The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Scientific American Boy, by A. Russell (Alexander Russell) Bond

Fun in Swimming.

The SCIENTIFIC
AMERICAN BOY

OR

The Camp at Willow Clump Island

By
A. RUSSELL BOND

NEW YORK

MUNN & CO., Publishers

1906

COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY
MUNN & CO., NEW YORK

PRESS OF
THE KALKHOFF COMPANY
NEW YORK

PREFACE

All boys are nature lovers. Nothing appeals to them more than a summer vacation in the woods where they can escape from the restraints of civilization and live a life of freedom. Now, it may appear to be a bit of presumption to attempt to advise the boy camper how to spend his time. Surely the novelty of outdoor life, the fascinating charm of his surroundings, will provide him plenty of entertainment.

But, after all, a camp generally affords but two major amusements, hunting and fishing. These have been fully covered by a vast number of books. However, there is another side of camp life, particularly in a boys’ camp, which has been very little dealt with, namely, the exercise of one’s ingenuity in creating out of the limited resources at hand such devices and articles as will add to one’s personal comfort and welfare. It is, therefore, the aim of this book to suggest certain diversions of this character for the boy camper which, aside from affording him plenty of physical exercise, will also develop his mental faculties, and above all stimulate that natural genius which is characteristic of every typical American boy. To this end the story contains descriptions of a large collection of articles which can be made by any boy of average intelligence, not only in the camp but at home as well.

The use of a narrative to connect the various incidents marks a departure in this class of book, and it is believed that the matter will thus be made more realistic and interesting. In all cases full directions are given for making the various articles. While it is not presumed that the directions will be slavishly followed, for this would defeat the general aim of the work, yet all the principal dimensions are given so that they can be used, if desired.

I beg to acknowledge the courtesy of Mr. Daniel C. Beard and Mr. Henry D. Cochrane in supplying a number of photographs. The directions for making the lee boards (page 119) were obtained from data furnished by the latter. Many of the details recorded in the chapter on Tramping Outfits are to be accredited to Mr. Edward Thorpe. In the preparation of this book I have received valuable assistance from my colleague, Mr. A. A. Hopkins.

A. RUSSELL BOND.

New York, October, 1905.

CONTENTS

Map of Willow Clump Island and Vicinity.

THE SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN BOY.

CHAPTER I.
“BILL.”

“Bill,” he was it, the Scientific American Boy, I mean. Of course, we were all American boys and pretty scientific chaps too, if I do say it myself, but Bill, well he was the whole show. What he didn’t know wasn’t worth knowing, so we all thought, and even to this day I sometimes wonder how he managed to contrive and execute so many remarkable plans. At the same time he was not a conceited sort of a chap and didn’t seem to realize that he was head and shoulders above the rest of us in ingenuity. But, of course, we didn’t all have an uncle like Bill did. Bill’s Uncle Ed was one of those rare men who take a great interest in boys and their affairs, a man who took time to answer every question put to him, explaining everything completely and yet so clearly that you caught on at once. Uncle Ed (we all called him that) was a civil engineer of very high standing in his profession, which had taken him pretty much all over the world, and his naturally inquisitive nature, coupled with a wonderful memory, had made him a veritable walking encyclopedia. With such an uncle it is no wonder that Bill knew everything. Of course, there were some things that puzzled even Bill. But all such difficulties, after a reasonable amount of brain-work had failed to clear them, were submitted to Uncle Ed. Uncle Ed was always prompt (that was one thing we liked about him), and no matter where he was or what he was doing he would drop everything to answer a letter from the society.

The Old Trunk.

Fig. 1. The Old Trunk in the Attic.

But hold on, I am getting ahead of my story. I was rummaging through the attic the other day, and came across an old battered trunk, one that I used when I went to boarding-school down in south Jersey. That trunk was certainly a curiosity shop. It contained a miscellaneous assortment of glass tubes, brass rods, coils of wire, tools, fish hooks–in fact, it was a typical collection of all those “valuables” that a boy is liable to pick up. Down in one corner of the trunk was a black walnut box, marked, with brass letters, “Property of the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I.” On my key-ring I still carried the key to that box, which had not been opened for

Fig. 2. The Black Walnut Box. years. I unlocked the box and brought to light the “Records and Chronicles of the Society for the Scientific Investigation, Exploration and Exploitation of Willow Clump Island.” For hours I pored over those pages, carried back to the good old times we used to have as boys along the banks of the Delaware River, until I was brought sharply back to the present by the sound of the dinner bell. It seemed that the matter contained in those “Chronicles” was too good to be kept locked up in an old trunk. Few boys’ clubs ever had such a president as Bill, or such a wonderful bureau of information as Uncle Ed. For the benefit of boys and boykind in general, I decided then and there to publish, as fully as practicable, a record of what our society did.

Christmas Vacation.

This was how the society came to be formed. Bill, whom I met at boarding-school, was an orphan, and that’s why he was sent to boarding-school. His uncle had to go down to Brazil to lay out a railroad, I believe, and so he packed Bill off to our school, which was chosen in preference to some others because one of the professors there had been a classmate of Uncle Ed’s at college. Bill roomed with me, and naturally we became great chums. When Christmas time came, of course I invited him to spend the holidays with me. My home was situated in the little village of Lamington, on the Jersey side of the Delaware River. Here we arrived late at night on the Saturday before Christmas. A cold wind was blowing which gave promise of breaking the spell of warm weather we had been having, and of giving us a chance to try our skates for the first time. True to our expectations, the next day was bitterly cold, and a visit to the canal which ran along the river bank, just beyond our back fence, showed that quite a thick skim of ice had formed on the water. Monday morning, bright and early, found us on the smooth, slippery surface of the canal. “Us” here includes, in addition to Bill and myself, my two younger brothers, Jack and Fred, and also Dutchy Van Syckel and Reddy Schreiner, neighbors of ours. It was the custom at the first of December every year to drain out most of the water in the canal, in order to prevent possible injury to the canal banks from the pressure of the ice. But there was always a foot or two of water covering the bottom of the canal, and this afforded a fine skating park of ample width and unlimited length, while the high canal banks on each side protected us from the bitter wind that was blowing. Toward noon, however, the wind shifted and swept at a terrific rate down the narrow lane between the canal banks. We could scarcely make headway against the blow. It was too much for Bill, who wasn’t as used to skating as we were. He sat down in a sheltered nook and commenced to think. When Bill sat down to think it always meant that something was going to happen, as we soon learned.

