Camp and Trail

As I mentioned at the beginning of this chapter modern desiccation of foods has helped the wilderness traveler to some extent. I think I have tried about everything in this line. In the following list I shall mention those I think good, and also those particularly bad. Any not mentioned it may be implied that I do not care for myself, but am willing to admit that you may.

Canned Eggs.—The very best thing of this kind is made by the National Bakers' Egg Co., of Sioux City. It is a coarse yellow granulation and comes in one-pound screw-top tin cans. Each can contains the equivalent of five dozen eggs, and costs, I think, only $1.25. A tablespoon of the powder and two of water equals an egg. With that egg you can make omelets and scrambled eggs, which you could not possibly tell from the new-laid. Two cans, weighing two pounds, will last you all summer; and think of the delight of an occasional egg for breakfast! The German canned eggs—Hoffmeir's is sold in this country—are rather evil tasting, do not beat up light, and generally decline sullenly to cook.

Soups.—Some of the compressed soups are excellent. The main difficulty is that they are put up in flimsy paper packages, difficult to carry without breaking. Also I have found that when you take but two kettles, you are generally hungry enough to begrudge one of them to anything as thin as even the best soup. However, occasionally a hot cupful is a good thing; and I should always include a few packages. The most filling and nourishing is the German army ration called Erbswurst. It comes in a sausage-shaped package, which is an exception to the rule in that it is strongly constructed. You cut off an inch and boil it. The taste is like that of a thick bean soup. It is said to contain all the elements of nutrition.

Knorr's packages make good soup when you get hold of the right sort. We have tried them all, and have decided that they can be divided into two classes—those that taste like soup, and the dishwater brand. The former comprise pea, bean, lentil, rice, and onion; the latter, all others.

Maggi's tablets are smaller than Knorr's and rather better packed. The green pea and lentil make really delicious soup.

Bouillon capsules of all sorts I have no use for. They serve to flavor hot water, and that is about all.

Desiccated Vegetables come in tablets about four inches square and a quarter of an inch thick. A quarter of one of these tablets makes a dish for two people. You soak it several hours, then boil it. In general the results are all alike, and equally tasteless and loathsome. The most notable exception is the string beans. They come out quite like the original vegetable, both in appearance and taste. I always take some along. Enough for twenty meals could be carried in the inside pocket of your waistcoat.

Julienne, made by Prevet. A French mixture of carrots and other vegetables cut into strips and dried. When soaked and boiled it swells to its original size. A half cupful makes a meal for two. It ranks with the string beans in being thoroughly palatable. These two preparations are better than canned goods, and are much more easily carried.

Potatoes, saxin, saccharine, and crystallose I have already mentioned.

That completes the most elaborate grub list I should care to recommend. As to a quantitative list, that is a matter of considerably more elasticity. I have kept track of the exact quantity of food consumed on a great many trips, and have come to the conclusion that anything but the most tentative statements must spring from lack of experience. A man paddling a canoe, or carrying a pack all day, will eat a great deal more than would the same man sitting a horse. A trip in the clear, bracing air of the mountains arouses keener appetites than a desert journey near the borders of Mexico, and a list of supplies ample for the one would be woefully insufficient for the other. The variation is really astonishing.

Therefore the following figures must be experimented with rather cautiously. They represent an average of many of my own trips.

These lists are not supposed to be "eaten down to the bone." A man cannot figure that closely. If you buy just what is included in them you will be well fed, but will probably have a little left at the end of the month. If you did not, you would probably begin to worry about the twenty-fifth day. And this does not pay. Of course if you get game and fish, you can stay out over the month.

CHAPTER VIII

CAMP COOKERY

This chapter will not attempt to be a camp cook-book. Plenty of the latter can be bought. It will try to explain dishes not found in camp cook-books, but perhaps better adapted to the free and easy culinary conditions that obtain over an open fire and in the open air.

After bacon gets a little old, parboil the slices before frying them.

