MISCELLANEOUS.--GENERAL ADVICE.
If you travel horseback, singly or in parties, a previous experience in
riding and in the care of your animal are necessary for pleasure. What
is said about overloading applies here: you must go light; let your
saddlebags be small, and packed so as not to chafe the horse. If you
have the choice of a saddle, take a "McClellan" or a similar one, so
that you can easily strap on your blankets and bags. If you have time
before starting, try to teach your horse, what so few horses in the
Northern States know, to be guided by the pressure of reins against the
neck instead of a pull at the bit.
BOATING.
I do not propose to say much about boating, as the subject can hardly
have justice done to it in a book of this sort. Parties of young men
spend their summer vacation every year in camping and boating. It is a
most delightful way,--superior in many respects to any other,--but it
requires both experience and caution, neither of which is usually found
in young men. So I hope that, if you will go in a boat, you may be an
exception to the general rule, and will, for your parents' and friends'
sake, take a small boat without ballast rather than a large one
ballasted so heavily that it will sink when it fills.
When you belay the sheets of your sail, make a knot that can be untied
by a single pull at the loose end: any boatman will show you how to do
this. _Never make fast the sheets in any other way._ Hold the sheets in
your hands if the wind is at all squally or strong. Do not venture out
in a heavy wind. Stow your baggage snugly before you start: tubs made by
sawing a flour-barrel in two are excellent to throw loose stuff into.
Remember to be careful; keep your eyes open, and know what you are going
to do before you try it. The saying of an old sea-captain comes to me
here: "I would rather sail a ship around the world, than to go down the
bay in a boat sailed by a boy."
RECKONING LOST.
It often happens in travelling, that the sun rises in what appears the
north, west, or south, and we seem to be moving in the wrong direction,
so that when we return home our remembrance of the journey is confused.
Perhaps a few hints on this subject may help the reader. Supposing your
day's journey ends at Blanktown, where you find your compass-points
apparently reversed. It then becomes natural for you to make matters
worse by trying to lay out in your mind a new map, with Blanktown for
the "hub," and east in the west, and so on. You can often prevent these
mishaps, and can always make them less annoying, by studying your map
well both before and during your journey; and by keeping in your mind
continually, with all the vividness you can, what you are really doing.
As far as Blanktown is concerned, you will have two impressions, just as
we all have two impressions with regard to the revolution of the earth
on its axis: apparently the sun rises, goes over and down; but in our
minds we can see the sun standing still, and the earth turning from west
to east.
Upon leaving Blanktown you are likely to carry the error along with you,
and to find yourself moving in what appears to be the wrong way. Keep in
mind with all the vividness possible, the picture of what you are really
doing, and keep out of mind as much as you can the ugly appearance of
going the wrong way. Every important change you make, be sure to "see
it" in the mind's eye, and let the natural eye be blind to all that is
deceiving. After a while things will grow real, and you must try to keep
them so. The more perfectly you know the route and all its details, the
less you will be troubled in this way.
If you are travelling in the cars, and if you have a strong power of
imagination, you can very easily right errors of this kind by learning
from the map exactly what you are doing, and then by sitting next to the
window, shut your eyes as you go around a curve that tends to aggravate
the difficulty, and hold fast what you get on curves that help you. If
you sit on the left side of the car, and look ahead, the cars seem to
sweep continually a little to the right, and _vice versa_, when really
moving straight ahead,--provided your imagination is good.
When you are travelling on an unknown road, you should always inquire
all about it, to avoid taking the wrong one, which you are likely to do,
even if you have a good map with you.
LADIES AS PEDESTRIANS.
I have once or twice alluded to ladies walking and camping. It is
thoroughly practicable for them to do so. They must have a wagon, and do
none of the heavy work; their gowns must not reach quite to the ground,
and all of their clothing must be loose and easy.[23] Of course there
must be gentlemen in the party; and it may save annoyance to have at
least one of the ladies well-nigh "middle-aged." Ladies must be cared
for more tenderly than men. If they are not well, the wagon should go
back for them at the end of the day's march; shelter-tents are not to be
recommended for them, nor are two blankets sufficient bedclothing. They
ought not to be compelled to go any definite distance, but after having
made their day's walk let the tents be pitched. Rainy weather is
particularly unpleasant to ladies in tents; deserted houses,
schoolhouses, saw-mills, or barns should be sought for them when a storm
is brewing.