“Say, Jim,” said he to me, “have you got any canvas up at the house?”

“No,” I replied. “What do you want it for?”

“I want to rig up a skate sail. If you have an old sheet, that will do just as well.”

“Well, I guess I can find you an old sheet. Do you think you can make one?”

“Sure thing,” answered Bill, and off we went to the house, where I received my first lesson on the practical genius of my chum.

“Bill’s” Skate Sail.

Fig. 3. Laying Out the Sail.

The old sheet which Mother furnished us was laid out on the floor and two corners were folded over to the center, as shown in the drawing, making a triangle with base 7 feet long and sides each about 4 feet 6 inches long. The surplus end piece was then cut off, and a broad hem turned and basted all around the edges of the triangle. Bill wanted to work the sewing machine himself, but Mother was afraid he would break something, so she sewed down the hem for us. Then, under Bill’s supervision,

Fig. 4. The Tape Tie Strings. she re-enforced the corners by sewing on patches of cloth. Along the diagonal a strip of heavy tape was sewed, leaving loops at intervals, which afterward were cut and provided means for tying the sail to the mast. Tie strings of tape were

Fig. 5. “Bill’s” Sail Complete. also sewed at the corners, as shown in the illustration, and then a trip was made to the garden in search of suitable spars. A smooth bean pole of about the right weight served for the mast, and another stick with a crotch at one end served as the boom or cross-spar. The spars were cut to proper length, and the sail was then tied on, as illustrated, with the crotch of the cross-spar fitted against and tied to the center of the mast. A light rope, long enough to provide plenty of slack, was tied to the ends of the mast to assist in guiding the sail when in use. In the meantime I had procured another sheet from one of our neighbors, and Bill helped me make a sail for myself. It was not until long after dark that we finished our work.

Willow Clump Island.

The next day we tried the sails and it didn’t take me very long to learn how to steer the device. The wind had changed again and this time blew up the canal. We took the line of least resistance, and went skimming up the ice lane like birds for several miles before we realized how far we were getting away from home. As we rounded a bend in the canal, much to my astonishment, I saw just before us the bridge at Raven Hill, eight miles from our town. We started to go back, but the wind was too strong for us, and there wasn’t much room in which to do any tacking; nor could we make any progress when the sails were folded. I began to get extremely tired and rather exasperated at Bill for not having thought of the return trip before he led me such a hot pace up the canal. But Bill was getting tired, too.

“Look here, Jim,” he said, “we haven’t covered a mile, and I’m worn out.”

“Why in thunder didn’t you think of this before we started?” I returned.

“How much money have you with you?” was the reply.

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute. How much have you?”

A careful search of my dozen odd pockets netted the sum of twenty-seven cents.

“I have fifty-nine,” said Bill, “and that makes eighty-six altogether, doesn’t it? Isn’t there a railroad depot near here?”

“There is one at Raven Hill, and the next is at Lumberville. That is about eleven miles from home.”

“Well,” said Bill, “at three cents each per mile that would amount to sixty-six cents. Let’s sail on to Lumberville and then take the train back.”

On we sped to Lumberville, only to find that the next train was not due until noon, and it was now just half past ten.

Time never hung heavy on our hands. Out on the river we espied an island. I had heard of this island–Willow Clump Island, it was called–but had never been on it; consequently I fell in with Bill’s suggestion that we make it a visit. Owing to the rapids which separated the island from the Jersey shore, we had to go up stream a quarter of a mile, to where a smooth sheet of ice had formed, over a quiet part of the river; thence we sailed down to the island along the Pennsylvania side.

“What a capital island for a camp,” cried Bill, after we had explored it pretty thoroughly. “Have you ever been out camping?”

I had to confess I never had, and then Bill gave me a glowing account of his experiences in the Adirondacks with his uncle the year before, which so stirred up the romance in me that I wanted to camp out at once.

“Shucks!” said Bill, “We would freeze in this kind of weather, and besides, we’ve got to make a tent first.”

We then sat down and made elaborate plans for the summer. Suddenly the distant sound of a locomotive whistle interrupted our reveries.

“Jiminy crickets!” I exclaimed. “That’s the train coming through Spalding’s Cut. We’ve got to hustle if we are to catch it.”

We were off like the wind, and a merry chase brought us to the Lumberville depot in time to flag the train. We arrived at Lamington at half past twelve, a trifle late for dinner, rather tired and hungry, but with a glowing and I fear somewhat exaggerated account of our adventure for the credulous ears of the rest of the boys.

Organizing the Society.

The camping idea met with the hearty approval of all, and it was decided to begin preparations at once for the following summer. Dutchy, whose father was a member of a geographical society, suggested that we form a society for the exploration of Willow Clump Island. By general acclamation Bill was chosen president of the society, Dutchy was made vice-president, Reddy was elected treasurer, and they made me secretary. It was Dutchy who proposed the name “The Society for the Scientific Investigation, Exploration and Exploitation of Willow Clump Island.” It was decided to make an expedition of exploration as soon as we could make skate sails for the whole society.

