Whatever you do, don’t wear canvas overalls, although you may be strongly advised to do so. I wore a pair once, and in a week they were so ragged that I had to borrow a petticoat in which to return to civilisation, and, moreover, they are not only easily torn, but they emit a strident scraping sound, whenever a twig touches them, which can be heard very far off.
Loose buckskin gloves sound rather luxurious wear for a hunter, but the hardest Siwash wears them; and as your hands have often as rough usage among the rocks as your feet, they are necessary. Below is a list of clothes, &c., for a two months’ trip in temperate climates.
Clothing for two months
- Two tweed suits
- One buckskin shirt
- Two tweed caps
- Four flannel shirts
- Four pairs of flannel drawers
- Six pairs of woollen socks or stockings
- Moccasins: the number of these depends entirely upon the nature of the shooting. After ibex, I have worn out a pair in a morning, but for ordinary work a pair of good thick moccasins should last four or five days
- Eight handkerchiefs: not white, but some dull colour which will not attract attention from afar, if inadvertently pulled out in sight of game
- One pair of short waterproof boots (gum boots)
- One waterproof cape, such as is made by Cording; an armless contrivance, very light and portable, used I think by cyclists
- Three pairs of blankets, one waterproof sheet, one air-cushion
- One belt of webbing for cartridges
- One pair of loose buckskin gloves, one pair of woollen mits
- One boating sweater
Having now enumerated most of the essential items of a camp outfit, it may be as well to sketch roughly the ordinary routine of a day’s march with pack ponies.
In a well-ordered camp someone should be stirring just as the stars begin to lose their brilliancy and to fade before the coming of day. An early start is most important, as it goes a long way towards ensuring an early camp, and that camp should be made early whilst there is still plenty of daylight is of vital importance to everyone with the expedition. The discomforts of camping in the dark only require to be tried once to be avoided for the future.
Whilst one man lights the fire and gets the breakfast ready, let another go for the horses, and a third put the beds together and make the packs ready. Save time whenever you can, for unavoidable delays are all too frequent with a pack train. A cayuse is not as other horses are. When you have sought animals sorrowing, in the chill dawn, and found them hiding, in a long line one behind another with their heads down, behind a bush no bigger than a respectable cabbage, or have watched your bell-horse roll his bell in the sand, shake himself to see if it will ring, and then trot away contented, you will know more about cayuses, and agree that they are the hardiest, most sure-footed, and ‘meanest’ of all created beings. See then that you get them together early in the day, and have the packs on their backs and ‘all set’ within half an hour of the time at which you finish your breakfast.
When you have the ponies packed, some one of the hunters may ride well ahead, but the man who ‘leads out,’ i.e. guides the pack train, should never ride far ahead. If he does, the pack animals will at once begin to stray. The best pace to travel at is a fairly brisk walk; anything more than this generally disarranges the packs and necessitates halts to rearrange them, or causes sore backs. From fifteen to twenty-five miles a day, according to the character of the country to be ridden through, is an excellent day’s work for pack ponies, and from two to three miles an hour a fair pace to travel at.
Keep your temper in driving pack ponies across a side hill, or along a steep and narrow trail. Pack ponies are as mean as—civilised words won’t express their ‘meanness’—and when a pony knows that he has another between himself and the whip, and that the whip cannot reach him owing to the narrowness of the trail, he will stop and browse. If you press the pony next you to get at the offender, one of them will go head over heels down the slope, and at every bump there will be little puffs, one white, one brown. This means that when that pony reaches the bottom of that hill he may still be alive, but there will be no more cocoa and no more baking powder for that expedition.
