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WOODCRAFT

FOR WOMEN

 

BY

KATHRENE G. PINKERTON

 

 

Number 41

 

 

 

NEW YORK

OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY

MCMXVI

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I
WOMAN AND THE OUT OF DOORS

When a passion for hunting and uninhabited regions led Daniel Boone from his Yadkin farm to his adventurous life as hunter and trapper, he did not take his wife with him. And when the out of door man first began his two-weeks’ emulation of the Kentuckian, true to history, he did not take woman with him in his back-to-the-wilderness movement. Somehow, out of the neglect, arose the impression that woods joys were for men alone.

Gradually a few women discovered that the lazy drifting down a pine and rock-bound stream calms feminine as well as masculine nerves and that the dimly blazed trail into an unknown country arouses the pioneering instinct in them as truly as it does in man.

But even after the discovery of these things the feminine out of door movement unfortunately continued to be of the individual rather than of a class. Alone, the isolated enthusiasts worked out their dress, camping, and equipment problems. The publicity which has so greatly stimulated masculine woods material has been lacking in the feminine movement. The result has been that only those women who had a natural love for the woods, or those whom circumstances had led to the woods, have embraced the out of door cult. And many potential woodswomen have not felt the impelling force which would overcome woman’s natural inertia toward, and lack of understanding in, physical things.

A discussion of the causes of this inertia would lead us far afield in the history of woman. It is sufficient here to realize its existence and the fact that it makes more difficult adaptation to the woods for woman. It does explain, however, the large number of women who go on outings as passive observers rather than as active participants.

Few of us like to do that which we cannot do well. That same healthy egotism which leads us to do much of value in this world also makes us unwilling voluntarily to demonstrate our inefficiency. So, because woman cannot at once do well the things which man does easily, she either loses interest or becomes content to watch rather than do. This is one of the worst solutions, for in that same degree in which we participate are we able to extract the joy from an out of door vacation.

For those women who are meeting the first difficulties of adaptation, or for those who have gone farther and have developed an understanding and an ability in out of door things, a treatise on woodcraft with its feminine modifications may be of interest and of value. In this book there has been no endeavor to set forth a distinct type of woodsmanship for women only, but rather to show the possibilities of an art which can be made common to the sexes.

But, while the practice of woodcraft is the same for men as for women, the method of approach must be somewhat different. The force of one of the factors in this difference depends largely upon the individual’s capacity for adaptation. Woodcraft concerns itself to a considerable extent with the tasks upon which daily existence depends. In the home these tasks have fallen into woman’s sphere and have come to be regarded as subjects upon which she is an authority. Man, on the other hand, gives them scant consideration in town. For that reason he can approach them in the woods with an open mind, while woman is often handicapped by her knowledge. The underlying principles of woods cooking, clothing, and home making are quite different from those governing the consideration of these subjects in civilization.

A town cook must be able to prepare and serve a good meal. In doing this she may avail herself of well stocked groceries, meat markets, and pure food depots. In the woods her efficiency depends most upon her ease in cooking, her ingenuity in substituting what is in the packsack for what the recipe calls for, and her ability to replace appetizingly the water which previously has been dried out of the foods.

The woman who clothes herself well in town is the one who can, despite a limited purse, attain distinction, mode, and beauty in her garments. None of these elements assists in the woods in affording freedom of movement, resistance from snags, and proof against rain.

The considerations of a well planned house are convenience, cleanliness, and beauty. An efficient camp maker is one who can most quickly erect a shelter for herself and her possessions in a driving rain, or who can arrange two packsacks and a bed in a seven by seven tent so that all are immediately available.

Realization that a different environment will bring different considerations not only helps to overcome this handicap but also gives woman an advantage. Having learned the new principles, she may draft from her former knowledge all sorts of time-saving, comfort-adding expedients.

And therein lies the key to success in the out of doors. Resolved to its essentials, woodcraft is a game, and, like all games, becomes most fascinating when we win. Nature is our opponent. To force from her comfort and pleasure means victory. The greater our ease and skill and power of adaptation, the quicker and the sweeter the rewards. There is more joy in one single trick that defeats discomfort than an army of guides and expensive equipment can give.

CHAPTER II
WOODS CLOTHING

The question of clothes is given first place, not because of woman’s natural love for them, but because of their important bearing on her comfort and efficiency while in the woods. The elements which enter into the choice of woods clothes are necessarily different from those which affect the selection of ordinary garments. The question of adornment must yield precedence to those of efficiency and durability. This does not mean that unbecoming woods garments must be the rule. There are any number of attractive costumes for the out of door woman. But unpractical features which serve only for ornamentation should be sacrificed by the woman who does not wish to be handicapped by her clothing.

Personal preference, which plays so large a part in the selection of woman’s clothes in town, must give way, for the tenderfoot woman at least, to the factor of adaptability, for personal preferences are necessarily based upon preconceived ideas and so are valueless in a new environment. The initial selection of the inexperienced woman should be an unbiased trying out of the theories of those who have done the things that she is dressing to do. If, after the first season, she is unconvinced, the theories are valueless to her, and her next choice should be influenced by personal preference. For few women can be happy if their clothing is either physically or mentally uncomfortable.

Shamelessly I admit to having discarded articles of woods attire, the efficiency of which I had to grant, but to which I had taken an unaccountable dislike, and in which, therefore, I could never be mentally comfortable. The amused astonishment with which this procedure was received by the masculine portion of the family has made me believe that this is a feminine trait, one which inevitably will enter into the choice of women’s clothes.

In the selection of clothes the woodswoman is at some disadvantage. In few cities have her needs been met with the same generosity that has characterized the attitude of sportsmen’s outfitters toward men campers. Adequacy and quality have often been sacrificed in feminine garments to the more elusive elements which are supposed to commend themselves to women.

In this the outfitter is not entirely at fault. Where men realize that woods attire must wear, and so are willing to pay for good material, the tenderfoot woman hesitates. None of the modern woman’s experience with clothing would lead her to pay only for material, to disregard entirely the facts that the garment is to be worn where there are none to appreciate it, and that the timeliness of its mode has nothing to do with the determination of its cost.

But to the woman who has once gone forth properly clad, who has watched her clothes resist snags which would ruin ordinary cloth, who has felt the warm, soft wooliness of her mackinaw on a wet, raw day, there comes an understanding of that glow of friendship for the efficient garment which is felt by every out of door enthusiast.

The type of garment must be influenced largely by the nature of the expedition. The cabin or permanent camp, from which excursions will be undertaken only on pleasant days, does not demand that all clothes be woods clothes in the strictest sense. But even for such vacations at least one outfit for rough trips should be included. To be without it may result in being held a prisoner in camp or its immediate vicinity.

On canoeing or walking trips the garments must afford greater durability and freedom of movement. On trips of this nature, unless they be in a settled district, natural barriers will be encountered. Realization of what an out of the way portage can produce in the way of tangled windfalls, or what a trip back into the woods can do to clothing which is not snag-proof, will come only after a first experience. In this period of many and good roads it is difficult to picture a primitive, roadless country or vast spaces like the great north woods where travel, except on an occasional logging road, must be by lake and narrow portage. In such a land trails are kept open only by the necessity which compels the traveler to cut his own way after a storm, and almost every inland journey calls for windfall-climbing, swamp-wading determination.

Yet so great is the charm of adventuring that willingly we chop our way through a mile of tangled brush to reach a hidden lake which lies over the hill, and we count that day as one of enchantment in which, after hours of brush fighting, we reach the depths of a tamarack swamp and eat our lunch on a three foot bed of moss.

It is the unexpected, off-the-trail expedition which leaves bewitching memories for long winter evenings. Garments which permit participation in them will enable the woodswoman to extract the most from her vacation.

Only the garments which allow such participation shall be considered here. For while clothing suitable for town wear may by some ingenuity and adaptation be made to serve in cabin or permanent camp, they are not real woods clothes and do not belong logically in a book on feminine woodcraft.

One of the greatest difficulties in an article on woods clothing is in the treatment of material. Outings are taken in such a range of territory and through such varying seasons of the year that nothing but the most general rules can be laid down. Even these must be varied to meet individual peculiarities and unusual conditions.

All woods clothing which is to be worn on the outside should have a hard, smooth surface which offers as little opportunity as possible for snags and brush to catch or tear.

The weight and the material must vary to suit climatic conditions. To go to either extreme, however, will cause discomfort. A hot sun does not demand the lightest garments. Those which by texture or color afford as much protection as possible from the sun’s rays will give the greatest comfort. Neither do the coldest seasons demand the heaviest garments. The latter mistake is most frequently made. I have seen several fall and winter visitors in the north woods actually suffer from the heat because they overlooked the fact that they would be forced to indulge in violent exercise while weighted down with heavy mackinaws.

An English engineer, whose work has taken him from the Equator to the Arctic Circle, gave the wisest advice on this subject that I ever heard, when he said that in choosing his clothing he always bought that worn by the natives of the country into which he was going.

In warmer climates the color of the clothes is important. Lighter shades reflect heat and the darker ones absorb it.

The north woods, and by that is meant the wilderness stretching along the border States and the southern part of Canada, demand some warm garments even in summer. There the occasional raw day and the usual cool evening are inevitable, and a suit of light wool underwear or a flannel shirt will mean much in comfort.

On any trip where there will be long exposure to all kinds of weather and where there are frequent changes of temperature, it is well to carry a suit of wool underwear. Wet cotton conducts heat from the skin very quickly. This may be rather exhilarating in excessively warm weather but on cooler days it is both uncomfortable and unhealthful. And so on any trip where an immediate change of wet garments is not possible, wool underclothing is wise.

This does not necessarily mean heavy wool. The efficacy of the garment lies in the material, not in the weight. For summer use it is best to buy the lightest obtainable imported wool. There is a brand made in England as gauzy and far softer than any cotton. A union suit in this quality weighs only six ounces. When desired the same quality of wool can be had in combination with silk.

All of these statements are general. It would be impossible to be more definite regarding clothes which will be worn through such a range of territory and through such varied seasons of the year. They may, however, prove of value as basic principles for the choice of clothes for specific localities or definite uses.

Because of the resultant flexibility in meeting different conditions, and the convenience in changing wet garments, the two piece outer costume is the most efficient. This means, of course, that a separate shirt will be worn.

Its material depends upon climatic conditions and the number of shirts allowed. If the amount of duffle is unrestricted, a shirt to meet every emergency will be possible. If the equipment must be cut down that shirt should be taken which will serve most comfortably in average conditions. But never should the cotton shirt be too thin to afford protection from the sun’s rays and never should the flannel shirt be too heavy to rob violent exercise of its pleasure.

The cut of the shirt is important. It should be roomy around the arm holes. A man’s shirt with attached collar and long sleeves is the most comfortable and the most easily purchased in various weights. On any trip where there will be mosquitoes or danger of sunburn, the neck should at least be adaptable to high or low wear and the sleeves long. The collar can always be left open and the sleeves rolled up. The low cut variety leaves the wearer at the mercy of the sun at all times. While a coat of tan may be desirable, a badly blistered skin which has become infected may become dangerous.

The Balkan “middy” has one very attractive feature for those who wear riding trousers in the woods, covered by a skirt in settlements. The Balkan effect, a restraining band at the bottom, comes at the hips and so hides the bulky waist line which so often results from wearing a skirt over riding trousers. In doing this, however, the woods appearance is sacrificed for the effect in town, for the middy does not look well with trousers.

As freedom of movement is determined largely by the type of lower garment, the choice between the skirt and its substitutes is important. One bifurcated garment should be included in every woman’s outing equipment. So clad, she can participate in strenuous activities with a minimum of effort, and women are sufficiently handicapped by lesser strength without adding to the impediment. A garment in which the knees are dressed separately allows greater freedom in paddling from the knees, getting into and out of canoes, climbing over windfalls and ascending steep, rocky hills. In snowshoeing it does away entirely with a clinging, snow-drenched skirt.

The possible out of door garments are short skirts with bloomers, bloomers alone, knickerbockers and riding trousers.

Bloomers usually end at the knee and thereby fail to provide protection from cold in winter and from mosquitoes in summer. This lack may be met by the use of leggings, but this means that two garments are used to do the work which may be done by one, while lacings or fastenings on leggings mean snagging and catching on brush. The greatest objection to bloomers, however, is the fullness of the knee, which is usually gathered or pleated into a cuff. This is dangerous where the vacation activities will take one off well beaten paths. If this fullness is caught by a protruding snag, a nasty fall may result.

Knickerbockers with a long cuff, while they give adequate protection, are full above the knee and so, in the same manner as bloomers, are liable to bring about bad falls.

Riding trousers, because of the peculiarity of their cut, seem to me to be most adaptable to woods needs. They hang from the hips, giving perfect freedom at the waist. The fullness at the hips is especially adapted to the feminine figure. Without unnecessary fullness at the knee, they fit either down into or over the stockings, and thus afford protection from cold and mosquitoes. The fitted knee reduces to a minimum the danger of snagging on windfalls.

Riding trousers may be purchased at outfitters and some department stores. There are two objections to the kind usually shown. They are generally designed for riding and are full above the knee. This fullness is apt to snag. They are also made for wear with a corset and so fit snugly at the waist instead of hanging from the hips as do a man’s belted trousers.

The best way I know of to obtain a satisfactory pair is to go to a tailor and either have a pattern cut or a pair made. There are patterns sold by pattern companies, but I have never found these to be satisfactory. In all that I have seen the trousers are full and are held up by a tight cuff below the knee. This cuff, if it is loose enough for comfort, is so loose that the trousers are constantly slipping down.

Riding trousers should be supported, as are a man’s, by the hips and hip-bones. There should be enough fullness at the knee to give freedom. This can be obtained by fitting the trousers in below the knee with darts on the order of the English riding trousers. Darts are better than a cuff as they do away with a bunglesome seam just below the knee. The trousers should continue well down to the ankle. This gives protection from mosquitoes and support for the stockings, if wool stockings are to be worn over them. A good fit at the hips is best obtained by means of darts. Freedom should be obtained by a loosely cut crotch, not by a large seat.

Conditions demanding such a garment demand also durability, and its material should be of the best. In summer, when wool is unnecessary, a good khaki gives excellent service. The real gabardine is better but much more expensive. For fall and spring and winter months in countries of melting snow a good hard-finished, snag-proof wool is best. For winter wear in countries of dry cold good moleskin should be used because of its wind-resisting quality.

Riding trousers allow a variety of modes of dressing from the knee down. As footwear is treated in detail elsewhere in the book, it will receive only brief mention here.

The simplest, and therefore the best, is the soft, hand-knit, woolen stocking which ends just below the knee. This protects from mosquitoes and is the stocking most in keeping with such a costume.

The same effect and protection can be obtained by the use of golf stockings of sufficient height to reach the calf and drawn over ordinary hosiery. But this adds to the sum total of the garments and necessitates some arrangement for holding the lisle stocking over the knee. Or leather puttees or canvas leggings can be worn over the ordinary stocking.

These are rather warm and the fastenings of the leggings are apt to catch brush or snags in woods travel. Or the hunting boot can be worn over the ordinary stocking and of sufficient height to reach just below the knee. This affords excellent protection but is very warm and impractical because a boot fitting above the calf makes ventilation impossible and will often cause sore feet.

Finally, the leg of the trousers may be buttoned down over any kind of footwear. Here I pause, for who am I to judge between the “trousers-in” and the “trousers-over” factions. Times without number have I heard woodsmen describe with glee and graphic detail the rivulets of water and melting snow that are supposed to course down the legs of the “trousers-in” man. And yet I cling tenaciously to the “trousers-in” style of dressing. And shamelessly I confess that it is mainly because the effect is much better to look upon. But, striving to be logical, I always add that I have never experienced rivulets of water and melting snow running into my stockings and that this style of dressing affords support for my socks, without which I would have to add another garment for the accomplishment of this task.

The qualifications of the skirt are largely affected by its importance in the wardrobe. If the out of door woman does not intend to wear a bifurcated garment, she should strive for the greatest freedom in her skirt. For exclusive skirt wear a good combination is a knee length knickerbocker, closely fitted at the knee, and a short skirt which buttons up the entire length back and front. This can be opened for freedom when necessary. I have seen the same effect obtained by slitting the skirt up the side seams with fastenings of buttons and loops. But such a fastening is apt to catch on snags.

If the skirt is intended for wear only when convention demands a skirt, its chief requisites are lightness and convenience in donning. Such a skirt should be opened down the front so that it will not be necessary to slip it over the head. I once got the maximum of service from my “emergency” skirt by having it made of waterproof material and opened down the front. This afforded me either a skirt or a cape in a rain storm and was very useful on my canoe trip of that summer.

Freedom is never obtained by the divided skirt route except in horseback riding. For all other outing activities the amount of material which must be carried about and dragged around obstructions is doubled without increasing appreciably the freedom of movement.

What has been said regarding material for trousers applies equally to skirts, unless the skirt is to be worn only between the train and the canoe. Then, as it requires no wear resisting qualities, the only requisite is lightness in weight.

CHAPTER III
CLOTHING—CONTINUED

It is impossible to give any very definite advice regarding the material or weight of the underwear which is to be worn on outing expeditions without a definite idea of what climate is to be encountered. All that can be done here is to state the advantages of the various materials, for each individual must choose the variety which best suits her particular outing.

No matter what kind of underwear is ultimately agreed upon, let it be simple and easy to keep clean. The union suit is the simplest to don, the most comfortable to wear and the most practical when the absence of a corset makes a trim waist line rather difficult of achievement. Facility in laundering demands a suit of small circumference at the knee. A rather recent contrivance in combinations called the “Always Closed Combination,” is well adapted to out of door wear.

There is a great deal of difference in the ease with which the various cottons can be laundered. Knit lisle and the cotton crepes will become an unattractive yellow in time if not boiled. On the other hand they do not show the result of the absence of the iron. Barred muslins, so commonly used in men’s summer underwear, are the most easily washed and keep white under very adverse conditions.

But the most crucial question regarding underwear lies in the choice between wool and cotton. Because the wearing of woolen underwear is so rare in cities, the suggestion of it as woods underwear is almost invariably met by instantaneous and vigorous protest. There are, however, several seasons and localities which call for woolen underwear in the woods and, before adopting a less satisfactory material, the advantages of wool should be given thoughtful and unprejudiced consideration.