CHAPTER II.
SKATE SAILS.

The duties of the secretary, as defined in the constitution which Dutchy Van Syckel drew up, were to keep a record of all the acts of the society, the minutes of every meeting, and accurate detailed descriptions of all work accomplished. Therefore, while the rest of the society was busy cutting up old sheets, levied from the surrounding neighborhood, and sewing and rigging the sails under Bill’s direction, I, with pad and pencil in hand, took notes on all the operations.

The Double Swedish Sail.

Bill evolved some new types of sails which differed materially from the type described in the first chapter. One was a double sail–“the kind they use in Sweden,” he explained. One of the sheets which the foraging

Fig. 6. Dimensions of Double Swedish Sail.
N. B.–The mark (') means feet and (") means inches. party brought in was extra large; it measured approximately two yards and a half square. This was folded on itself, making a parallelogram seven feet six inches long and three feet nine inches wide. The sheets we had were all rather worn and some were badly torn, so that we had to make our sails of double thickness, sewing patches over

Fig. 7. Halyards Looped onto Pole. the weak spots. A broad hem was turned down at each end, and heavy tape was sewed on, leaving loops as before, to attach them to the spars. This reduced the length of our sail to seven feet three inches. The end spars were spaced apart by a light pole about ten feet long, to which they were

Fig. 8. The Double Swedish Sail. tied at the points of intersection. The spars were also braced by halyards looped over the ends of the pole in the manner indicated in the drawing (Fig. 7). It took a crew of two boys to manipulate this sail. In use, the pole of the rig was carried on the shoulders, and the sail was guided by means of ropes attached to the lower corners of the vertical spars. These ropes in nautical language are called “sheets.” The boy at the rear was the pilot and did the steering, because his position behind the sail gave him an unobstructed view in all directions. When changing tack the sail was lifted overhead to the other side of the crew.

Fig. 9. Changing Tack.

The Single Swedish Sail.

Fig. 10. The Single Swedish Sail.

Another sail of similar form, but for use of one boy only, is shown in Fig. 10. This had a height of six and one-half feet at the forward end and three feet at the rear; and its length was five feet. This sail was very satisfactory in light winds, owing to its great area. In use we found that it was very important to keep the lower edge against the leg, as indicated by the arrow. The rig was manipulated just like the double Swedish sail, lifting it over the head when it was desired to change tack.

The Lanteen Sail.

Fig 11. The Lanteen Sail.

The lanteen sail we found to be a very good rig. It was made in the form of a triangle, measuring eight feet on one side, seven and one-half feet on another side and six and one-half feet on the third. The six and one-half foot side was secured to a boom, and the seven and one-half foot side to a yard. The yard and boom were hinged together by a leather strap nailed on as shown in Fig. 12, and to this hinge a rope was attached, which served as a sheet. These spars were secured to a mast erected perpendicularly to the boom and intersecting the yard a little above its center. We had had some trouble with the first sails we made in keeping the base of the sail against the body, and to overcome this difficulty Bill proposed tying the

Fig. 12. Hinge for Spars. bottom of the mast to the leg. This was a rather risky thing to do, as we learned later, for in case of accident it would be difficult to get clear of

Fig. 13. Leather Mast Step. the sail. It was Reddy who finally solved the problem by rigging up a step for the mast. It consisted of a leather tag tied to the leg, and provided with a hole into which the bottom of the mast was fitted. To prevent the

Fig. 14. Wooden Mast Step. mast from slipping too far into the step the lower portion of it was whittled down, leaving a shoulder which rested on the leather. Bill later devised another step, which consisted of a wooden block (Fig. 14) strapped to the leg and formed with a shallow socket to receive the end of the mast.

The Danish Sail.

But the most satisfactory sail we found to be the Danish sail, though it was not until we had served quite a long apprenticeship and

Fig. 15. The Danish Sail. sustained many pretty bad falls that we mastered the art of manipulating these sails properly. Our ideas on this sail were obtained from a French illustrated paper which Dutchy Van Syckel picked up in his father’s library. This sail was formed with a topsail so arranged that it could be lowered when the wind was too strong. The dimensions of the sail as we made it are given in the drawing (Fig. 15). The top of the sail was lashed to a spar, which

Fig. 16. Topsail of the Danish Rig. was connected by a short stick to another spar tied to the mainsail about eighteen inches lower down. The sail was strengthened with an extra strip of cloth along the lower spar, and the tie strings were applied in the usual way. The connecting stick, or topmast we may call it, was hinged to the lower spar by means of a short piece of leather strap, which was passed round the spar in the form of a loop and its two ends nailed to the bottom of the topmast. The topmast extended above the upper spar a short distance, and to this we fastened the flag which our society had adopted. A couple of strong cords were secured to the center spar to provide for fastening the sail onto the skater. Tied to the lower corners of the mainsail were two sticks which were used for guiding the sail when in flight.

Fig. 17. Before the Wind. Fig. 18. Topsail Lowered. Fig. 19. Skating against the Wind. Fig. 20. On the Port Tack.

The different methods of sailing with this rig are shown in Figs. 17-20. When sailing with the wind the skater would stand very erect, bending backward in proportion as the wind blew fresher. By inclining the sail in one direction or the other, the skater could tack to port or starboard. When moving against the wind by skating in the usual way, the body was bent forward in such manner that the sail lay horizontal, so that it would not offer a purchase for the wind.

Bat’s Wings.