Bread.—The secret of frying-pan bread is a medium stiff batter in the proportion of one cup of flour, one teaspoon of salt, one tablespoon of sugar, and a heaping teaspoon of baking powder. This is poured into the well-greased and hot pan, and set flat near the fire. In a very few moments it will rise and stiffen. Prop the pan nearly perpendicular before the blaze. When done on one side, turn over. A clean sliver or a fork stuck through the center of the loaf will tell you when it is done: if the sliver comes out clean, without dough sticking to it, the baking is finished.

In an oven the batter must be somewhat thinner. Stiff batter makes close-grained heavy bread; thin batter makes light and crisp bread. The problem is to strike the happy medium, for if too stiff the loaf is soggy, and if too thin it sticks to the pan. Dough should be wet only at the last moment, after the pan is ready, and should be lightly stirred, never kneaded or beaten.

Biscuits are made in the same way, with the addition of a dessert-spoonful of cottolene, or a half spoonful of olive oil.

Cornbread is a mixture of half cornmeal and half flour, with salt, baking powder, and shortening.

Unleavened bread properly made is better as a steady diet than any of the baking powder products. The amateur cook is usually disgusted with it because it turns out either soggy or leathery. The right method, however, results in crisp, cracker-like bread, both satisfying and nourishing. It is made as follows:

Take three-quarters of a cup of either cornmeal, oatmeal, Cream of Wheat, or Germea, and mix it thoroughly with an equal quantity of flour. Add a teaspoonful of salt, a tablespoonful of sugar, and a teaspoonful of olive oil or shortening. Be sure not to exceed the amount of the latter ingredient. Mix in just enough water to wet thoroughly, and beat briskly; the result should be almost crumbly. Mold biscuits three inches across and a quarter of an inch thick, place in a hot greased pan, and bake before a hot fire. The result is a thoroughly cooked, close-grained, crisp biscuit.

Corn pone is made in the same manner with cornmeal as the basis.

Flapjack flour is mixed with water simply; but you will find that a tablespoonful of sugar not only adds to the flavor, but causes it to brown crisper. It is equally good baked in loaves. The addition of an extra spoonful of sugar, two eggs (from your canned desiccated eggs), raisins and cinnamon makes a delicious camp cake. This is known as "flapjohn"—a sort of sublimated flapjack.

Puddings.—The general logic of a camp-baked pudding is this:

You have first of all your base, which is generally of rice, cornmeal, or breakfast food previously boiled; second, your filling, which may be raisins, prunes, figs, or any other dried fruit; third, your sweetening, which is generally sugar, but may be syrup, honey, or saccharine tablets; fourth, your seasoning, which must be what you have—cinnamon, nutmeg, lemon, etc., and last, your coagulating material, which must be a small portion of your egg powder. With this general notion you can elaborate.

The portions of materials, inclusive of other chance possessions, the arrangement of the ingredients determines the naming of the product. Thus you can mix your fruit all through the pudding, or you can place it in layers between strata of the mixture.

As an example: Boil one-half cupful of rice with raisins, until soft, add one-half cupful of sugar, a half spoonful of cinnamon, and a tablespoonful of egg powder. Add water (water mixed with condensed milk, if you have it) until quite thin. Bake in moderate heat. Another: Into two cups of boiling water pour a half cup of cornmeal. Sprinkle it in slowly, and stir in order to prevent lumps. As soon as it thickens, which will be in half a minute, remove from the fire. Mix in a quarter cup of syrup, some figs which have been soaked, a spoonful of egg powder, milk if you have it, and the flavoring—if you happen to have tucked in a can of ginger, that is the best. The mixture should be thin. Bake before moderate fire.

I am not going on to elaborate a number of puddings by name; that is where the cook-books make their mistake. But with this logical basis, you will soon invent all sorts of delicious combinations. Some will be failures, no doubt; but after you get the knack you will be able to improvise on the least promising materials.

Do not forget that mixing ingredients is always worth trying. A combination of rice and oatmeal boiled together does not sound very good, but it is delicious, and quite unlike either of its component parts. I instance it merely as an example of a dozen similar.