Wool is the most equable of clothing for it is a poor conductor of heat. This means that when one becomes wet, either from perspiration or from rain, wool will not conduct heat from the skin so readily. This characteristic alone makes it the most logical for woods wear when there must be a certain amount of exercise and exposure in wet weather.

This does not mean that the underwear need be the heavy woolen garment which lives so poignantly in our memories of childhood. It may range from the finest, softest, gauziest fabric imaginable, weighing only six ounces a suit, up to as heavy or as thick as is necessary. Its advantage lies in the fact that it is wool, not in its weight.

Summing it up as definitely as it can be summed in a field which covers such various conditions and temperatures, it would seem safe to say that:

In the more southern states where one is going to take violent exercise, suffer sudden changes of temperature, undergo day-long exposure to the weather, or where one is apt to become drenched without any possibility of a change of garments, it would be best to have for such emergencies at least one suit of light weight wool.

In the north woods where one is going to endure day-long exposure to bad weather even in summer, it is best either to wear continuously, or have it at hand, woolen underwear. This should be of an extremely light weight. In fall, spring, and winter woolen underwear must be worn continuously.

Even when the decision is made against wool in the choice of underwear, it should be carefully considered in the selection of material for stockings. Aside from the fact that the feet become wet with greater frequency than the body, there are additional factors which enter into this question.

Heavy outing boots and rough walking will almost invariably cause sore feet if worn with ordinary lisle stockings. A thin cotton causes “scalded” feet. Wool, on the other hand, forms a cushion between the shoe and the foot, absorbs the moisture and saves the wearer from bruises and calli. In warmer countries cashmere will serve, while in the north woods a light weight knit wool sock will be found comfortable. In mosquito countries woolen socks make it possible to wear low, comfortable moccasins or pacs in the evening about camp without suffering the annoyance of insect bites.

And finally, for those who have concern for the general ensemble of the costume, knit woolen stockings alone go logically with riding trousers. Because they can be pulled over the trousers they do away with the necessity of garters. If any difficulty is experienced in holding them up in this manner they may be buttoned onto the trousers. The buttons should be small and few to lessen the possibility of snagging on brush. If the stockings are made of fine yarn and rather loosely knitted they are not as warm as would be imagined.

I am not urging heavy, factory-knit stockings for feet accustomed for years to lisle and silk. I cannot wear them after four years of exclusive use of woolen stockings. But in those four years I have found several grandmothers who not only knit stockings but who are delighted to find anyone who appreciates them. I supplied these women with the softest of gray wool and obtained soft, hard-wearing stockings.

Many people avoid having a heavily ribbed sock next to the skin by wearing lisle stockings under the woolen. In doing so they lose one of the chief advantages of the wool. A light cashmere sock will serve the same purpose and still retain the advantages of the heavy wool.

Except with skirts in the coldest weather, heavy knit stockings cannot be worn over the knees with any comfort. A stocking which ends just below the knee is a convenient height for riding trousers. When worn with a skirt they can be held up by wearing beneath them a pair of usual height, light weight cashmere stockings.

In the more northern states night socks should be carried. There they are indispensable in fall and winter and welcome on many summer nights. Llama wool are the best. The common woolen variety can be used with satisfaction.

The selection of footwear is one of the most important that arises in the woods equipment. Ability to travel the trail depends largely upon the condition of the feet. The condition of the feet depends, in turn, on the proper selection, the comfort and the durability of the footwear. For this reason economy lies only in the purchase of the best. The cost is small compared with the cost of the trip. Yet insufficient footwear and consequent sore feet have ruined many vacations.

Nor can one type of footwear be made to do for all seasons and all kinds of travel. Each type is designed to meet special requirements. What will give perfect comfort in one season will cause foot misery in another.

Woods footwear consists of outing boots, oil tanned, waterproof shoepacs either soled or single, leather topped rubbers, Indian tanned moccasins and sealskin boots.

Outing boots will serve for many seasons and kinds of travel. They are admirable for general wear as they protect the feet in rough going, are waterproof and afford the best foothold on slippery rocks and logs. They will not turn snow water, are rather heavy for continuous wear, and, because of their tight fit, are too cold for winter or for canoeing in the north woods in the fall.

Outing boots should always be of the best quality obtainable, and they should always be built on a woman’s last. A heavy boot is sufficiently trying to most women without adding to the difficulty by purchasing an inflexible affair made on a youth’s last. The leather should be soft. The sole should be all sole and not cheap padding, and it should bend at the ball and not at the instep. Attention to these details will result in the possession of soft, light boots which will be a delight, not a source of annoyance.

Twelve inch shoes usually afford sufficient protection without compelling the wearer to carry about unnecessary weight. If they end below the calf of the leg there is a chance of ventilation, while if they fasten tightly above there is none.

The shoepacs of Maine and Canada are oil tanned and moccasin style. Well made, they are waterproof and almost as flexible as moccasins. They can be obtained in varying heights from slippers up.

Slipper shoepacs are excellent for camp but because of their extremely low cut are impracticable for wear where there is any moisture. Six to ten inches is ideal for canoe wear, as these heights protect the feet in getting into or out of a canoe. For those who can stand the single sole for a limited amount of walking, they serve also on the portage. For those who cannot, they can be obtained with a sole but are then more liable to leak.

Because of their loose fit, shoepacs are excellent for water travel in the colder states in the fall, when boot clad feet would become numb with the cold. In a dry fall they are excellent for still hunting. They cannot be worn in extreme cold, however, because they lose their flexibility and are so slippery they become dangerous.

Shoepacs are not sufficiently heavy to serve in place of outing boots on trips where there will be much tramping, and the unsoled variety is dangerously slippery on wet logs and rocks.

Only the most rigorous care keeps them waterproof. They must be oiled and resewn frequently. The oil in the leather rots the thread, especially if it is carried over from one year to another. It is this objection that has caused one well known manufacturer to withdraw shoepacs from his catalog and to make them only on order. The old time woodsman was always provided with buckskin needle and waxed ends to remedy defective sewing.

Shoepacs are carried in stock by most manufacturers, but they can be obtained almost as cheaply and infinitely better if made to order. A good pair should cost from $3 to $5. These are made upon a last and are of selected leather. The greater durability and the more comfortable fit about the instep will more than repay for the slight additional cost.

So-called moccasin boots, which are a compromise between outing boots and shoepacs, have both advantages and disadvantages. On a canoe trip they can be made to serve both as outing boots and as shoepacs. But by the very addition of the shoe sole they lose the flexibility, and sometimes the waterproof quality, of the shoepacs. Neither, because of the moccasin tops, do they give that snug, well shod feeling of outing boots. The fact that they are neither the one thing nor the other is, to my mind, their greatest disadvantage. But for the woman who desires easy footwear, and to whom her well made outing boots are not a source of pleasure, they might serve very well.

For spring and fall and winter thaws, when melting snows make wet going, leather topped rubbers and sealskin boots are the only things that will turn snow water. The rubbers should be large to allow one or two pairs of heavy woolen socks. They should be of the best make and pure rubber. Canvas shoes, which have the rubber driven into them, are stiff and heavy and not so durable. The toes should be ribbed to protect the shoe from cracks. At no time, however, should rubbers alone be taken into the woods. Their continued wear in a dry spell will invariably result in sore feet.

Sealskin boots have the advantages of rubber and none of their disadvantages. They are made of the hair seal, sewn with walrus sinew, made by the Esquimo and worn almost exclusively by white men from Labrador to Baffin’s Bay. They are waterproof in snow water, exceedingly light, flexible, and tough. Their flexibility permits comfortable wear with snowshoes, something impossible with rubbers. The loose ankle affords good ventilation and so protects the feet from scalding. The flexibility allows circulation and makes them good cold weather boots.

They are, however, hard to obtain. At present they can be purchased only in the country of their manufacture. Mine were obtained from the Hudson’s Bay Company. It is difficult, too, to get them sufficiently small for women. I wear three pairs of socks to fill mine out. But this is not a great handicap in the snow seasons of the north woods.

In a country or season sufficiently cold for dry snow, unoiled, soft leather moccasins are the ideal winter footwear. They are the most adaptable to the snowshoe. Worn with woolen socks they afford a warm dressing, for the pliable, loose moccasin allows perfect circulation and the exercise of every muscle of the foot. Their lightness and flexibility give a spring and a buoyancy to the step obtainable in no other foot covering except the sealskin boots.

Much can be said about their selection. There are two types, factory moccasins which lace, and Indian moccasins which have hide or cloth tops for winding about the ankle. If one can obtain the latter from an Indian who tans well, they are by far the most satisfactory; but the factory products are infinitely better than poorly tanned Indian moccasins, and it is becoming increasingly difficult to find Indian moccasins properly tanned. The best Indian tanners use the brains of the animal in tanning, loosen and pull the hair and grain the skin without destroying the top layer. The poorer Indian tanners do not soften with the brains and remove the hair with a scraping knife. This use of the knife destroys the natural dressing and life of the skin. The result is a hide which soon wears through.

Cloth topped Indian moccasins are preferable to skin topped as the cloth does not stiffen after being wet. I have seen, on the bun-gee o-ge-ma of a village near us, moccasins of caribou with caribou tops so well tanned that they fitted perfectly and remained soft. But the possibility of being able to purchase such a pair is very slight.

There are several good makes of factory moccasins. The most satisfactory I have ever seen were of steam proof horse hide. A wetting did not stiffen them. They outwore several pairs of manufactured “buckskin.”

Few seasons and methods of travel have sufficiently unchanging conditions to permit the exclusive use of one type of footwear. The folly of being miles from civilization with the wrong kind of shoes has been learned with bitterness and suffering, and it is wise to include in the equipment all the types which weather conditions may demand.

A summer trip with some tramping calls for outing boots. It is well to carry a light form of footwear to rest the feet at night. Slipper shoepacs will do for camp wear exclusively. A boot height shoepac will, however, serve the double purpose of canoe and camp shoe.

On fall hunting trips much depends upon the country and the weather conditions. In the more southern states hunting boots will serve. If the expedition be into the north woods for deer or moose, where there will be some melting snow, woods rubbers or sealskin boots should be carried, but almost nowhere can these be worn exclusively, and outing boots should always be carried. For still hunting in the north woods in dry weather there is nothing better than a shoepac.

In the winter in a country of dry snow, moccasins alone should be worn. Where there is any possibility of a thaw, or where the noon sun melts the snow, rubbers or sealskin boots should be available.

Wading through wet snow in moccasins is not a pleasant experience. It has, however, no other bad features. Because of the perfect circulation and freedom for the muscles allowed by moccasins, the feet keep surprisingly warm. With moccasins I have waded all day in winter thaws in Ontario and, so long as I kept moving, experienced no discomfort.

In the spring, when the snow is melting, rubbers or sealskin boots are essential.

A discussion of woods footwear for women would be most incomplete were it to ignore the subject of heels. The ability to go heelless must influence strongly women’s choice. Here in woman’s woodsmanship she must pay the penalty of past illogical dressing. In times when certain classes of women were ornamental rather than useful it became the fashion to proclaim this fact by perching upon high heels, which either developed or simulated a high, fleshy instep. This was, indeed, a most logical method of announcement, for certainly no woman could accomplish a day’s work so shod.

In this age of woman’s progress we may overcome the effects of this folly as we have so many others. By wearing lower heels a few hours each day, one can, in a short time, become accustomed to them. If this is done gradually, the muscles are developed where before there was only flesh, the arch will be strengthened rather than be broken down.

For any woman who is contemplating a trip into the wilderness this is worth while. To attempt a wilderness journey on high heels would be to invite a sprained ankle. Whether, for a short outing, it is an advantage to go further and become accustomed to the heelless shoepac, I have my doubts. It will strengthen the foot and improve the carriage, but it requires the use of a new set of muscles and will cause discomfort for a time. The improvement gained in a few weeks would be quickly lost in the following year of high heels and is not worth, to my mind, any great inconvenience.

The capacity to wear heelless boots is more important in winter than it is in summer. All winter woods footwear is heelless. Moccasins and sealskin boots are perfectly flat, while the heels on rubbers are little or no thicker than the soles. I have known men who could not go heelless to meet this problem with felt shoes. They claimed that they were warm and comfortable. I have never worn them. They are made regularly for women of small northwestern towns and homesteads in Canada.

There are two ways of solving the question of woods hats for women. One method is to supply several to meet varying weather conditions. The other is to find the one that will do for all times. Which is the most satisfactory it is difficult to say, for here enters that intensely feminine trait, a woman’s enjoyment of hats.

My first summer in the woods I wore a felt hat of well known make. It answered admirably all the requisites of a woods hat. It was light, of good felt, had a sufficiently broad brim to keep the sun from my eyes, was waterproof and of the few makes in which the band is not sewn through the hat, thereby prohibiting streams of water from running down my face in a rain storm.

But it was unbecoming. I ought to have been decently grateful to that hat for its splendid service. But that only irritated me the more. I had invested too much money in its purchase to feel that I could throw away a serviceable hat. As it answered all purposes, I could not persuade myself that I needed another. I could not even bring myself to confide in anyone my illogical hatred of that hat. And then one day circumstances came to my aid. My husband’s pet hat developed a hole. We were many days from a store. Our sizes were nearly alike. I magnanimously bequeathed mine to him and tried the other way of having several hats.

I had a soft Panama for sunny days. This was excellent on the water, gave little protection from rain and, when walking in the woods, I found it the greatest nuisance I ever owned. It had none of the clinging qualities of the felt and could not be drawn close to the head for a dash into a thicket. I possessed at the same time a most becoming linen hat which was excellent on a fair day but a bedraggled mess in a rain. To meet this emergency I purchased a rain hat of a patent material with rubber lining which could be rolled into a small ball and carried in the pocket. This gave admirable service in rainy weather and even on cold fall days, but because of its rubber lining it was too hot in the sun.

To wear under my parka in winter I made a blanket cloth cap of the Billie Burke variety, as it was then known.

And then one day I discovered that in all this confusion of hats I was causing myself a great deal of needless trouble in their transportation, care and even in the choice of hats for each expedition. At the same time I found the hat of hats.

It is a French felt, weighs two and one-half ounces and is so soft that it can be rolled into a ball. The felt yields itself to any desired shape and the brim is broad enough to keep the sun from the eyes. It is waterproof. The band is not sewn through the hat. The hat is sufficiently pliable to be becoming to a woman. It costs only four dollars and a half and will wear for years.

And so again I am a firm believer in the one good hat which will serve for all weather. I make an exception only of winter. For this season I have a knitted affair with a heavy silk, removable lining. For wear under my parka I remove the lining. When worn alone, the silk lining is used because of its wind-resisting qualities.

In mosquito and black fly seasons gloves will add greatly to the comfort. The gauntlet variety will be more efficient in protecting the wrists. Woolen gloves should always be provided for fall wear. For winter travel a combination of leather pullovers for wind and inner wool mitts for warmth is most practical. This combination permits the use of one or both to meet changing weather conditions and is more convenient and satisfactory than leather mittens with wool linings. It is almost impossible to dry the latter. If both mittens have gauntlets the wrists are perfectly protected.

The choice of coats is one which is influenced perhaps more than anything else by conditions governing the trip. In the more southern states a good khaki or fine woolen cloth coat will give ample protection. It should be of roomy cut around the armholes and either not fitted at all or only semi-fitted at the chest and waist. Big pockets are a convenience, likewise a collar big enough to turn up in rain storms. The shorter lengths are most practical. There is something very attractive about the straight lined, three quarter riding coat, but it is not adaptable to most woods activities.

For the more northern states and Canada there is nothing, even in summer, which gives greater satisfaction than a mackinaw coat. In that region temperatures not demanding a coat can usually be met by a change of shirts, while the mackinaw provides protection against the sudden, intense cold possible at any time in summer in the north woods.

The mackinaw also affords protection from rain. A good coat of this material will increase in thickness to twice its original bulk and still keep the wearer dry. But to do this it must be of the best all-wool mackinaw and not one of the cheaper cotton felts given a deceiving roughness by the admixture of a few woolen threads.

Sweaters are a convenience. On some outings in the more southern states they will sometimes afford all the protection necessary. If one is not restricted in the amount of duffle, a sweater is a gratifying thing to have for cool evenings anywhere. It is the best garment under oil skins on water. The usual sweater does not, however, protect from the wind. An old woodsman friend, in discussing sweaters, once said:

“Lots of people like them. I got one once and wore it on a canoe trip when the wind was blowing. And say, do you know I might just as well have had on a coat of laths.”

I have an out of door garment the lightness of which has always made it a most gratifying part of my equipment. It is a stag shirt of the very best mackinaw. A stag shirt is a garment evolved by the lumberjacks of the north woods. It is made like a very large shirt cut off squarely around the hips. It gives warmth and yet in no way impedes the movements. For fall trips, when a light, warm garment is necessary all day, I always wear my stag shirt. For winter wear under my parka I have found nothing that answers so well. Indeed, if I were forced to give up one of my outer garments, I do not know which I should part with, my mackinaw or my shirt. The coat, to be sure, is the trimmest. There is nothing about a stag shirt’s appearance to commend it. But for all day wear that same quality, the additional warmth at no cost of freedom, which made it beloved by the lumberjack, endears it to the woodswoman.

Oilskins are pleasant luxuries for wear about camp or in boats when no physical exercise will make them too warm. Because of their lack of ventilation they cannot be worn with comfort while canoeing, walking through the woods, or taking part in any strenuous physical activity. If there is no reason for a light equipment, however, their comfort might repay for their transportation.

Outer clothing for winter travel presents a problem. To gain sufficient protection from the cold garments may become so burdensome as to make any movement a real exertion. Furthermore, it is impossible to obtain complete protection from the wind with woolen garments. This is especially true on exposed stretches.

To meet this condition we civilized the parka of Alaska. At least, attired in them we convulsed the inhabitants of the small Ontario settlement near which we live. But even as they laughed they admitted that they were “the clear rig,” and one woman remembered that in the old days before the railroad came all the men wore parkas of bed ticking.

