The Art of Travel; Or, Shifts and Contrivances Available in Wild Countries

by Francis Galton

FOOD.

The nutritive Elements of Food.--Many chemists have applied themselves in recent years, to discover the exact percentage of nutriment contained in different substances, and to determine the minimum nutriment on which human life can be supported. The results are not very accordant, but nevertheless a considerable approximation to truth has been arrived at. It is now possible to tell whether a proposed diet has any great faults of excess or deficiency, and how to remedy those faults. But it also must be recollected that the stomach is an assimilating machine of limited performance, and must be fed with food that it can digest; it is not enough that the food should contain nutritious matter, if that matter should be in an indigestible form. Burke and Wills perished from sheer inability to digest the seeds upon which the Australian savages lived; and Gardiner's party died of starvation in Tierra del Fuego, because they could not digest the shell-fish which form a common article of diet of the natives of that country. The question of diet must then be limited to food that is perfectly digestible by the traveller. It remains to learn how much nourishment is contained in different kinds of digestible food. Dr. Smith has recently written an elaborate essay on this subject, applying his inquiries chiefly to the food of the poor in England; but for my more general purpose, as it is impossible to do justice to a large and imperfectly understood subject, in the small space I can give to it, it will be better that I should reprint the results given in my previous edition. These are principally extracted from a remarkable paper by Dr. Christison, inserted in the Bluebook Report of the Commission of Inquiry on Crimean matters, in which the then faulty dietary of our soldiers was discussed. It appears 1st, that a man of sedentary life can exist in health on seventeen ounces per day of real nutriment; that a man engaged in active life requires fully twenty-eight ounces per day; and, during severe labour, he requires thirty ounces, or even more. 2ndly, that this nutriment must consist of three-quarters, by weight, of one class of nutritive principles, (C), and one quarter of another class of nutritive principles, (N); 3rdly, that all the articles of common food admit of being placed, as below, in a Table, by which we see at a glance how much nutriment of class C, and how much of class N, is found in 100 parts, gross weight of any of them. Thus, by a simple computation, the effective value of a dietary may be ascertained. Class C, are the carboniferous principles, that maintain respiration; Class N, are the nitrogenous principles, that repair waste of tissue. N will partly replace C, but at a great waste: C will not replace N.

A large number of diets such as those of various armies and navies, of prisons and infirmaries, and of the ordinary diets of different classes of people, have been examined by aid of this Table, with surprisingly uniform results. But these diets chiefly refer to temperate climates; it would therefore be a matter of great interest if travellers in distant lands would accurately observe and note down the weight of their own rations and those of the natives. It is a great desideratum to know the lightest portable food suitable to different countries. Any such reports, if carefully made and extending over a period of not less than two months, would be very acceptable to me. To make them of any use, it is necessary that every article consumed should be noted down; and that the weight and state of health, at the beginning and at the end of the period, should be compared.

As examples of the way in which the above Tables should be applied, I will now give three dietaries, in which the quantity of real nutriment has been calculated.

N.B.--Besides this, is beer (in harbour only) sixteen ounces, or spirits four ounces.

Table II. shows the daily food actually consumed by probably the most energetic travelling and exploring party on record. It was during Dr. Rae's spring journey to the Arctic shores of America. He issued, in addition, four ounces of grease or alcohol a day, as fuel for cooking. He found that it required nearly as much fuel to melt the snow, as it did to boil it afterwards. This allowance was found quite sufficient, but there was nothing to spare.

Game was occasionally shot, by which the serious deficiency in Class N must have been supplied. At the same time, I must say that Australian explorers seem to travel exceedingly well on unusually scanty diets.

Food Suitable for the Stores of Travellers.--The most portable kind of food is, unquestionably, the flesh of cattle; for the beasts carry themselves. The draught oxen used in African and Australian explorations serve as a last resource, when all other food is wanting.

It has been truly remarked with reference to Australian exploring expeditions, that if an exploring party would make up their minds to eat horseflesh, stores of provisions might be largely dispensed with. A few extra horses could be taken; and one shot occasionally, and its flesh dried and slightly salted, sufficiently to preserve it from becoming tainted before the men could consume it.

Portable Food.--The kinds of food that are the most portable in the ordinary sense of the term are:--Pemmican; meat-biscuit; fried meat; dried fish; wheat flour; biscuit; oatmeal; barley; peas; cheese; sugar; preserved potatoes; and Chollet's compressed vegetables. Extract of meat, as I am assured by the highest physiological authors, is not a portable food but a portable savour. It is quite impossible that life should be maintained on any minute amount of material, because so many grains of carbon and so many of nitrogen are daily consumed, and an equivalent weight of those elements must, of course, be replaced. Salt meat is not to be depended upon, for it is liable to become hard and worthless, by long keeping.