Tea.—The usual way of cooking tea is to pour the hot water on the leaves. If used immediately this is the proper way. When, however, as almost invariably happens about camp, the water is left standing on the leaves for some time, the tannin is extracted. This makes a sort of tea soup, at once bitter and unwholesome. A simple and easy way is to provide yourself with a piece of cheesecloth about six inches square. On the center drop your dose of dry tea leaves. Gather up the corners, and tie into a sort of loose bag. Pour the hot water over this, and at the end of five minutes fish out the bag. Untie it, shake loose the tea leaves, and tuck away until next time. The tea in the pot can then be saved for the late fisherman without fear of lining his stomach with leather. Also it is no trouble.

Coffee, too, is more often bad than good in the field. The usual method is to put a couple of handfuls in cold water, bring it to a boil, and then set it aside to settle. Sometimes it is good that way, and sometimes it isn't. A method that will always succeed, however, is as follows: Bend an ordinary piece of hay wire into the shape of a hoop, slightly larger than the mouth of your pot. On it sew a shallow cheesecloth bag. Put your ground coffee in the bag, suspend in the coffee pot, and pour the hot water through. If you like it extra strong, pour it through twice. The result is drip coffee, delicious, and without grounds. To clean the bag turn it inside out and pour water through. Then flatten the hay wire hoop slightly and tuck it away inside the pot with the cups.

Mush.—The ideal method of cooking mush is of course a double boiler and just the amount of water the cereal will take up. Over an open fire, that would result in a burned product and a caked kettle. The best way is to make it very thin at first, and to boil it down to the proper consistency.

Beans will boil more quickly if you add a pinch of soda. An exaggerated pinch, however, causes them to taste soapy, so beware. If the water boils too low, add more hot water, never cold; the latter toughens them. When soft smash them with a fork, add water, and cook with fat in the frying pan.

Hardtack.—A most delicious dish to be eaten immediately is made of pilot bread soaked soft, and then fried. The same cracker fried in olive oil, without being previously soaked, comes out crisp and brown, but without impaired transportability. When butter is scarce this is a fine way to treat them in preparation for a cold lunch by the way.

Macaroni should be plunged in boiling water, otherwise it gets tough. What remains should be baked in mixture with whatever else is left—whether meal, cereal, or vegetable.

Corn.—After you have eaten what you want of the warmed-up, mix what is left with a spoonful or so of sugar, some diluted milk, and a spoonful of egg powder. Bake it.

Salmon may be eaten cold, but is better hashed up with bread crumbs, well moistened, and baked before a hot fire.

These are but a few general hints which you will elaborate on. The Price Baking Powder Co. publish gratis a "Mine and Ranch Cookery" which is practical. Also read Nessmuk's Woodcraft.

This leaves out of account the various hybrid mixtures of "what is left," and the meal and fish dishes in a good sporting country. As a matter of fact mixtures generally bake better than they boil.

CHAPTER IX

HORSE OUTFITS

You will find the Mexican or cowboy saddle the only really handy riding saddle. I am fully aware of the merits of the McClellan and army saddles, but they lack what seems to me one absolute essential, and that is the pommel or horn. By wrapping your rope about the latter you can lead reluctant horses, pull firewood to camp, extract bogged animals, and rope shy stock. Without it you are practically helpless in such circumstances. The only advantage claimed for the army saddle is its lightness. The difference in weight between it and the cowboy saddle need not be so marked as is ordinarily the case. A stock saddle, used daily in roping heavy cows, weighs quite properly from thirty-five to fifty pounds. The same saddle, of lighter leather throughout, made by a conscientious man, need weigh but twenty-five or thirty, and will still be strong and durable enough for all ordinary use. My own weighs but twenty-five pounds, and has seen some very hard service.

The stirrup leathers are best double, and should be laced, never buckled. In fact the logic of a wilderness saddle should be that it can be mended in any part with thongs. The stirrups themselves should have light hood tapaderos, or coverings. They will help in tearing through brush, will protect your toes, and will keep your feet dry in case of rain. I prefer the round rather than the square skirts.