The real fur trimmed parka is purchasable in the west, where it is made for the Alaskan trade. But we were able to make our own of good quality of canvas, and they serve our purpose admirably. Using illustrations of Alaskan stories for models and an old shirt for a pattern, we cut a loose garment which reached to the knees and the back of which was continued into a hood. These we wore over ordinary winter clothes and stag shirt and were comfortable in forty-five below weather. And the comfort was obtained without a weight of clothing which would make exercise impossible.

Night garments must, of course, be of a variety easy to keep clean. For women who do not find pajamas comfortable there is nothing better than a union suit of underwear or a one-piece sleeping garment. Men’s underwear will be found more roomy. The one-piece garment is, however, because of its bulk, difficult to launder. Many women who cannot wear pajamas in the usual fashion can eliminate the break at the waist and make the draw string comfortable by tucking the coat inside the trousers.

The material of the pajamas is determined by the country in which the outing is taken. It should be remembered, however, that tent sleeping requires a heavier garment than is needed in a house, as in a tent the element of dampness must be considered. Cotton absorbs moisture and often the tent sleeper finds her night garments a damp, clammy mass. For that reason, all wool or wool and silk is greatly to be preferred.

The cotton in flannelet makes it impractical for comfortable outdoor sleeping. There are zephyr-like, all-wool flannels which can be worn with comfort in the warmer states. In the north woods warm night garments are a necessity if one is to eliminate that uncomfortable expedient of sleeping in the day garments for warmth.

Whatever the expedition may be, the choice of woods clothing should be made with discretion. Whether conditions of the going demand economy in equipment or not, the way of enjoyment lies along the path of simplicity. Rather than the selection of any garment to meet one condition, a choice should be made of one which will average well in all conditions.

The watchwords of women’s woods clothing, practicability, durability, simplicity, and compactness, do not sound so alluring, perhaps, as the latest cry from the fashion magazine, but they contain a fascination far more subtle, far more lasting. And, when one has gone forth logically and efficiently clad, and has seen her clothes meet the tests of the wilderness, has come warm, dry, unbitten and untorn through days of cold, rain, mosquitoes, and snags, she feels at the sight of her woods clothing that same warm glow of affection that one feels for any tested friend who, too, has been a chum in adventure.

CHAPTER IV
PACKS AND ACCESSORIES

In the care of all the little accessories which make an outing both comfortable and interesting, feminine woodsmanship need make no apologies. Woman’s love of order is a quality always found in a good woodsman. This is but the logical outcome of conditions. Both act as the custodians of the implements and machinery of daily life. Both know from experience that only by keeping the equipment clean and in its right place can the tasks made necessary by our dependence upon a place to sleep, clothes to wear and three meals a day be made easy. The town man, by his freedom from these considerations, has often failed to develop this attention to trivial details which stands one in such good stead where all the impedimenta of life are carried about in a few bundles.

The selection of the small cases and bags is fascinating and tempting. The woman who has not hung spellbound over a showcase or the pages of a catalog, while she gazed upon all the little receptacles and boxes which contained every known or imagined need of a camper, has missed an experience which she should at once make her own. One of the most delightful memories of a winter in town is of the late afternoon gatherings in a sportsman’s store of a score of woods lovers. There was no prearrangement in these meetings. It was only the accidental assembling of outing enthusiasts who expressed their longing for the woods in the handling of woods equipment.

Under the spell of the enchanting stock, which made vivid all the memories of past woods adventures, many a bit of equipment was purchased which could be used only in the collection of woods duffle which town woodsmen keep to dream over. But the impracticable purchase brings here none of the bitterness of other fields, and I firmly believe that many an ingenious, visionary woods trifle justifies its existence solely in its imagination arousing power. I have never seen a folding rubber wash basin on the pages of a sporting goods catalog without wanting one. Neither, except in winter, have I ever camped more than a few feet from the water’s edge. But some day, when we leave the woods for the greater part of the year, it will be one of the things I will put in my woods collection, which I will have to take out on long evenings, to handle fondly while I imagine myself filling it on some cedar bordered shore. Yet I know in my heart that this particular picture will never be true in the woods.

Of such things are our dream equipments made. Here alone the stern tests of practicability need never check the impulsive desire.

Unless the pocketbook permits the purchase of equipment with no idea of ultimate use on an outing, visits to store and catalog must be made with caution. Many of these bewitching cases are practical. A far larger number are made for sale rather than use. And while the real woodsman may often be found dallying over an assortment of smart little cases, that same woodsman, when he goes into the woods, will be distinguished for the simplicity of his equipment and the absence of all unnecessary duffle.

Those bags which are designed to meet individual needs are the most convenient. The greater part of them can be made at home just as efficiently and far more cheaply. They are necessary to keep the small bits of equipment where they may be carried and found easily. Convenience demands that articles which will be used at the same time should be in the same bag. This may usually be made of any waterproof, durable material, fitted with pockets and of a construction that permits being rolled up. One bag should contain all the toilet necessities so that a complete toilet can be made whenever the time and the water’s edge are convenient.

Another fitted roll can contain all the general articles that may be used on a rainy day in camp or a long wait on a portage. In such a roll I carry a pack of cards, a note book, pencil and letter writing materials. The third bag, the sewing kit, if made at home can be fitted up to meet the requirements and industry of the camper. I confess that mine contains an assortment of safety pins ranging from the tiny variety to the large blanket size, waxed ends, buckskin needles and needles and thread necessary to meet only the most imperative sewing demands. I know, however, a very efficient woodswoman who does beautiful Irish crochet in the evenings before her tent door.

A medicine case is more easily purchased than made. There are many types on the market, those with vials alone and those with vials and instruments combined.

A medicine case is one of the things which should be fitted to meet the individual fears and needs. One may provide against all contingencies which her imagination can picture, or she may prepare only for the more usual and expected maladies and accidents. Our own kit is an illustration of the latter. It contains a purge, a laxative, a bowel astringent, an intestinal antiseptic, bichloride of mercury, surgeons’ plaster, bandages, cotton, absorbent gauze, surgeons’ needle and silk, a hypodermic needle, strychnine and morphine.

This could be made more complete by the addition of medicine for one’s pet ailments, clinical thermometer, splinter forceps, artery forceps, surgical scissors, lancet, rubber tourniquet, artery clamps and styptic cotton.

We have never, however, in more than 3,500 miles of canoe travel and four years of continuous woods life, had use for more than the intestinal correctives and the surgeons’ plaster. Only twice have we ever used the hypodermic needle. The first time was to quiet a sledge dog so that we could remove the porcupine quills with which his head and mouth were filled. The second was to ease the pain of the cat when she was caught in our bear trap. The only use of the surgeons’ needles and silk has been to sew up a dog when he came into camp with a badly lacerated leg.

One of the best methods of becoming “of the party,” not “with it,” is to know the route and the general geographical features of the country. Then the journey through the wilderness becomes a trip of well understood direction and purpose, not merely a vague wandering through mystifying lakes and rivers and past confusing islands and points. If the map of the party is not at all times available, a woman will assure herself much additional interest if she provides her own map.

There are many map cases on the market from the waterproof envelope to the case used by the French army, which has a celluloid cover. This, of course, is the best, for it makes possible the study of a map in the rain. A very good map case can be made at home. The envelope should be of waterproof canvas to fit the dissected map. A thin board or piece of shingle slipped into an extra compartment stiffens the case.

Pockets in outing clothes will serve as cases which are always with one. In them can be carried a watch, knife, compass, and a watertight match box. Naturally the pockets of a coat are impracticable for the transportation of valuable bits of equipment. And so the woodswoman should see that either her riding trousers or her skirt has large, closable, accessible pockets. Too often manufacturers seem to believe that the pockets of women’s clothes are for ornamentation alone and furnish those which, if in a man’s clothing, would drive him to justifiable homicide.

The pocket-knife should be of good steel and of sufficient proportions to serve in any woods emergency. Never wear a hunting knife in a belt. Colonel Bowie has been dead a great many years. It is both inconvenient and dangerous, even when well sheathed.

A camera should go on every outing. It is best to have a waterproof case for both camera and films, though the latter may be purchased in watertight cases. The ordinary roll film can be kept dry in a push top tin.

As leather absorbs moisture, leather camera cases are unsatisfactory. I have seen advertised a rubber case for cameras. A good case can be made at home of heavy, waterproof canvas. We have found a convenient form to be a long bag made to fit over the camera. This opens at one end and is tied with a string.

If a developing tank is carried, the photographer can discover if she is making any mistakes in time and light allowances and rectify them. A tank is especially valuable in the north woods, where the actinic value of the light is much less than farther south and may lead to under exposure.

Binoculars will make the trip more interesting. Often what to the naked eye is only a dark, moving object will, with glasses, afford an intimate view of some animal seldom seen by woods travelers.

If one experience any discomfort from the sun on the water or snow, colored glasses should be carried. These are obtainable in various grades from the ordinary amber lens to the special large outdoor glass of ground amber with flexible nose piece.

In gathering together her woods outfit, the camper should assure herself that she has provided a place for all the little things. If she does this, the bottom of her packsack will never be an irritating medley of small bits of equipment which, because they are so hard to find, will never be used. Especially should she guard well that her woods zeal does not lead to the provision of too many of these little things. A great need usually provides its own solution, and in the woods as nowhere else necessity mothers invention.

CHAPTER V
PACKING AND PORTAGING

The only woods expeditions into which the question of packing will enter are walking and canoe trips. The former will be taken in civilized districts, not too far from a base of supplies, and will not demand the heavy carrying occasioned by a portage in the wilderness.

On the latter, unless a woman is unusually strong, her share of the packing will be very slight. An ordinarily healthy woman in good condition should be able to carry forty pounds across any but an unusually long portage.

Since her share of the packing is so small, any very vehement discussion of the advantages and disadvantages of the tump line and packsack methods would be rather absurd. No chapter on packing would be complete, however, without at least a notice of a question which will rend peaceful camps, alienate guides’ affections, and change loving brother woodsmen into belligerent antagonists.

In a choice between these two methods, novice woodswomen are at a disadvantage. Hardened woodsmen can dismiss the question as I once heard it dismissed by a guide who said:

“It ain’t what’s the right way o’ packing. It’s the way you’re used to that makes the difference.”

Few women can claim a set of muscles developed for one particular kind of packing, so, if we will pack, we must look the question fairly in the face and unflinchingly make our choice. I will try to state with fairness and without prejudice the arguments of the two camps.

The “tump liners” say that packing by head strap is the method of old Hudson’s Bay Company packers and so obtain for their side the weight of every true woodsman’s romantic conception. They follow this with the fact that the head strap, by the use of the blanket roll, can be adapted to any variety of articles. They clinch and rest their case with a description of the manner in which a burden is borne when supported by a head strap. The load rests just above the hips, or on them, and the strap comes on top of the head just ahead of the ears. In this way the pull of the load is directly transmitted through the vertebrae to the pelvis. This gives a balance which is easily maintained and a pull best adapted for support by the body.

The packsackers answer that their method is not new, only unknown, because it reached perfection in the Minnesota woods where little publicity was given the expert woodcraft that there came into being. They state that the tump line was used by the Hudson’s Bay Company packers because it was best adapted to the bales of fur and food which formed the usual loads.

They affirm that the packsack is easier to pack and its contents more accessible than the blanket roll or duffle bag. They call attention to the fact that a man carrying a packsack has his head free for looking about and that this makes it best adapted to the woods. And they maintain, finally, that packsack packing is best for occasional and unaccustomed packers. The tump line requires a strong set of neck muscles which must be developed and kept in condition. The packsack, with head strap attached, distributes the responsibility for the load over hip, back, shoulder and neck muscles and so is easier on all.

As any kind of packing is hard and wearying work, I decided to belong to the occasional and unaccustomed packer class and not to develop and keep in condition a set of strong neck muscles which might lead me into all sorts of packing difficulties.

I was confirmed in my choice by two additional factors. Long waits in camp for the “impedimenta to bring up the rear” had taught me the value of having my personal duffle with me. I resolved that my packing would consist of my personal belongings. These were more conveniently kept in a packsack than in a duffle bag or a blanket roll.

The last, and, to my mind, the most important deciding factor was a condition peculiar to feminine woodcraft. With a packsack I was able to let down the shoulder straps until I could pull my load around to the side and rest it on one hip. This is one of the easiest methods for a woman to carry a burden. Woman’s hips are at a greater angle to the spinal column than are a man’s. They are broader and rounder. Prehistoric women carried their children on their hips, and African women do to-day.

These are the factors that led me to the camp of the packsack devotees. Others might lead you to different conclusions.

The adoption of the packsack method makes impossible the use of the cylindrical duffle bag. This would seem to me to be one of the strongest arguments in its favor. With a vivid memory of the number of times I have had to turn a duffle bag upside down because the thing I wanted was at the bottom, and the only way to get it was to take out the entire contents, it is rather hard for me to be fair to this type of sack.

The duffle bag is waterproof and, when filled with the dishes and cooking equipment made to fit it, and all of which will be used at the same time, I can see its usefulness. As a receptacle for the equipment it has always seemed to me to be most inconvenient. To get at its contents it must be entirely unpacked, while, with the wide mouthed packsack, anything in the bag can usually be reached.

The packsack can be obtained in three sizes and three grades and also in a boys’ size, 18x24 inches. The best grade will more than repay in durability and in its leather head and shoulder straps for the slight additional cost. Cloth straps become stringy and cut.

For the woman who wishes to pack the merest trifles, a haversack will serve. It can be fitted with shoulder straps so that it may be carried on the back. But this contrivance saves very little in weight over the boys’ packsack and does not possess its elasticity or strength.

It would be well for every woman at least once to have packed a heavy load across a portage. In that way as in no other she can grasp the point of view of the man who has a long, heavy carry before him or who is straining under a big load down the last lap of a portage; and having grasped it she will obtain a knowledge of feminine propriety on a portage which will make her a joy rather than an irritation to her fellow campers.

If she has ever expended what has seemed to her the last ounce of strength and reached the trail’s end with only one idea, and that to put her burden in its place as soon as possible, she will never again establish herself at the other end of the portage where everyone must stumble over her in reaching the canoe with his load.

She should always be aware of an impending portage far enough in advance to gather any small trifles she may possess and to be prepared to leave the canoe at once with her personal belongings. Portaging is not a sufficiently entertaining task to a man to have it needlessly prolonged by having to wait for a woman to climb leisurely out of the craft, and there are usually enough pieces of duffle to be lifted from the canoe without adding a woman’s hat, coat, gloves, etc.

A woman can make herself of value in portaging if she assumes responsibility for any small pieces of equipment which cannot be carried in the general packs. This leaves the men’s hands free for transporting the larger pieces of duffle. It puts upon one the responsibility of seeing that the odds and ends, which are so often left behind, cross every portage.

If she wishes to write her name in letters of gold in the memories of the toilers, let her have waiting for them at the other end of the portage a pot of tea. Not afternoon tea, but strong, black, invigorating tea, for the charred tea sticks that mark the portages of the north woods are a mute tribute to this potent beverage. Under its spell the portage becomes, not a commonplace stretch of toil, but a trail of witchery and enchantment that arouses the romantic imagination dwelling in us all.

CHAPTER VI
TENTS AND CAMP MAKING

As the tent is the usual abode of all outers, it is only logical that in a book on woodcraft a discussion of its selection and erection, and that kindred subject, camp making, should occupy a large part of the book. I have hesitated to do this in a book on woodcraft for women because only under unusual circumstances will women either erect or select the tent. Its selection will be governed by the type of journey, size of party, and desires of those who will be responsible for the tent’s erection.

Every out of door woman should know, however, the various types of tents and their principal advantages and disadvantages for various seasons of the year and methods of travel. By turning to the pages of any good sportsman outfitter’s catalog she will see illustrated the “A,” or wedge shape, the baker, the lean-to, the miners’, the conical and all the adaptations made by combinations of these types. Their points may be summed up briefly as follows:

The “A” tent, the most common form, gives good head room, permits utilization of all the floor space and requires three or five poles for its erection. The canoe tent and the Hudson Bay tent are adaptations designed to cut down weight without sacrificing floor space. They do not afford so much head room but may be erected more easily.

The miners’ tent can be erected with two poles, gives good head room, sheds rain and wind excellently and is probably best adapted to canoe journeys, where ease and quickness of erection are important factors. The baker tent has straight sides, a roof sloping toward the rear, a low wall behind and the entire front open. The flap which closes the front may be erected as an awning and the cooking fire built under it. This tent is not easily or quickly erected.

The conical tent is much like the miners’ except that the floor space is round instead of square. The wall tent, adaptable only for permanent camps, is built like an “A” tent except that it has walls two or three feet high on each side. This affords splendid head room, complete utilization of floor space and a more “house-like” interior. But these advantages are not worth the additional weight for anything except a permanent camp.

The tent fly is another permanent camp feature not worth while on a canoe trip. The space between the fly and the tent keeps the heat of the sun from the interior and the fly insures complete protection from any rain storm. The fly can be extended out past the tent in front to form a porch beneath which cooking may be done or a table set.

Tent materials are varied. The old canvas tent is no longer used for anything except large, permanent camps. So-called balloon silk and the various trade names for light, waterproof cotton afford complete protection and lightness. Shelters for two have been reduced to three pounds, ideal for walking trips. Colors have also been changed from the eye-blinding, insect-attracting white to khaki and green. The last is particularly pleasing.

Any tent used on a trip on which camp is changed every day should have a floor cloth sewed to the tent on the sides and back. This should be waterproof and as light as possible. Such an arrangement permits the pitching of the tent on wet ground, the building of the bed beneath the floor, thus keeping the interior clean, and is a perfect protection from insects and reptiles. Some use a floor cloth, laid inside the tent after its erection, but this fails to have the advantages of the sewed-in arrangement.

So many considerations enter into the selection of a shelter that definite rules are difficult. If camp is to be maintained in one place, weight, size and ease in erecting do not matter, and the maximum in comfort should be sought. If camp is to be moved every day, ease in erecting and lightness are the determining factors. On a canoe trip a tent is used only for sleeping and no effort should be made to provide useless floor space or head room.