Pemmican; general remarks.--Of all food usually carried on expeditions, none is so complete in itself, nor contains so large a proportion of nutriment as pemmican. It is especially useful to those who undergo severe work, in cold and rainy climates. It is the mainstay of Arctic expeditions, whether on water, by sledge, or on foot. But, though excellent to men who are working laboriously, it is distasteful to others.

Pemmican is a mixture of about five-ninths of pounded dry meat to four-ninths of melted or boiled grease; it is put into a skin bag or tin can whilst warm and soft. The grease ought not to be very warm, when poured on the dry meat. Wild berries are sometimes added. The skin bags for the pemmican should be shaped like pillow (not bolster) cases, for the convenience of packing on horseback. The pemmican is chopped out with an axe, when required.

I do not know if it can be bought anywhere in England. It was usually prepared in the government yards at Deptford, when made for the Arctic Expeditions. It is largely used in the Hudson's Bay territory. A traveller who desired to furnish himself with pemmican might procure his supplies from thence.

Pemmican, as made in England.--Sir John Richardson describes, in his Narrative, the preparation of the pemmican that he took with him in his last journey. The following is a résumé of what he says:--The meat used was round of beef; the fat and membranous parts were pared away; it was then cut into thin slices, which were dried in a malt-kiln, over an oak-wood fire, till they were quite dry and friable. Then they were ground in a malt mill; after this process the powder resembled finely-grated meal. It was next mixed with nearly an equal weight of melted beef, suet, or lard; and the plain pemmican was made. Part of the pemmican was mixed with Zante currants, and another part with sugar. Both of these mixtures were much liked, especially the latter. The pemmican, when complete, cost at the rate of 1x. u 1/2 d. per pound, but then the meat was only 6 3/4 d. per pound; it is dearer now. The meat lost more than three-quarters of its weight in drying. He had 17,424 lbs. of pemmican in all; it was made from--fresh beef, 35,641 lbs; lard9 lbs.; currants3 lbs.; and sugar lbs.

Pemmican, as made in the Prairie.--Mr. Ballantyne, who was in the service of the Hudson's Bay Company, gives the following account:--"Having shot a buffalo, the hunters cut lumps of his flesh, and slitting it up into flakes or layers, hang it up in the sun, or before a slow fire, to dry; and the fat can be dried as well as the lean. In this state, it is often made into packs, and sent about the country, to be consumed as dried meat (it is often best relished raw, for, when grilled without fat, it burns and becomes ashy); but when pemmican is wanted, it has to go through another process. When dry, the meat is pounded between two stones till it is broken into small pieces: these are put into a bag made of the animal's hide, with the hair on the outside, and well mixed with melted grease; the top of the bag is then sewn up, and the pemmican allowed to cool. In this state it may be eaten uncooked; but the men who subsist on it when travelling, mix it with a little flour and water, and then boil it--in which state it is know throughout the country by the elegant name of robbiboo. Pemmican is good wholesome food; will keep fresh for a great length of time; and, were it not for its unprepossessing appearance, and a good many buffalo hairs mixed with it, through the carelessness of the hunters, would be very palatable. After a time, however, one becomes accustomed to these little peculiarities."

Meat-biscuit.--Meat-biscuit, which is used in American ships, is stated to be a thick soup, evaporated down to a syrup, kneaded with flour, and made into biscuits: these are pricked with holes, dried and baked. They can be eaten just as they are, or made into a porridge, with from twenty to thirty times their weight of water. They were to be bought at Gamble's, Leadenhall Street.

Dried Meat.--When more game is shot than can be eaten before the party travel onwards, it is usual to jerk a part of it. It is cut in long strips, and festooned about the bushes, under the full sun, in order to dry it. After it has been sun-dried it will keep for long, before it becomes wholly putrid. Dried meat is a poor substitute for fresh meat; it requires long steeping in water, to make it tender, and then it is tasteless, and comparatively innutritious. "Four expert men slice up a full-grown buffalo in four hours and a-half." (Leichhardt.) The American buccaneers acquired their name from boucan--which means jerked meat, in an Indian dialect; for they provisioned their ships with the dried flesh of the wild cattle that they hunted down and killed.

