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THE SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN BOY

Or

The Camp at Willow Clump Island

by

A. RUSSELL BOND







[Illustration: Fun in Swimming.]



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

CHAPTER I.
                                                                     PAGE

"BILL"                                                                 17

The Old Trunk. Christmas Vacation. "Bill's" Skate Sail. Willow
Clump Island. Organizing the Society.

CHAPTER II.

SKATE SAILS                                                            26

The Double Swedish Sail. The Single Swedish Sail. The Lanteen
Sail. The Danish Sail. Bat's Wings.

CHAPTER III.

SNOW SHOES, SKIS AND SWAMP SHOES                                       35

Chair Seat Snow Shoe. Barrel Stave Snow Shoe. Barrel Hoop Snow
Shoe. The Sioux Snow Shoe. The Iroquois Snow Shoe. The Ainu
Snow Shoe. The Norwegian Ski. The Swamp Shoe or Swiss Snow
Shoe.

CHAPTER IV.

TENT MAKING                                                            44

Farewell Meeting. Word from Uncle Ed. The Canvas Tent.
Adjustable Ridge Pole. Tie Blocks. The Annex.

CHAPTER V.

PREPARING FOR THE EXPEDITION                                           53

Tent Fly. Provisions and Supplies. Umbrella Rib Crossbow.
Megaphone. The Scow.

CHAPTER VI.

OFF TO THE ISLAND                                                     63

A Unique Alarm Clock. The Trip to the Island. Preliminary
Exploration. A Rustic Table. The Small Filter. The Barrel
Filter. The _Klepalo_.

CHAPTER VII.

SURVEYING                                                             73

The Surveying Instrument. Spirit Levels. The Tripod. Surveyor's
Chain. Surveyor's Rod. A Simple Method of Surveying. Mapping
the Island.

CHAPTER VIII.

SWIMMING                                                               84

Swimming on a Plank. Shooting the Rapids. Restoring the
Drowned. How to Work over a Patient Alone.

CHAPTER IX.

BRIDGE BUILDING                                                        95

The Spar Bridge. The Rope Railway. The Suspension Bridge.
The Pontoon Bridge. The King Rod Truss. Stiffening the Bridge.
The King Post Bridge.

CHAPTER X.

CANVAS CANOES                                                         109

Uncle Ed's Departure. A Visit from Mr. Schreiner. The Sailing
Canoe. Stretching on the Canvas. The Rudder. The Deep Keel.
Canoe Sails. Lee Boards. Indian Paddling Canoe.

CHAPTER XI.

HOUSE BUILDING                                                        124

The Grass Hut. The Goblins' Dancing Platform. Dutchy
Takes a Dare. A Path Up the Fissure. Rope Ladders. The
Derrick. The Tree House. Sliding Doors.

CHAPTER XII.

TROUBLE WITH THE TRAMPS                                               138

The Scow is Stolen. A Council of War. Vengeance. A Double
Surprise. Tramp-proof Boat Mooring.

CHAPTER XIII.

WIGWAGGING AND HELIOGRAPHING                                          144

Wigwag Signals. The Wigwag Alphabet. Abbreviations. Wigwagging
at Night. The Heliograph. The Single Mirror Instrument.
The Sight Rod. The Screen. Focusing the Instrument. Heliograph
Signaling. The International Telegraph Code. The Double
Mirror Instrument.

CHAPTER XIV.

ICE BOATS, SLEDGES AND TOBOGGANS                                      158

Breaking Camp. The Ice Boat. The Sledge. The Toboggan.
The Rennwolf. Ice Creepers.

CHAPTER XV.

THE SUBTERRANEAN CLUB                                                 171

A Cave-in. Excavating for the Cave. Covering the Cave. The
Big Bug Club. Midnight Banquets. The Club Pin. The Combination
Lock.

CHAPTER XVI.

SCOOTERS                                                              183

A Sail in the Scow. Our Craft Strikes the Ice. The Scooter Scow.
A Sprit Sail. Scooter Sailing. A Meeting of the Society. An
Interview with Mr. Van Syckel. The Scooter Canoe.

CHAPTER XVII.

