. There is plenty of exercise to
keep the pores open, and one can bathe all day long
and get a fine, healthy coat of tan all over one's hide
without half trying. If there is a better or more
healthful summer-camp apparel than a good jersey
bathing-suit without any sleeves, I have yet to hear
of it. For strenuous work there is the gray flannel
shirt and the forestry suit and hunters' shoes. Set
one day a week for washing, have plenty of hot water,
and take along a small sack of washing-powder —
and mind that you do not try to make corn mush
with it !
In a word, cut out all dirt and petty annoyances
and live as nearly as you're accustomed to in your
own home as your brains and ingenuity will permit.
CHAPTER XVI
BUILD YOURSELF A PERMANENT CAMP
THERE are all sorts of camps, from the hasty
voyageur bivouac of the big-game hunter to
the serene summer retreat when one invites his soul
to ease in Nature's lotos-land — that "place where
it seemed always afternoon." Indeed, I think that
the quintessence of camping is reached when one
knows the game thoroughly enough to be able to
draw from Nature alone all the comforts that
civilization affords, in addition to the thousand joys
which no civilization can give. It is far easier to do
this than one would suppose, for the reason that
most of the drawbacks of camp-life come from neglect
of simple cleanliness and ordinary bodily comforts,
such as homo sapiens has become accustomed to
from his cradle.
The subject of camping is really so vast that it
cannot be even approached in a single article. It
strikes at the very roots of life. At its best it holds
up a mirror to us all, showing how far civilization
and overpopulation have combined to separate us
from the easy formula of life which the Creator in-
268
BUILD A PERMANENT CAMP 269
tended; how they have driven thousands to starva-
tion within a stone's throw of the fabulously rich,
whereas Nature gave every man the equal strength
of his own two hands, which were once ample to
win him liveHhood and happiness.
When one is hunting big game, or on a canoe trip,
or such nomadic camp-life, the less of everything
taken along the better. A good sleeping-bag is often
preferable to a tent; a single skillet will provide
the utensil to cook with; and rifle, axe, and knife
are really all the necessities that can be mentioned.
I even once went on a trip where I took nothing
along except a note-book and two sheets of blank
music-paper. A bully tramp over the mountains it
was, too, and I slept in piles of leaves raked up in
dry ravines that were already filled a solid foot
deep with dry leaves. In my shooting-coat pockets
were a Dutch wienerwurst, half a dozen hardtacks,
three potatoes, and a hunk of bacon. In the ditty-
bag, without which I never take any trip, were little
primer-boxes filled with butter, salt, tea, and sugar,
and there was also a variety of hooks and lines, a
steel 'possum hook, and a pickerel hook for frogging.
It was the only tramp in which I had no itinerary,
hadn't any idea of getting anywhere, and could stop
whenever and as long as I pleased. I think I was
all one afternoon going two miles around the flank of
one mountain, down into a ravine and up the brook
270 CAMP CRAFT
to the spring, where I camped for the night. I was
gone two days; bagged most of the species of trees
of the Middle States east of the Appalachians in the
note-book, and scrawled the music-sheets so full of
wriggly black notes that the publisher got cross-eyed
trying to read the copy. Such a camp-tramp can-
not last more than two days, or you are apt to spend
the night hugging a tree, while the rain deluges every-
thing throughout the woods.
For little light week-end camps or fishing trips
not lasting over ten days, I always take the little
"Forester" tent described before in these pages.
It is a cosey little forest home, no matter if it rains
one day or the whole ten; it can be set up anywhere
in less than ten minutes, and weighs only ^yi pounds.
I always face it to the northeast, because most
sudden thunder-squalls brew up from the southwest,
and the hot sun is also in that direction, so that the
tent gives a shady lounging-spot in its mouth where
it is always cool and homely. An ideal spot to load
shells, or mend tackle on lazy afternoons.
But the goal of camp-life is to arrange to spend
the whole summer out-of-doors, beside some favorite
lake or river. To most of us this must be somewhere
within commuting distance of some large city. To
a few it is given to be able to live thus in a good game
country, leaving the business cares for the winter
months. It is this kind of camp of which I wish
BUILD A PERMANENT CAMP 271
particularly to speak, for it is an ideal life. Every
morning the sun streaks through the trees, vivifying
all the delicious night scents with a warmth and
radiance that is pure joy to one who can spend his
waking hours breathing the rich forest air; every
night the moon makes pictures of lake and woods
that live and live in one's memory long after more
noted sights are forgotten; and every day that can
be stolen from the city is one more store of golden
hours for this, the most dehghtful of all plays.
