General Remarks.--The most bulky, and often the heaviest, parts of a
traveller's equipment are his clothes, sleeping-mat, and blankets: nor is
it at all desirable that these should be stinted in quantity; for the
hardship that most tries a man's constitution and lays the seeds of
rheumatism, dysentery, and fever, is that of enduring the bitter cold of
a stormy night, which may happen to follow an exhausting day of extreme
heat or drenching wet. After many months' travel and camping, the
constitution becomes far less susceptible of injury from cold and damp,
but in no case is it ever proof against their influence. Indeed, the
oldest travellers are ever those who go the most systematically to work,
in making their sleeping-places dry and warm. Unless a traveller makes
himself at home and comfortable in the bush, he will never be quite
contented with his lot; but will fall into the bad habit of looking
forwards to the end of his journey, and to his return to civilisation,
instead of complacently interesting himself in its continuance. This is a
frame of mind in which few great journeys have been successfully
accomplished; and an explorer who cannot divest himself of it, may
suspect that he has mistaken his vocation.
It is a common idea among men who are preparing to travel for the first
time, that all the bed-clothing about which they need concern themselves,
is a sufficiency to cover them, forgetting that a man has an under as
well as an upper side to keep warm, and must therefore have clothing
between him and the earth, as well as between him and the air. Indeed, on
trying the experiment, and rolling oneself up in a single blanket, the
undermost side in a cold night is found to be by far the colder of the
two. The substance of the blanket is compressed by the weight of the
sleeper; the interstices between its fibres cease to exist; and the air
which they contained and which is a powerful non-conductor of heat, is
squeezed out. Consequently wherever the blanket is compressed, its power
of retaining the heat of the sleeper is diminished. Soft fleecy
substances, like eider-down quilts, which are extremely warm as
coverlets, are well-nigh useless as mattresses. There is another cause
why a sleeper requires more protection from below, than from above: it is
that if the ground be at all wet, its damp will penetrate through very
thick substances laid upon it. It will therefore be clearly understood
that the object of a mattress is not alone to give softness to the bed,
but also to give warmth; and that if a man lies in a hammock, with only
the hammock below, and blankets above, he will be fully as much chilled
as if the arrangement had been reversed, and he had lain upon blankets,
with only the hammock as a sheet to cover him.
Vital Heat.--The vital heat of a man, either in an active or a latent
form, is equal to that which is given out by two ordinary candles: I
judge so from the following reasons. All our vital heat is produced by
the combustion--for it is simple combustion--of the carbon in our food.
Now the quantity of carbon consumed by a man in full diet, in 24 hours,
is about 22 oz. in weight. On the other hand, I find that ordinary
candles, which mainly consist of carbon, burn at the rate of 11 oz. in 24
hours. Therefore the heat given out by two candles is just about the same
as that given out by one man, either in a sensible form, or else under a
latent form by the vapour of the breath. Secondly, I have frequently
heard it estimated, as the result of the ordinary experience of social
life, that a saloon is warmed by each couple of candles somewhat more
than it is by the presence of a single guest. Where I write these lines,
I have not an opportunity of verifying my rough estimate, by reference to
physiological works, but accuracy is of little consequence to my present
purpose, which is to give a general idea of the magnitude of the problem
to be solved by clothes and tenting. Their joint office is to retain the
heat of a mass of flesh and blood, the size and shape of a man, warmed by
two candles burning within it, at a temperature of not less than 96
degrees in its inward parts.
Mattresses and their Substitutes.--A Strip of Macintosh.--If a traveller
can do so, he should make a point of having a strip of macintosh sheeting
7 feet by 4, certainly not less than 6 feet by 3, to lay on the ground
below his bedding. Every white servant in the expedition ought to be
furnished with a strip of macintosh sheeting, or, failing that, with a
strip of painted canvas. However, painted cloth is much inferior to
macintosh, as it will not fold up without cracking: it also tears easily,
and is heavy. Macintosh, of the sort that suits all climates, and made of
linen, not of silk, is invaluable to an explorer, whether in the form of
sheeting, coats, water-bags. swimming belts, or inflatable boats. A
little box full of the composition for mending it, and a spare bit of
macintosh, should always be taken.
Mattress.--Making a mattress is indeed a very simple affair. A bag of
canvas, or other cloth, is made of the size wanted. It is then stuffed
full of hair, wool, dry leaves, or cotton, and a strong stitch is put
through it every few inches. The use of the stitching is to prevent the
stuffing from being displaced, and forming lumps in different parts of
the bag.
Palliasse.--Straw, well knitted or plaited together, forms a good
mattress, commonly called a palliasse.
Shavings of Wood.--Eight pounds' weight of shavings make an excellent
bed, and I find I can cut them with a common spokeshave, in 3 1/2 hours,
out of a log of deal. It is practicable to make an efficient spokeshave,
by tying a large clasp-knife on a common stick which has been cut into a
proper shape to receive it.
Oakum.--Old cord, picked into oakum, will also make a bed.
Various Makeshifts.--If a traveller, as is very commonly the case, should
have no mattress, he should strew his sleeping-place with dry grass,
plucked up from the ground, or with other things warm to the touch,
imitating the structure of a bird's-nest as far as he has skill and
materials to do so. Leaves, fern, feathers, heather, rushes, flags of
reeds and of maize, wood-shavings, bundles of faggots, and such like
materials as chance may afford, should be looked for and appropriated; a
pile of stones, or even two trunks of trees rolled close together, may
make a dry bedstead in a marshy land. Over these, let him lay whatever
empty bags, skins, saddle-cloths, or spare clothes he may have, which
from their shape or smallness cannot be turned to account as coverings,
and the lower part of his bed is complete.
If a night of unusual cold be expected, the best use to make of spare
wearing-apparel, is to put it on over that which is already on the
person. With two or three shirts, stockings, and trousers, though
severally of thin materials, a man may get through a night of very trying
weather.
Preparing the Ground for a Bed.--Travellers should always root up the
stones and sticks that might interfere with the smoothness of the place
where they intend to sleep. This is a matter worth taking a great deal of
pains about; the oldest campaigners are the most particular in making
themselves comfortable at night. They should also scrape a hollow in the
ground, of the shape shown in fig. 2 (next page), before spreading their
sleeping-rugs. It is disagreeable enough to lie on a perfectly level
surface, like that of a floor, but the acme of discomfort is to lie upon
a convexity. Persons who have omitted to make a shapely lair for
themselves, should at least scrape a hollow in the ground, just where the
hip-bone would otherwise press.
[Sketch of person sleeping and bed; Fig. 1 and 2].
The annexed sketch (fig. 1) represents a man sleeping in a natural
attitude. It will be observed that he fits into a concavity of about 6
inches in greatest depth. (The scale on which he is drawn is 6 feet long
and 1 foot high.)