Dried Fish.--Fish may be pounded entire, just as they come from the river, dried in the sun in large lumps, and kept: the negroes about the Niger do this.

Flour travels conveniently in strong canvas bags, each holding 50 lbs., and long enough to be lashed on to a pack-saddle. (See "Pack-gabs," p. 71.)

Chollet's preserved Vegetables relieve agreeably the monotony of a bush diet. A single ration weighs less than an ounce, and a cubic yard contains 16,000 of these rations. They are now to be bought at all provision merchants'--as at Fortnum and Mason's, etc.

Salted Meat.--I have already said (see "Portable Food") that salt meat cannot be depended upon to retain its nutritious qualities for a length of time. When freshly made, it is sure to be good. It is well to recollect that, for want of a salting-tub, animals can be salted in their own hide. A hollow is scraped in the ground, the hide is laid over it and pegged down, and the meat, salt, and water put into it. I know of an instance where this was one on a very large scale.

Condiments.--The most portable and useful condiments for a traveller are--salt, red pepper, Harvey's sauce, lime-juice, dried onions, and curry-powder. They should be bought at a first-rate shop; for red pepper, lime-juice, and curry-powder are often atrociously adulterated.

Salt.--The craving for salt (chloride of sodium) is somewhat satisfied by the potash salts, and, perhaps, by other minerals: thus we often hear of people reduced to the mixing of gun-powder with their food, on account of the saltpetre that it contains. An impure salt is made widely in North Africa, from wood-ashes. They are put into a pot, hot water is poured over them and allowed to stand and dissolve out the salts they contain; the ley is then decanted into another pot, where it is evaporated. The plants in use, are those of which the wetted ashes have a saline and not an alkaline taste, nor a soapy feel. As a general rule, trees that make good soap (p. 122), yield little saltpetre or other good equivalent for salt. Salt caravans are the chief sustainers of the lines of commerce in North Africa. In countries where salt is never used, as I myself have witnessed in South Africa, and among the Mandan North-American Indian tribes (Catlin, vol. i, p. 124), the soil and springs are "brack." Four Russian sailors who were wrecked on Spitzbergen, and whose well-known adventures are to be found in Pinkerton's 'Voyages and Travels,' had nothing whatever for six years to subsist on--save only the animals they killed, a little moss, and melted snow-water. One of them died; the others enjoyed robust health. People who eat nothing but meat, feel the craving for salt far less strongly than those who live wholly on vegetables.

Butcher.--One man in every party should have learnt from a professed butcher, how to cut up a carcase to the best advantage.

Store-keeping.--All stores should be packed and securely lashed, that it may be impossible to pilfer from them. The packages of those that are in use, should be carried in one pair of saddle-gabs, to be devoted to that purpose. These should stand at the storekeeper's bivouac, and nobody else should be allowed to touch them, when there. He should have every facility for weighing and measuring. Lastly, it should be his duty to furnish a weekly account, specifying what stores remain in hand.

Wholesome Food, procurable in the Bush.--Game and Fish.--See sections upon "Hints on Shooting;" "Other means of capturing Game;" and upon "Fishing;" and note the paragraph on "Nocturnal Animals."

Milk, to keep.--Put it in a bottle, and place it in a pot of water, over a slow fire, till the water boils; let the bottle remain half an hour in the boiling water, and then cork it tightly. Milk with one's tea is a great luxury; it is worth taking some pains to keep it fresh. A traveller is generally glutted with milk when near native encampments, and at other times has none at all. Milk dried into cakes, intended to be grated into boiling water for use, was formerly procurable: it was very good; but I cannot hear of it now in the shops. Milk preserved in tins is excellent, but it is too bulky for the convenience of most travellers. Dried bread-crumb, mixed with fresh cream, issaid to make a cake that will keep for some days. I have not succeeded, to my satisfaction with this recipe.

Butter, to preserve.--Boil it in a large vessel till the scum rises. Skim this off as fast as it appears on the surface, until the butter remains quite clear, like oil. It should then be carefully poured off, that the impurities which settle at the bottom of the vessel may be separated. The clarified butter is to be put aside to be kept, the settlings must be used for common and immediate purposes. Butter is churned, in many countries, by twirling a forked stick, held between the two hands, in a vessel full of cream; or even by shaking the cream in a bottle. It is said that the temperature of the milk, while it is being churned, should be between 50 degrees and 60 degrees Fahr., and that this is all-important to success.

Cheese.--"The separation of the whey from the cheese may be effected by rennet, or by bitartrate of potash, or tamarinds, or alum, or various acids and acid wines and fruit juices." (Dr. Weber.)