LADIES AND CHILDREN IN CAMP.
In a permanent camp, however, ladies, and children as well, can make
themselves thoroughly at home.[24] They ought not to "rough it" so much
as young men expect to: consequently they should be better protected
from the wet and cold.
I have seen a man with his wife and two children enjoy themselves
through a week of rainy weather in an A-tent; but there are not many
such happy families, and it is not advisable to camp with such limited
accommodations.
Almost all women will find it trying to their backs to be kept all day
in an A-tent. If you have no other kind, you should build some sort of a
wall, and pitch the tent on top of it. It is not a difficult or
expensive task to put guy-lines and a wall of drilling on an A-tent, and
make new poles, or pitch the old ones upon posts. In either case you
should stay the tent with lines running from the top to the ground.
It has already been advised that women should have a stove; in general,
they ought not to depart so far from home ways as men do.
Rubber boots are almost a necessity for women and children during rainy
weather and while the dew is upon the grass.
SUMMER-HOUSES, SHEDS, AND BRUSH SCREENS.
There is little to be said of the summer-houses built at the seaside
near our large cities, since that is rather a matter of carpentry; nor
of portable houses; nor of lattice-work with painted paper; nor even of
a "schbang" such as I have often built of old doors, shutters, outer
windows, and tarred paper: any one who is ingenious can knock together
all the shelter his needs require or means allow. But, where you are
camping for a week or more, it pays you well to use all you have in
making yourself comfortable. A bush house, a canopy under which to eat,
and something better than plain "out-of-doors" to cook in, are among the
first things to attend to.
If you wish to plant firmly a tree that you have cut down, you may
perhaps be able to drive a stake larger than the trunk of the tree; then
loosen the stake by hitting it on the sides, and pull it out. You can do
this when you have no shovel, or when the soil is too hard to dig. Small
stakes wedged down the hole after putting in the tree will make it firm.
ETIQUETTE.
Some things considered essential at the home table have fallen into
disuse in camp. It is pardonable, and perhaps best, to bring on whatever
you have cooked in the dish that it is cooked in, so as to prevent its
cooling off.
You will also be allowed to help yourself first to whatever is nearest
you, before passing it to another; for passing things around in camp is
risky, and should be avoided as much as possible for that reason.
Eat with your hats on, as it is more comfortable, and the wind is not so
apt to blow your stray hairs into the next man's dish.
If you have no fork, do not mind eating with your knife and fingers.
But, however much liberty you take, do not be rude, coarse, or uncivil:
these bad habits grow rapidly in camp if you encourage them, and are
broken off with difficulty on return.
If there is no separate knife for the butter, cheese, and meat, nor
spoon for the gravy and soup, you can use your own by first wiping the
knife or spoon upon a piece of bread.
Be social and agreeable to all fellow-travellers you meet. It is a
received rule now, I believe, that you are under no obligations to
consider travelling-acquaintances as permanent: so you are in duty bound
to be friendly to all thrown in your way. However, it is not fair to
thrust your company upon others, nor compel a courtesy from any one. Try
to remember too, that it is nothing wonderful to camp out or walk; and
do not expect any one to think it is. We frequently meet parties of
young folks walking through the mountains, who do great things with
their tongues, but not much with their feet. If you will refrain from
bragging, you can speak of your short marches without exciting contempt.
Avoid as much as possible asking another member of the party to do your
work, or to wait upon you: it is surprising how easily you can make
yourself disliked by asking a few trifling favors of one who is tired
and hungry.
MOSQUITOES, BLACK FLIES, AND MIDGE.
These pests will annoy you exceedingly almost everywhere in the summer.
In the daytime motion and perspiration keep them off to some extent. At
night, or when lying down, you can do no better than to cover yourself
so that they cannot reach your body, and have a mosquito-bar of some
sort over your head. The simplest thing is a square yard of
mosquito-netting thrown over the head, and tucked in well. You will need
to have your hat first thrown over the head, and your shirt-collar
turned up, to prevent the mosquitoes reaching through the mesh to your
face and neck.
