BEDDING.
General Remarks.--The most bulky, and often the heaviest, parts of a traveller's equipment are his clothes, sleeping-mat, and blankets: nor is it at all desirable that these should be stinted in quantity; for the hardship that most tries a man's constitution and lays the seeds of rheumatism, dysentery, and fever, is that of enduring the bitter cold of a stormy night, which may happen to follow an exhausting day of extreme heat or drenching wet. After many months' travel and camping, the constitution becomes far less susceptible of injury from cold and damp, but in no case is it ever proof against their influence. Indeed, the oldest travellers are ever those who go the most systematically to work, in making their sleeping-places dry and warm. Unless a traveller makes himself at home and comfortable in the bush, he will never be quite contented with his lot; but will fall into the bad habit of looking forwards to the end of his journey, and to his return to civilisation, instead of complacently interesting himself in its continuance. This is a frame of mind in which few great journeys have been successfully accomplished; and an explorer who cannot divest himself of it, may suspect that he has mistaken his vocation.
It is a common idea among men who are preparing to travel for the first time, that all the bed-clothing about which they need concern themselves, is a sufficiency to cover them, forgetting that a man has an under as well as an upper side to keep warm, and must therefore have clothing between him and the earth, as well as between him and the air. Indeed, on trying the experiment, and rolling oneself up in a single blanket, the undermost side in a cold night is found to be by far the colder of the two. The substance of the blanket is compressed by the weight of the sleeper; the interstices between its fibres cease to exist; and the air which they contained and which is a powerful non-conductor of heat, is squeezed out. Consequently wherever the blanket is compressed, its power of retaining the heat of the sleeper is diminished. Soft fleecy substances, like eider-down quilts, which are extremely warm as coverlets, are well-nigh useless as mattresses. There is another cause why a sleeper requires more protection from below, than from above: it is that if the ground be at all wet, its damp will penetrate through very thick substances laid upon it. It will therefore be clearly understood that the object of a mattress is not alone to give softness to the bed, but also to give warmth; and that if a man lies in a hammock, with only the hammock below, and blankets above, he will be fully as much chilled as if the arrangement had been reversed, and he had lain upon blankets, with only the hammock as a sheet to cover him.
Vital Heat.--The vital heat of a man, either in an active or a latent form, is equal to that which is given out by two ordinary candles: I judge so from the following reasons. All our vital heat is produced by the combustion--for it is simple combustion--of the carbon in our food. Now the quantity of carbon consumed by a man in full diet, in 24 hours, is about 22 oz. in weight. On the other hand, I find that ordinary candles, which mainly consist of carbon, burn at the rate of 11 oz. in 24 hours. Therefore the heat given out by two candles is just about the same as that given out by one man, either in a sensible form, or else under a latent form by the vapour of the breath. Secondly, I have frequently heard it estimated, as the result of the ordinary experience of social life, that a saloon is warmed by each couple of candles somewhat more than it is by the presence of a single guest. Where I write these lines, I have not an opportunity of verifying my rough estimate, by reference to physiological works, but accuracy is of little consequence to my present purpose, which is to give a general idea of the magnitude of the problem to be solved by clothes and tenting. Their joint office is to retain the heat of a mass of flesh and blood, the size and shape of a man, warmed by two candles burning within it, at a temperature of not less than 96 degrees in its inward parts.
Mattresses and their Substitutes.--A Strip of Macintosh.--If a traveller can do so, he should make a point of having a strip of macintosh sheeting 7 feet by 4, certainly not less than 6 feet by 3, to lay on the ground below his bedding. Every white servant in the expedition ought to be furnished with a strip of macintosh sheeting, or, failing that, with a strip of painted canvas. However, painted cloth is much inferior to macintosh, as it will not fold up without cracking: it also tears easily, and is heavy. Macintosh, of the sort that suits all climates, and made of linen, not of silk, is invaluable to an explorer, whether in the form of sheeting, coats, water-bags. swimming belts, or inflatable boats. A little box full of the composition for mending it, and a spare bit of macintosh, should always be taken.
Mattress.--Making a mattress is indeed a very simple affair. A bag of canvas, or other cloth, is made of the size wanted. It is then stuffed full of hair, wool, dry leaves, or cotton, and a strong stitch is put through it every few inches. The use of the stitching is to prevent the stuffing from being displaced, and forming lumps in different parts of the bag.
Palliasse.--Straw, well knitted or plaited together, forms a good mattress, commonly called a palliasse.
Shavings of Wood.--Eight pounds' weight of shavings make an excellent bed, and I find I can cut them with a common spokeshave, in 3 1/2 hours, out of a log of deal. It is practicable to make an efficient spokeshave, by tying a large clasp-knife on a common stick which has been cut into a proper shape to receive it.
Oakum.--Old cord, picked into oakum, will also make a bed.
Various Makeshifts.--If a traveller, as is very commonly the case, should have no mattress, he should strew his sleeping-place with dry grass, plucked up from the ground, or with other things warm to the touch, imitating the structure of a bird's-nest as far as he has skill and materials to do so. Leaves, fern, feathers, heather, rushes, flags of reeds and of maize, wood-shavings, bundles of faggots, and such like materials as chance may afford, should be looked for and appropriated; a pile of stones, or even two trunks of trees rolled close together, may make a dry bedstead in a marshy land. Over these, let him lay whatever empty bags, skins, saddle-cloths, or spare clothes he may have, which from their shape or smallness cannot be turned to account as coverings, and the lower part of his bed is complete.