Eggs may be dried at a gentle heat; then pounded and preserved. This is a convenient plan of making a store of portable food out of the eggs of sea-birds, or those of ostriches.

Fish-roe is another kind of portable food. The chemists declare its composition to be nearly identical with that of ordinary eggs. (Pereira.) Caviare is made out of any kind of fish-roe; but the recherché sort, only from that of the sturgeon. Long narrow bags of strong linen, and a strong brine, are prepared. The bags are half-filled with the roe, and are then quite filled with the brine, which is allowed to ooze through slowly. This being done, the men wring the bags strongly with their hands, and the roe is allowed to dry. Roe-broth is a good dish.

Honey, to find, when Bees are seen.--Dredge as many bees as you can, with flour from a pepper-box; or else catch one of them, tie a feather or a straw to his leg, which can easily be done (natives thrust it up into his body), throw him into the air, and follow him as he flies slowly to his hive; or catch two bees, and turning them loose at some distance apart, search the place towards which their flights converge. But if bees are too scarce for either of these methods, choose an open place, and lay in it a plate of syrup as a bait for the bees; after one has fed and flown away again, remove the plate 200 yards in the direction in which he flew; and proceed in the same sort of way, until the nest is found.

Honey-bird.--The instinct of the honey-bird is well-known, which induces him to lead men to hives, that he may share in the plunder. The stories that are told of the apparent malice of the bird, in sometimes tricking a man, and leading him to the lair of wild animals, instead of to the bees' nest, are well authenticated.

Revolting Food, that may save the Lives of Starving Men.--Suspicion of Poison.--If any meat that you may find, or if the water of any pool at which you encamp, is under suspicion of being poisoned, let one of your dogs eat or drink before you do, and wait an hour to watch the effect of it upon him.

Carrion is not noxious to Starving Men.--In reading the accounts of travellers who have suffered severely from want of food, a striking fact is common to all, namely, that, under those circumstances, carrion and garbage of every kind can be eaten without the stomach rejecting it. Life can certainly be maintained on a revolting diet, that would cause a dangerous illness to a man who was not compelled to adopt it by the pangs of hunger. There is, moreover, a great difference in the power that different people possess of eating rank food without being made ill by it. It appears that no flesh, and very few fish, are poisonous to man; but vegetables are frequently poisonous.

Dead Animals, to find.--The converging flight of crows, and gorged vultures sitting on trees, show where dead game is lying; but it is often very difficult to find the carcase; for animals usually crawl under some bush or other hiding-place, to die. Jackal-tracks, etc., are often the only guide. It may be advisable, after an unsuccessful search, to remove to some distance, and watch patiently throughout the day, until the birds return to their food, and mark them down.

Rank Birds.--When rank birds are shot, they should be skinned, not plucked; for much of the rankness lies in their skin; or, if unskinned, they should be buried for some hours, because earth absorbs the oil that makes them rank. Their breast and wings are the least objectionable parts, and, if there be abundance of food, should alone be cooked. Rank sea-birds, when caught, put in a coop, and fed with corn, were found by Captain Bligh to become fat and well-tasted.

Skins.--All old hides or skins of any kind that are not tanned are fit and good for food; they improve soup by being mixed with it; or they may be toasted and hammered. Long boiling would make glue or gelatine of them. Many a hungry person has cooked and eaten his sandals or skin clothing.

Bones contain a great deal of nourishment, which is got at by boiling them, pounding their ends between two stones, and sucking them. There is a revolting account in French history, of a beseiged garrison of Sancerre, in the time of Charles IX., and again subsequently at Paris, and it may be elsewhere, digging up the graveyards for bones as sustenance.

Blood from Live Animals.--The Aliab tribe, who have great herds of cattle on the White Nile, "not only milk their cows, but they bleed their cattle periodically, and boil the blood for food. Driving a lance into a vein in the neck, they bleed the animal copiously, which operation is repeated about once a month." (Sir S. Baker.)

Flesh from Live Animals.--The truth of Bruce's well-known tale of the Abyssinians and others occasionally slicing out a piece of a live ox for food is sufficiently confirmed. Thus Dr. Beke observes, "There could be no doubt of the fact. He had questioned hundreds of natives on the subject, and though at first they positively declared the statement to be a lie, many, on being more closely questioned, admitted the possibility of its truth, for they could not deny that cattle are frequently attacked by hyaenas, whose practice is to leap on the animals from behind and at once begin devouring the hind quarters; and yet, if driven off in time, the cattle have still lived."--Times, Jan. 167.