A better way than this is to make a box-shaped mosquito-bar, large
enough to stretch across the head of the bed, and cover the heads and
shoulders of all that sleep in the tent. It should be six or eight feet
long, twenty to twenty-six inches wide, and one yard or more high. It
will be more durable, but not quite so well ventilated, if the top is
made of light cloth instead of netting. The seams should be bound with
stout tape, and the sides and ends "gathered" considerably in sewing
them to the top. Even then the side that falls over the shoulders of the
sleepers may not be loose enough to fill the hollows between them; the
netting will then have to be tucked under the blanket, or have something
thrown over its lower edge.
Sew loops or strings on the four upper corners, and corresponding loops
or strings on the tent, so that you can tie up the bar.
Bobbinet lace is better than the common netting for all of these
purposes. It comes in pieces twelve to fourteen yards long, and two
yards wide. You cannot often find it for sale; but the large shops in
the principal cities that do a great business by correspondence can send
it to you.
Oil of cedar and oil of pennyroyal are recommended as serviceable in
driving off mosquitoes, and there are patented compounds whose labels
pretend great things: you will try them only once, I think.
Ammoniated opodeldoc rubbed upon the bites will in a great measure stop
the itching, and hasten the cure.
They say that a little gunpowder flashed in the tent will drive out
flies and mosquitoes. I saw a man try it once, but noticed that he
himself went out in a great hurry, while the flies, if they went at all,
were back again before he was.
A better thing, really the best, is a smudge made by building a small
fire to the windward of your tent, and nearly smothering it with chips,
moss, bark, or rotten wood. If you make the smudge in an old pan or pot,
you can move it about as often as the wind changes.
HOW TO SKIN FISH.
When you camp by the seaside, you will catch cunners and other fish that
need skinning. Let no one persuade you to slash the back fins out with a
single stroke, as you would whittle a stick; but take a sharp knife, cut
on both sides of the fin, and then pull out the whole of it from head to
tail, and thus save the trouble that a hundred little bones will make if
left in. After cutting the skin on the under side from head to tail, and
taking out the entrails and small fins, start the skin where the head
joins the body, and pull it off one side at a time. Some men stick an
awl through a cunner's head, or catch it fast in a stout iron hook, to
hold it while skinning.
Cunners and lobsters are sometimes caught off bold rocks in a net. You
can make one easily out of a hogshead-hoop, and twine stretched across
so as to make a three-inch mesh.[25] Tie a lot of bait securely in the
middle, sink it for a few minutes, and draw up rapidly. The rush of
water through the net prevents the fish from escaping.
EXPENSES.
The expenses of camping or walking vary greatly, of course, according to
the route, manner of going, and other things. The principal items are
railroad-tickets, horse and wagon hire, trucking, land-rent (if you camp
where rent is charged), and the cost of the outfit. You ought to be able
to reckon very nearly what you will have to pay on account of these
before you spend a cent. After this will come the calculation whether to
travel at all by rail, supposing you wish to go a hundred miles to reach
the seaside where you propose to camp, or the mountains you want to
climb. If you have a horse and wagon, or are going horseback, it will
doubtless be cheaper to march than to ride and pay freight. If time is
plenty and money is scarce, you may perhaps be able to walk the
distance cheaper than to go by rail; but, if you lodge at hotels, you
will find it considerably more expensive. The question then is apt to
turn on whether the hundred miles is worth seeing, and whether it is so
thickly settled as to prevent your camping.
To walk a hundred miles, carrying your kit all the way, will take from
one to two weeks, according to your age, strength, and the weather. We
have already stated that there is little _pleasure_ in walking more than
sixty miles a week. But if you wish to go as fast as you can, and have
taken pains to practise walking before starting, and can buy your food
in small quantities daily, and can otherwise reduce your baggage, you
can make the hundred miles in a week without difficulty, and more if it
is necessary, unless there is much bad weather.
The expense for food will also vary according to one's will; but it need
not be heavy if you can content yourself with simple fare. You can
hardly live at a cheaper rate than the following:--
ONE WEEK'S SUPPLY FOR TWO MEN.
Ten pounds of pilot-bread; eight pounds of salt pork; one pound of
coffee (roasted and ground); one to two pounds of sugar (granulated);
thirty pounds of potatoes (half a bushel).[26] A little beef and butter,
and a few ginger-snaps, will be good investments.