One more sail deserves mention. It was Bill’s idea, and it came near to ending his career the first day he tried it. It had no spars at all, but was merely a strip of cloth of somewhat triangular shape. The upper side was tied to the head, and the two corners to the wrists, while the lower portion was tied to the ankles. This converted him into a huge white-winged bat. Bill had to try it at once, even though the rest of the sails were not finished, and a very comical spectacle he made as he flapped his wings in his endeavors to tack. When the wind was too strong for him he had merely to drop his arms and thus lower sail. At length he became tired of holding his arms out at full length,

Fig. 21. and I got him a stick to put over his shoulders and rest his arms on. But that stick was Bill’s undoing, for coming around a sudden bend in the canal he caught the full force of the wind, which knocked him flat on his back before he could disentangle himself from the stick and lower sail. It took us some time to bring him back to consciousness, and a very scared lot of boys we were for a while. However, the lesson was a good one, for after that we were very cautious in experimenting with sails that had to be tied on, such as the Danish rig and the lanteen rig, before Reddy invented the mast step.

It was not until the day after Christmas that the sails were all completed, but then there was scarcely any wind blowing and we could not attempt the expedition to the island.

CHAPTER III.
SNOW SHOES, SKIS AND SWAMP SHOES.

The next day, Sunday, it began to snow, and we realized that our chance of skating up to Willow Clump Island was spoiled. All the afternoon it snowed, and the next morning we woke to find the ground covered to a depth of eight inches and snow still falling. But who ever heard of a boy complaining because there was snow on the ground? Here were new difficulties to overcome, new problems to solve, and new sports provided for our amusement. There was no disappointment shown by any of the members of the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I., as they met in the woodshed immediately after breakfast to discuss proceedings for the day. There seemed to be but one way of reaching the island, and that was by means of snow shoes. Bill had only a vague idea of how snow shoes were made.

Chair Seat Snow Shoe.

Fig. 22. Chair Seat Snow Shoe

The first pair was made from a couple of thin wooden chair seats which we found in the shed. They proved quite serviceable, being very light and offering a fairly large bearing surface. The chair seats were trimmed off at each side to make the shoes less clumsy, and a loop of leather was fastened near the center of each shoe, in which the toe could be slipped. This shoe possessed the disadvantage of being too flat and of picking up too much snow when used.

Barrel Stave Snow Shoe.

Fig. 23. Barrel Stave Snow Shoe.

Another pair of shoes was made from barrel staves. At first one stave was made to serve for a shoe, but we found that two staves fastened together with a pair of wooden cleats were much better. Jack was the proud inventor of these shoes and insisted that they were far more satisfactory than the elaborate ones which were later devised.

Barrel Hoop Snow Shoe.

Fig. 24. Barrel Hoop Snow Shoe.

Now that Jack had shown his ingenuity, Fred thought it was his turn to do something, and after mysteriously disappearing for the space of an hour we saw him suddenly come waddling back to the shed on a pair of barrel hoops covered with heavy canvas. He had stretched the canvas so tightly across the hoops that they were bent to an oval shape. It was claimed for these shoes, and with good reason, that they were not so slippery as the barrel stave shoe, for they permitted the foot to sink slightly into the snow.

After dinner, Dutchy came back with a book of his father’s, a sort of an encyclopedia in which several different kinds of snow shoes were illustrated. Reddy, whose father owned a sawmill, volunteered to provide us with strips of hickory from which to make the frames.

The Sioux Snow Shoe.

Fig. 25. Sioux Shoe.

The Sioux snow shoe was the first type we tackled. Two strips of hickory 4 feet long and 3/4 inch square in section, were bent over a pair of spreaders and securely fastened together at each end. The

Fig. 26. Frame of the Sioux Shoe. spreaders were about 12 inches long and located about 15 inches apart. They were notched at the ends, as shown in Fig. 26, to receive the side strips, which were not fastened together until after they had been nailed to the spreaders. We found that the most satisfactory way of fastening together the ends of the hickory strips was to bolt them together. When the frame was completed, we began the tedious process of weaving in the filling or web of the snow shoe. First we cut notches in the edges of the spreaders, spacing these notches an inch apart. Then we procured several balls of heavy twine at the corner store. Tying one end of the cord to the right side stick about three inches below the forward spreader, we stretched a strand down to the notch at the left end of the lower spreader. The strand was drawn taut, and after making several twists around it

Fig 27. Web of the Sioux Shoe. the cord was tied to the left side stick three inches above the spreader. From this point the cord was stretched to the notch at the right end of the upper spreader, twisted several times and brought back to the starting point. The cord was now wrapped around the side stick for a space of about an inch, and then carried down to the second notch on the lower spreader, whence it was woven through the other two strands and tied about the left side stick about four inches from the spreader. Thus the weaving continued, passing the cord alternately over and under any cross strands encountered. In order to make the left side correspond with the right, a separate cord was wound around it, filling up the space between the strands of the web. The filling above and below the spreaders could not be so methodically done, but we managed to weave the strands quite neatly with about the same mesh as used at the center. To facilitate the weaving

Fig. 28. Weaving Needle we improvised a rough needle of a piece of wire. The latter was bent double to receive the cord which was wedged in between the two arms of the needle.

The Iroquois Shoe.