It is reasonable enough that a small worn-out party should adopt this plan, when they are travelling in a desert where the absence of water makes it impossible to delay, and when they are sinking for want of food. If the ox were killed outright there would be material for one meal only, because a worn-out party would be incapable of carrying a load of flesh. By the Abyssinian plan the wounded beast continues to travel with the party, carrying his carcase that is destined to be turned into butcher's meat for their use at a further stage. Of course the idea is very revolting, for the animal must suffer as much as the average of the tens or hundreds of wounded hares and pheasants that are always left among the bushes after an ordinary English battue. To be sure, the Abyssinian plan should only be adopted to save human life.

When I travelled in South-West Africa, at one part of my journey a plague of bush-ticks attacked the roots of my oxen's tails. Their bites made festering sores, which ended in some of the tails dropping bodily off. I heard such accidents were not at all uncommon. The animals did not travel the worse for it. Now ox-tail soup is proverbially nutritious.

Insects.--Most kinds of creeping things are eatable, and are used by the Chinese. Locusts and grasshoppers are not at all bad. To prepare them, pull off the legs and wings and roast them with a little grease in an iron dish, like coffee. Even the gnats that swarm on the Shiré River are collected by the natives and pressed into cakes.

Wholesome and poisonous Plants.--No certain rule can be given to distinguish wholesome plants from poisonous ones; but it has been observed that much the same thing suits the digestion of a bird that suits that of a man; and, therefore, that a traveller, who otherwise would make trials at haphazard, ought to examine the contents of those birds' crops that he may catch or shoot, to give a clue to his experiments. The rule has notable exceptions, but in the absence of any other guide it is a very useful one.

The only general rules that botany can give are vague and full of exceptions: they are, that a great many wholesome plants are found among the Cruciferae, or those whose petals are arranged like a Maltese cross, and that many poisonous ones are found amongst the Umbelliferae.

Nettle and Fern.--There are two moderately nutritious plants--nettle and fern--that are found wild in very many countries: and, therefore, the following extract from Messrs. Hue and Gabet's 'Travels in Thibet' may be of service:--"When the young stems of ferns are gathered, quite tender, before they are covered with down, and while the first leaves are bent and rolled up in themselves, you have only to boil them in pure water to realise a dish of delicious asparagus. We would also recommend the nettle, which, in our opinion, might be made an advantageous substitute for spinach; indeed more than once we proved this by our own experience. The nettle should be gathered quite young, when the leaves are perfectly tender. The plant should be pulled up whole, with a portion of the root. In order to preserve your hands from the sharp biting liquid which issues from the points, you should wrap them in linen of close texture. When once the nettle is boiled, it is perfectly innocuous; and this vegetable, so rough in its exterior, becomes a very delicate dish. We were able to enjoy this delightful variety of esculents for more than a month. Then the little tubercles of the fern became hollow and horny, and the stems themselves grew as hard as wood while the nettle, armed with a long white beard, p 203 presented only a menacing and awful aspect." The roots of many kinds of ferns, perhaps of all of them, are edible. Our poor in England will eat neither fern nor nettle: they say the first is innutritious, and the second acrid. I like them both.

Seaweed.--Several kinds of seaweed, such as Laver and Irish moss, are eatable.

Cooking Utensils.--Cookery books.--A book on cooking is of no use at all in the rougher kinds of travel, for all its recipes consist of phrases such as "Take a pound of so-and-so, half a pound of something else, a pinch of this, and a handful of that." Now in the bush a man has probably none of these things--he certainly has not all of them--and, therefore, the recipe is worthless.

Pots and Kettles.--Cooking apparatus of any degree of complexity, and of very portable shapes, can be bought at all military outfitters'; but for the bush, and travelling roughly, nothing is better than a light roomy iron pot and a large strong tin kettle. It is disagreeable to make tea in the same pot that meat is boiled in; besides, if you have only one vessel, it takes a longer time to prepare meals. If possible, take a second small tin kettle, both as a reserve against accidents and for the convenience of the thing. An iron pot, whose lid is the size of the crown of a hat, cooks amply enough for three persons at a time, and can, without much inconvenience, be made to do double duty; and, therefore, the above articles would do for six men. An iron pot should have very short legs, or some blow will break one of them off and leave a hole. Iron kettles far outwear tin ones, but the comparative difficulty of making them boil, and their great weight, are very objectionable. A good tin kettle, carefully cherished (and it is the interest of the whole party to watch over its safety), lasts many months in the bush. Copper is dangerous; but the recipe is given, further on, for tinning copper vessels when they require it. Have the handle of the kettle notched or bored near the place where it joins the body of the kettle, so as to give a holding by which the lid may be tied tightly down; then, if you stuff a wisp of grass into the spout, the kettle will carry water for a journey.