For fall camping the lean-to is best. If there are long stops the baker tent is suitable. This style is open across the front. There are then no insects to make this a disadvantage, while a big fire may be built directly in the door of the tent and warm the entire interior. For winter trips, where camp is moved daily, the lean-to affords the most easily erected shelter and a big fire in front keeps the sleepers comfortable.

All summer tents should be equipped with insect proof doors either of mosquito netting, bobbinet, or cheese cloth. In the north woods neither bobbinet nor mosquito netting will do; only cheese cloth will keep out all the midges and small mosquitoes. Such a door may be fastened to the peak and tucked in around the sides and beneath the floor at night, the most satisfactory way, or it may be sewed to the door of the tent all around, entrance being gained through a hole closed with a puckering string. The novice must use particular care in the selection of a shelter which is perfectly insect proof or the first night in camp may turn her from the wilderness forever.

In the selection of insect excluding devices one thing must not be forgotten. A big fire in the door of the tent is welcomed many times in cold or wet weather in summer. The tent door should not in any way interfere with throwing the entire shelter open to the blaze.

If a woman understands the requirements of a good camping spot she may often help in realizing the possibilities of sites which are being passed when camping time is near. Fly and mosquito seasons demand a spot exposed to the breeze on all sides except when a storm is threatening. Then the shelter of small poplar or birch will give some protection. A tent should never be pitched where tall timber or dead stubs can fall upon it in a storm. Special precaution against this danger is necessary in summer, when the strongest winds prevail.

After fly season spruce and poplar thickets afford clean, pleasant places. These are more delightful when back of sand beaches. A tent should never be pitched directly upon a sand beach. Sand sifts quickly into bed, clothing, and food.

In late fall and winter camp in a dense spruce thicket can be made very warm and cozy.

High ground for the tent will do away with the necessity of ditches and prevent water from running under the tent in a rain storm.

Camp sanitation is influenced by the length of the stay. One night stands do not require the campaigns against fly breeding made imperative by a week’s stay, but refuse can be burned very easily and no camper should leave a filthy spot for those who may follow.

In permanent camps sanitary measures will repay in the abatement of the fly nuisance. The sanitation of army camps in the United States is very illuminating, though rather rigorous for the vacationist. However, if refuse is burned, tin cans are buried and all possible maggots destroyed by pouring lime or lye on the human excrement every four days, the camp will not be a breeding place for mosquitoes and flies. In a stay of any length it will be worth while to build a fly proof vault.

The most important furnishing for the tent is the bed. This should be comfortable as the individual understands comfort and as the nature of the trip best permits.

In a permanent camp reached by some vehicle almost any kind of a cot or springs may be used. There are several varieties of folding cots, camp beds or stretcher beds made for this purpose. Some of them fold up into a surprisingly compact bundle, while others consist only of a piece of heavy canvas through which poles can be run. On a traveling trip, where weight and bulk must be considered, the inflatable air mattress will provide a comfortable bed. It should be of the quilted variety, as the single air bag does not offer a flat surface and is slippery. Such bags weigh from nine pounds up.

A less expensive substitute for these beds can be devised from an empty bag made of ticking. This, when stuffed with leaves or browse, affords a fairly comfortable mattress. A pillow may be provided in the same way from a bag of ticking smaller than a pillow slip. This can be utilized for carrying clothing during the day and at night can be converted into a pillow by stuffing it with leaves, browse, pine needles, or clothing.

In the pine country the balsam bough bed, correctly made, provides the cheapest, most comfortable, and most easily obtainable arrangement and requires no carrying at all. Where balsam or spruce are not available, any of the evergreens except cedar will serve acceptably. Cedar is flat and has no springy qualities. Willow tops of first year growth can be used.

Any woman can learn to make such a bed. The larger branches are placed upon the ground first with the bow sides up. This gives the bed resiliency. The bows are in turn thatched with the smaller branches, beginning at the top and working toward the foot. The soft top of one branch should always cover well the butt of the preceding branch. Do not ever, as an afterthought, throw upon the bed any unused branches for they have a way of seeking out one’s most sensitive spot and serving all night as reminders of careless work.

The furnishings of such a bed are blankets. If there is no waterproof floor in the tent a sheet of some waterproof material should be laid first to keep out moisture. The lightest and most expensive blankets are made of camel’s hair or llama wool. For all ordinary camping sheep’s wool blankets in sufficient quantity to keep warm will not be found too heavy. The best of these are the Hudson’s Bay Company’s famous four point blankets first made for the use of its servants in the northland. Since the new tariff law became effective they can be imported into the United States quite cheaply. There are two sizes adaptable for camping. The four point weighs twelve pounds and, doubled, is seven and a half feet long by six feet wide. The three and a half point weighs ten pounds, but, being smaller, it is of the same thickness. There are imitations of these blankets. All sold by the Hudson’s Bay Company, established in 1670, bear its famous seal which was first adopted by the “gentlemen adventurers trading into Hudson’s Bay.”

Never consider cotton blankets or quilts for an outing. Cotton is heavy and, when wet, clammy.

The only sleeping bag that is practicable is the one made of llama wool. It weighs three and a half pounds and allows the moisture to leave the body. Its price makes it prohibitive for most campers.

Waterproof sleeping bags are heavy. Because they are made of waterproof material and retain moisture, the blankets are damp by morning. If the bag is to be kept sanitary and warm it must be taken apart and dried every day. With a tent as a shelter, a waterproof bag is not necessary.

A very good substitute, or, rather, a home constructed bag, can be made by putting blankets into a bag of light weight ticking. This is not waterproof and permits moisture from the body to leave the bag, yet it keeps the bedding tucked in at the sides and feet.

The furniture for the tent and camp is limited only by pocketbook, method of transporting the duffle, and enthusiasm in camp erection. There is sufficient variety of camp equipment on the market to make any tent abode equal to a summer home in its luxurious appointments. Every sportsman’s store shows them. There are collapsible couch hammocks, folding camp beds, chairs, tables, shelves, stools, bathtubs, buckets, washstands, basins, candlesticks, lighting and cooking outfits and lamps. The wildest flights of imagination could desire no more.

Almost every one of these contrivances can be duplicated in just as convenient form without the collapsible feature by a little ingenuity, some canvas and the articles at hand in any woods, and in so doing the contrivers have the satisfaction of knowing that they have come nearer the true woods life. They have carved out for themselves a home in the wilderness, not merely transported city luxuries to the woods.

Where birch bark is available and camp is to be in one place long enough to make it worth while, cupboards, candlesticks, basins, baskets, washstands, and pantries can be made of this pliable material. A visit to any Indian’s permanent summer wigwam is a revelation in the ingenious ways in which it can be utilized.

A wall pocket as a receptacle for the “little things,” which can be rolled up with its contents or hung up in the tent, is a great convenience. The pockets should be large enough to hold the smaller pieces of wearing apparel.

The purchase of the tent appointments should be conducted with caution lest the enthusiast discover, on her expedition into the open, that she has sold her freedom for a mess of equipment. It is as true of camp life as of anywhere else that the multiplication of possessions means the diminution of freedom, and in the open it is the more lamentable, for there as nowhere else the attainment of freedom is within one’s power. Any woman who has once gone into the wilderness with a tent, a blanket and a few cooking dishes will never willingly add one jot to her possessions. To one so unencumbered is granted that great boon of wilderness travel—the ability to go where she pleases, when she pleases, and on the moment’s inspiration.

CHAPTER VII
COOKING UTENSILS, FIRES, AND FOODS

The selection of camp cooking utensils is easier and less prone to lead to the acquisition of useless contrivances if it is made after some experience in cooking over a camp fire and in packing together the cooking equipment. Otherwise, home cooking principles may lead a woman far astray. If the selection must be made without experience, it should be conducted with a regard for durability, compactness, and convenience in handling.

There are a bewildering number of assembled sets on the market. Aluminum are the lightest and most expensive. Acid foods may be cooked and kept in them. Plates, cups, and bowls in this ware are impossible as they become too hot to hold, handle or drink from.

Steel sets, strongly made and stamped from one piece, thus being seamless, are heavier. Acid foods cannot be kept in them. Both steel and tin cups and plates are hard to keep clean and are distasteful to many. Most tin utensils have the further disadvantage of soldered seams.

Because of the advantages and disadvantages of the various sets, I believe a more satisfactory selection can be made by the purchase of odd pieces as they meet individual needs and pocketbook.

The general equipment consists of pails for kettles and pots, frying pans, plates, cups, and cutlery. Aluminum pails are by far the best. They are easy to keep clean, light, durable, and, as they will not rust or corrode, acid food can be cooked and kept in them. They are sold in sets that nest.

Steel pails are strong and durable and can be obtained in nesting sizes, but acid foods cannot be kept in them. They are not as easy to keep clean as aluminum, but they are less expensive. A set of oval pails is made in Duluth for timber cruisers which is very satisfactory. The shape permits packing more snugly in a packsack.

Enamel ware pails can be obtained in different sizes so that they will nest. They are heavy but have all the advantages of this ware. They are not so convenient as pails made in sets for exclusive camp use, and it is difficult to obtain them with tight covers.

A pail will serve as a coffee or tea pot. There are, however, coffee and tea pots with folding handle, hinged cover and spout and body in one piece. This pot will fit in one of the cooking pails.

Steel is the only practicable material for a frying pan. It may be purchased with a patent, folding handle into which a stick can be fitted. An ordinary frying pan can be converted into a camping pan very easily. Any tinsmith will cut off the handle two inches from the pan and rivet a broad loop of iron to this. If the band is square the pan will not turn on the stick.

An aluminum plate is impracticable, as hot food makes it too hot to hold. Tin plates are hard to keep clean and are distasteful to some. Enamel plates are easy to keep clean but heavier than other material. It seems to me, however, that the difference in weight is overcome by the general superiority of the enamel plate.

Aluminum cups are impossible. Tin cups are affected by the tannic acid in tea, causing a disagreeable taste for some people. These cups may be obtained with handles free at the bottom so that they will nest. Enamel cups which nest are without handles.

Aluminum pans with or without folding handles can be obtained which will fit into cooking kettles. They are useful for mixing and serving, though only one is necessary.

Steel knives are satisfactory in every way except that they will rust. They can be cleaned easily by running them into the earth.

Either white metal or aluminum forks and spoons are satisfactory. An aluminum cooking spoon conducts heat too readily to be handled. A long handled cooking spoon and fork should always be included in an outfit. Boiler rings will convert two kettles into a double boiler. This is sometimes useful, though a few pebbles will serve the same purpose and do not have to be carried.

A wooden salt shaker with a tight cover is a great convenience. Friction top tins of various sizes are invaluable for carrying cooked foods, lards, and butter. Air-tight tin caddies should be provided for coffee and tea. Grease-proof bags for pork and waterproof bags for all other foods are a necessity.

The method of packing the utensils depends upon the selection. Assembled sets are made to pack in a specified way and to fit into a specified receptacle. The woman who has assembled her own set with any degree of foresight can provide her own cases.

The cups should nest in the smallest pails and the pails nest together. These should be slipped into a flat-bottomed, heavy canvas bag which can be made or purchased. This keeps the kettles from blackening other duffle.

The plates can be placed in the frying pan, which is, in turn, slipped into a flat canvas bag. The cutlery should be carried in a pocketed canvas roll which can be pegged to a tree in camp. Assembled sets are generally so constructed that everything nests and is packed in one bag.

If there is to be an occasion for broiling meat a camp grate will serve admirably as a broiler and, if one wishes, will support kettles or frying pan. Fire irons which serve only as supports for cooking utensils are less convenient and more apt to tip over. To use either means that a piece of equipment is carried about which could be devised quickly at any camping place. Rocks, logs, tea sticks, and material for cranes are always at hand.

Any camper who will be dependent upon open fire cooking for any length of time should include a folding baker in the outfit. These are of aluminum and of tin. The first are lighter. The tin ones will serve very satisfactorily, are cheaper and do not bend so easily. The reflecting surfaces of a baker must be kept clean. If the sides of a baker form a peak at the rear, the angle of the two sides is too obtuse for efficient baking. There should be a wall of two or three inches at the back.

In the fire and in the regulation of the distance between the fire and the baker lies the secret of success with this utensil. Never try to bake anything with a straggly, indecisive fire. Preferably a baking fire should have a backing to throw the heat forward and andirons upon which to build it. These may be rocks or green logs of slow burning wood. The firewood should be laid on the andirons parallel to the baker and so arranged that a wall of flame will run up the front and afford a steady heat. Coals that drop down between the andirons will throw their heat directly into the baker.

Woods that crackle and throw cinders, such as spruce, tamarack, cedar, and balsam, do not make good baking fires. The heat should be regulated by moving the baker toward or away from the fire, not by changing the fire.

Every woodswoman should learn the essentials of fire making. She should be able to make a fire easily and to distinguish between the varieties of woods. Only by knowing their possibilities will she be able to choose her materials.

There are in various text books on woodcraft and camping many designs for fire building. Some are sufficiently simple to be grasped after a careful reading, while others can be followed only by aid of a blue print and mystic rites. I confess to a most bewildered, helpless feeling when I read them.

There are, however, as the foundation of all these designs, three basic principles. Having grasped them, one can build according to the designs of others, her own, or no design at all. That will depend entirely upon her artistic desires. The three principles carried out will give the fire.

First, dry fire building materials are necessary. Second, every fire requires plenty of air. Third, the currents of air should be able to get in at the bottom and rush upward.

A fire can be started with birch bark, a dry piece of fat pine, or dry, sound twigs. Fat pine is obtained from an old stub or pine knot. Sound, dry twigs can always be broken from the lower branches of trees. Dead standing willow, alder, or poplar are good. Never pick twigs off the ground. Even though they seem to be dry, they are invariably wet or rotten.

Kindling is easily made by shaving down a dry stick, leaving one end of the shavings attached. Birch bark, if available, is the quickest and easiest kindling obtainable.

Build up the material so that air can rush in at the bottom and climb upward through it. An easy way is to stand the sticks on end, letting them lean on each other at a common center. Never build a large cooking fire. It is uncomfortable to work over and unnecessary.

There are a few main facts about woods that every camping woman should know. Pines, especially the most resinous, blacken kettles and give off soot. Spruce, balsam, tamarack, and cedar throw sparks into the food. Hardwoods have the quality of a lasting fire and good coals.

Paper birch windfalls are very deceiving. The bark holds the moisture, and even though a piece appear to be dry, it is usually wet and rotten.

Dry poplar gives a clean, hot fire with almost no smoke. It can be obtained from a windfall that has been held free from the ground and from which the bark has split and fallen off. It is the most satisfactory cooking wood.

If dry hardwoods are not available, fair coals can be obtained by burning a quantity of green wood, preferably birch. This takes some time, and the coals are not so lasting.

The greatest aids to successful fire building are interest and practice. And no one should delay her first fire until a fire must be made. Occasions may arise in the woods when a woman is left to her own resources, and no woodswoman worthy of the name should be unable to meet them successfully.

For a lunch stop, when there is little to cook, a tea stick will hold the kettle over the blaze. These are in place at the ends of almost every portage in the north woods. It is made by thrusting a green stick into the ground so that it extends over the fire at an angle of about forty-five degrees. It can be propped over a log or rock. A notch at the end will keep the kettle from slipping down. Moving the prop will raise or lower the kettle.

For anything more than a “one meal stand,” a cooking crane will be worth while. Set up two green, crotched sticks about four feet apart. The crotches may be as low as two feet, but a five-foot crane is more comfortable to work over. Lay a green stick in the crotches. Pot hooks with which to hang kettles should be made of green, trimmed saplings. They should have a stub of a branch at one end to hook over the cross bar and a notch at the other end in which to hang the kettle. With pot hooks of various lengths kettles may be hung at the required height. A green stick with a hook at the end will permit lifting kettles from the fire.

The selection of camp foods is important and one upon which only the basic facts can be given as it must necessarily be decided by adaptability to the outing and personal preference; but having chosen the foods from these standpoints, it is well to look over the list and be assured of good food values. Woods hunger is the sort that hurts, and an abused stomach may so revenge itself that an entire outing will be ruined.

When the weight of the packsack is limited, the transportation of large quantities of water is unwise. This restricts the food list to dried meats, dried legumes, cereals, fats, dried fruits, beverages, and condiments, but foods from these classes, if carefully chosen and intelligently cooked, will supply an ever varying, nourishing, and satisfying menu.

A few food facts are of value to the prospective camper. By their appliance she will obtain the maximum of food for the minimum of weight, and, strange to say, she will find that the woodsman and the scientist all unconsciously agree, and that a food list chosen with a view to food values will find favor with the guide.

The woodsman will suggest a generous supply of beans, sugar, and dried fruits. He will look skeptically at a breakfast made up solely of camp cooked oatmeal. Raisins between meals will win his unqualified approval, and too many corn meal pancakes in summer will bring forth scorn. Soup tablets as an emergency ration may elicit his chary appreciation, but as an every day diet they will cause revolt. Although the woodsman has never read Kipling, he agrees with him when he says: “Erbswurst, tinned beef of surpassing tinniness, compressed vegetables and meat biscuits may be nourishing, but what Thomas Atkins needs is bulk in his insides.”

That these preferences are not idiosyncrasies on the part of the woodsman, but knowledge acquired on muscle wearying portages and endurance testing canoe journeys, is proved by a few of the most commonly known food facts.

The three principal food stuffs are carbohydrates, fats, and proteins. Proteins build up the body structure, repair tissues, and supply some fuel. Fats and carbohydrates are the chief fuel ingredients of food and supply heat and power. Proteins remain in the stomach approximately twice as long as carbohydrates and fats, even longer. The starchy carbohydrates are not available to the body until broken down by thorough cooking. Applying these facts to the camp diet we find:

Legumes have a larger percentage of protein than cereals and so remain in the stomach longer. This has made them a favorite food with muscular laborers. Their interesting history has been given in a United States food bulletin. An old Hindoo proverb says: “Rice is good, but lentils are my life.” The Neapolitan brick layer, requiring a cheap food rich in protein, uses kidney beans as a daily diet. The Arabs feed their horses ground beans to prepare them for extraordinary exertions. The old New England wood cutter took into the winter woods his bean porridge. Baked beans furnished 10 to 14 per cent of the total energy in the diet of the Maine lumberman. Frozen baked or boiled beans were almost the exclusive food on Alaskan gold stampedes.

