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THE SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN BOY
Or
The Camp at Willow Clump Island
by
A. RUSSELL BOND
[Illustration: Fun in Swimming.]
New York
Munn & Co., Publishers
1906
Copyright, 1905, by
Munn & Co., New York
Press of
The Kalkhoff Company
New York
PREFACE
All boys are nature lovers. Nothing appeals to them more than a summer
vacation in the woods where they can escape from the restraints of
civilization and live a life of freedom. Now, it may appear to be a
bit of presumption to attempt to advise the boy camper how to spend
his time. Surely the novelty of outdoor life, the fascinating charm of
his surroundings, will provide him plenty of entertainment.
But, after all, a camp generally affords but two major amusements,
hunting and fishing. These have been fully covered by a vast number of
books. However, there is another side of camp life, particularly in a
boys' camp, which has been very little dealt with, namely, the exercise
of one's ingenuity in creating out of the limited resources at hand such
devices and articles as will add to one's personal comfort and welfare.
It is, therefore, the aim of this book to suggest certain diversions of
this character for the boy camper which, aside from affording him plenty
of physical exercise, will also develop his mental faculties, and above
all stimulate that natural genius which is characteristic of every
typical American boy. To this end the story contains descriptions of a
large collection of articles which can be made by any boy of average
intelligence, not only in the camp but at home as well.
The use of a narrative to connect the various incidents marks a
departure in this class of book, and it is believed that the matter will
thus be made more realistic and interesting. In all cases full
directions are given for making the various articles. While it is not
presumed that the directions will be slavishly followed, for this would
defeat the general aim of the work, yet all the principal dimensions are
given so that they can be used, if desired.
I beg to acknowledge the courtesy of Mr. Daniel C. Beard and Mr. Henry
D. Cochrane in supplying a number of photographs. The directions for
making the lee boards (page 119) were obtained from data furnished by
the latter. Many of the details recorded in the chapter on Tramping
Outfits are to be accredited to Mr. Edward Thorpe. In the preparation of
this book I have received valuable assistance from my colleague, Mr. A.
A. Hopkins.
A. RUSSELL BOND.
New York, October, 1905.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
"BILL" 17
The Old Trunk. Christmas Vacation. "Bill's" Skate Sail. Willow
Clump Island. Organizing the Society.
CHAPTER II.
SKATE SAILS 26
The Double Swedish Sail. The Single Swedish Sail. The Lanteen
Sail. The Danish Sail. Bat's Wings.
CHAPTER III.
SNOW SHOES, SKIS AND SWAMP SHOES 35
Chair Seat Snow Shoe. Barrel Stave Snow Shoe. Barrel Hoop Snow
Shoe. The Sioux Snow Shoe. The Iroquois Snow Shoe. The Ainu
Snow Shoe. The Norwegian Ski. The Swamp Shoe or Swiss Snow
Shoe.
CHAPTER IV.
TENT MAKING 44
Farewell Meeting. Word from Uncle Ed. The Canvas Tent.
Adjustable Ridge Pole. Tie Blocks. The Annex.
CHAPTER V.
PREPARING FOR THE EXPEDITION 53
Tent Fly. Provisions and Supplies. Umbrella Rib Crossbow.
Megaphone. The Scow.
CHAPTER VI.
OFF TO THE ISLAND 63
A Unique Alarm Clock. The Trip to the Island. Preliminary
Exploration. A Rustic Table. The Small Filter. The Barrel
Filter. The _Klepalo_.
CHAPTER VII.
SURVEYING 73
The Surveying Instrument. Spirit Levels. The Tripod. Surveyor's
Chain. Surveyor's Rod. A Simple Method of Surveying. Mapping
the Island.
CHAPTER VIII.
SWIMMING 84
Swimming on a Plank. Shooting the Rapids. Restoring the
Drowned. How to Work over a Patient Alone.
CHAPTER IX.
BRIDGE BUILDING 95
The Spar Bridge. The Rope Railway. The Suspension Bridge.
The Pontoon Bridge. The King Rod Truss. Stiffening the Bridge.
The King Post Bridge.
CHAPTER X.
CANVAS CANOES 109
Uncle Ed's Departure. A Visit from Mr. Schreiner. The Sailing
Canoe. Stretching on the Canvas. The Rudder. The Deep Keel.
Canoe Sails. Lee Boards. Indian Paddling Canoe.
CHAPTER XI.
HOUSE BUILDING 124
The Grass Hut. The Goblins' Dancing Platform. Dutchy
Takes a Dare. A Path Up the Fissure. Rope Ladders. The
Derrick. The Tree House. Sliding Doors.