No camp that is at all worthy of the name can be
far from some open sheet of water, and water usually
means plenty of bathing and bathing-suits, canoes,
sunburn, fishing-tackle, and absolute cleanliness —
blazing with health and wide-open pores. Even in
the hunting season there is still the bath, and then
the rub-down and the invigorating change into a
clean flannel hunting-shirt, corduroys, and canvas.
Keep in close touch with the water your camp is
located beside, brothers, and you will never fly to
the city for relief.
There is another brand of water, not so welcome
or healthful as that which one bathes in, canoes in,
and sails over, and whips for pickerel. I refer to
the variety that comes a-rearin' and a-tearin' out of
black, rolling clouds, along with enough wind to
last twenty summers; ripping up tent-pegs, sinking
boats, and wetting down everything not under
272 CAMP CRAFT
tarpaulins. This also numbers itself among the
petty annoyances that drive the long-stay camper
to the city, and the only way to beat him out in the
long run is to make the camp just as near permanent
as possible. If you can get a board floor, so much
A HUNTING-LODGE THAT CAN BE BROUGHT IN BY CANOE.
the better; but be very sure that none of the boards
reach out from under the walls of the tent so that
the water can follow them inside. The best way is
to rent your ground, or buy it outright, with as much
of the surrounding woods as you can afford, and buy
or build a small bungalow. If you have the homing
instinct you will get to love that little shack as you
do your boyhood town, and will put in all sorts of
spare hours and rainy days in improving it and
making it more comfortable. The cheapest and
BUILD A PERMANENT CAMP 273
easiest transported one that I know of is to take a
half-dozen rolls of ready roofing and some 2 x i-inch
hemlock joist into the woods with you, and build
the shack yourself. It is surprising how far into the
backwoods you can get with this load, given a couple
of canoes and a day or so's time. Pick out a pictur-
i" etvAiBSka
DETAIL OF ROOF AND PANELS.
esque site, where the outlook will be a pleasure for
many a serene hour to come, and back the shack up
against a rocky slope or steep turn of the mountain-
side with a southerly outlook. You will find that
the 8 or 10 feet back of the house, between it and
the wall, will soon grow into valuable **Hnter" and
may some day afford possibility of a field-stone chim-
ney, when you have the time and a canoe-load of
quicklime brought out from the clearings. The frame
panels will work out much as in the sketch. They
are of the width of the roofing, 36 inches, and 7 feet
274 CAMP CRAFT
high, diagonaled, as shown, to make them rigid, and
the roofing is nailed to the backs of them.
A floor space of 8 by 14 feet is ample for a bunga-
low of this kind, with a gambrel roof as shown in the
illustration. It will have a door in each end, a
window at each side; doors and windows made of
gauze tacked on the same framing as the main
panels, canvas awnings and porches over windows
and door, and a stone-and-concrete floor. To build
it complete you will have to bring out into the woods
six rolls of induroid or rubberoid roofing, costing
two and a half cents a square foot, 100 square feet
to the roll; 800 running feet of dressed No. i Southern
pine, soft maple or hemlock, ^ x 2>^ inches; 8 yards
of bobbinet or gauze, 5 yards of 8-ounce duck canvas,
and half a sack of Portland cement — not a very
heavy layout of either money or material, say,
twenty-five dollars all told, and yet it will give you a
start for a permanent bungalow that you can always
come back to with increasing affection. On ar-
riving at your site, the first thing to do is to pitch
your tents, select the very best site your ground
affords for the shack, clear a little space to make
panels in, and saw your pine up into the right lengths.
You will need twelve panels 7 feet by 36 inches for
the sides, and four panels 16 feet by 36 inches for
the roof. Get out the walls first. They are quickly
and strongly joined by driving in ^-inch corrugated
BUILD A PERMANENT CAMP 275
iron fasteners, which are driven across the joints
with a hammer, sinking them flush with the surface
of the wood. In this way the whole twelve can be
quickly and strongly knocked together. Tack the
roofing material to the backs of the panels as fast
as completed, as they are very wobbly and weak
sideways without the material. This latter is gray
in color, with a leathery surface, and in each roll
come the needful nails and cement for joints, tin
caps, etc. Space the nails about 3 inches and run
the cement ahead as you nail. The hardware for
this house will be two dozen stout iron hooks-and-
eyes for the corners, and two dozen 3-inch iron flat
hinges for doors, windows, and roof panels. Both
hinges and nails are best galvanized.
