In Norway, the stew-pot, after having stood for some time upon the fire, is taken off and wrapped in a thick covering of felt, which, being a bad conductor, prevents the escape of the heat, and forces it to expend itself on the continued cooking of the meat. A very neat arrangement of this kind was recently exhibited at the Polytechnic under the name of the Norwegian cooking stove. It consists of a small wooden box, thickly lined with felt, in which there is just room to deposit a stew-pan. After it has been brought to boiling heat upon the fire, it is then shut close, and in three or four hours the dinner is thoroughly cooked. We should think this, in waggon travelling in Africa, for soldiers on the march, or on board fishing boats or small vessels, would be a very desirable acquisition.
In Australia we constantly ate our ration of salt pork uncooked; and, even when recently taken from the cask, it was very good in this manner, with a little lime-juice and sugar. Per contra, however, the pork, with the bone cut out, and packed in canvas bags for carriage by pack horses, soon became dried by the sun; the fat all melted out of it, and was used to grease our boots or harness; and the once juicy, succulent, full-sized four-pound piece of pork became, after a few months’ carriage, a semi-fossilized bit of nondescript matter, not much bigger than our fist, and weighing just three-quarters of a pound. Nevertheless, we had to take it at its nominal value, as we had no opportunity of replenishing our stores until our return to camp; and we found experimentally that we could not afford to diminish our scanty rations any further by boiling it.
It may be of interest here to give the scale of rations on which we travelled, and on which, though we could certainly have consumed more, we lived and worked for several months without finding our health or strength in any way impaired:
| Salt pork, per diem, 1 lb. (nom.) | Sugar, 3 oz. |
| Flour, 1 lb. | Tobacco, ¼ oz. |
| Coffee, roasted and ground, ¾ oz. | Soap, ¼ oz. |
| Or tea, ¼ oz. |
In camp, if we killed a sheep, the allowance was 1¼ lb. of fresh meat instead of salt; a pint pannikin was also used as holding an equivalent to 1 lb. of flour. But on the journey we were never able to issue a full pound, because drying it in the sun diminished its weight; and, beside this, as we carried two ½-lb. tins of gunpowder in each 50 lb. bag of flour, their weight, as well as that of the double canvas bag, had to be deducted, leaving a net weight of very little over 48 lb. In serving the weekly rations, our plan was to weigh every man’s bag of flour against our own, and, if he thought his was in any way deficient, to give him the option of changing; also, when the pork was laid out, to let every man choose his ration, and to take that which remained for ourselves; and we found, as we believe will generally be the case, that the men, seeing that they were fairly treated, did not abuse the confidence we placed in them.
Sheep killing.
In times of scarcity, it may be well in killing a sheep to follow the example of the Tartars, who are perhaps the most dexterous sheep butchers in the world. When they kill a sheep nothing is wasted; even the blood is most carefully preserved for use. Instead of cutting the throat of the animal in the usual way, they pass a long slender knife in by the side of the breast-bone in such a way that all the large vessels above the heart are instantly severed. All the blood therein contained is poured out into the cavity of the chest without the escape of any. When requisite, it is ladled or scooped out, and placed in some convenient vessel. To skin the animal, the knife is first run along the whole abdominal line, from the top of the throat under the chin to the inside of the root of the tail, lines are then cut up each leg to the hoof, and the skin is dexterously stripped back from each side until nothing but a mere line of adhesion is left from the top of the tail, along the middle of the back, and up the neck. The sheep is now turned on its back, and the skin spread evenly out, like a mat, under it. The process of division into convenient joints now takes place, each piece being arranged in order on the skin, whilst the offal is secured in a wide basket. When all the joints have been duly cut out, the skin is taken by two men, one before to grasp the skins of the fore-legs and the other those of the hind, just as a hand-barrow is carried; and in this way the meat is carried to the tents for use.
Economy in food.
Once, in Australia, after having emptied a 50lb. bag of sugar, we rinsed out the bag with half a pint of water, making a strong syrup, which we poured into a small iron bucket; then, rinsing it again with another half pint, we obtained a like quantity, somewhat less sweet; and this we repeated till the bag was washed clean and we had about three pints of sweetened water in our bucket. We then drew from the store half a ration of sago for four persons—i.e., ½lb. each—boiled it in the syrup, and thus produced a mess which everyone who tasted it declared to be delicious.
One of our party devoted a spare hour to fishing, and, with hook and line, caught a large water tortoise and some fish; and shot a bird. The first of these when killed—i.e., so far as the division of the jugular would kill it—was laid upon its back upon the embers, served up in its own shell, and was a most palatable addition to our meal.