CHAPTER XII.
TROUBLE WITH THE TRAMPS 138
The Scow is Stolen. A Council of War. Vengeance. A Double
Surprise. Tramp-proof Boat Mooring.
CHAPTER XIII.
WIGWAGGING AND HELIOGRAPHING 144
Wigwag Signals. The Wigwag Alphabet. Abbreviations. Wigwagging
at Night. The Heliograph. The Single Mirror Instrument.
The Sight Rod. The Screen. Focusing the Instrument. Heliograph
Signaling. The International Telegraph Code. The Double
Mirror Instrument.
CHAPTER XIV.
ICE BOATS, SLEDGES AND TOBOGGANS 158
Breaking Camp. The Ice Boat. The Sledge. The Toboggan.
The Rennwolf. Ice Creepers.
CHAPTER XV.
THE SUBTERRANEAN CLUB 171
A Cave-in. Excavating for the Cave. Covering the Cave. The
Big Bug Club. Midnight Banquets. The Club Pin. The Combination
Lock.
CHAPTER XVI.
SCOOTERS 183
A Sail in the Scow. Our Craft Strikes the Ice. The Scooter Scow.
A Sprit Sail. Scooter Sailing. A Meeting of the Society. An
Interview with Mr. Van Syckel. The Scooter Canoe.
CHAPTER XVII.
AN ARCTIC EXPEDITION 193
Willow Clump Island in Winter. Kindling a Camp Fire. The
Outdoor Fireplace. A Stone-paved Fireplace. A Cold Night in
the Hut. Mountain Climbing. A Poor Shelter. A Costly Camp
Fire. A Friend in Time of Trouble.
CHAPTER XVIII.
TRAMPING OUTFITS 203
Sleeping Bags. Bill's "Mummy Case." The "A" Tent. A
Camp Chair. A Camp Bed. The Camp Bed in a Shower. A
Nightmare. Pack Harness. Riveting.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE LAND YACHT 215
The Frame of the Yacht. A Simple Turnbuckle. Stepping the
Mast. Mounting the Frame on Bicycle Wheels. The Tiller. A
"Leg-of-Mutton" Sail. A Sail Through the Country.
CHAPTER XX.
EASTER VACATION 224
Bill's Cave. The Barrel Stave Hammock. The Barrel Armchair.
The Summer Toboggan. Tailless Kites. A Five-foot Malay Kite.
An Eight-foot Malay Kite. The Elastic Belly Band. Putting the
Kites to Work. The Diamond Box Kite.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE WATER WHEEL 240
The Water Wheel. Surveying for the Water Wheel. Towers for
the Water Wheel. The Wheel. The Buckets. The Paddles.
The Receiving Trough. Setting Up the Towers. Mounting the
Water Wheel. Cooling the Filter Barrel. The Canvas Bucket.
Mr. Halliday's Water Wheel.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE LOG CABIN 254
Foundation of Log Cabin. A Logging Expedition. The Log Raft.
The Sail-Rigged Raft. Building the Log Cabin. The Roof of
the Log Cabin. Door and Window Frames. The Fireplace.
The Proper Way to Build a Stone Wall. The Floor of the Cabin.
The Door Hinges and Latch. The Window Sash. Bunks. Stopping
up the Chinks.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE WINDMILL 273
Digging the Well. The Windmill Tower. The Crank Shaft. The
Wind Wheel. A Simple Brake. The Pump. Pump Valves.
Action of the Pump.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE GRAVITY RAILROAD 283
The Car. The Flanged Wheels. Car Axles. Mounting the Wheels.
The Railway Track. The Carpenter's Miter Box. Laying the Track.
The First Railway Accident. Testing the Track.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE CANTILEVER BRIDGE 292
Frames for the Cantilever Bridge. Erecting the Towers. Setting up
the Frames. Binding and Anchoring the Structure. The Center
Panels of the Bridge. A Serious Interruption. Dispossessed.
Farewell to Willow Clump Island. Reddy's Cantilever Bridge.
[Illustration: Map of Willow Clump Island and Vicinity.]
THE SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN BOY.
CHAPTER I.
"BILL."
"Bill," he was it, the Scientific American Boy, I mean. Of course, we
were all American boys and pretty scientific chaps too, if I do say it
myself, but Bill, well he was the whole show. What he didn't know wasn't
worth knowing, so we all thought, and even to this day I sometimes
wonder how he managed to contrive and execute so many remarkable plans.
At the same time he was not a conceited sort of a chap and didn't seem
to realize that he was head and shoulders above the rest of us in
ingenuity. But, of course, we didn't all have an uncle like Bill did.