In a cow country you will hear many and heated discussions over the relative merits of the single broad cinch crossing rather far back; and the double cinches, one just behind the shoulder and the other on the curve of the belly. The double cinch is universally used by Wyoming and Arizona cowmen; and the "center fire" by Californians and Mexicans—and both with equally heated partisanship. Certainly as it would be difficult to say which are the better horsemen, so it would be unwise to attempt here a dogmatic settlement of the controversy.

For ordinary mountain travel, however, I think there can be no doubt that the double cinch is the better. It is less likely to slip forward or back on steep hills; it need not be so tightly cinched as the "center fire," and can be adjusted, according to which you draw the tighter, for up or down hill. The front cinch should be made of hair. I have found that the usual cord cinches are apt to wear sores just back of the shoulder. Webbing makes a good back cinch. The handiest rig for attaching them is that used by the Texan and Wyoming cowmen. It is a heavy oiled latigo strap, punched with buckle holes, passing through a cinch ring supplied with a large buckle tongue. You can reach over and pull it up a hole or so without dismounting. It differs from an ordinary buckle only in that, in case the rig breaks, the strap can still be fastened like an ordinary latigo in the diamond knot.

On the right-hand side of your pommel will be a strap and buckle for your riata. A pair of detachable leather saddle bags are handy. The saddle blanket should be thick and of first quality; and should be surmounted by a "corona" to prevent wrinkling under the slight movement of the saddle.

A heavy quirt is indispensable, both for your own mount, if he prove refractory, but also for the persuasion of the pack horse.

When with a large outfit, however, I always carry a pea shooter or sling shot. With it a man can spot a straying animal at considerable distance, generally much to the truant's astonishment. After a little it will rarely be necessary to shoot; a mere snapping of the rubbers will bring every horse into line.

The handiest and best rig for a riding bridle can be made out of an ordinary halter. Have your harness maker fasten a snap hook to either side and just above the corners of the horse's mouth. When you start in the morning you snap your bit and reins to the hooks. When you arrive in the evening you simply unsnap the bit, and leave the halter on.

Rope and spurs will be necessary. I prefer the Mexican grass rope with a brass honda to the rawhide riata, because I am used to it. I once used a linen rope with weighted honda that was soft and threw well. The spurs will be of good steel, of the cowboy pattern, with blunt rowels. The smaller spurs are not so easy to reach a small horse with, and are apt to overdo the matter when they do. The wide spur leathers are to protect the boot from chafing on the stirrups.

There remains only your rifle to attend to. The usual scabbard is invariably slung too far forward. I always move the sling strap as near the mouth of the scabbard as it will go. The other sling strap I detach from the scabbard and hang loopwise from the back latigo-ring. Then I thrust the muzzle of the scabbarded rifle between the stirrup leathers and through this loop, hang the forward sling strap over the pommel—and there I am! The advantage is that I can remove rifle and scabbard without unbuckling any straps. The gun should hang on the left side of the horse so that after dismounting you need not walk around him to get it. A little experiment will show you how near the horizontal you can sling it without danger of its jarring out.

So much for your own riding horse. The pack outfit consists of the pack saddle, with the apparatus to keep it firm; its padding; the kyacks, or alforjas—sacks to sling on either side; and the lash rope and cinch with which to throw the hitches.

The almost invariable type of pack saddle is the sawbuck. If it is bought with especial reference to the animal it is to be used on, it is undoubtedly the best. But nothing will more quickly gouge a hole in a horse's back than a saddle too narrow or too wide for his especial anatomy. A saddle of this sort bolted together can be taken apart for easier transportation by baggage or express.

Another and very good type of pack rig is that made from an old riding saddle. The stirrup rigging is removed, and an upright spike bolted strongly to the cantle. The loops of the kyacks are to be hung over the horn and this spike. Such a saddle is apt to be easy on a horse's back, but is after all merely a make-shift for a properly constructed sawbuck.

I shall only mention the aparejos. This rig is used for freighting boxes and odd-shaped bundles. It is practically nothing but a heavy pad, and is used without kyacks. You will probably never be called upon to use it; but in another chapter I will describe one "sling" in order that you may be forearmed against contingencies.