Damaged Pots.--A pot or kettle with a large hole in its bottom, filled up with a piece of wood, has been made to boil water by burying it a little way in the earth and making the fire round it. A hole in the side of a pot can be botched up with clay or wood, so as not to leave it altogether useless.

Substitutes for Pots and Kettles.--It is possible to boil water over a slow fire in many kinds of vessels that would be destroyed by a greater degree of heat. In bark, wooden, skin, and even paper vessels, it is quite possible to boil water. The ruder tribes of the Indian Archipelago use a bamboo to boil their rice: "The green cane resisting the fire sufficiently long for the cooking of one mass of rice." (Crawfurd.) If, however, you have no vessel that you choose to expose to the risk of burning, you must heat stones and drop them into the water it contains; but sandstones, especially are apt to shiver and make grit. The Dacota Indians, and very probably other tribes also, used to boil animals in their own hide. The description runs thus: "They stuck four stakes in the ground, and tied the four corners of the hide up to them, leaving a hollow in the middle; three or four gallons of water, and the meat cut up very fine, were then put in; three or four hot stones, each the size of a 6-lb. cannon-shot, cooked the whole into a good soup." To a fastidious palate, the soot, dirt, and ashes that are usually mixed up with the soup, are objectionable; but these may be avoided by a careful cook, who dusts and wipes the stones before dropping them in. The specific heat of stone is much less than that of water, so that the heating power of a measure of stone is only about one-half of that of an equal measure of equally hot water.

Graters are wanted to grate jerked meat. A piece of tin, punched through with holes, then bent a little, and nailed to a piece of wood, makes a good one.

Sieves.--Stretch parchment (which see) on a wooden hoop, exactly as on a drum-head; let it dry, and prick it with a red-hot iron, else punch it full of small holes.

Plates, to carry.--I have travelled much with plates, knives, forks, etc., for three persons, carried in a flat leather case like a portfolio, which hung from the side of the cook's saddle, and I found it very convenient. It was simply a square piece of leather, with a large pocket for the metal plates, and other smaller ones for the rest of the things; it had a flap to tie over it, which was kept down with a button.

Cups.--Each of the men, on a riding expedition, should carry his own tin mug, either tied to his waist or to his saddle. A wooden bowl is the best vessel for tea, and even for soup, if you have means of frequently washing it: tin mugs burn the lips too much. Wooden bowls are always used in Thibet; they are cut out of the knots that are found in timber.

Spoons.--It is easy to replace a lost spoon by cutting a new one out of hard wood, or by making one of horn. (See "Horn.")

Fireplaces for Cooking.--The most elementary fireplace consists of three stones in a triangle, to support the pot. If stones are not procurable, three piles of mud, or three stakes or green-wood driven into the earth, are an equivalent. Small recesses neatly cut in a bank, one for each fireplace, are much used, when the fuel is dry and well prepared. A more elaborate plan is to excavate a shallow saucer-like hole in the ground, a foot or eighteen inches in diameter, and kneading the soil so excavated into a circular wall, with a doorway in the windward side: the upper surface is curved, so as to leave three pointed turrets, upon which the cooking-vessel rests, as in the sketch. Thus the wind enters at the doorway, and the flames issue through the curved depressions at the top, and lick round the cooking-vessel placed above. The wall is sometimes built of stones.

Trenches and Holes.--In cooking for a large party with a small supply of fuel, either dig a narrow trench, above which all the pots and kettles may stand in a row, and in which the fire is made--the mouth being open to the wind, and a small chimney built at the other end;--or else dig a round hole, one foot deep, and place the pots in a ring on its edge, half resting on the earth, and half overlapping the hole. A space will remain in the middle of them, and through this the fire must be fed.

Esquimaux Lamp.--The cooking of the Esquimaux is wholly effected by stone lamps, with wicks made of moss, which are so carefully arranged that the flame gives little or no smoke. Their lamps vary in size from one foot and a half long to six inches. Each of the bits of moss gives a small but very bright flame. The lamp is all in all to the Esquimaux; it dries their clothes, and melts the snow for their drinking-water; its construction is very ingenious; without it they could not have inhabited the arctic regions.