Bill's Uncle Ed was one of those rare men who take a great interest in
boys and their affairs, a man who took time to answer every question put
to him, explaining everything completely and yet so clearly that you
caught on at once. Uncle Ed (we all called him that) was a civil
engineer of very high standing in his profession, which had taken him
pretty much all over the world, and his naturally inquisitive nature,
coupled with a wonderful memory, had made him a veritable walking
encyclopedia. With such an uncle it is no wonder that Bill knew
everything. Of course, there were some things that puzzled even Bill.
But all such difficulties, after a reasonable amount of brain-work had
failed to clear them, were submitted to Uncle Ed. Uncle Ed was always
prompt (that was one thing we liked about him), and no matter where he
was or what he was doing he would drop everything to answer a letter
from the society.
THE OLD TRUNK.
[Illustration: Fig. 1. The Old Trunk in the Attic.]
[Illustration: Fig. 2. The Black Walnut Box.]
But hold on, I am getting ahead of my story. I was rummaging through the
attic the other day, and came across an old battered trunk, one that I
used when I went to boarding-school down in south Jersey. That trunk was
certainly a curiosity shop. It contained a miscellaneous assortment of
glass tubes, brass rods, coils of wire, tools, fish hooks--in fact, it
was a typical collection of all those "valuables" that a boy is liable
to pick up. Down in one corner of the trunk was a black walnut box,
marked, with brass letters, "Property of the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I."
On my key-ring I still carried the key to that box, which had not been
opened for years. I unlocked the box and brought to light the "Records
and Chronicles of the Society for the Scientific Investigation,
Exploration and Exploitation of Willow Clump Island." For hours I pored
over those pages, carried back to the good old times we used to have as
boys along the banks of the Delaware River, until I was brought sharply
back to the present by the sound of the dinner bell. It seemed that the
matter contained in those "Chronicles" was too good to be kept locked up
in an old trunk. Few boys' clubs ever had such a president as Bill, or
such a wonderful bureau of information as Uncle Ed. For the benefit of
boys and boykind in general, I decided then and there to publish, as
fully as practicable, a record of what our society did.
CHRISTMAS VACATION.
This was how the society came to be formed. Bill, whom I met at
boarding-school, was an orphan, and that's why he was sent to
boarding-school. His uncle had to go down to Brazil to lay out a
railroad, I believe, and so he packed Bill off to our school, which was
chosen in preference to some others because one of the professors there
had been a classmate of Uncle Ed's at college. Bill roomed with me, and
naturally we became great chums. When Christmas time came, of course I
invited him to spend the holidays with me. My home was situated in the
little village of Lamington, on the Jersey side of the Delaware River.
Here we arrived late at night on the Saturday before Christmas. A cold
wind was blowing which gave promise of breaking the spell of warm
weather we had been having, and of giving us a chance to try our skates
for the first time. True to our expectations, the next day was bitterly
cold, and a visit to the canal which ran along the river bank, just
beyond our back fence, showed that quite a thick skim of ice had formed
on the water. Monday morning, bright and early, found us on the smooth,
slippery surface of the canal. "Us" here includes, in addition to Bill
and myself, my two younger brothers, Jack and Fred, and also Dutchy Van
Syckel and Reddy Schreiner, neighbors of ours. It was the custom at the
first of December every year to drain out most of the water in the
canal, in order to prevent possible injury to the canal banks from the
pressure of the ice. But there was always a foot or two of water
covering the bottom of the canal, and this afforded a fine skating park
of ample width and unlimited length, while the high canal banks on each
side protected us from the bitter wind that was blowing. Toward noon,
however, the wind shifted and swept at a terrific rate down the narrow
lane between the canal banks. We could scarcely make headway against the
blow. It was too much for Bill, who wasn't as used to skating as we
were. He sat down in a sheltered nook and commenced to think. When Bill
sat down to think it always meant that something was going to happen, as
we soon learned.
"Say, Jim," said he to me, "have you got any canvas up at the house?"
"No," I replied. "What do you want it for?"
"I want to rig up a skate sail. If you have an old sheet, that will do
just as well."
"Well, I guess I can find you an old sheet. Do you think you can make
one?"
"Sure thing," answered Bill, and off we went to the house, where I
received my first lesson on the practical genius of my chum.
"BILL'S" SKATE SAIL.
[Illustration: Fig. 3. Laying Out the Sail.]
[Illustration: Fig. 4. The Tape Tie Strings.]
[Illustration: Fig. 5. "Bill's" Sail Complete.]