But the best snow shoe we made was the Iroquois shoe. The frame of this shoe was made of hickory strips of the same width and thickness as used in the Sioux shoe, but

Fig. 29. Bending the Hickory Strips. 8 feet long. The strips were bent in a loop and the ends were bolted together. How to bend the wood without breaking it seemed a very difficult problem. Wood, we knew, could be easily bent without breaking if boiled or steamed for a while; but we had nothing large enough in which to boil a strip of wood 8 feet long. Bill hit upon the plan of wrapping the stick with burlap and then pouring boiling water on it until it became sufficiently soft to bend easily. An old oats-sack was cut up into strips and wound onto the hickory sticks for a distance of 18 inches at each side of the center. We then repaired to the

Fig. 30. Frame of Iroquois Shoe. kitchen to do the steaming. The hickory stick was held over a large dish-pan filled with boiling water, and from this we dipped out the water and poured it slowly over the burlap wrapping of the stick. After a little of this treatment the stick was sufficiently steamed to permit of bending to the required shape. The ends

Fig. 31. Iroquois Snow Shoe. were then firmly secured by means of bolts passed through bolt holes which had been previously drilled. The frame was completed by fitting the spreader sticks in place, after which it was laid away to dry. When the frame was perfectly dry we started weaving the web. In this case, however, instead of cord we used cane strips, which we had bought from a chair caner. This necessitated drilling holes in the side sticks to receive the cane strips. The web consisted of strands crossing each other diagonally, as illustrated. Our second pair of Iroquois snow shoes was made with a web of rawhide which we bought from a hardware store at Millville.

The Ainu Snow Shoe.

One of the snowshoes described in the book was very much like Fred’s barrel-hoop snow shoe in appearance. According to the description, it was a type used by the Ainus, a peculiar people living in the cold northern islands of Japan. As the shoe seemed quite simple and rather unique, we thought we

Fig. 32. Ainu Snow Shoe. would make one like it. Two hickory strips each 4 feet long were bent to a U-shape and lashed together, forming an oval about 2 feet 6 inches long by 18 inches wide. The frame was held to oval shape by tying the sides together. Then the filling was woven in, running the strands diagonally, as shown in Fig. 32.

We had excellent weather for snow shoes after that snowstorm. A thaw followed by a cold spell caused a thick crust to form on the snow which would nearly hold us up without the aid of our snowshoes. We were rather awkward with those shoes for a while, trying to keep them clear of each other, and we found it particularly hard to turn sharply without causing one shoe to run foul of the other. But with a little practice we soon felt quite at home on them. In order to prevent cutting the web with our heels, we found it necessary to wear rubbers.

Our vacation came to an end before we were prepared for the expedition to Willow Clump Island. But before leaving

Fig. 33. The Norwegian Ski. the subject on snow shoes, two more shoes remain to be described, namely the Swiss snow shoe and the Norwegian ski. The Swiss shoe was made during the summer and the ski during the following winter.

The Norwegian Ski.

The Norwegian ski was made of close-grained wood, 1 inch thick, 3-1/2 inches wide and 6 feet long. About 18 inches from the forward end the wood was planed down to a thickness of 1/4 of an inch. This end was placed in the dish-pan of boiling water, and in a short time it was pliable

Fig. 35. The Ski Stick. enough to permit of bending. It was secured

Fig. 34. Bending the Ski. in the proper bent position by slipping the toe end of the shoe between the banisters on the back porch and nailing a cleat back of the heel end. When the ski was perfectly dry the toe strap was nailed on just back of the balancing point, and also another strap, to be secured about the ankle. Then a cleat was nailed onto the ski to fit against the heel of the shoe. In use we found it best to cut a groove in the bottom of the ski, so as to give us a better grip on the snow in climbing up hills. With the skis we had to use short poles or “ski sticks” to assist in starting, stopping and steering when coasting. The ski stick was a bean pole provided with a wooden block near the lower end, to prevent it from being forced too far through the snow.

The Swiss Snow Shoe or Swamp Shoe.

Fig. 36. The Swiss Snow Shoe.

The Swiss shoe was made primarily to assist us in exploring some boggy land a short distance up the river from our island. The original swamp shoes were made from the bottoms of two old baskets, and they worked so admirably that it was decided to equip the whole society with them. Uncle Ed, when told about them, informed us that that was the kind of snow shoe used in Switzerland. Of course, we could not afford to destroy a pair of baskets for each member of the club, and so we had to weave the shoes from the willows which grew on the island.

CHAPTER IV.
TENT MAKING.

We had a farewell meeting of the society the evening before Bill and I had to return to boarding-school. At this meeting plans were made for the Easter vacation. We also considered the matter of getting parental permission for our summer outing. So far we had been afraid to breathe a word of our plans outside of the society, since Fred had said something about it in the presence of Father and had been peremptorily ordered to banish all such hair-brained, Wild West notions from his head. We realized from that incident that the consent of our parents would not be so very easily obtained. But Bill came forward with a promising suggestion. He would write to his Uncle Ed and see if he couldn’t be persuaded to join the expedition. At first we demurred. We didn’t want a “governor” around all the time. But Bill assured us that his uncle was “no ordinary man”; that he would not interfere with our plans, but would enter right into them and give us many valuable pointers. Though not by any means convinced, we told him to go ahead and invite his uncle, as that seemed about the only means of winning over our fathers and mothers. The society was then adjourned until our Easter vacation began, each member promising to earn and save as much money as he could in the meantime to buy the materials for a tent and provisions for the summer outing.

Word From Uncle Ed.

Fig. 37. Breadths sewed together for Roof and Side Walls of Tent.

Bill’s letter to Uncle Ed was answered as quickly as the mail could travel to Brazil and back. Uncle Ed heartily approved of our plans, and said that he would be delighted to join the expedition. He could not be on hand before the 1st of July, but that would give us plenty of time to make all necessary preparations. He told us not to worry about gaining the consent of our parents. He would write to them and see them all personally, if necessary to win their approval.

The Canvas Tent.