AN ARCTIC EXPEDITION                                                  193

Willow Clump Island in Winter. Kindling a Camp Fire. The
Outdoor Fireplace. A Stone-paved Fireplace. A Cold Night in
the Hut. Mountain Climbing. A Poor Shelter. A Costly Camp
Fire. A Friend in Time of Trouble.

CHAPTER XVIII.

TRAMPING OUTFITS                                                      203

Sleeping Bags. Bill's "Mummy Case." The "A" Tent. A
Camp Chair. A Camp Bed. The Camp Bed in a Shower. A
Nightmare. Pack Harness. Riveting.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE LAND YACHT                                                        215

The Frame of the Yacht. A Simple Turnbuckle. Stepping the
Mast. Mounting the Frame on Bicycle Wheels. The Tiller. A
"Leg-of-Mutton" Sail. A Sail Through the Country.

CHAPTER XX.

EASTER VACATION                                                       224

Bill's Cave. The Barrel Stave Hammock. The Barrel Armchair.
The Summer Toboggan. Tailless Kites. A Five-foot Malay Kite.
An Eight-foot Malay Kite. The Elastic Belly Band. Putting the
Kites to Work. The Diamond Box Kite.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE WATER WHEEL                                                       240

The Water Wheel. Surveying for the Water Wheel. Towers for
the Water Wheel. The Wheel. The Buckets. The Paddles.
The Receiving Trough. Setting Up the Towers. Mounting the
Water Wheel. Cooling the Filter Barrel. The Canvas Bucket.
Mr. Halliday's Water Wheel.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE LOG CABIN                                                         254

Foundation of Log Cabin. A Logging Expedition. The Log Raft.
The Sail-Rigged Raft. Building the Log Cabin. The Roof of
the Log Cabin. Door and Window Frames. The Fireplace.
The Proper Way to Build a Stone Wall. The Floor of the Cabin.
The Door Hinges and Latch. The Window Sash. Bunks. Stopping
up the Chinks.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE WINDMILL                                                          273

Digging the Well. The Windmill Tower. The Crank Shaft. The
Wind Wheel. A Simple Brake. The Pump. Pump Valves.
Action of the Pump.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE GRAVITY RAILROAD                                                  283

The Car. The Flanged Wheels. Car Axles. Mounting the Wheels.
The Railway Track. The Carpenter's Miter Box. Laying the Track.
The First Railway Accident. Testing the Track.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE CANTILEVER BRIDGE                                                 292

Frames for the Cantilever Bridge. Erecting the Towers. Setting up
the Frames. Binding and Anchoring the Structure. The Center
Panels of the Bridge. A Serious Interruption. Dispossessed.
Farewell to Willow Clump Island. Reddy's Cantilever Bridge.




[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 1. The Old Trunk in the Attic.]

[Illustration: Fig. 2. The Black Walnut Box.]

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 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 3. Laying Out the Sail.]

[Illustration: Fig. 4. The Tape Tie Strings.]

[Illustration: Fig. 5. "Bill's" Sail Complete.]

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, 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 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 6. Dimensions of Double Swedish Sail. N. B.--The mark
(') means feet and (") means inches.]

[Illustration: Fig. 7. Halyards Looped onto Pole.]

[Illustration: Fig. 8. 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
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 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 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 9. Changing Tack.]


THE SINGLE SWEDISH SAIL.

[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration: Fig 11. The Lanteen Sail.]

[Illustration: Fig. 12. Hinge for Spars.]

[Illustration: Fig. 13. Leather Mast Step.]

[Illustration: Fig. 14. Wooden Mast Step.]

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 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 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 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 15. The Danish Sail.]

[Illustration: Fig. 16. Topsail of the Danish Rig.]

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 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 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.

[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 21.]

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, 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.

[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 25. Sioux Shoe.]

[Illustration: Fig. 26. Frame of the Sioux Shoe.]

[Illustration: Fig 27. Web of the Sioux Shoe.]

[Illustration: Fig. 28. Weaving Needle]

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 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 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 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 29. Bending the Hickory Strips.]

[Illustration: Fig. 30. Frame of Iroquois Shoe.]

[Illustration: Fig. 31. Iroquois Snow 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 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 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 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 32. 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 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 33. The Norwegian Ski.]

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

[Illustration: Fig. 34. Bending the Ski.]