In the face of this testimony of ages we must grant the woodsman his baked beans for the noon meal. Dried peas is another legume of value to the camper but not in as high favor when used as a regular article of diet. It palls on the stomach more quickly and has more ill effects.

Rice, because of its high percentage of carbohydrates, is a good food, quickly digested. For this reason it makes an ideal supper dish and will give the stomach as well as the muscles a rest in the night.

Foods high in carbohydrates, such as oatmeal and cornmeal, require thorough cooking to become available. This makes a ten minute, camp boiled oatmeal and an insufficiently cooked cornmeal pancake poor fuels on which to travel. Cornmeal, because of its comparatively high percentage of fats, is not a good regular diet for warm weather.

Sugars are more quickly available for muscular power than are starches, as starch must first be converted into sugar by the human system. Sugar is an excellent fuel food for the out of door man or woman. Experiments have shown it to be valuable as a preventative of muscular fatigue. For this reason it is unwise to save bulk by substituting other sweetening elements, such as saccharine and its allied articles. In so doing a harmful coal tar product is used instead of a valuable food.

It is a splendid idea to eat raisins when fatigued. The sugar in this fruit does not have to be broken down by cooking to be available and its action is sufficiently quick to make it almost a stimulant.

Dried fruits are valuable both as fuel foods and for their eliminating qualities. The usual woods diet, lacking in green vegetables and fresh fruits, must be tempered to the city camper with a plentiful supply of dried fruits.

Condiments should be chosen which will assist in varying the menu. A little vinegar is invaluable. A teaspoon in simmering meat will make it tender. The same amount will eliminate the “rabbity” taste from rabbit. It will serve as a fair substitute for brandy in pudding sauce. Mixed with bacon grease, it will make a salad dressing much like French dressing.

A few cans of tomato puree will make possible macaroni and Spanish rice, help out in thickened soups and effect a welcome change in meat stews.

Whole cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cayenne pepper weigh little and yet will make possible a variety in stews, puddings, and cakes.

Onions are almost necessary. The evaporated article will serve for seasoning.

Because well planned meals are of such importance in the woods, where muscular effort demands fuel, their skillful arrangement is by no means a minor part of woodcraft. They must at all times be nourishing and of sufficient proportions to meet woods appetites. A woman who does not take part in the hardest work, and so does not demand the larger quantities of food, is apt, in her planning, to forget the appetites of the guides or the men of the party. We are all prone to gauge appetites by our own. If the feminine cook has not worked sufficiently hard to develop a woods appetite, she should always call a laboring male into consultation on the menu in the out of door world where recipes for four will serve only two.

The more slowly digesting meals should be served morning and noon so that the stomach will remain comfortably full during the muscular activity of the day. A nourishing but quickly digested meal should be served at night so that rest may be granted to the stomach as well as the muscles.

Variation in the menu must be gained, not by a variety of foods, but rather by ingenious methods of cooking. Imagination and common sense can be combined with a well chosen food list to build up menus which will satisfy and delight, add not a little to the physical welfare, and leave vivid winter memories of savory woods meals.

CHAPTER VIII
COOKING EXPEDIENTS

If there is one place where it is not true that woman’s sphere is in the kitchen, it is on the out of door vacation. At least, there is always a place beside her for a strong and willing man. Camp cooking, because of primitive utensils, open fire, and large appetites of the campers, is heavy work. To make woman entirely responsible for its accomplishment is to fill her vacation days with culinary activities.

Neither is woman fitted for it because of her past work, for in out of door cooking all except first principles must be unlearned. If a woman attempts, over an open fire, the usual city food, cooked in the usual city manner, she invites hardships and disaster for herself.

Because of the new elements which enter into camp cookery, a book on the subject is almost imperative. No woman can do better than to become the possessor of Kephart’s “Camp Cookery.” It is an inspiring and exhaustive treatise which opens up all sorts of possibilities.

This chapter is not intended as an exposition of camp cookery. That subject cannot be treated satisfactorily in less than book length. The following pages can serve only as a description of a few time savers, makeshifts, and out of door cooking discoveries. Every cook of the open will inevitably blaze some new trail in this activity, the potential variations of which are so great.

The utensil forms as convenient a division as any other, and this chapter will be considered from the standpoint of a few of the possibilities of the frying pan, the baker, and the camp kettle.

No artist ever drew a picture of a camping scene without showing, in the immediate foreground, a frying pan energetically at work. No camper ever went on a trip without a frying pan unless the excitement of the occasion caused him to forget it at the last moment. No amateur camper could cook anything except coffee without a frying pan. It is the first thing one thinks of in connection with camping. It is more closely associated with the out of doors than a tent.

That original American camper, the Indian, doesn’t own a frying pan, unless he has been contaminated by long association with the whites. Even then it is one of those three-inch, doll affairs that would seem to indicate a desire to be up to date rather than any expectation of culinary utility.

The frying pan has driven much promising woods material back to the cities. There is many a dyspeptic who would be boasting of his woods cure to-day had not a deadly piece of sheet iron engendered a violent hatred of all out of doors. To live by the frying pan alone, as so many outers do, requires a “Bosco-eats-’em-alive” stomach and a fanatical enthusiasm.

I am not advising that anyone go into the wilderness without one, but the frying pan habit should be left at home. This is not alone a woods theory. Sociologists blame the American pie and the frying pan habit of untaught housekeepers for many of our social ills.

The frying pan itself is not to blame. It is what we put into it; it’s the grease. To be sure, the out of door dweller, especially in colder weather, can stand, and even demands, more fat than the city man, but the average outer, jumping from city ease to unaccustomed activity, whose suddenly augmented appetite greets any food as a friend, cannot but injure himself when he plasters his stomach with grease three times a day.

I do not contend for a moment that nothing good can come from a frying pan, or that on a camping trip it should not be used, but discretion in its use should be exercised. It lends itself admirably to the preparation of a quick meal, and its blackened, battered sides can turn out many delicious dishes. These, eaten on occasions, harm no one and supply the fats necessary to the system as well as a variety in the menu.

A majority of campers can eat pancakes once a day in the open with perfect safety, especially if they are the so-called harmless variety of sour dough cakes. The sour dough can ranks high in the list of woods time savers. It is easy to manipulate, will supply yeast for both cakes and bread, and requires only one start, for it improves with age.

To make the “sourings,” stir two cups of flour, two tablespoons of sugar and one of salt in sufficient water to make a creamy batter. Stir in a tablespoon of vinegar and set near a fire or in the sun to sour. One author has said it “requires a running start of thirty-six hours.” Two days’ souring is better. Do not be dismayed by the odor. The woods axiom is, “the sourer the better,” and it will not be at its best the first few days. Its great advantage to campers is that it will raise either bread or pancakes in any temperature above freezing.

Pancakes should be set in the evening. Beat water and flour until smooth in proper proportions for batter. Stir this into the sourings in the sour dough can. This rises overnight. In the morning the amount of batter necessary for breakfast should be taken out, enough yeast for the next day being left. Into enough batter for two persons stir two tablespoons of brown sugar, one teaspoon of salt and one-half teaspoon of soda, the last two dissolved in hot water. Thin, small cakes are better and more easily handled than those the size of the frying pan. When frying in a pan care must be taken or cakes will burn. Once a cake has burned to the pan, the pan must be thoroughly cleaned or every succeeding cake will be spoiled.

Uneaten pancakes should be broken up and dropped into the sourings. It improves the cakes. Some woodsmen are almost superstitious about the mixture and, with them, the sour dough can rivals the garbage pail as a receptacle for uneaten foods. When the yeast loses its “sourness” from overwork, a tablespoon of vinegar will revive it. The “sourings” can be carried in a pail or in a pushtop tin. If you use the latter be sure to allow plenty of room for expansion. We still carry on a blanket evidences of too active “sourings.”

While a continuous diet of baking powder breads baked in a frying pan is unjustifiable, from a health standpoint, still there are times when a rich, brown bannock will add the touch artistically necessary to the meal, but it should be made only in ambitious moments, when cooking enthusiasm must express itself. This is the method of the north woods. Make a rich, moist baking powder biscuit dough, using double the amount of lard. The dough should be so thin that it can be smoothed with a knife. Heat a little lard in a frying pan and pour in the dough.

A bannock should never be baked in less than twenty-five minutes. With a good cooking fire, the pan should be held three feet above the blaze until the bannock has risen to twice its original height. Then lower the pan and brown. Shake the pan occasionally to prevent burning. When one side is done, slide the bannock onto a plate, heat more lard in the pan, gently replace the bannock upside down and brown again. The result is a golden-brown loaf.

Never under any circumstances attempt to hurry the baking of a bannock. If one does not anticipate with pleasure the holding of a frying pan over the fire for half an hour, a frying pan handle about eight feet long can be balanced on a crotched stick at the proper height. To brown the bannock, drive the crotched stick lower.

Meat can be broiled, baked, or roasted to better advantage because these methods retain the natural meat juices. The frying pan can, however, make very fresh moose or venison eatable without the usual ill effects. Slice into steaks one inch thick. Dredge these with flour, season, and lay in a little hot bacon grease. Brown both sides sufficiently to retain the meat juices. Pour in a half cup of water, cover tightly and steam until the water is gone. This makes the meat tender. Remove the cover and brown again.

Even the toughest game birds can be made tender in frying without flavor-losing boiling. Wipe dry, dredge with flour or fine bread crumbs, season, and fry in hot fat. Turn until each piece is thoroughly browned. Cover the pan for ten minutes. The steam makes the meat tender, while the browned outside retains the meat juices.

A fried, steaked fish is delicious. Cut off the head and run a knife down the entire length on each side of the bones in the back. Cut down to the back bone and continue along the ribs. This results in two slabs of boneless meat and leaves the entrails in the skeleton. Lay the pieces, skin side down, on a paddle blade and run a sharp knife between the flesh and the skin.

This boneless, scaleless, skinless fish can be rolled in fine breadcrumbs, cornmeal, or flour, fried in bacon grease and eaten with as little difficulty as a piece of steak. The skinless flesh is drier and more flaky than the usual fried fish.

Browned rice, a French Canadian dish, has a nutty flavor not obtainable in the usual methods of boiling this cereal. Heat two tablespoons of lard or bacon drippings and pour into this one cup of washed, dried rice. Add salt to season. Fry until a light brown. Then pour into the frying pan sufficient hot water to cover. Boil furiously until the kernels are tender. Allow the water to cook away, add a dash of pepper and a small piece of butter if possible.

An iced camp cake will astonish and delight. The frosting can be made easily and quickly in a frying pan. Wet one cup of sugar with five tablespoons of evaporated milk. Place over the fire and stir until it melts. Boil five minutes without stirring, then remove from the fire, flavor and beat constantly until it becomes a thick, creamy frosting. Cocoa, lemon, or vanilla can be used as flavoring. When cocoa is used, boil only four minutes.

The reflecting baker deserves a far higher place among camp utensils than most campers accord it. With it and a proper fire, one can make biscuits, breads, pies, puddings, cakes, and cookies, obtain savory roasts and browned potatoes, bake fish excellently, and, in fact, do almost anything that one can do in the oven at home except bake beans. These require a more intense heat.

The fire, a most important factor in successful baker cooking, has been treated elsewhere.

The bread supply offers the most difficult problem to campers. A continuous procession of hot breads is tiring even if the stomach can endure it. Baking yeast bread in the open is difficult. It can be done if the bread is set in a pan of warm water. Sour dough bread is much more simple to make since it will rise at any temperature above freezing. A good ratio for bread making follows:

For each loaf of bread use one cup of “sourings,” which has been described previously, one teaspoonful of sugar, half a teaspoonful of lard, one large teaspoonful of salt and a quarter of a teaspoonful of soda, the last two dissolved in hot water. The procedure from this stage depends upon the amount of time at your disposal and your ambition. If you wish to break camp in the morning, make the ball at night, divide into loaves, allow them to rise overnight and bake at breakfast time. If, however, you are to remain in camp the next day, or even make a late start, you can improve the bread by allowing it to rise twice, once overnight in a ball and again after it has been formed into loaves.

Bread should be baked an hour. In the first half hour the baker should be eighteen inches from the fire; the last half hour it should be nearer that the bread may brown. If the bread, when baked, is grayish, you have used too much soda. The amount of soda must be varied with the sourness of the yeast.

Raisin bread is a baking powder product which can be baked in a loaf, keeps fresh and is best when cold. Beat together one cup of sugar and one egg or its equivalent in egg powder. If neither are available, the egg can be omitted. Add to this two cups of sweet milk, one teaspoonful of salt, two cups of graham flour, two cups of white flour, four level teaspoonfuls of baking powder and one cup of seeded, chopped raisins. Let it stand in the loaf twenty minutes and then bake one hour in the reflector. Like all baking powder breads, it should bake only moderately at first until it has risen and then be moved closer to the fire to brown. The substitution of nuts for raisins in this bread makes it even more delicious.

A brown bread which is good, either warm with beans or cold the next day, can be made with soda, and comes as a most welcome change after much baking powder. The use of soda demands an acid. This variety of raising power is made possible by the addition of a teaspoonful of vinegar or lemon juice to a cup of evaporated milk. The acetic or citric acids will act as good substitutes for the lactic acid of sour milk. The discovery of this fact opened for me wonderful possibilities in the making of camp breads, muffins, and pancakes.

To make the brown bread, stir together one-quarter of a cup of molasses and three-quarters of a cup of brown sugar. This can be varied by using no molasses and one cup of brown sugar or a half cup of molasses and a half cup of white sugar. Add to this two cups of milk in which two teaspoonfuls of vinegar or lemon juice have been stirred, two and one-half cups of graham flour, one cup of white flour, one teaspoonful of salt and one teaspoonful of soda dissolved in a little warm water. It should be the consistency of a soft dough. Bake for two hours in a very slow heat.

Soda and acid baking requires more time and a much more moderate heat than the baking powder and sweet milk variety.

Cookies, cakes, puddings, and pies arouse a vision of a well equipped kitchen, eggs, butter, milk, a rolling pin and a pastry board. But none of these is necessary. With a little ingenuity and the combination of the baker and the ordinary foodstuffs of a light packsack, all may be obtained. A rainy day affords a wonderful opportunity to stock up on sweet things.

Pies may be rolled out on the bottom of a canoe or pinched and patted out with the hands. If shortening is precious, a pinch of baking powder and a teaspoonful of sugar help to enrich the crust. Stewed dried fruits make excellent substitutes for fresh.

A dried apple pie can be made to resemble closely in flavor and juiciness the green apple variety. Soak the dried apples over night. Next morning cut out the seed cells and arrange the uncooked, plumped apples in the lower crust. Mix a quarter of a teaspoonful of salt in two-thirds of a cup of sugar and sprinkle over the apples. Add three tablespoonfuls of the liquor in which the apples were soaked and dot over with small pieces of butter if you have it. Wet the edges of the lower crust with cold water, cover with the upper crust and pinch the edges together firmly. Bake three-quarters of an hour in a baker.

Cakes can be made easily and well in a baker. The big-four cake of the woods is very simple. Cream together one cup of lard or Crisco and two cups of sugar. Add a cup of water. Stir in sufficient flour, to which has been added a pinch of salt and two rounded teaspoonfuls of baking powder, to make a cake dough. Season with any spice or extract. This should be baked in moderate heat and allowed to rise before it is browned. The same mixture is made into cookies by using sufficient flour to make a dough which can be rolled out. Cut with the top of the baking powder can.

A boiled cake is very adaptable to woods cooking. Let simmer one cup of sugar, one-quarter of a cup of butter, Crisco or similar shortening, one cup of seeded, cut raisins, one teaspoonful of ground cloves, a pinch of ginger and a half teaspoonful of nutmeg. When the raisins are tender, cool and stir in a teaspoonful of baking soda, a teaspoonful of vanilla extract and one and three-quarters of a cup of flour. Bake in a loaf. The spices and flavoring can be varied to meet materials at hand.

A cake a trifle more elaborate is made as follows: Stir together thoroughly one cup of sugar and a small half cup of lard or Crisco and beat into this one cup of unsweetened apple sauce into which a teaspoonful of soda has previously been beaten. Add one and three-quarters cups of flour, one teaspoonful of salt, one-fourth of a teaspoonful of cloves, one-half teaspoonful of cinnamon, one cup of raisins and some nutmeg. Bake slowly for forty minutes.

The usefulness of the baker is by no means exhausted with breads and desserts. Many a delicious roast of moose sirloin or short ribs with browned potatoes has come from our reflecting oven. The only precaution to be taken in roasting is the necessity of previous searing of the meat in a frying pan to keep the juices from escaping. I have never been able to get a sufficiently intense heat to sear the roast in the baker. The addition of a few slices of onion to the roast will mellow the game flavor.

If you desire baked fish and have no artistic scruples against baking fish except when it is encased in mud and green leaves, try the baker. Draw the fish but do not remove the skin or scales. Lay evaporated or fresh onions inside, sew fat pieces of pork through the skin, salt and pepper and keep sufficient water in the pan to prevent burning. A five-pound fish requires at least an hour in a baker.

A well seasoned combination of stale bread, macaroni or boiled rice with a can of tomatoes or tomato puree, some onion, diced and fried bacon with its grease, pimientos if they are available, and cayenne pepper makes a most delicious baked dish for a cold, rainy day. This combination can be varied to suit the taste and the grub sack limitations.

The camp kettle is one of the greatest time savers of the equipment. By its use meals may be prepared which need only to be reheated for serving. A little extra effort at night will provide an adequate noon meal for the next day. Almost anything cooked in a kettle can be warmed over. Opportune use of this utensil makes possible better food, a longer day’s journey or more leisure to enjoy the out of doors.

Especially is this true in the cooking of such foods as beans and peas, where the nourishing qualities must be brought out by thorough cooking. A sandy beach may be utilized for a bean hole, and the beans, warmed the next day in a frying pan, provide a delicious luncheon. To prepare beans for the bean hole, cover with cold water, add a teaspoonful of soda and bring to a boil. Pour off this water and cover with hot water. Add to each cup of beans a heaping tablespoonful of brown sugar and a third of a teaspoonful of salt. Lay strips of salt pork over the top and pepper to taste. Bring this to the boiling point and the kettle is ready for the bean hole. The water should cover the beans a quarter of an inch.