Supposing you and I were to start from home in the morning after
breakfast; when noon comes, we eat the lunch we have taken with us, and
press on. As the end of the day's march approaches, we look out to buy
two quarts of potatoes at a farmhouse or store; and we boil or fry, or
boil and mash in milk, enough of these for our supper. The breakfast
next morning is much the same. We cook potatoes in every way we know,
and eat the whole of our stock remaining, thus saving so much weight to
carry. We also soak some pilot-bread, and fry that for a dessert, eating
a little sugar on it if we can spare it. When dinner-time approaches, we
keep a lookout for a chance to buy ten or twelve cents' worth of bread
or biscuits. These are more palatable than the pilot-bread or crackers
in our haversack. If we have a potato left from breakfast, we cook and
eat it now. We cut off a slice of the corned beef, and take a nibble at
the ginger-snaps. If we think we can afford three or four cents more, we
buy a pint of milk, and make a little dip-toast. And so we go;
sometimes we catch a fish, or pass an orchard whose owner gives us all
the windfalls we want. We pick berries too; and keep a sharp lookout
that we supply ourselves in season when our pilot-bread, sugar, pork,
and butter run low. Some days we overtake farmers driving ox-carts or
wagons; we throw our kits aboard, and walk slowly along, willing to lose
a little time to save our aching shoulders. And in due time, if no
accident befalls, nor rainy weather detains us, we arrive at our
seashore or mountain.
You may like to know that this is almost an exact history, at least as
far as eating is concerned, of a twelve days' tramp I once went on in
company with two other boys. There was about five dollars in the party,
and nearly two dollars of this was spent in paying toll on a boat that
we took through a canal a part of the way. We carried coffee, sugar,
pork, and beef from home, and ate potatoes three times a day. We had a
delightful time, and came home fattened up somewhat; but I will admit
that I did not call for potatoes when I got back to my father's table,
for some days.
In general, however, it will be noticed that those who camp out for the
season, or go on walking-tours, do so at a moderate expense because
they start with the determination to make it cheap. For this purpose
they content themselves with old clothes, which they fit over or repair,
take cooking-utensils from their own kitchen, and, excepting in the
matter of canned foods, do not live very differently from what they do
at home.
Nearly all the parties of boys that I have questioned spend all the
money they have, be it little or much. Generally those I have met
walking or camping seem to be impressed with the magnitude of their
operations, and to be carrying constantly with them the determination to
spend their funds sparingly enough to reach home without begging. It is
not bad practice for a young man.
Here I wish to say a word to parents--having been a boy myself, and
being now a father. Let your boys go when summer comes; put them to
their wits; do not let them be extravagant, nor have money to pay other
men for working for them. It is far better for them to move about than
to remain in one place all the time. The last, especially if the camp is
near some place of public resort, tends to encourage idleness and
dissipation.
When you return home again from a tour of camping, and go back to a
sedentary life, remember that you do not need to eat all that your
appetite calls for. You may make yourself sick if you go on eating such
meals as you have been digesting in camp. You are apt also upon your
return to feel as you did on the first and second days of your tour;
this is especially liable to be the case if you have overworked
yourself, or have not had enough sleep.
FOOTNOTES:
[23] A flannel dress, the skirt coming to the top of the boots, and
having a blouse waist, will be found most comfortable.
[24] It is no novelty for women and children to camp out: we see them
every summer at the seaside and on the blueberry-plains. A great many
families besides live in rude cabins, which are preferable on many
accounts, but are expensive. Sickness sometimes results, but usually all
are much benefited. I know a family that numbered with its guests nine
ladies, five children ("one at the breast"), and the _paterfamilias_,
which camped several weeks through some of the best and some of the
worst of weather. The whooping-cough broke out the second or third day;
shortly after, the tent of the mother and children blew down in the
night, and turned them all out into the pelting rain in their
night-clothes. Excepting the misery of that night and day, nothing
serious came of it; and in the fall all returned home better every way
for having spent their summer in camp.
[25] The mesh of a net is measured by pulling it diagonally as far as
possible, and finding the distance from knot to knot; consequently a
three-inch mesh will open so as to make a square of about an inch and a
half.
[26] The field allowance in the United States army is nearly 1-1/8
pounds of coffee and 2-1/8 pounds of sugar (damp brown) for two men
seven days; the bread and pork ration is also larger than that above
given; but the allowance of potatoes is almost nothing.