Having the twelve panels to hand, the next step
will be to nail a strip of pine 14 feet long to the top
and bottom of each four panels, making two sides
of four panels each, with a 2-foot window space in
the middle of each. In the same way the two ends
are assembled with strips of pine 8 feet long, nailed
to top and bottom of two panels with a 2-foot door
space in between. They are now ready to raise up, but
first a foundation must be prepared, and the simplest
one in the woods is made by driving in four 3-inch
stakes about 3 feet long around all four sides, having
two stakes at each corner. Saw them all off flat, to
a string run all around and levelled at, say, 8 inches
276 CAMP CRAFT
above the soil. On these the panels can be set up
and hooked at the corners, nails being driven down
through the foot strip into the posts. To make the
corners stanch and tight, three cleats should be
nailed to one of the panels, giving something for
the hooks to pull against. There will be cracks at
the corners and joints, and to protect these from the
weather and at the same time guard against the
inevitable warping of the joist in the weather, you
had best hunt up straight 4-inch spruce or cedar
saplings and flatten the backs true and set them up
in front of the cracks, securing the panels to them
with nails driven from the inside. The roof panels
come next, 16 feet long by approximately 36 inches
wide, a lap being left over as shown in the detail of
the roof-joints, so as to leave no place for the rain
to work in. There are twelve hinges, four at each
joint, and the frame is diagonaled as with the wall
panels. To get the roof on, lift it up on the walls,
raise the ridge, until about a foot of eave overhangs
at the sides, and nail light saplings to the ends to
hold the gambrel in its proper position while the
gable ends are measured and made. After putting
them in position, the saplings can be knocked away
and the weight of the roof allowed to come on the
gables. Hooks will be needed at the eaves to utihze
the top wall strip as a tie.
The doors are made just enough smaller than the
BUILD A PERMANENT CAMP 277
opening to permit a sill and lintel of hemlock to be
nailed in the doorway. They are covered on the
inside with gauze or bobbinet, tacked to the frames
with galvanized tacks. The windows are made in
the same fashion except that the lower 3 feet is
filled in with a solid panel of roofing material and a
similar piece let in up above to permit the window
to swing clear of the eaves. After swinging the door
and window awnings with "rustic" frames cut in
the woods, the house is ready for occupancy except
for the floor. It is worth while to take along a can
of the powder of some good cold-water paint, so as
to finish off the woodwork of the panels. This in
pure white gives excellent effects with the dark gray
roofing, and, though the paint has a discouraging
dirty-white appearance when first put on, it dries to
a fine, tough white which will not rub or wash off.
The easiest way to make a floor in the woods is
to choose some lazy afternoon when every one is tired
of fishing and floor the whole of the shack with flat
stones taken from the natural rock of the forest. Wash
this over with an inch of thin, watery grout, of eight
parts sand to one of cement, smoothing it with a
straight-edge and trowel while the other fellow pours
it from the pail. It will make a more durable, snake-
proof, and vermin-proof floor than split logs or dirt.
Though the 3 -foot window wainscot permits four
cots to be arranged along the sides of the shack, I
278 CAMP CRAFT
prefer to use this space for living-room, and sky the
beds Pullman-car fashion, just a little under the roof.
The easiest way to do it is to cut two straight
4-inch hemlocks, trim, and gain to posts set upright
from the floor to ceiling against the front and rear
walls. They thus make a sort of rustic inside door-
jamb, so do not take any useful room, while the
berths can be made in the space behind the 4-inch
log by tacking across lo-ounce duck with 20-ounce
galvanized iron tacks, spaced 3 inches apart. A
spreader is let in at the middle, thus making two
6-foot berths on a side. They are filled with several
inches of balsam browse and are then ready for the
sleeping-bags. The whole floor space is, by this
arrangement of sleeping accommodations, available
for living-room; canvas camp-chairs, log tables,
etc., can be put in and one has a comfortable loung-
ing and eating room (in bad weather).
Such a bungalow, of course, has no fire any more
than any summer cottage or seaside bungalow has,
but while a canvas tent seems to have a way of
getting cold after the sun goes down, the bungalow
will hold its heat so as never to have the damp chill
of the forest in it. It will be cold enough, however,
for October and November hunting trips, so one
should have in mind the construction of a stone-
chimney at the first leisure week's-end trip to it.