When at last spring arrived and we returned to Lamington on our Easter vacation, quite a sum of money had been collected, nearly $15.00, if I remember rightly; at any rate plenty to buy the materials for a good-sized tent and leave a large surplus for provisions,

Fig. 38. The Sail Stitch. etc. Bill figured out on paper just how much canvas we would need for a tent 7 feet wide by 9-1/2 feet long, which he estimated would be about large enough to hold us. It took 34 yards, 30 inches wide. Then we visited the village store to make our purchase. Canvas we found a little too expensive for us, but a material called drill seemed about right. It cost ten cents a yard, but since we wanted such a quantity of it the price was reduced to a total of $3.00. We repaired to the attic to lay out the material.

First we cut out four lengths of 5 yards and 26 inches each. The strips were basted together, lapping the edges

Fig. 39. Cutting out the Door Flaps. 1 inch and making a piece 17 feet 2 inches long by 9 feet 9 inches wide. Mother sewed the breadths together on the machine, using a double seam, as in sail making; that is, two parallel rows of stitching were sewed in, one along each overlapping edge, as shown in Fig. 38. A 1-inch hem was then turned and sewed at the ends of the goods, so that the piece measured exactly 17 feet long. It served for the roof and side walls of the tent. Our next operation was to cut three strips 11 feet long, and sew them together with a double seam as before. This piece was now slit along the center line m, Fig. 39, making two lengths 3 feet 8 inches wide. The strips were then cut along the diagonal lines a a, forming the end walls or doors, so to speak, of the tent. In sewing

Fig. 40. Sewing on the Door Flaps. on the door flaps we started first at the bottom of the side c, sewing it to the side edge of the main piece, as shown in Fig. 40, and running the seam up for a distance of exactly 3 feet 6 inches. After all the door strips had been sewed along their c edges the sewing was continued up the diagonal or a edges. In cutting out the door pieces we had allowed 1 inch on each side for hems and seams, so that the door pieces met without lapping at the exact center of the main or body piece, that is, at the peak of the tent.

The Wall Tent Set Up in the Back Yard.

Our next step was to fasten the necessary ropes and loops. Ten 8-foot lengths of light rope were procured. These were fastened at the top of the side walls, that is, 3 feet 6 inches from the ends of the main or body piece, one at each corner and one on each seam. The cloth was

Fig. 41. Adjustable Ridge Pole. strengthened at these points with patches sewed on the inside. At the bottom of the side walls we sewed on loops of heavy tape. These were spaced about 15 inches apart. Along the b edges of the door pieces tie strings of tape were fastened. A rope 15 feet long was attached to the peak at the front and at the rear of the tent. The front and rear posts of the tent were made from scantlings measuring 2 by 4 inches, which were procured from Mr. Schreiner’s lumber yard. They were planed smooth and sawed off to a length of 7 feet 6 inches. A slot was cut in the end of each stick to a depth of 6 inches and measuring slightly over an

Fig. 42. The Tent Set Up. inch in width. For the ridge pole a strip 1 inch thick, 2-1/2 inches wide and 10 feet long was secured. This was fitted into the slotted ends of these posts, where it was fastened by wooden pegs slipped into holes drilled through the ends of the posts and the ridge pole. A number of these peg holes were provided, so that if the canvas stretched the ridge pole could be raised or lowered to prevent the walls from dragging on the ground. We set up the tent in our back yard to see if it was properly constructed. Twelve stakes were required, ten for the sides and one for the ridge stays at the front and rear. The side stakes were driven into the ground at a distance of about 8 feet from the center of the tent. First we tied the guy ropes to the stakes, but later we found it much easier to secure them with tie blocks.

Tie Blocks.

Fig. 43. The Wood Tie Block.

These were made of wood 1/2 inch thick, 1 inch wide and each measured 3 inches long. A hole was drilled into the block at each end and through these holes the rope was

Fig. 44. The Wire Tie. threaded. A knot in the rope then held the end from slipping out. The loop between the two holes, or the bight, as sailors would call it, was now slipped over the stake, and the rope hauled tight by drawing up the tie block, as shown in Fig. 43. A still later improvement consisted in making ties of stout galvanized iron wire, bent to the form shown in Fig. 44. The wooden ties were apt to

Fig. 45. Bottom of Tent Wall. swell and split open when exposed to the weather, while the wire ties could always be relied upon.

The walls of the tent were held down along the bottom by railway spikes hooked through the tent loops and driven into the ground. Wooden pegs with notches to catch the loops would have served as well, but Dutchy happened to find a number of the spikes along the track and in his usual convincing manner argued that they were far better than pegs because their weight would hold the cloth down even if they were not firmly embedded in the ground.

The Annex.

We were surprised to find out how small the tent was after it was set up. We could see at once that when we had put in all the stores and provisions we would need, there would not be room enough for six boys and a man to stretch themselves out comfortably in it. Bill had evidently made a miscalculation, but he suggested that we remedy the error by building an annex for our kitchen utensils and supplies.

Fig. 46. Cutting out the Annex.

This gave us a two-room tent, which we found to be quite an advantage. Twelve more yards of drill were bought and cut into two strips, each 17 feet 2 inches long. The breadths were then sewed together, and the ends turned up and

Fig. 47. The Annex Applied. hemmed to make a piece 17 feet long and 4 feet 9 inches wide. Tape loops were then sewed on as before, and ropes were fastened on at the top of the side walls, that is, 3 feet 6 inches from the ends of the strips. We thought it would be better to have a slanting ridge on the annex, so we cut out a wedge-shaped piece from the center of the two strips, as shown by dotted lines B B in Fig. 46. This wedge-shaped piece measured 2 feet at the outer end of the annex, and tapered down to a point at the inner end. The canvas was then sewed together along these edges. Tie strings were sewed to the inner edge of the annex and corresponding ones were attached to the main tent a little ways back from the edge, so that the two could be tied together, with the annex lapping well over on the roof and side walls. A notch was cut out of the peak of the annex, so that it could be tied around the rear post of the tent, and notches were cut at the top of the side walls to permit passing the cloth around the wall ropes. Instead of supporting the ridge of the annex on a ridge pole, we used the rear guy line of the tent, propping it up with a scantling about 5-1/2 feet long.