The proper heat for a bean hole must be learned by experience. It is impossible to give directions which can be applied inflexibly to all soils and degrees of dampness. The real bean hole expert acquires her art only by repeated trials and the continual use of good judgment, but properly baked bean hole beans well repay the effort of learning.

To make a bean hole, dig out a pit three or four feet across and two feet deep. In this build a fire big enough to fill the hole and heat the edges. It requires about a sixth of a cord of wood. Large stumps, driftwood, almost anything which will burn, can be used. The size and duration of the fire must be learned by experience. On sand beaches, the usual place for a bean hole, the fire should burn for an hour or an hour and a half. In damp weather and in loam the fire must burn longer.

When it is time to put in the beans nearly all the coals should be raked out. The bean pail should then be placed in the center and the coals and hot soil raked in around it. Care should be taken to rake in only the soil which has been heated. The warm soil should be piled in a mound over the hole and the beans allowed to bake at least twelve hours. They will improve with longer baking and may be taken hot from the hole after twenty-four hours or more.

When there is not time or a place for a bean hole, a good substitute may be obtained by boiling beans until they are soft. This can be done in about two hours. Season as for bean hole beans, but do not add so much sugar and that not until a few minutes before they are taken from the fire. Be watchful in the last half hour, for they will burn easily, especially after the sugar has been added. When cool, pack in a push top tin. They make an excellent quick lunch the next day when heated in bacon grease in a frying pan.

Small game, such as partridges and rabbits, lend themselves readily to this forehanded cooking. In stews or casseroles they lose none of their flavor in the reheating.

In the fall an occasional rabbit is welcomed. Use only the back and hind legs. The “rabbity” taste can be eliminated by putting a teaspoonful of vinegar in the water in which the rabbit is boiled. Hard boiling will toughen the meat. Allow it to simmer gently for one or two hours. When tender add a minced onion and some bacon grease to the liquor and place in the baker to brown.

The Germans prepare a rabbit in a more ambitious manner but one that well repays. The disjointed rabbit is simmered until tender. Pour the meat and liquor into a dressing made as follows: Fry until brown three or four slices of bacon which have been diced. Add to this a teaspoonful of flour, a teaspoonful each of sugar and salt, a teaspoonful of vinegar, and a few cloves. Stir well to keep from burning. In both cases time can be saved by simmering the rabbit in the evening and, on the following day, browning in a baker or serving with the German dressing.

An all day expedition with a cooked supper awaiting the return, or a day-long paddle with a prepared luncheon is possible if a camp stew is made the evening before. To gently simmering pieces of meat add potatoes, onions or wild rice a half hour before the meat is cooked. It need only be reheated if served without dumplings. If dumplings are added, they should not be put in until the stew is hot. To insure gravy, the liquor should cover the meat and vegetables when the dumplings are dropped in.

There are any number of dishes which suggest themselves for this forehanded manner of cooking. And, when tired and hungry you uncover the meal nearly prepared, you will not regret the time spent over the camp fire the evening before.

The intricacies, modifications, and economies of camp cooking must be learned by experience. Its pursuit is as fascinating and its mastery as gratifying as that of any other outing activity, and its study is as important. Proficiency is not adherence to minor rules, but, like grammar, it is based only on mastery of fundamental principles, and, like grammar, its most successful followers are those who know no rules but use them instinctively. To such its possibilities are limited only by their imaginations and ingenuity.

CHAPTER IX
PADDLING

The canoe has been the magic key to many of the playgrounds of this continent. Because it alone has made possible the penetration of vast stretches which beckon always to the adventurous instinct within us, it has come to have a glamor and a romance all its own. It has taken man and woman to the far away places. It has aroused in us that same force which drove the early voyageurs, for we, too, feel the joy of measuring our physical strength and endurance against the mighty power of the wilderness, which is always stretching out its hand to intercept us and, by so doing, throws down a challenge which we must accept.

Because so large a part of the pleasure of a canoe trip lies in this individual endeavor, the woman who does not paddle loses the witchery of the canoe vacation. Paddling is one of the easiest and most fascinating means of traversing the trail to the real spirit of the wilderness, and it is as possible to the woman as to the man. What she may lack in physical strength she may more than overbalance by her nerve force and endurance. Even before her paddling may take her to the real wilderness, it can afford her pleasure. There is as much joy in the quick, effectual stroke as in any other well played game of the out of doors, and wind and current are worthy adversaries.

The first consideration for the woman paddler is the selection of her paddle. If her place is in the bow her paddle should be about three inches less than her height, especially if she paddles from her knees. If she is to paddle in the stern it should be about her height, although if she paddles from her knees it can be used effectively if it is a few inches shorter.

Manufactured paddles are generally spruce and maple. The maple is stronger, more springy and, because of its hardness and thinness, leaves the water cleanly, but it is also heavier. One of usual weight and thickness is, I believe, too heavy for a woman of average strength. A maple paddle made to order and of unusual thinness and lightness, would be ideal. The spruce paddle is soft, stiff and not durable, but it is exceedingly light and, for that reason popular with women.

The bow position gives a woman the best opportunity to learn to paddle. Progress is not seriously impeded by her first ineffectual efforts and less strength is needed. The Indian woman sits in the stern because the man provides the larger part of their living with the rifle and the bow gives him an unobstructed shot.

The bow paddler should first master the requirements of straight ahead paddling in open water. She must learn to expend all her energy in propelling the canoe straight ahead, not obliquely. This means that the paddle should be started out from the canoe’s side and pulled straight back. The usual beginner’s stroke starts close to the bow and sweeps back in an outward arc. This forces the bow in the opposite direction, diverts a large part of her strength from the propulsion of the canoe and calls for unnecessary effort on the part of the stern paddler in swinging the canoe back to its course.

One of the most important duties of the bow-woman is the setting of a quick, regular stroke, for the stern man follows the bowman’s pace. Irregular paddling not alone affects the efficiency of the bow paddler but distracts the stern man. When she becomes tired she should cease paddling altogether. Stopping every few strokes to adjust her hair, or her hat, to pull on her gloves, or for any other purpose, is most exasperating to her fellow paddler.

The long, slow stroke with the sweeping recovery is one of the most easily distinguishable characteristics of the amateur. It results in great loss of effort, for between strokes the canoe loses momentum which must be regained. The Indian and woodsman, on the other hand, take two strokes to the amateur’s one. It is a quick, short stroke with a lightning recovery. This stroke permits only slight loss of headway and obtains greater results for the same amount of expended energy.

It has also another advantage. There is a snap in the quick, short stroke which springs the blade forward with little effort on the part of the paddler and it is not so tiring. Because the canoe maintains its headway, there is no dragging to be overcome in each stroke.

Having learned the requirements of straight ahead paddling, the novice should try rough lake travel. This presupposes a capable man in the stern, for few women are strong enough to guide a canoe through a rough sea. She should assure herself that the stern paddler is to be depended upon and then have complete confidence in him. Under no circumstances should she paddle frantically, or try to balance the canoe from the bow, no matter how dangerously it may careen. Safety depends greatly upon the bow paddler’s unshifting position and regular, even stroke. Nothing is harder on the nerves of the beginner than a long stretch of vicious white caps, and nothing is more exciting or stimulating for the woman who has experience and confidence.

The bow paddler must assume much of the responsibility of steering in twisting rivers, when approaching landings, among rocks and snags and in rapids. Two strokes make it possible for her to do this quickly and efficiently, the “throw” and the “draw.”

The “draw” stroke is more commonly known. To “draw,” it is only necessary to reach out to the side and pull. By pulling toward the canoe at an angle of forty-five degrees, it is possible both to turn and to propel the craft. Through experience one will learn to adapt this stroke to the turn which is to be made.

The “throw” stroke, difficult to learn and known to few men outside the wilderness, is equally important. Once acquired, it permits the woman in the bow to “throw” the canoe away from the side on which she is paddling. It is needed as often as the “draw” and is invaluable in boulder filled water or twisting streams.

The paddle is held perpendicularly four or five inches from the gunwale and parallel to the canoe. The lower hand, and there must be a strong wrist, grasps it above the blade and is held rigidly. The upper hand turns the leading edge of the blade slightly toward the canoe. This results in a terrific strain on both arms, and the beginner’s paddle will be wrenched loose, but, if held firmly, the paddle will shoot the canoe quickly to the side, and the turn is negotiated or the hidden boulder passed safely. The value of this stroke lies in the fact that it may be used instantly, there being no necessity to shift the paddle from one side of the canoe to the other.

The work of the bow-woman in rapids is most important. Upon her at times devolves the entire responsibility. The novice should learn rapids work by beginning with the smallest rips. I do not believe that women are sufficiently strong to guide a canoe down dangerous rapids alone. Many situations arise which require unusual strength. She can, however, by working with a good man in the stern, negotiate rapids with safety, contribute her share to the work and experience that wonderful sense of exhilaration that comes from a perfectly controlled canoe in a swift current.

To do this the most important factors are self confidence and experience. A woman should know the rips perfectly before attempting to run them, obtain a clear idea of what her part must be, and then do it calmly and dependably. The woman who has a tendency to grow “panicky” in moments of excitement should never endanger her life and the life of her fellow paddler in rapids. Although the running of rapids is as exciting a pastime as any of the wilderness, it is most certainly not worth any great risk. It is only the foolish and the ignorant who refuse to remain conservative.

Every woman should be able to paddle in the stern position and alone from the center. In so doing she will become able to meet emergencies so characteristic of forest travel.

Upon the stern paddler rests the entire responsibility of guiding the canoe in open water. To do this the amateur trails the paddle, using it as a rudder at the end of each stroke, and in this way keeping the canoe straight. The more experienced traveler is able to keep a straight course without waste of time or effort by a slight twist of the paddle. Each stroke is ended by a slightly outward shove and a turn of the paddle so that the inner edge of the blade leads the other. With practice this will become unconscious.

Paddling a canoe alone is difficult. Many good canoemen do not do this, but, like all emergency activities, when it is necessary it is very necessary, and the woodswoman who has mastered this stroke is equipped to meet most water situations which may arise.

The center position is the only position for the lone paddler to assume. Wind and current have a more equal effect on bow and stern and the paddler is better able to hold either end of the canoe in place more easily than from any other position.

The stroke is the most difficult of all. If the paddle describes an outward arc, as is most natural, it will turn the canoe around. If, in an attempt to remedy this, the paddle is trailed at the end and the canoe pulled back into position each time, the craft follows a zigzag course and a great loss of effort results.

The paddle should be started out from the canoe, moved toward the gunwale at the side, and continued back along the canoe. As the stroke passes the paddler the blade should be turned so that the inner edge slightly leads the other. This inclination is gradually increased until at the end of the stroke the blade is at an angle of forty-five degrees to the canoe. This stroke will maintain a straight course.

Like everything else, it is more easy to master when the paddler has once grasped the logical reasons for the directions. Try it slowly, study the result and effect of each part of the stroke. It will require time to master it, but the occasion may arise when the knowledge will many times repay its possessor.

There are many reasons in favor of knee rather than seat paddling. So overwhelming are they that before them the question of the first temporary discomfort of the position fades into nothingness. Until recently it was only in the United States that canoes were made with cane seats. The Canadians use a broad thwart against which the paddler may rest the hips. The Indian has no seat at all but sits on the inner sides of his feet. While this position would be difficult for anyone except an Indian, who sits this way at many of his tasks, every woman can learn to kneel in a canoe, resting her hips against the thwart or seat.

This position is safer. It brings the weight lower in the canoe and affords greater stability to the craft. It offers less of the body to the wind. It permits better control of the canoe in balancing, handling, and propelling.

The knee position gives greater efficiency for it allows the use of the back and thigh muscles in the stroke. By the use of all the muscles from the knees up, the stroke is more natural and requires less exertion. This principle is used in racing shells through the sliding seat.

Paddling from the knees is better exercise, for it brings so many more muscles into use. It is difficult for woman because of her corset weakened back muscles, but that is only an argument in its favor.

Its only disadvantage is the discomfort of the position for the beginner, but if it is attempted for only a short time at first, that may be overcome to some extent. Each day the period will be longer before impeded circulation and cramped muscles compel a return to the seat. In time, realization of the added efficiency, safety, and value of the exercise, and the comfort of the position, will cause the paddler to abandon her seat forever.

There are two types of paddlers who are most annoying to their companions, those who will dare nothing and those who will dare anything. Both are the results of ignorance. The paddler who thoroughly understands the craft, its possibilities and her own capabilities will be the victim neither of causeless fears nor of incautious daring.

While the canoe, when paddled correctly, can safely cross a seemingly impossible stretch, there are times when it is best to stay on shore. A person who, from fear of seeming cowardly or from an obstinate tenacity of purpose, risks a dangerous sea, shows ignorance rather than courage.

A bad stretch can often be crossed by sneaking along a lee shore or taking advantage of the shelter of islands and points. Caution should be observed in traveling down strange rivers. Bad falls and rapids may lie just around a sharp bend.

A runaway canoe in the wilderness will always prove disconcerting and sometimes may be dangerous. For this reason the craft should be lifted out of the water when not in use. At night, if turned over and weighted down with rocks, a wind cannot blow it into the water or against boulders and trees. Paddles should be placed in the canoe to avoid the danger of stepping upon and breaking them.

A good canoeist is always known by her care of the canoe. Never step into or out of a canoe while it is fast upon a rock or the shore. Never sit in or on a canoe when it is out of the water. It is a wonderful craft which serves its owner faithfully and is worthy of the best usage.

CHAPTER X
HUNTING AND FISHING

Every woman who goes into the out of doors should at least once assemble a simple equipment and actively participate in both a hunting and a fishing expedition. Her interest may carry her no further, or it may open up an activity which will afford hours of pleasure and profit. Through actual experience alone can she assure herself with certainty that these fascinating sports hold no charm for her.

For the ever increasing number of women who have passed the novice stage and who have become enthusiastic and efficient hunters and fisherwomen, this chapter will have little of value. There is for them a wealth of articles and books, and their choice of equipment will be determined by their own experiences. The intention of the following pages is to suggest a simple, adequate equipment for the woman who would do her first, or only occasional, hunting or fishing.

It is generally agreed that the beginner should start with good medium grade tackle. The cheapest is flimsy and always a mistake. The best is unnecessary, since the novice is not qualified to appreciate the points of the finest tackle. This is made to delight experts.

The basis of the fishing equipment is the rod. A light weight, three piece, steel casting rod five feet in length for the average height, will do for all purposes except trout fishing. A two piece, split bamboo casting rod about four and a half feet long will make the equipment a bit more complete. The further addition of a three piece split bamboo fly rod with an extra tip will afford rods for all kinds of fishing in nearly all fresh waters.

Even the amateur should have a fairly good assortment of lines, especially if she will fish where supplies are not easily available. At least two good fifty-yard silk casting lines should be purchased for practice in casting. A No. 3 line of twelve pound test should land a fish of any size in fresh water for first-class fisherwomen. A woman with little experience, and who is fishing in waters that hold muskellunge, might use a heavier line. The lightest weight silk lines should be provided for trout fishing.

The first reel need not be the best, but it should be a good one. A hundred yard regulation casting reel of medium price will serve for all fishing except trout. Here a regular trout reel which has a tension at all times when unreeling should be provided.

A two compartment, medium sized tackle box will be necessary. In this should be carried an assortment of various sized, plain hooks, a dozen assorted size lead sinkers, half a dozen assorted size spoon hooks and half a dozen reel leaders. A steel hook extractor, a steel jaw distender, a three piece gaff hook and a three piece, jointed landing net will all be worth the investment. If trout fishing is intended, half a dozen six foot gut leaders and a good assortment of flies should be provided in addition. A pair of pliers, an oil can and a knife will equip the fisherwoman to care for her tackle.

Trolling for lake trout in northern waters in summer will meet with better success if it is done with a copper line. Such a line is made especially for this purpose of fine copper wire braided over silk. Its use necessitates a large reel.

Waders should be carried if there is any necessity of wading. The kind of fishing intended will decide this. Rubber boots are slippery and dangerous. For this reason either waders with boot feet, wading shoes or boots with wading sandals should be provided.

A rubber fishing shirt and storm hat will afford comfortable fishing in rain. If these are provided, they should be of a good, light quality.

In the selection of tackle it should be remembered that the successful play of a fish on light tackle has all the excitement and suspense of any other well fought battle, and that the more equal the terms the greater the satisfaction in victory. The use of too heavy tackle in the beginning will decrease the development of that skill which is to bring pleasure later on.

Casting is a satisfying and engrossing science and one that requires practice and proficiency. The best way to learn is to obtain instruction from some fishing friend on the manner of casting and then go into the back yard and try it, using a sinker but no hook. Thus, without the embarrassment of an audience, the first awkward stage is passed and some degree of proficiency is gained before the real fishing begins.

Fishing, to enthusiastic fishermen, is a serious pursuit extending through hours at a time. For this reason the novice fisherwoman should never inflict her company upon a real fishing party unless she has a sincere desire to fish. To fish flippantly, to tire readily and then to demand an early return to camp is to make of oneself a public nuisance, and the woman who cannot bait her own hook, rig her own tackle and care for her own equipment is no less annoying. Remember that your companions have in all probability dreamed of this two-weeks’ fishing through the other fifty weeks of the year. Either join them enthusiastically and in a manner as efficient as possible, or allow them to fish in the peace of your absence.

Hunting is another sport in which proficiency depends on practice and skill rather than on strength and so is most suitable for woodswomen. The choice of guns depends, of course, on the nature of the hunting contemplated.

A twenty gauge shotgun of standard make, chambered for a two and three-quarters shell, is adequate for small feathered game. A pleasant, effective load for ducks and geese is two and three-quarters drams of bulk powder, or twenty-two grains of dense powder and seven-eighths of an ounce of the desired shot loaded in a two and seven-eighths shell wadded with soft wadding.

For quail and snipe use two and a half drams of bulk powder or twenty grains of dense powder and seven-eighths of an ounce of No. 8 shot. The same load with No. 7 shot is good for partridge.