Take in a pail of quicklime and slack and mix a batch
BUILD A PERMANENT CAMP 279
of three-to-one mortar with the lake sand. Build
the chimney of forest stone so that its front face will
come about 9 inches from the rear wall of the shack
and fill in this space with logs and face with mortar.
The hearth should be 2 feet by 10 inches deep, and
the flue 8 inches square. The lintel over the hearth
should be a long, flat stone, projecting well out so as
to catch stray smoke, and the brow of it not over
3 feet from the hearth.
The principal use of such a woodland shack is in
the promotion of what Dr. Van Dyke has aptly
named "Days Off." Without it, many a holiday,
especially the combination ones occurring on Thurs-
day or Friday, when Saturday and Sunday are
thrown in for good measure, are wasted because
one feels more or less unprepared and disinclined
to break a new trail for so short a time. But if it
is merely a matter of packing some provisions and
the sleeping-kit, whistling up the "pups," and
taking a train to the nearest jumping-off place in the
vicinity of "Loafer's Glory," or whatever you have
named the shack, you will get out of it many a
pleasant little outing, each one a diamond point
in your memories.
The shack above described is only a unit. You
will find it too small for a family camp and only
really suitable as a hunting-lodge for yourself and
a couple of men friends. But combined in various
28o CAMP CRAFT
plans it offers possibilities for development into a
real all-summer home that are not to be despised.
For instance, presuming that you have been able
to select enough level ground on your property to
lay out a permanent summer home for three times
the shack size, it will be your pleasure to bring out
enough material for a duplicate shack. Place this
one facing the other and at a distance of 12 feet
away. On one side of the space between, build your
field-stone chimney. You now have between the
shacks space for a big lounging and living room,
a sort of open porch which will become the dining-
room and general assembly room of the camp, the
two shacks being the wings. This centre room does
not require anything like the protection against
the weather or the finish demanded by the two
wings. Logs or stone can be laid up for walls and
a roof thrown over, rising higher than the roofs of
the two wings and shedding its rain upon them.
This centre roof may be a tarpauHn brought out
from civilization and tacked taut over the log frame-
work, or it may be of ready roofing tacked on per-
manently and left there season after season.
One of the wings can now be made entirely for
sleeping purposes for the family, while the other
wing is the combined kitchen and cook's sleeping
quarters. The flooring is best in thin cement grout
over the foundation of laid-in stones, the only
BUILD A PERMANENT CAMP 281
material requiring to be brought in from civilization
being a few bags of Portland cement. Decorate
with antlers for gun racks arranged around the walls
and rustic furniture manufactured on the site. This
living-room soon becomes a very attractive summer
lounging-place. The rear end of it should close up
entirely on the chimney, all the light coming in from
the front side. It should have a large 3 -foot door
and two side windows.
Another improvement in the shack can be had
by bringing in non-rusting copper mosquito-netting
and frame this in the windows in place of the salt-
water type linen mosquito-netting originally used.
In the following season, if it is possible to float a
raft of tongued-and-grooved siding down the lake
to the camp site, there is no reason why the entire
interior of both wings should not be sheathed inside
with siding or wainscoating running from floor to
ceiling, leaving on the ready roofing outside for
protection from the weather. This stiff*ens up the
panels and takes out any bags which may have
accumulated, and also renders them stout, to re-
sist kicks and blows from the outside which some-
times, but rarely, might be perpetrated by some
mischievous tramp who may pass your shack in
the winter time. This same siding will be found
advantageous as a further support to the roof against
the sagging eff'ect of winter snows.
282 CAMP CRAFT
It has been claimed by some that ready roofing
is not at all durable, but my own experience with
it has been that, properly supported, it will last quite
as long as any other material, being tougher and
harder than most canvases or tarpaulins which are
used for roofing purposes. There are many ways
in which the roof panels can be stiffened in between
the braces, if one employs his ingenuity on the
materials already at hand in the forest. A good
lattice of stout, straight shoots gathered in the for-
est in any thicket of yellow birch, sassafras, young
hickories, and the like, can be worked in under the
roof, or strips of bark can be slipped in between the
frames and the roof to help stiffen it.
The beauty of making some sort of a beginning
for a forest home is that each year it gets better
and more serviceable as you return to it year after
year for your summer outing and keep on fixing and
improving it. It is one of the cheapest solutions of
the summer home and the perennial summer prob-
lem yet devised.
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