CHAPTER V.
PREPARING FOR THE EXPEDITION.

School closed on the 21st of June that year, just ten days before the expected arrival of Uncle Ed. The first thing we did was to set up our tent in the back yard and camp out so as to become acclimatized. It is good that we did this, for the very first night a heavy summer shower came up which nearly drenched us. The water beat right through the thin canvas roof of our tent. Had we been able to afford the best quality of canvas duck, such an occurrence would probably have been avoided. But we solved the difficulty by using a tent fly; that is, a strip of canvas stretched over the tent and spaced a short distance from it to break the fall of the rain drops.

Fig. 48. The Wall Tent with the Fly fastened on.

Tent Fly.

Fig. 49. The Fly Ridge Pole.

Again we had to visit the village storekeeper; this time we bought out his whole remaining stock, sixteen yards of drill. This was cut into four-yard strips, which were sewed together as before and the ends turned up and hemmed. Tie strings were sewed to the ends of the strips so that the fly could be tied to the wall ropes of the tent. At the ridge the fly was supported about six inches above the tent rope by a second ridge pole held by pegs in the top holes of the tent posts.

Provisions and Supplies.

The ten days before Uncle Ed arrived were busy indeed. We had to gather together the necessary provisions and supplies. Our personal outfits were very simple. Each member supplied himself with a change of underwear, a bathing suit, a blanket and a toothbrush. A single comb and brush served for the entire society, and was used on Sundays, the only day we really dressed up. All the rest of the time we lived in our bathing suits, except, of course, on cold rainy days. Our kitchen outfit consisted of a large cooking pot, two kettles, a frying pan, a coffee pot, a small oil stove, a half-dozen each of plates, cups, saucers, knives and forks, a dozen spoons, two tablespoons, and, in addition, several large plates and bowls for pantry use. We also took with us a dish-pan and several dish-towels. For our larder we collected the following: A bag of flour, ten pounds of sugar, two pounds of salt, three pounds of coffee, four pounds of oatmeal, four pounds of butter, two pounds of lard, six pound of beans, six pounds of rice, three pounds of bacon, six cans of condensed milk, a dozen eggs, box of pepper, and several jars of canned peaches and pears, and also a half dozen glasses of jelly.

It was Dutchy who suggested that we have a chicken yard, in connection with our camp, to supply us with fresh eggs. It was a capital idea, and by the dint of some coaxing we managed to secure the loan of a half dozen hens and a rooster.

Our miscellaneous list included a spade, pick and shovel, an ax, a hatchet, two large pails, a barn lantern, a can of kerosene, a dozen candles, a cocoa box filled with matches, a pair of scissors, needles, buttons, pins and safety pins, a spool of white and another of black cotton, fishing tackle, a roll of heavy twine, a coil of rope, and a set of dominoes and checkers. But most important of all was a chest of tools belonging to Reddy. These were all collected when Uncle Ed arrived. Dutchy also contributed a large compass, which we found very useful later on, for surveying the island.

Crossbow.

Reddy had a shotgun which he wanted to bring along, but my father, and Dutchy’s as well, wouldn’t let us go camping if there was to be any gunpowder along, so we had to leave it behind. Of course we didn’t miss it at all when we got to the island, because there was so much else to do; but we all agreed with Dutchy, that “it wouldn’t be no sort of a scientific expedition without takin’ a gun along.” As a substitute I suggested a bow and arrow. They all laughed at such a “kiddish” idea; all but Bill, I mean.

Drifting down the Schreiners’ Brook.

Paddling in the Old Scow.

Fig. 50. Binding the Bow.

“It ain’t such a bad notion,” said he, “only a crossbow would be better. I’ve seen them made out of umbrella ribs so they’d shoot like greased lightning.” Of course we had to have one of these wonderful weapons. Down in the ash heap we found two broken umbrellas with 27-inch ribs. Bill selected ten good ribs, from which he wrenched off the spreaders with a pair of pliers. The ribs were then bound together by winding

Fig. 51. The Trigger. stout twine around them. The winding was very evenly and closely done, so that the cord completely covered the ribs, making a solid rod of spring steel. But before winding we had laid in between the ribs a piece of heavy twine, to which the bowstrings could be tied after the bow was all wound. The stock of our crossbow was cut out of a board

Fig. 52. The Trigger Set for Firing. of soft wood 1 inch thick to as near the shape of a gun as we could get it. A hole was drilled through the muzzle end to receive the bow, and then the bowstring was tied fast. Along the upper edge of the barrel a V-shaped channel was cut. The channel was not very deep, only enough to receive a tenpenny nail with the head projecting half-way above the sides. A notch was cut across the barrel, through this channel, at the trigger end, and a trigger made of heavy iron wire, bent to the shape shown in Fig. 51, was hinged to the gun by a bolt which passed clear through the stock and through both eyes of the trigger. By using two nuts on the bolt, and tightening one against the other, they were prevented from working loose and coming off. When we wanted to fire the gun the bowstring was drawn back, and held by slipping it into the notch,

Fig. 53. The Umbrella Rib Crossbow. and a nail was laid in the channel with its head against the bowstring. Then, on pulling the trigger, the bowstring was lifted out of the notch, and sent the nail off sailing. The long-grooved barrel insured a very good aim.

Megaphone.

Fig. 54. The Megaphone.