The old sheet which Mother furnished us was laid out on the floor and
two corners were folded over to the center, as shown in the drawing,
making a triangle with base 7 feet long and sides each about 4 feet 6
inches long. The surplus end piece was then cut off, and a broad hem
turned and basted all around the edges of the triangle. Bill wanted to
work the sewing machine himself, but Mother was afraid he would break
something, so she sewed down the hem for us. Then, under Bill's
supervision, she re-enforced the corners by sewing on patches of cloth.
Along the diagonal a strip of heavy tape was sewed, leaving loops at
intervals, which afterward were cut and provided means for tying the
sail to the mast. Tie strings of tape were also sewed at the corners, as
shown in the illustration, and then a trip was made to the garden in
search of suitable spars. A smooth bean pole of about the right weight
served for the mast, and another stick with a crotch at one end served
as the boom or cross-spar. The spars were cut to proper length, and the
sail was then tied on, as illustrated, with the crotch of the cross-spar
fitted against and tied to the center of the mast. A light rope, long
enough to provide plenty of slack, was tied to the ends of the mast to
assist in guiding the sail when in use. In the meantime I had procured
another sheet from one of our neighbors, and Bill helped me make a sail
for myself. It was not until long after dark that we finished our work.
WILLOW CLUMP ISLAND.
The next day we tried the sails and it didn't take me very long to learn
how to steer the device. The wind had changed again and this time blew
up the canal. We took the line of least resistance, and went skimming up
the ice lane like birds for several miles before we realized how far we
were getting away from home. As we rounded a bend in the canal, much to
my astonishment, I saw just before us the bridge at Raven Hill, eight
miles from our town. We started to go back, but the wind was too strong
for us, and there wasn't much room in which to do any tacking; nor could
we make any progress when the sails were folded. I began to get
extremely tired and rather exasperated at Bill for not having thought of
the return trip before he led me such a hot pace up the canal. But Bill
was getting tired, too.
"Look here, Jim," he said, "we haven't covered a mile, and I'm worn
out."
"Why in thunder didn't you think of this before we started?" I returned.
"How much money have you with you?" was the reply.
"What's that got to do with it?"
"I'll tell you in a minute. How much have you?"
A careful search of my dozen odd pockets netted the sum of twenty-seven
cents.
"I have fifty-nine," said Bill, "and that makes eighty-six altogether,
doesn't it? Isn't there a railroad depot near here?"
"There is one at Raven Hill, and the next is at Lumberville. That is
about eleven miles from home."
"Well," said Bill, "at three cents each per mile that would amount to
sixty-six cents. Let's sail on to Lumberville and then take the train
back."
On we sped to Lumberville, only to find that the next train was not due
until noon, and it was now just half past ten.
Time never hung heavy on our hands. Out on the river we espied an
island. I had heard of this island--Willow Clump Island, it was
called--but had never been on it; consequently I fell in with Bill's
suggestion that we make it a visit. Owing to the rapids which separated
the island from the Jersey shore, we had to go up stream a quarter of a
mile, to where a smooth sheet of ice had formed, over a quiet part of
the river; thence we sailed down to the island along the Pennsylvania
side.
"What a capital island for a camp," cried Bill, after we had explored it
pretty thoroughly. "Have you ever been out camping?"
I had to confess I never had, and then Bill gave me a glowing account of
his experiences in the Adirondacks with his uncle the year before, which
so stirred up the romance in me that I wanted to camp out at once.
"Shucks!" said Bill, "We would freeze in this kind of weather, and
besides, we've got to make a tent first."
We then sat down and made elaborate plans for the summer. Suddenly the
distant sound of a locomotive whistle interrupted our reveries.
"Jiminy crickets!" I exclaimed. "That's the train coming through
Spalding's Cut. We've got to hustle if we are to catch it."
We were off like the wind, and a merry chase brought us to the
Lumberville depot in time to flag the train. We arrived at Lamington at
half past twelve, a trifle late for dinner, rather tired and hungry, but
with a glowing and I fear somewhat exaggerated account of our adventure
for the credulous ears of the rest of the boys.
ORGANIZING THE SOCIETY.
The camping idea met with the hearty approval of all, and it was decided
to begin preparations at once for the following summer. Dutchy, whose
father was a member of a geographical society, suggested that we form a
society for the exploration of Willow Clump Island. By general
acclamation Bill was chosen president of the society, Dutchy was made
vice-president, Reddy was elected treasurer, and they made me secretary.
It was Dutchy who proposed the name "The Society for the Scientific
Investigation, Exploration and Exploitation of Willow Clump Island." It
was decided to make an expedition of exploration as soon as we could
make skate sails for the whole society.