We will assume that you are possessed of a good sawbuck saddle of the right size for your pack animal. It will have the double cinch rig. To the under surfaces tack firmly two ordinary collar-pads by way of softening. Beneath them you will use two blankets, each as heavy as the one you place under your riding saddle. This abundance is necessary because a pack "rides dead"—that is, does not favor the horse as does a living rider. By way of warning, however, too much is almost as bad as too little.

The almost universal saddle rigging in use the West over is a breast strap of webbing fastened at the forward points of the saddle, and a breech strap fastened to the back points of the saddle, with guy lines running from the top to prevent its falling too far down the horse's legs. This, with the double cinch, works fairly well. Its main trouble is that the breech strap is apt to work up under the horse's tail, and the breast strap is likely to shut off his wind at the throat.

Mr. Ernest Britten, a mountaineer in the Sierras, has, however, invented a rig which in the nicety of its compensations, and the accuracy of its adjustments is perfection. Every one becomes a convert, and hastens to alter his own outfit.

The breasting is a strap (a) running from the point of the saddle to a padded ring in the middle of the chest. Thence another strap (b) runs to the point of the saddle on the other side, where it buckles. A third strap (c) in the shape of a loop goes between the fore legs and around the front cinch.

The breeching is somewhat more complicated. I think, however, with a few rivets, straps, and buckles you will be able to alter your own saddle in half an hour.

The back cinch you remove. A short strap (d), riveted to the middle of the front cinch, passes back six inches to a ring (e). This ring will rest on the middle of the belly. From the ring two other straps (ff) ascend diagonally to the buckles (g) in the ends of the breeching. From the ends of the breeching other straps (h) attach to what would be the back cinch ring (k). That constitutes the breeching rig. It is held up by a long strap (m) passing from one side to the other over the horse's rump through a ring on top. The ring is attached to the saddle by a short strap (n).

Such a rig prevents the breeching from riding up or dropping down; it gives the horse all his wind going up hill, but holds firmly going down; when one part loosens, the other tightens; and the saddle cinch, except to keep the saddle from turning, is practically useless and can be left comparatively loose. I cannot too strongly recommend you, both for your horse's comfort and your own, to adopt this rigging.

The kyacks, as I have said, are two sacks to be slung one on each side of the horse. They are provided with loops by which to hang them over the sawbucks of the saddle, and a long strap passes from the outside of one across the saddle to a buckle on the outside of the other.

Undoubtedly the best are those made of rawhide. They weigh very little, will stand all sorts of hard usage, hold the pack rope well, are so stiff that they well protect the contents, and are so hard that miscellaneous sharp-cornered utensils may be packed in them without fear of injury either to them or the animal. They are made by lacing wet hides, hair out, neatly and squarely over one of the wooden boxes built to pack two five gallon oil cans. A round hardwood stick is sewn along the top on one side—to this the sling straps are to be attached. After the hide has dried hard, the wooden box is removed.

Only one possible objection can be urged against rawhide kyacks; if you are traveling much by railroad, they are exceedingly awkward to ship. For that purpose they are better made of canvas.

Many canvas kyacks are on the market, and most of them are worthless. It is astonishing how many knocks they are called on to receive and how soon the abrasion of rocks and trees will begin to wear them through. Avoid those made of light material. Avoid also those made in imitation of the rawhide with a stick along the top of one side to take the sling straps. In no time the ends of that stick will punch through. The best sort are constructed of OO canvas. The top is made of a half-inch rope sewn firmly to the hem all around. The sling straps are long, and riveted firmly. The ends are reinforced with leather. Such kyacks will give you good service and last you a long time. When you wish to express them, you pack your saddle and saddle blankets in one, telescope the other over it, and tie up the bundle with the lash rope. The lash rope is important, for you will have to handle it much, and a three months' trip with a poor one would lose you your immortal soul. Most articles on the subject advise thirty-three feet. That is long enough for the diamond hitch and for other hitches with a very small top pack, but it will not do for many valuable hitches on a bulky pack. Forty feet is nearer the ticket. The best is a manila half inch or five-eighth inch. If you boil it before starting out, you will find it soft to handle. The boiling does not impair its strength. Parenthetically: do not become over-enthusiastic and boil your riata, or you will make it aggravatingly kinky. Cotton rope is all right, but apt to be stiff. I once used a linen rope; it proved to be soft, strong, and held well, but I have never been able to find another.