For big game up to and including moose a .22 calibre “Hi-Power” Savage would be an excellent arm. Its extreme velocity and low trajectory make it an easy rifle to shoot since it requires little calculation of distance. As it has little or no recoil it is particularly suitable for women who are not accustomed to shooting heavy charges of powder. The disadvantages of the rifle are that it is expensive, costing $25, and is hard to keep clean because of the small bore.

Two cheaper, suitable rifles for beginners which, although not approved by experts, have killed their share of game, are the “30-30” and the .32 Special. They can be purchased for $11 or $12 and can be easily shot by women.

Few women would care to shoot a rifle of greater killing power than those mentioned. Should the need or desire arise, however, there is nothing better than a .280 Ross.

For such game as rabbits and squirrels, where a shotgun is not desired, any standard make of .22 calibre rifle is suitable. This weapon is especially adapted for women who wish to become acquainted with shooting equipment. It is light, easy to shoot and inexpensive in ammunition. It will teach the care, use and appreciation of fire arms. It will furnish endless fun and practice on small game, such as rabbits, squirrels and partridge, and it will afford a most satisfactory companion on many a woods stroll.

In the enumerated articles of fishing and hunting equipment the beginner will find enough to make these sports a pleasure. If she goes further the additions will be matters of personal preference founded on actual experience. Having purchased a good quality, she should show her appreciation of it by good care. Women are notoriously neglectful of good steel and fine workmanship. Reels should be oiled frequently, lines dried after being used and guns cleaned thoroughly. A good sportswoman looks upon the pieces of her equipment as good and faithful friends, and she never abuses them.

All women are not so constituted as to enjoy hunting and fishing. Those who do are fortunate. The pursuit of either or both affords long, delightful days in the open in healthful activity, forges another link in the chain of comradeship and understanding between her and her husband, father, brother, or just plain man chum, and brings a better, cleaner knowledge of the requisites of clean sportsmanship. A chapter on hunting and fishing would be incomplete were it to make no mention of this characteristic, the possession of which is so endearing and the failure in which is so damning. Its elements are not elusive. It presupposes always fairness, courtesy to one’s companions, and a greater emphasis on the manner of the getting than on the game gotten.

In this women have an advantage. It is rather the expected thing for a man to hunt or fish. If he does not participate he is left out of many men’s expeditions. This may be the reason why so many men, in going after game, apparently care nothing for the game of getting it and are ready to avail themselves of any advantage to meet with success.

Women, on the other hand, are not expected to pursue these pastimes. If they do participate it is for the love of the sport, and this should make them followers always of one of the dictates of sportsmanship, that of giving the quarry some chance for its life. This means the pitting of one’s cunning and skill against those of the game.

The highest form of the chase is still hunting. The woman who has stalked a deer or a moose, approached and shot him, has earned him. To her will come a thrill of personal power. The art of still hunting, however, requires practice and skill. It cannot be mastered in one or two short vacations. For those who cannot still hunt there remains the drive. There is sport and suspense in the drive and in the quick shot at the frightened, leaping animal, but every factor that a woman arrays on her side against the game decreases by that much her satisfaction in victory. To kill a deer or a moose when it is peacefully feeding in water, to shoot unsuspecting game from platforms above runways or at salt licks, is to take hunting from the realms of sport to those of butchery. Such things are justifiable only when the hunting is for meat, not sport.

Conservation has been so expressed, both in literature and in laws in the last few years, that it has come to be expected that every good sportsman is also a good conservationist. There is, perhaps, no other place where otherwise orderly individuals become so lawless as in the field of hunting. There is here, in some of the best balanced minds, a sense of superiority to the game laws, a feeling that some circumstance makes the laws non-applicable to them. The two reasons most usually given by violators for this lawlessness are that they have a right to the game or that they need the meat. Both are hypocritical attempts to salve the conscience, for no one has any more right to the wards of the state outside of the hunting season than he has to his neighbor’s cattle, and a quarter of beef can be taken to camp, and always much more easily cared for, than an entire carcass of moose or deer. Only the moose and the deer cost nothing and so can be wasted by some with less regret.

I know a man who sometimes kills game out of season, but every time he does so he says: “I’m a crook, breaking the laws of the country in which I live. Some day I hope that I can get my meat in an honest fashion.” It has always seemed to me that the law breaking of this man was of a more honorable sort than that of those who convince themselves of some innate superiority over laws which were fashioned to meet their very lawlessness.

Women are entering this field when the sentiment in favor of law keeping has become clearly crystalized. They have in the matter a clean bill of health, and it affords them a valuable opportunity. By their consistent observation of the laws they may prove the unfairness of the often expressed theory that women cannot, or do not, apply the laws of their country to themselves as individuals.

Unfortunately the game conservation laws of the various states have not been standardized. One still allows the sale of game from another state out of season and so offers a profitable field for the market hunter, while others do not compel care of the meat shot for trophies. We can, however, keep faith with the true spirit of conservation by a refusal to countenance law breaking through the purchase of game out of season and by the use of all game shot.

If, in your hunting, you are fortunate enough to get a deer or a moose, remember that, aside from the sentimental value of the head, you have brought down a valuable piece of meat. To allow it to be wasted is to defeat the spirit of conservation. Whether the laws of that state compel it or not, by your very act of killing you have made yourself responsible for its care. If you cannot use it yourself, there are families in the nearest town to whom it will supply a large part of the winter’s food.

CHAPTER XI
THE WINTER WOODS

Those who have never gone into the winter wilderness have missed it in its most alluring aspect. There is an insistent, subtle spell in the snowshoe tramp through the snow filled trails, or in the exhilarating dash after a barking, galloping team of dogs, that can be felt at no other time of the year, while a moonlight night in a white fairyland of pine makes magic that can never be forgotten.

A woman who has once felt such an appeal will never again be held city-bound by that baseless bugaboo, her instinctive dread of the cold. If she is properly dressed and exercising, the dry cold of the northern woods serves only as a stimulant which urges her on and on into joyful activity that would be only wearying in warmer weather.

Few women should attempt camping out in winter unless they have previously gone through a hardening process. Extreme weariness allows the cold to strike in and makes the open camp a hardship, not a pleasure. I have slept under the stars with perfect comfort when the thermometer showed 45 degrees below zero, and the most delightful trip I ever took was a dog team journey in the winter. However, I did these things only after a winter in northern Ontario and after spending much time each day on the trap line, snowshoeing and dog driving.

There are, however, a fast growing number of winter camps and resorts to which one may return at evening and find waiting a warm room and a comfortable bed. The more hardened woman who elects real camping with a tent and a camp fire must make up her mind to undergo some privations. Either extremes of temperature bring some hardships. Melting weather results in wet camp and wet clothing. Freezing temperature means that meals must be cooked with mittened hands and that washing the hands and face is an act of extreme courage.

Bedding for the winter camp should combine the elements of warmth and lightness. Eider-down robes are best. They should not be covered with heavy canvas because such a covering retains the moisture of the body. A rabbit skin blanket is good but heavier. Wool will serve but should be of the best quality because of the weight of the number of blankets required to keep warm.

Food should be chosen from the standpoint of ease in cooking and suitability. Pork and beans, for instance, are a good winter food. In Alaska beans are previously baked or boiled and thrown onto a sheet of canvas to freeze. They can then be carried in a bag. When each bean is frozen separately, the proper amount for each meal can be picked up by the handful. We have had frozen beans in a sack and chopped off the required amount with an axe.

The camp site should be sheltered and close to a large amount of easily cut firewood. A spruce thicket below a birch hill is a situation commonly found. This affords protection and nearby dry pine and green birch for fuel. A camp made in such a place has an unbelievable coziness.

The subject of clothing has been taken up in another part of the book. It is, however, sufficiently important to bear some emphasis here. Whether a woman is going to make camp or only go on one day journeys from a cabin, her clothing must be of the best in quality. The two underlying principles in the selection of winter clothing are heat retaining undergarments and wind-resisting outer garments. This demands woolen underclothing and a close cotton, such as canvas, gabardine or moleskin or leather for a wind shield. I would suggest woolen underwear, two pairs of socks, trousers, which are far warmer than skirts; woolen shirt, a mackinaw stag shirt, a woolen toque and a parka, described elsewhere.

Footwear must be a choice between sealskin boots, rubbers, and moccasins. Sealskin boots will serve for either wet or dry snow, moccasins for dry cold, and rubbers for melting snow when sealskin boots are not to be had.

The trousers, if woolen, should be closely woven to resist wind. Moleskin is a better material. I have combined heavy khaki trousers with heavy woolen underwear. This is practicable only when there is no chance of getting wet in melting snow.

Mittens should be double, woolen underneath for warmth and leather pullovers for protection from wind and snow. Both my knit woolen mittens and buckskin pullovers have gauntlets. The gauntlets of the knit mittens are worn under my parka sleeves and the gauntlets of my pullovers over the sleeves. Needless to say, no winter winds chill my wrists.

A small brush broom for brushing off the garments before the heat of the campfire melts the snow will prevent wet clothing.

The implements of winter travel are snowshoes, toboggans and dog teams. The toboggan is used to carry the equipment or as a vehicle with dogs. It is not the variety used for coasting down hills but is especially made for the woods. It is narrow so that it may follow the trail made by snowshoes. The ideal toboggan is fourteen inches wide at the front, tapering to twelve at the rear. It should have a long, narrow, sloping hood that it may rise easily over logs and glance from trees. The load is lashed on by means of canvas and rope. The canvas protects the load from snow and snags.

The snowshoe is not, as commonly illustrated, a contrivance for walking on top of the snow. It always sinks down unless there is an unusually hard crust, something seldom found in the north woods. In soft snow the shoe will sink a foot or so. There is none of that “swallow like skimming” except on a heavy crust. No woman should attempt to break trail in three feet of snow. Few men can do that very long. If, however, she confines snowshoeing to light snow trail breaking and broken trails, any woman will find this a fascinating and healthful sport. The spring of the webbing of a good shoe adds a resiliency to the step which makes snowshoeing faster and more pleasurable than walking, and it alone makes it possible to follow the snow filled trails of the winter woods.

The use of the snowshoe is simple. The foot is attached by means of a harness which holds the toe and leaves the rest of the foot free. To walk, simply raise the foot, bringing the snowshoe up and over the other, and set it down ahead. The tail of the shoe does not leave the snow. After a little practice there will be no difficulty in keeping one shoe from striking the other.

Care should be exercised to avoid catching the toe of the shoe in underbrush which has been bent down by snow. This will give a bad fall. In climbing windfalls never bear the weight down on the shoe unless the tail is free as such a strain may snap the best of frames.

The snowshoe harness may be home-made or manufactured. The most commonly known of the first variety is the “Minnesota twist.” The material for the thongs should be one that neither shrinks nor stretches when wet and one that is pliable to a certain extent when frozen. Leather when frozen, will cut like a steel band. Rawhide, about the thickness of a clothesline, is best. Braided cotton rope will serve. Lamp-wicking is most commonly used. It has, however, one disadvantage; because it is flat, snow packs and freezes between it and the foot and causes sore toes.

The “Minnesota twist” is used by the Indians of Minnesota and Ontario and is very simple. To adjust, thread the thong down through the webbing on each side of the toe hole, leaving a loop which will fit over the toe. Bring the ends up through the webbing in front. Pass the right end over to the left and under the toe loop. Then pass the left end over to the right, under the right one and over the toe loop. The loose ends are tied behind the ankle above the heel. Once adjusted, the foot can be slipped in and out easily.

A more complicated harness which is more efficient and easier on the foot is made as follows: Drop the ends of a thong a foot or more long through the holes exactly as for the “Minnesota twist,” leaving as before a loop for the toes. Bring the ends up through the holes ahead, back under the loop and out to the side, where they should be woven tightly into the webbing. This gives a fixed toe loop which will keep the foot from sliding forward. The remainder of the harness is made as follows: Thread a long thong through the same holes and in the same manner as the short piece. This time, however, leave the loop long enough to fit back around the foot and above the heel when the toes are in the toe loop already made. Bring the two ends back through the toe loop exactly as in the “Minnesota twist.” That is, pass the right end over to the left and under the loop, and the left one over to the right, under the right one and over the loop. Then take the left end, which has just been crossed to the right side, bring it across the right side of the heel loop, under and around it, toward the front, and bring the free end back to the heel. Do the same on the other side and tie the ends back of the ankle. This gives two loops around the heel and slack may be taken up by twisting one about the other. This does away with the necessity of frequent adjusting.

While a little more complicated and harder to first adjust, the second harness described will be found to be worth the extra trouble as the foot cannot slip forward as it sometimes does in the “Minnesota twist.” In adjusting either harness care should be taken to start with the foot back from the cross bar in front of the toe hole. Touching the wood at every step results in a sore toe.

There are many manufactured harnesses on the market. Some are good and some are worthless. A good harness should have the following features: It should allow the foot to be twisted out easily in case of a fall or going through the ice. It should be easy to adjust, easy to put on, non-chafing and one that will not allow snow to collect between the harness and the foot.

The best foot protection I have ever seen was a toe cap worn inside the moccasin. This made it impossible for snow to collect inside the cap and yet it protected the foot perfectly from cutting or chafing by the thongs. It consisted of a piece of light sole-leather fitted over the toes and held in place by a heavy canvas fitted beneath the toes.

The selection of the type or model of snowshoe is important. There are many, and each district has a distinctive form. Care should be used not to select a shoe wider than that used by the natives or it will be difficult to walk on broken trails. Snowshoes should have coarse webbing and be of good quality. The cheap shoe, with webbing that sags when it has once become wet, results in plodding, not walking, and is of no durability.

While personal preference and the prevailing type of the district will determine in large measure the model to be used, there are underlying principles which should be observed. For open country, lakes, rivers, and barren grounds, the long, narrow shoe is fastest and easiest. Densely wooded districts, or those filled with brush windfalls and rough going, necessitate a shorter shoe. To obtain the required bearing surface, the shorter shoe must be wider. The bear paw model is used in mountains and very thick brush.

Because women will rarely do heavy trail breaking, the proportion of bearing surface to the weight of the bearer does not have to be so great for women as for men. This makes it possible for women to use a lighter, narrower, less cumbersome shoe. The average woman will rarely take a shoe more than twelve inches wide. This makes walking easier, as she does not have to spread her feet in stepping. For instance, I weigh 120 pounds and have found a shoe 11x41 inches to be large enough for broken trails and light trail breaking. If, however, a woman expects to break heavy trails, she should use the same proportions as men.

The occasion may arise when a woman will have to choose a trail for herself on strange, pathless lakes or rivers. For this reason she should know something about the conditions which make for good and for poor ice, but it is always better when possible to follow trails made by natives who know the course of the currents.

A year in which there is a heavy fall of snow before hard freezing is apt to make poor ice. The snow covering keeps the ice from forming. This is especially true of muskeg ponds or where there are currents to wear under the ice. Those lakes which have a river flowing through them are liable to have bad ice in narrows or near sand bars and points. At any time it is well to be careful around muskeg lakes and swamp ponds.

Dog driving is the most fascinating of all winter sports and it is to be regretted that so few winter outers can take part in it. A dog team, to work well, or at all, must be driven by the owner or one to whom the dogs are accustomed. This makes dog driving an impossibility for most outers. A few women may be fortunate enough to possess a dog team or to obtain the services of a team and driver.

If she drives the team a bare toboggan is more convenient unless she is driving steady animals on a much driven trail. When she has learned to stand on the toboggan she can ride while watching the dogs.

On a trail with dogs that require little attention, or with a driver, a cariole will be more comfortable. In the north these are made with a high, turned hood and back and sides of raw hide lacings. An efficient substitute can be made with canvas sides and back tacked to a toboggan. Filled with blankets, this makes a warm, comfortable nest in which to ride.

Husky dogs are not necessary. Two good sized collies pulled me many miles one spring on good trails. While five or six dogs make a good team, few women are strong enough to manage so many. They can be stopped only by spoken commands, a pull on the tail rope or a drag on the traces. I have stopped a five-dog team of huskies by dragging along on one trace, and I have lost that same team because I could not get hold of a trace and my weight on the tail rope was not sufficient to stop them.

For women who have the time, inclination, and opportunity to break and drive a team of dogs, I can think of no greater fun. Any woman with average strength can break and manage a sufficient number of dogs to draw her with a speed that is exhilarating to say the least. There are not, however, enough women who will do this to warrant giving here a description of the harness and various methods of driving.

No matter what form the winter outing takes, be it hunting, snowshoeing, dog driving, or camping, the winter wilderness is an interesting and bewitching playground. Every animal that travels must leave a history of its movements, and in the tracks in the undisturbed snow one can read of the prowlings, still huntings, exciting chases, and often death grapples, of the forest dwellers. If care is exercised on the silent trails, some animals can be overtaken and watched, something impossible in the more noisy seasons of the year.

CHAPTER XII
GOING ALONE

Every woodswoman should learn to find her way alone, at least in the woods surrounding camp. In so doing she not only becomes the possessor of infinite possibilities for entertainment but she also develops a most pleasurable feeling of independence and self-reliance.

She should, however, advance cautiously in this field. In many places she could wander for days without meeting a person or finding a trail. The bugaboo of our childhood, losing one’s way in the woods, is a very real danger.

The first step is to learn thoroughly any trails about camp. Following abandoned trails is good practice. They have a most disconcerting way of vanishing suddenly, leaving one with only the vaguest notion of when and where they were last seen.

If there are no trails, it is even better fun to blaze new ones. These should be marked frequently and with clear blazes.

Having learned the trails, the next step is to learn the relation of one trail to another, their general directions and the geography of the district. After acquiring a clear knowledge of the larger features, such as the courses of streams and the positions of lakes, the direction of ridges and their relation to each other and to the intervening swamps, a woman can climb a hill and ascertain her position.

The smaller landmarks, such as trees, logs and windfalls, are next to valueless. There is always a large number of apparent duplicates, and, once away from the small landmark, there is no means of returning to it with certainty.

Making a map which shows trails, creeks, ridges, swamps, and lakes is the best test of one’s knowledge of the country. This should be referred to some one who knows the district thoroughly before it is used as a means of guidance.