Ovens.--Bedouin Oven.--Dig a hole in the ground; wall and roof it with stones, leaving small apertures in the top. They make a roaring fire in and about the oven (the roof having been temporarily removed for the purpose), and when the stones (including those of the roof) have become very hot, sweep away the ashes and strew the inside of the oven with grass, or leaves, taking care that whatever is used, has no disagreeable taste, else it would be communicated to the flesh. Then put in the meat: it is a common plan to sew it up in its own skin, which shields it from dust and at the same time retains its juices from evaporating. Now replace the roof, a matter of some difficulty, on account of the stones being hot, and therefore requiring previous rehearsal. Lastly, make the fire again over the oven and let the baking continue for some hours. An entire sheep can be baked easily in this way. The same process is used for baking vegetables, except with the addition of pouring occasionally boiling water upon them, through the roof.

Gold-digger's Oven.--The figure represents a section of the oven. A hole or deep notch is dug into the side of a bank, and two flat stones are slid horizontally, like shelves, into grooves made in the sides of the hole, as shown in the figure; where it will be observed that the uppermost stone does not quite reach to the face of the bank, and that the lower-most stone does not quite reach to the back of the hole. A fire of red-hot embers is placed on the floor of the hole; and the bread about to be baked is laid upon the lowermost stone. Lastly, another flat stone is used to close the mouth of the oven: it is set with its edge on the floor of the hole: it leans forward with the middle of its face resting against the front edge of the lowermost stone, a narrow interval being left between its top and the edge of the uppermost stone. This interval serves as a vent to the hot air from the embers, which takes the course shown in the figure. The oven should be thoroughly heated before the bread is put in.

Baking between two stones.--For baking slices of meat or thin cakes, it is sufficient to lay one large stone above another with a few pebbles between, to prevent them from touching. Next make a large fire about the stones until they are thoroughly hot; then sweep away the embers, and insert the slices.

Ant hills as Ovens.--Where there are no stones of which ovens may be built, and where there are old white-ant hills, the natives commonly dig holes in the sides of the ant hills and use them for that purpose.

Clay Ovens.--I have heard of a very neat construction, built with clay, in which grass had been kneaded. A fire was lit inside, to dry the work as it progressed; while the builder placed rings of clay, in tiers, one above the other, until a complete dome was made without mould or framework. Time was allowed for each ring to dry sufficiently, before the next one was added.

Baking beneath a camp fire.--A small piece of meat, enough for four or five people, can be baked by simply scraping a tolerably deep hole under the bivouac fire; putting in the meat rolled in the skin to which it is attached, and covering it with earth and fire. It is a slow process of cooking, for it requires many hours; but the meat, when done, is soft and juicy, and the skin gelatinous and excellent.

"Meat, previously wrapped up in paper or cloth, may be baked in a clay case, in any sort of pit or oven, well covered over, and with good economy." ('Handbook of Field Service.')

Baking in Pots.--A capital oven is improvised by means of two earthen or metal cooking-pots, of which one is placed on the fire, and in it the article to be baked; the other pot is put upon its top, as a cover, and in it a shovelful of red-hot embers.

Bush Cookery.--Tough Meat.--Hammer it well between two stones before putting it on the fire, and again when it is half cooked, to separate the fibres. I have often seen people save themselves much painful mastication, by hammering at each separate piece of meat, before putting it in their mouths.

Rank Meat.--I have spoken of this, in another section, Revolting Food, that may save the Lives of Starving Men.

Kabobs.--Broil the rib-bones, or skewer your iron ramrod through a dozen small lumps of meat and roast them. This is the promptest way of cooking meat; but men on hard work are not satisfied with a diet of nothing else but tough roasted flesh, they crave for succulent food, such as boiled or baked meat.

Salt Meat, to prepare hurriedly.--Warm it slightly on both sides--this makes the salt draw to the outside--then rinse it well in a pannikin of water. This process extracts a large part of the salt, and leaves the meat more fit for cooking.

Haggis.--Hearne, the North American traveller, recommends a "haggis made with blood, a good quantity of fat shred small, some of the tenderest of the flesh, together with the heart and lungs, cut or town into small skivers; all of which is put into the stomach, and roasted by being suspended before the fire with a string. Care must be taken that it does not get too much heat at first, or it will burst. It is a most delicious morsel, even without pepper, salt, or any seasoning."

