Coverlets.--General Remarks.--For an upper cover, it is of importance to
an otherwise unsheltered person, that its texture should be such as to
prevent the wind blowing through. If it does so, no thickness is of any
avail in keeping out the cold; hence the advantage of skin carosses,
buffalo robes, leather sheets, and macintosh rugs. All clothes lose much
of their closeness of texture in a hot, dry climate; the fibres shrink
extremely, and the wind blows through the tissue as through network. It
is in order to make their coverings wind-proof, that shepherd-lads on the
hills in Scotland, when the nights are cold, dip their plaids in water,
before sitting or lying down in them. The wet swells up the fibres of the
plaid, and makes the texture of it perfectly dense and close. It is also
of importance that the outer covering should have a certain weight, so as
not to be too easily displaced, either by the person fidgeting in his
sleep or by the blowing of the wind. In dry weather there is nothing like
furs; but in a rainy country I prefer a thick blanket bag (see "Sleeping
Bags"), a large spare blanket, and a macintosh sheet and counterpane. It
may be objected that the bag and macintosh would be close and stuffy, but
be assured that the difficulty when sleeping on mother earth, on a bitter
night, is to keep the fresh air out, not to let it in. On fine nights I
should sleep on the bag and under the spare blanket.
Stuffy Bedding.--It must be understood that while recommending coverlets
that resist the wind, I am very far from advocating extreme stuffiness,
and for the following reason. Though a free passage of the wind abstracts
an excessive amount of animal heat from the sleeper, yet the freshness of
pure air stimulates his body to give it out in an increased proportion.
On the other hand, sleeping-clothes that are absolutely impervious to the
passage of the wind, necessarily retain the cutaneous excretions: these
poison the sleeper, acting upon his blood through his skin, and
materially weaken his power of emitting vital heat: the fire of his life
burns more languidly. I therefore suspect it would be more dangerous to
pass a very cold night enclosed tightly in thin macintosh buttoned up to
the chin, than without it. Much less heat would be robbed from the
sleeper in the first case, but he would have very much less heat to
spare. There is, therefore, an intermediate arrangement of sleeping-gear,
neither too stuffy on the one hand nor too open on the other, by which
the maximum power of resisting the chill of the night is obtainable.
Sleeping Clothes.--Some travellers prefer to have their blanket at once
made up into a loose coat, trousers, and cap, pockets ad libitum, and a
tape in the trouser band. An extra suit is thus always at hand, the
sleeper loses little of the advantages of comfortable bedding, and is
always, in some sense, dressed for any emergency.
Feathers.--When you collect bed feathers for coverlets, recollect that if
they are cleanly plucked, they will require no dressing of any kind, save
drying and beating.
Brown Paper.--Brown paper is an excellent non-conductor of heat and
excluder of draughts: English cottagers often enclose sheets of it within
their quilted counterpanes. If thoroughly soaked and then dried, it will
not crackle.
Extra Clothes.--If a man be destitute of proper wraps, he cannot do
better than put on all the spare clothes he possesses. The additional
warmth of a single extra shirt is remarkable.
Dry Clothes.--However wet the weather may be during the day, the
traveller should never relax his endeavours to keep a dry and warm change
of clothes for his bivouac at night. Hardships in rude weather matter
little to a healthy man, when he is awake and moving, and while the sun
is above the horizon; but let him never forget the deplorable results
that may follow a single night's exposure to cold, malaria, and damp.
Pillows.--A mound of sand or earth, scraped together for a pillow, is
ground down into flatness, after a few minutes. A bag filled with earth,
or it may be with grass, keeps its shape. Many people use their saddles
as pillows; they roll up the flaps and stirrups, and place the saddle on
the ground with a stone underneath, at its hindmost end, to keep it level
and steady, and then lay their heads on the seat. I prefer using anything
else; as, for instance, the stone without the saddle: but I generally
secure some bag or other for the purpose, as, without a pillow, it is
difficult to sleep in comfort. A bag shaped like a pillow-case, and
stuffed with spare clothes, is very convenient. Some people advocate
air-cushions.
Mr. Mansfield Parkyns' excellent plan, of sleeping on the side, with the
stock of the gun between the head and the arm, and the barrel between the
legs, will be described when I speak of "Guns."