Another device we made in preparation for the expedition was a megaphone. A sheet of light cardboard 30 inches square was procured. At the center of one edge a pin was stuck into the cardboard, then a piece of stout thread was looped over the pin and the two ends were knotted together just

Fig. 55. Layout of the Megaphone. 5 inches from the pin. Another knot was also made 29 inches from the pin. Now, with a pencil hooked into the loop, and resting first against the inner knot and then against the outer one, two arcs were drawn on the paper, one of 5-inch radius and the other of 29-inch radius. A line was now drawn from the pin to the point where the longer arc met the right hand edge of the paper, and a dotted line was drawn from the pin to a point

Fig. 56. Brass Fastener. 1-1/2 inches from the edge at the other end of the arc. From a point 1 inch to the left of the pin we then drew a line to the left end of the arc. With a scissors we cut the cardboard

Fig. 57. The Mouthpiece. along the arcs and straight lines, all but the dotted line, leaving a piece of the shape shown in Fig. 55. This piece was rolled into a cone with the right edge lapped over the left edge and lying against the dotted line. In this position it was held by means of several brass fasteners of the kind shown in Fig. 56.

A mouthpiece was formed out of a block of wood in which a large hole had been drilled. The block was then cut away until the walls were quite thin. The hole was reamed out at the top, as shown in Fig. 57, and the outer surface was tapered so that the small end of the megaphone would fit snugly on it.

We planned to reach our camping grounds by way of the canal, and had provided for that purpose a large scow, which we expected to tow up to Lumberville and drag over to the river.

The Scow.

Our scow was made as follows: Two 3/4-inch pine boards, 12 inches wide and 12 feet long, were selected from Reddy’s

Fig. 58. Side pieces of the Scow. father’s lumber pile. These were used for the side pieces of the boat, and we tapered them off at the end to a width of 3-1/2 inches. This was done by making a straight cut from the end to a point three feet back along the edge of the board and then rounding off the edge with a draw-knife. When one board had been shaped, it was used as a pattern for the other, which was thus cut to exactly the same size. For the end pieces two strips, 4 inches wide and 2 feet 10-1/2 inches long, were sawed out of a 1-inch board. Then for the bottom we procured a number of 3/4-inch boards, 12 feet long and 8 inches wide, which we cut into 3-foot lengths. At Bill’s suggestion, before

Fig. 59. Frame of the Scow. nailing the parts together, we secured some strips of flannel, which were saturated with paint, and laid between the seams so as to make the boat perfectly water-tight. The side and end boards were then nailed together, with the strips of flannel between, the side boards overlapping the end boards, as shown in Fig. 59. After planing down the end

Fig. 60. Nailing on the Bottom. boards until their edges laid flush with the edges of the side pieces, the bottom boards were nailed on, strips of cloth being inserted between them, as well as along the edges of the side and end boards. To brace the bottom a 3/4-inch board was placed at the center, inside the boat, and bent down against the floor, to which it was nailed with wire nails. The nails were driven

Fig. 61. Sockets for Rowlocks. into the board from the outer side of the boat and were clinched inside. Along the upper edges of the side boards two strips 2 inches wide and 1 inch thick were nailed. Two notches were cut in the inner side of each strip before it was nailed on. The notches were 1/2 inch deep, 1-1/2 inches wide, 3 inches apart and about 5-1/2 feet from the stern end. When

Fig. 62. Thole Pin. the strips were nailed in place these notches formed sockets to receive the rowlocks. A strip was also nailed across the stern of the boat and formed with two central notches, to receive the rowlocks for a steering oar. This strip, however, was 3 inches wide, and projected 1 inch above the end board, so as to lie flush with the deck boards, which were later applied. Six thole pins, 1/2 inch thick, 4-1/2 inches long and 2 inches wide, were cut out of an oak board. The lower

Fig. 63. Nailing on the Decks. end of each pin was reduced to a width of 1-1/2 inches for a length of 2 inches. The thole pins were then fitted snugly in the notches. Two cleats, nailed to the side boards inside, 7 inches below the upper edge, served to support a seat board 1 inch thick and 2 feet 10-1/2 inches long. The aft edge of the seat was about 10 inches forward of the rowlocks. The boat was completed by nailing on a couple of deck boards at each end. The oars were made of 2-inch pine boards, 5 feet long and 5 inches wide. They were blocked out at Mr. Schreiner’s sawmill and then

Fig. 64. The Oar. shaped and smoothed down with a draw-knife and spoke-shaved. They were 1-1/4 inches at the handle and 2 inches immediately below, tapering down to a diameter of 1-1/4 inches at the top of the blade. The blades were 18 inches long, 5 inches wide, and planed down to a thickness of 1/4 inch along the edges.

CHAPTER VI.
OFF TO THE ISLAND.

The morning of July 2d dawned bright and clear, but long before daybreak the members of the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I. were astir. The jolly red sun peeping over the eastern hills witnessed an unaccustomed sight. Six greatly excited boys were running back and forth from the barn to the canal, bearing all manner of mysterious bundles, which were carefully deposited in a freshly painted scow. Yes, all six of us were there.

A Unique Alarm Clock.

We hadn’t expected to see Reddy Schreiner at such an early hour, for he was always a sleepyhead, and no alarm clock would ever wake him. But this was an exceptional day, and, besides, Reddy was quite an original chap. He had taken one of the borrowed roosters into his room the night before, and when, early in the morning, Mr. Chanticleer had mounted the footboard of the bed, flapped his wings and given vent to his opinion of a boy who persisted in sleeping at that late hour of the day, the noise was too much for even Reddy’s drowsy sensibilities.

Fig. 65. Off to the Island.

The Trip to the Island.