No woman should attempt a long walk without a compass unless she is perfectly familiar with the country, and, to maintain the greatest margin of safety, not even then. A compass which is worn on the coat is referred to frequently and depended upon solely, with the result that the sense of direction is not exercised. It is better to carry a larger compass in a pocket and take it out only to confirm or correct the opinion. Emerson Hough, who has written one of the best articles on finding one’s way that I have ever read, recommends carrying two compasses. A panic stricken mind often will not believe one compass until it has been confirmed by a second.

Never rest a compass on a gun barrel. Set the gun against a tree and get away from it. Be informed as to the presence or absence of iron ore in the country. Such deposits may render a compass valueless. In using two compasses, never place them near each other.

There are various methods of ascertaining directions when there is no sun. I have been told any number of supposed facts by woodsmen, such as: The south side of a poplar is always brighter than the north; the south side of a tree has the larger limbs, the north side has more moss. After religiously trying these out, I have come to the conclusion that they are valueless in guiding one who is lost. The difference, if there is any, is so slight, and the imagination is such a large factor in determining the question, that a panic stricken mind would not be able to come to any definite decision.

By observing the direction of the wind when she starts on her walk, a woman will be helped in finding her way. She should be sure, however, that it has not changed its course. A fitful breeze may do this unnoticed, but a steady wind usually changes its direction only after a dead calm. A knowledge of the prevailing winds of the district and the direction from which the greatest number of bad windstorms come is of value. A majority of the windfalls lie away from the direction of bad storms and big timber in exposed spots is bowed by the prevailing gales. In studying windfalls, a decision should be reached only after a review of several and these in exposed places where the winds have not been diverted by hills or bodies of water.

If a woman is in an old logging district, logging and tote roads may be of value. These are distinguished by the heavy growth of young trees and bushes, such as black alder, and the absence of big timber. The height of the young trees is determined by the number of years since the road was used. A road abandoned for several years is difficult to walk on. There is a great difference between tote and logging roads. Tote roads are of usual width and lead from camps to the base of supplies in a town. Logging roads are from twenty-five to thirty feet wide and lead only from slashings to a lake, river, or steam logging road.

The most valuable factor in finding the way is the retention of a calm and panicless attitude. Many woodsmen suggest that a man, upon discovering that he is lost, should sit down and smoke. This composes his mind and enables him to review the situation logically. A woman who does not indulge in this calming habit should, by some other quieting process, get control of her thinking faculties before she goes any further.

The hysterical actions of those lost in the woods are well known. Strong, able men have been known to run, screaming, until they fell from exhaustion. I know of a man accustomed to woods travel who, yelling, ran around a cut out mining lot line, turned each of the four corners without knowing it and, when he came back to his starting place, did not recognize it.

The feeling of helpless terror when one realizes that she has lost all idea of direction in a virgin wilderness is unnerving. The first thing necessary is to overcome this. Often a woman will discover that she is not so badly lost as she first believed. It is not necessary to know one’s exact whereabouts every minute. If a woman knows her position within half a mile, or a mile, the way out is usually easy. This can be ascertained by climbing the nearest hill and determining her approximate position from her knowledge of the geography of the country.

If this is unsuccessful and a woman is still unable to gain her location, she should sit down and await her rescuers. Aimless wandering may prove fatal. The more of this she does the less chance there is of a searching party finding her. A mind busy in devising methods of making the wait in the forest comfortable is at least not urging a tired body on to futile, exhausting, blind rushes through the woods.

There is nothing more tiring, probably, than to fight a way through tangled brush. A little attention to the route will eliminate the worst of this. In choosing the way, do not pick out easy walking just ahead, but look rather from fifty to one hundred yards in advance. In this way one can avoid being brought up suddenly before a mass of windfalls which will necessitate either a detour or a fighting climb.

In passing windfalls step over, not upon, them whenever possible. Stepping up onto a fallen log necessitates lifting the entire weight the height of the windfall. This is hard work and far more tiring than swinging the leg over.

There is an interesting contrast between the methods employed by the woodsman and the novice in woods travel. Where the woodsman quickly and almost intuitively, it seems, picks out a way that offers the least resistance to his progress, the novice is constantly having to walk around or over tangled places toward which he has unconsciously been headed. The first throws his legs over windfalls with no apparent exertion, while the latter laboriously lifts his weight up onto each windfall and then steps down. The woodsman has, of course, through constant practice, unconsciously worked out the easiest methods of travel. The novice must, through observation and attention to detail, acquire the other’s habits if she will walk through the woods with the least possible effort.

Jumping from one hummock to another in crossing a swamp is one of the hardest kinds of woods travel. For this reason, if the swamp be long and there is a strong possibility of a treacherous knoll letting one into the water in the end, it is more advisable to save effort by plunging in at once and taking the inevitable wetting without futile struggle.

Whenever possible plan to have the hands unencumbered by bits of equipment. The lunch can be tied in a cloth sack and swung behind from the belt. A small packsack will carry safely and conveniently small game or collected specimens. Emergencies may arise at any moment which will require the use of both hands and arms. To make baggage transports of them is both unwise and inconvenient.

A study of woods signs, a knowledge of tracks and an interest in at least one of the natural sciences will make woods travel a hundred-fold more interesting, and it will lead to the accumulation of a great deal of valuable, out of the ordinary information.

In the “accompany” rather than the “follow” attitude lies one secret of making woods travel stimulating. There is nothing more deadening to interest than a blind, unknowing, “follow the leader” walk through the woods. Few of us enjoy doing that in which we have no responsibility or knowledge. A woman, both for interest and for safety, should know at least in what direction she is going and enough about the country to be able to retrace her route.

When a woman has learned to find her way with certainty and ease and has developed an interest in woods things, let her cast over this knowledge the magic mantle of oblivion to time and to schedule. Then she will have plumbed to the depths the joys of woods travel. For the woods walk must be an irresponsible one. To route it inexorably, to end it at a set time and place, is to rob it of one of its greatest charms. If the cultivation of this spirit is not possible, let that one walk alone according to her own schedule and not spoil the woods for others by her limiting presence.

CHAPTER XIII
CAMP COURTESY

A short chapter on the social aspects of woods life is not out of place. Not that women are in more need of this than are men, but often well bred men and women may, through ignorance and lack of thought, commit woods discourtesies when suddenly thrown into a new situation, the social necessities of which they have not fully realized. These may be of greater or less importance, but when women demand a lenient and charitable view of their deportment, by that very weakness they make impossible their reception on terms of equality and comradeship.

Almost every person who has gone into the woods in the company of others has remarked at some time or other, and in a tone suggestive of sorrowful disillusionment: “You never know people until you have camped with them.”

This is not because woods courtesy is so little understood by ordinary beings. Woods courtesy is not a different brand from that which governs our social intercourse elsewhere. In essence it is the same as any other, merely consideration for others, but the woods manifestation must take the form of physical exertion and must resist the devastating effects of physical discomfort and weariness. Those are the snags that tear the largest holes in our courtesy clothes.

It is for this reason that the reverse of disillusionment is also true, and that friends whose courtesy has once stood the woods test are friends indeed. They may prove disappointing in a dozen ways in town, but the memory of that woods expedition, where they remained cheerful and even tempered despite discomfort, always ready to do their share, always considerate of others, will have established a credit side on the ledger impossible to exhaust.

It sounds like a simple rule and one that should not strain the average person’s courtesy to the breaking point. It calls, unfortunately, for the use of a new set of courtesy muscles. Comfortable town life, with physical exertion cut almost to the minimum, has bred in us a sense of irritation over physical discomfort out of all proportion to life. Town courtesy has taken the form, so largely, of verbal rather than physical endeavor that it becomes difficult to exercise woods courtesy under trying conditions.

It is well to remember, however, that others are as tired as yourself, that what is a disagreeable task to you is as disagreeable to all, and that to endure discomfort with a martyr-like attitude will make all uncomfortable.

A camping party necessitates communal living. All questions must be decided by the rule of the majority and then embraced with enthusiasm and whole hearted approval, and, because woods life is communal and cannot be discontinued lightly or easily until the rasping things are forgotten, petty misunderstandings and brooding over the disagreeable must be eliminated. There is nothing more deadening to the social concord than undercurrents of ill feeling.

Often the best intentioned courtesy goes amiss through lack of thought. This is especially true of novice campers, and it is well before venturing too far off the camp schedule or usual routine to consider what effect this may have on the comfort of others. A trivial act may work great discomfort to fellow campers. Three of us were once stranded for a night, tentless, supperless and in an unknown part of the Ontario woods in mosquito season, because we were delayed two hours waiting for some letters a thoughtless person had forgotten to write.

System is one of the greatest lubricants of woods social life. It is also one of the best time and effort savers. Camp duties, while engrossing in their place, become wearisome and exacting when they spread through the day and leave no time for other woods activities, nor, because of their inexorable nature, can they be neglected. An undone woods task usually piles up work with compound interest in the end.

A system which divides the work among many and assigns each task to its place and time will more than repay in freedom and leisure for every one in camp. It is not less true of the woods than anywhere else that every one doing everything means nothing done well. A few days in camp will usually result in a system establishing itself. Tasks fall easily to the time and place and the one most fitted for them. Unconsciously a system will result if there are no shirkers. This need only be cemented by a few words of understanding and camp duties will thereafter seem almost to take care of themselves.

These are trivial things, all of them, but in woods life, where group interdependence is the rule, the reaction of one individual upon another is important, and the adjustment of the little things is, after all, one of the biggest problems of life.

CHAPTER XIV
THE FIRST TIME OUT

The first real camping is a change, a greater change than can be realized until it has actually been experienced. To take the plunge in one sudden leap is to run the risk of developing a hatred for all out of door things. For it is possible to become so weary, so burned, so lame and so bitten that never again could one be lured upon any expedition which remotely suggested the camping life. The greatest safeguard against such a state of mind lies in slow progress.

The most obvious field for caution lies in the costume. A woman who has been supported by corsets for years cannot discard them entirely without suffering discomfort and even risking serious trouble. She can, however, if she wishes to strengthen her back by developing muscle, go without her accustomed support for a short time each day, gradually lengthening the time until she can go without it entirely.

The change in footwear cannot be made comfortably with any less haste. To one who has always worn an exceedingly light weight, high-heeled shoe the heavier outing shoe with its unusually low heels is both uncomfortable and crippling. The gap may be bridged by wearing some kind of camp footwear which departs less radically from the style of shoe worn in town whenever the feet become tired in the outing shoe.

The skin presents as great a problem. Constant exposure, sun, and the bites of insects demand constant care even by the seasoned woodswoman. To the novice they bring greater discomfort and even danger, and the beginner should assure herself of a plentiful supply of the skin remedies and foods she has always used. It is never the sign of the hardy woodswoman to neglect these precautionary measures. Good woodcraft consists always of attaining the greatest comfort at the expense of the smallest effort. Once I had to curtail a delightful canoe trip because I had neglected to carry my pet remedy for poison ivy. My omission was the less defendable because I am susceptible to this poison.

Care should be exercised in preparing such an equipment in order not to acquire too many glass bottles. Many remedies commonly used as liquids can be obtained in tablet form. Tubes should be strong, for a flimsy tube is apt to give way under pressure in a packsack. One of the most efficient methods I have found for transporting creams and salves is to use strong, broad, flat tin boxes. I purchased these in a drug store and marked the contents on adhesive tape on the cover.

Activities should be graduated as carefully as are changes in dress. Woodcraft is a broad subject. Proficiency demands time and experience. It is neither necessary nor wise to try to learn all its phases at one time. Such a procedure would probably result in excessive weariness and in nothing learned well.

Choose the branch you feel interested in and most within your powers. When you have learned that phase the resultant feeling of confidence will aid you in the next step. It will also afford an absorbing interest which will tide you over the petty discomforts of your first camping experience, and most important of all, it will make you know the pleasure and joy in real woods endeavor.

But even in that one endeavor go slowly. The excessive use of unaccustomed muscles will result in a lameness which can become exceedingly painful. I shall never forget my first casting experience. So desirous was I of learning to cast with the same accuracy as my fishing companion I failed to stop at the first danger signal of fatigue. And it was some days before I felt the slightest desire to fish again with rod and reel.

Perhaps one of the greatest pitfalls for the inexperienced camper is the insufficient, or inefficient, outfit. This is most apt to be true of the week-end vacation. It is a great temptation for the woman who is making her first essay into woods life, and who has no assurance that she will care for it sufficiently ever to return to it, to try to make town clothes serve. This may be done to a certain extent, but to carry it out at the cost of woods comfort is to defeat her own ends. For if her woods clothes do not afford freedom, protection, durability, and do not allow her to participate comfortably in all the woods activities, she most probably will not wish to return to camping life. Only the greatest of outdoor enthusiasms could survive such an unfair trial.

But the real secret of easy and sure adaptation to woods life rests as much in the mental as in the physical equipment. The desire to learn to do for oneself, to observe and to discern the reasons for the various methods, will make the feminine outer a more pleasant companion and a happier woods dweller. For when she has taken herself from the ranks of spectators who find occupation in useless and unthinking questions into the ranks of real woodswomen who learn by doing rather than asking, she has taken her first step in successful camping.

The reward of this ability will be hers more than her associates. It will bring to her the gift of comfortable woods life, for it will teach her to overcome what are commonly called woods discomforts. The real woods dweller does not suffer these. She conquers them. In so doing she becomes a miracle worker, not a martyr.

There is, however, one mental attribute which will work more certain magic than any other. It is the possession of an open mind.

Woods life is different from any other. In it prevail different standards, different methods, and to the woman who can cast aside all preconceived ideas of life and enter it with all the fresh interest and whole hearted enjoyment with which she might have played when a little girl at being the wife of a hardy pioneer and Indian fighter, will come the thrill of real out of door living.

CHAPTER XV
THE SPIRIT OF THE OPEN

The first explanation of the difference of the impelling lure of the out of doors for men and for women lies in the difference in childhood activities. I can remember vividly the flutter and the death of the adventurous spirit in my little girlhood. It may be of value here because it is the average history of all little girls who played with their brothers.

Together my brothers and I had acted out the explosion in a factory. Shrilly the toy boiler had whistled. With awful clamor the piled up furniture had tumbled, and I had rushed to the scene of disaster, a wailing widow, to survey the lifeless body of my husband. Then we went through the more conscious stage when we hesitated at throwing ourselves into such games with the proper abandon. Our imagination vented itself rather on the activities of the dolls. One of our favorites was a prize fighting game. My choice in dolls was always Sullivan, while a brother’s enacted Corbett. Fiercely we fought, observing as best we could with the dolls the Queensbury rules. The first smashed head ended the battle. Owing to the high mortality of the doll population, this game was not looked upon with maternal favor and had to be indulged in under cover of a window seat.

As we grew older and required less close supervision, our games became of the neighborhood rather than of the family. Here began all the thrilling games of Indian fighting, pioneer days, pirates, and the other adventurous roles which the imagination of the boy can weave so wonderfully into action. I was enthralled and followed my brothers as a matter of course, for I had always played with them. The abrupt termination of these pastimes I can never forget.

A game of hares and hounds had been planned. The hare had been furnished with a bag of paper scraps. Rules had been laid down regarding the frequency with which these scraps must be dropped. With the excitement of this chase before me, I was waiting with the other hounds when a group of little girls passed. After surveying me scornfully for a moment, they told me with dispassionate frankness that I was a rough girl who played with boys.

No little girl who has ever been brought up with any idea of the proprieties could endure this taunt. Regretfully I turned from my companions and followed the girls. That day marked the death of my adventurous spirit. Dolls, I learned, were only to be dressed, rocked to sleep, undressed, spanked, nursed through illness and taken to afternoon teas. When that palled we might vary the monotony by dressing ourselves like grown-ups and visiting one another.

I gave up my time to these duties. I was bored, yet resigned, as, I fancy, are many girls both little and big who spend all their days in such activities, but never again did I defy the conventions by forsaking the company of girls.

So there was with me, as with most women, a complete lack of childhood memories of out of door adventures. Because of this lack I never experienced the least interest in the activities of the open until I was thrown bodily into them.

For it is the memory of boyhood games that keeps alive in men the outdoor play interest. When circumstances give them an opportunity to exercise it they turn instinctively to the out of doors. With women some acting force must bridge the gap between their early experiences and the open that lies waiting for them.

A love for the out of doors, although dormant, lies within most women. That it is so infrequently exhibited is due, to a large extent, to the means that are taken to awaken this spirit. No woman of any force will enjoy the role of passive observer for any length of time. Masculine activities with the rod, the gun, the paddle and other out of door impedimenta are interesting. They do pall, however, after much observation. Merely to watch them, and to enjoy the scenery, will never awaken a robust love for the out of doors.

The open is a place of doing, of exertion, of physical triumph. A woman, to really know and understand it, must learn at least one out of door activity sufficiently well to enjoy it. That interest will carry her beyond the petty things which annoy and cause discomfort in the first experience with the out of door life. That interest will give her the joy of physical competence and physical triumph. In so doing, it will open for her the door of understanding.

A woman may join out of door parties, but if there is in her a lack of experience of physical exertion and physical competence, which alone bring understanding, there will always be a barrier between her and equality and good fellowship with brother sportsmen and sportswomen.

It is through these physical experiences that there comes that intangible knowledge, the possession of which determines one’s rating as either a guest or a member of the out of door clan. Having once taken out membership, through physical competence in any out of door activity, all the perquisites of clan life will be hers. It will give to her a strong body, controlled nerves, and a poise and calmness of mind. It will open to her an enchanted playground in which she will find another plane of comradeship with the men of her family.

It will teach her to know and to feel the joy of maps, the lure of the wide spaces. It will arouse the adventurous, exploring spirit, and dim trails will beckon. And, while this spirit may never be satisfied in flesh and blood wanderings, it will take her into a new field of fiction from the pens of those who have done the things she may wish to do.

But, greater than all these, it will result in a growth and a development of her spiritual and her mental being. It will afford opportunity to tally her outlook on life with the big, inspiring forces of nature. The view can never but clear away much of the pettiness of life and give a saner idea of the true proportions, and by compliance with the requirements of true sportsmanship, there will be developed in woman a sense of fair play, a generosity, and a truth that will help her to measure up to the conditions and the possibilities of the new era that lies before her.

THE END

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