The cinch hook sold with the outfit is sawn into shape and strengthened with a bolt. If you will go out into the nearest oak grove, however, you can cut yourself a natural hook which will last longer and hold much better. The illustration shows the method of attaching such a hook.

So you have your horses ready for their burdens. Picket ropes should be of half-inch rope and about 50 feet long. The bell for the bell horse should be a loud one, with distinctive note not easily blended with natural sounds, and attached to a broad strap with safety buckle.

Hobbles are of two patterns. Both consist of heavy leather straps to buckle around either front leg and connected by two links and a swivel. In one the strap passes first through the ring to which the links are attached, and then to the buckle. The other buckles first, and then the end is carried through the ring. You will find the first mentioned a decided nuisance, especially on a wet or frosty morning, for the leather tends to atrophy in a certain position from which numbed fingers have more than a little difficulty in dislodging it. The latter, however, are comparatively easy to undo.

Hobbles should be lined. I have experimented with various materials, including the much lauded sheepskin with the wool on. The latter when wet chafes as much as raw leather, and when frozen is about as valuable as a wood rasp. The best lining is a piece of soft wash leather at least two inches wider than the hobble straps.

With most horses it is sufficient to strap a pair of these around the forelegs and above the fetlocks. A gentle animal can be trusted with them fastened below.

But many horses by dint of practice or plain native cussedness can hop along with hobbles nearly as fast as they could foot-free, and a lot too fast for you to catch them single handed. Such an animal is an unmitigated bother. Of course if there is good staking you can picket him out; but quite likely he is unused to the picket rope, or the feed is scant.

In that case it may be that side lines—which are simply hobbles by which a hind foot and a fore foot are shackled—may work. I have had pretty good success by fastening a short heavy chain to one fore leg. As long as the animal fed quietly, he was all right, but an attempt at galloping or trotting swung the chain sufficiently to rap him sharply across the shins.

Very good hobbles can be made from a single strand unraveled from a large rope, doubled once to make a loop for one leg, twisted strongly, the two ends brought around the other leg and then thrust through the fibers. This is the sort used generally by cowboys. They are soft and easily carried, but soon wear out.

CHAPTER X

HORSE PACKS

To the average wilderness traveler the possession of a pack saddle and canvas kyacks simplifies the problem considerably. If you were to engage in packing as a business, wherein probably you would be called on to handle packages of all shapes and sizes, however, you would be compelled to discard your kyacks in favor of a sling made of rope. And again it might very well happen that some time or another you might be called on to transport your plunder without appliances on an animal caught up from the pasture. For this reason you must further know how to hitch a pack securely to a naked horse.

In this brief résumé of possibilities you can see it is necessary that you know at least three methods of throwing a lash rope—a hitch to hold your top pack and kyacks, a sling to support your boxes on the aparejos, and a hitch for the naked horse. But in addition it will be desirable to understand other hitches adapted to different exigencies of bulky top packs, knobby kyacks and the like. One hitch might hold these all well enough, but the especial hitch is better.

The detailment of processes by diagram must necessarily be rather dull reading. It can be made interesting by an attempt to follow out in actual practice the hitches described. For this purpose you do not need a full-size outfit. A pair of towels folded compactly, tied together, and thrown one each side over a bit of stove wood to represent the horse makes a good pack, while a string with a bent nail for cinch hook will do as lash rope. With these you can follow out each detail.

First of all you must be very careful to get your saddle blankets on smooth and without wrinkles. Hoist the saddle into place, then lift it slightly and loosen the blanket along the length of the backbone, so that the weight of the pack will not bind the blanket tight across the horse's back. In cinching up, be sure you know your animal; some puff themselves out so that in five minutes the cinch will hang loose. Fasten your latigo or cinch straps to the lower ring. Thus you can get at it even when the pack is in place.