If a night of unusual cold be expected, the best use to make of spare wearing-apparel, is to put it on over that which is already on the person. With two or three shirts, stockings, and trousers, though severally of thin materials, a man may get through a night of very trying weather.
Preparing the Ground for a Bed.--Travellers should always root up the stones and sticks that might interfere with the smoothness of the place where they intend to sleep. This is a matter worth taking a great deal of pains about; the oldest campaigners are the most particular in making themselves comfortable at night. They should also scrape a hollow in the ground, of the shape shown in fig. 2 (next page), before spreading their sleeping-rugs. It is disagreeable enough to lie on a perfectly level surface, like that of a floor, but the acme of discomfort is to lie upon a convexity. Persons who have omitted to make a shapely lair for themselves, should at least scrape a hollow in the ground, just where the hip-bone would otherwise press.
The annexed sketch (fig. 1) represents a man sleeping in a natural attitude. It will be observed that he fits into a concavity of about 6 inches in greatest depth. (The scale on which he is drawn is 6 feet long and 1 foot high.)
Hammocks.--See section on "furniture."
Coverlets.--General Remarks.--For an upper cover, it is of importance to an otherwise unsheltered person, that its texture should be such as to prevent the wind blowing through. If it does so, no thickness is of any avail in keeping out the cold; hence the advantage of skin carosses, buffalo robes, leather sheets, and macintosh rugs. All clothes lose much of their closeness of texture in a hot, dry climate; the fibres shrink extremely, and the wind blows through the tissue as through network. It is in order to make their coverings wind-proof, that shepherd-lads on the hills in Scotland, when the nights are cold, dip their plaids in water, before sitting or lying down in them. The wet swells up the fibres of the plaid, and makes the texture of it perfectly dense and close. It is also of importance that the outer covering should have a certain weight, so as not to be too easily displaced, either by the person fidgeting in his sleep or by the blowing of the wind. In dry weather there is nothing like furs; but in a rainy country I prefer a thick blanket bag (see "Sleeping Bags"), a large spare blanket, and a macintosh sheet and counterpane. It may be objected that the bag and macintosh would be close and stuffy, but be assured that the difficulty when sleeping on mother earth, on a bitter night, is to keep the fresh air out, not to let it in. On fine nights I should sleep on the bag and under the spare blanket.
Stuffy Bedding.--It must be understood that while recommending coverlets that resist the wind, I am very far from advocating extreme stuffiness, and for the following reason. Though a free passage of the wind abstracts an excessive amount of animal heat from the sleeper, yet the freshness of pure air stimulates his body to give it out in an increased proportion. On the other hand, sleeping-clothes that are absolutely impervious to the passage of the wind, necessarily retain the cutaneous excretions: these poison the sleeper, acting upon his blood through his skin, and materially weaken his power of emitting vital heat: the fire of his life burns more languidly. I therefore suspect it would be more dangerous to pass a very cold night enclosed tightly in thin macintosh buttoned up to the chin, than without it. Much less heat would be robbed from the sleeper in the first case, but he would have very much less heat to spare. There is, therefore, an intermediate arrangement of sleeping-gear, neither too stuffy on the one hand nor too open on the other, by which the maximum power of resisting the chill of the night is obtainable.
Sleeping Clothes.--Some travellers prefer to have their blanket at once made up into a loose coat, trousers, and cap, pockets ad libitum, and a tape in the trouser band. An extra suit is thus always at hand, the sleeper loses little of the advantages of comfortable bedding, and is always, in some sense, dressed for any emergency.
Feathers.--When you collect bed feathers for coverlets, recollect that if they are cleanly plucked, they will require no dressing of any kind, save drying and beating.
Brown Paper.--Brown paper is an excellent non-conductor of heat and excluder of draughts: English cottagers often enclose sheets of it within their quilted counterpanes. If thoroughly soaked and then dried, it will not crackle.
Extra Clothes.--If a man be destitute of proper wraps, he cannot do better than put on all the spare clothes he possesses. The additional warmth of a single extra shirt is remarkable.
Dry Clothes.--However wet the weather may be during the day, the traveller should never relax his endeavours to keep a dry and warm change of clothes for his bivouac at night. Hardships in rude weather matter little to a healthy man, when he is awake and moving, and while the sun is above the horizon; but let him never forget the deplorable results that may follow a single night's exposure to cold, malaria, and damp.
Pillows.--A mound of sand or earth, scraped together for a pillow, is ground down into flatness, after a few minutes. A bag filled with earth, or it may be with grass, keeps its shape. Many people use their saddles as pillows; they roll up the flaps and stirrups, and place the saddle on the ground with a stone underneath, at its hindmost end, to keep it level and steady, and then lay their heads on the seat. I prefer using anything else; as, for instance, the stone without the saddle: but I generally secure some bag or other for the purpose, as, without a pillow, it is difficult to sleep in comfort. A bag shaped like a pillow-case, and stuffed with spare clothes, is very convenient. Some people advocate air-cushions.
Mr. Mansfield Parkyns' excellent plan, of sleeping on the side, with the stock of the gun between the head and the arm, and the barrel between the legs, will be described when I speak of "Guns."