Theory of Tea-making.--I have made a number of experiments on the art of making good tea. We constantly hear that some people are good and others bad tea-makers; that it takes a long time to understand the behaviour of a new tea=pot, and so forth; and lastly, that good tea cannot be made except with boiling water. Now, this latter assertion is assuredly untrue, because, if tea be actually boiled in water, an emetic and partly poisonous drink is the certain result. I had a tin lid made to my teapot, a short tube passed through the lid, and in the tube was a cork, through a hole in which a thermometer was fitted, that enabled me to learn the temperature of the water in the teapot, at each moment. Thus provided, I continued to make my tea as usual, and to note down what I observed. In the first place after warming the teapot in the ordinary way, the fresh boiling water that was poured into it, sank invariably to under 200 degrees Fahr. It was usually 180 degrees, so great was the amount of heat abstracted by the teapot. I also found that my teapot--it was a crockery one--allowed the water within it to cool down at the rate of about 2 degrees per minute. When the pot was filled afresh, of course the temperature of its contents rose afresh, and by the addition of water two or three times repeated, I obtained a perfect mastery over the temperature of the pot, within reasonable limits. Now, after numerous days in which I made tea according to my usual method, but measuring strictly the quantity of leaves, and recording the times and the temperature, and noting the character of tea produced; then, taking as my type of excellence, tea that was full bodied, full tasted, and in no way bitter or flat, I found that this was only produced when the water in the teapot had remained between 180º and 190 degrees Fahr., and had stood eight minutes on the leaves. It was only necessary for me to add water once to the tea, to ensure this temperature. Bitterness was the certain result of greater heat or of longer standing, and flatness was the result of colder water. If the tea did not stand for so long a time as eight minutes, it was not ripe; it was not full bodied enough. The palate becomes far less fastidious about the quality of the second cup. Other people may like tea of a different character from that which I do myself; but, be that as it may, all people can, I maintain, ensure uniformity of good tea, such as they best like, by attending to the principle of making it--that is to say, to time, and quantities, and temperature. There is no other mystery in the teapot.

Tea made in the kettle.--Where there are no cups or teapot put the leaves in the pot or kettle, and drink through a reed with a wisp of grass in it, as they do in Paraguay. If there are cups and no teapot, the leaves may be put into the pot, previously enclosed in a loose gauze or muslin bag to prevent their floating about. A contrivance is sold in the shops for this purpose; it is made of metal gauze, and shaped like an egg. A purse made of metal rings would be better, for it would pack flat; but the advantage of muslin over metal apparatus is that you may throw away bag and all, and avoid the trouble of cleaning.

Tea made in tin mugs.--A correspondent assures me that he considers the Australian plan of making tea to be preferable to any other, for travellers and explorers; as it secures that the tea shall be made both well and quickly, and without the necessity of carrying kettles on horseback. Each person has a common tin quart pot and a pint pot, slung to his saddle; the tea and sugar are carried in small bags. The quart pot requires very little fire to make it boil. When it begins to boil, it is taken from the fire, the tea is dropped in, and the pint pot is placed on its top as a cover. When the tea is ready, the sugar is dropped into the pint, and the tea is poured from one pot to the other till it is mixed. The pint is always kept clean for drinking out of, but not the quart, for the blacker it is, the sooner will the water boil.

Tea made over night.--To prepare tea for a very early breakfast, make it over night, and pour it away from the tea-leaves, into another vessel. It will keep perfectly well, for it is by long standing with the tea-leaves that it becomes bitter. In the morning simply warm it up. Tea is drunk at a temperature of 140 degrees Fahr., or 90 degrees above an average night temperature of 50 degrees. It is more than twice as easy to raise the temperature up to 140 than to 212 degrees, letting alone the trouble of tea-making.

Extract of Tea and Coffee.--Dr. Rae speaks very highly of the convenience of extract of tea. Any scientific chemist could make it, but he should be begged to use first-rate tea. The extract from first-rate tea makes a very drinkable infusion, but that from second-rate tea is not good, the drink made from the extract always a grade inferior to that made directly from the leaves. By pouring a small quantity of the extract into warm water, the tea is made; and, though inferior in taste to properly made tea, it has an equally good effect on the digestion.

Extract of coffee is well known. I believe it can be made of very good quality, but what is usually sold seems to me to be very much the contrary and not to be wholesome.

Tea and Coffee, without hot water.--In Unyoro, Sir S. Baker says, they have no idea of using coffee as a drink, but simply chew it raw as a stimulant. In Chinese Tartary, travellers who have no means of making a cup of tea, will chew the leaves as a substitute. Mr. Atkinson told me how very grateful he had found this makeshift.