[Illustration: Fig. 35. The Ski Stick.]

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 enough to permit of bending. It was secured 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.

[Illustration: 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.


[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 38. The Sail Stitch.]

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, 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 39. Cutting out the Door Flaps.]

[Illustration: Fig. 40. Sewing on the Door Flaps.]

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

[Illustration: The Wall Tent Set Up in the Back Yard.]

[Illustration: Fig. 41. Adjustable Ridge Pole.]

[Illustration: Fig. 42. The Tent Set Up.]

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
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 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.


[Illustration: Fig. 43. The Wood Tie Block.]

[Illustration: Fig. 44. The Wire Tie.]

[Illustration: Fig. 45. Bottom of Tent Wall.]

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 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
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.

[Illustration: Fig. 46. Cutting out the Annex.]

[Illustration: Fig. 47. The Annex Applied.]

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 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 48. The Wall Tent with the Fly fastened on.]


TENT FLY.

[Illustration: 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.

[Illustration: Drifting down the Schreiners' Brook.]

[Illustration: Paddling in the Old Scow.]

[Illustration: Fig. 50. Binding the Bow.]

[Illustration: Fig. 51. The Trigger.]

[Illustration: Fig. 52. The Trigger Set for Firing.]

[Illustration: Fig. 53. The Umbrella Rib Crossbow.]

"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
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 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, 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.

[Illustration: Fig. 54. The Megaphone.]

[Illustration: Fig. 55. Layout of the Megaphone.]

[Illustration: Fig. 56. Brass Fastener.]

[Illustration: Fig. 57. The Mouthpiece.]

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 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 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
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.

[Illustration: Fig. 58. Side pieces of the Scow.]

[Illustration: Fig. 59. Frame of the Scow.]

[Illustration: Fig. 60. Nailing on the Bottom.]

[Illustration: Fig. 61. Sockets for Rowlocks.]

[Illustration: Fig. 62. Thole Pin.]

[Illustration: Fig. 63. Nailing on the Decks.]

[Illustration: Fig. 64. The Oar.]

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

[Illustration: Fig. 65. Off to the Island.]


THE TRIP TO THE ISLAND.

[Illustration: The Ledge below the Goblins' Platform.]

[Illustration: The Camp at Willow Clump Island.]

Our scow was not large enough to carry all the things we had to take
with us, but as Mr. Schreiner was going to take Uncle Ed up in his
wagon, we left the rest of our luggage for him to bring along. We boys
walked the eleven miles up the canal to Lumberville, towing the barge.
It was a tiresome task; but we divided the work into two-mile shifts,
two boys towing at a time and then each taking a mile ride as steersman
in the boat. It was about noon when we arrived at Lumberville, and then
we had to unload our boat before we could haul it out of the canal and
down to the river. The river on the Jersey side of the island was so
shallow that we waded across, pushing the boat ahead of us. The current
was too swift to permit of rowing, and it was rather hard for us to keep
our footing. But we managed to reach our destination finally without any
mishap. The island was thickly wooded, except for a small clearing where
we landed. The first thing we did was to unpack our eatables, and Jack,
the cook, soon had an appetizing pan of bacon and eggs sputtering on the
kerosene stove.

[Illustration: Fig. 66. Dragging the Scow over to the Island.]


PRELIMINARY EXPLORATION.

As no better position offered at the time we pitched our tent in the
clearing, pending a thorough search for a more suitable place elsewhere.
Around the tent we dug a trench about a foot deep to prevent water from
entering our quarters when it rained. It was about time for Uncle Ed and
Mr. Schreiner to appear with the rest of our luggage, so we did not have
time to do much exploring, but sauntered southward along the shore,
always on the lookout for their arrival. About a quarter of a mile from
the tent we came across the wreck of an old bridge, which had been
washed down by some freshet. This was a great find, and served us many
purposes, as will appear later.

While we were examining the wreck we heard a distant "halloa" from the
mainland. There was Uncle Ed sitting on a pile of goods on the railroad
bank looking for all the world like an Italian immigrant. We answered
with a shout and scrambled back to the clearing. Then we ran splashing
through the water, pushing the boat before us. It didn't take us long to
load up and carry him back to the island.


A RUSTIC TABLE.

[Illustration: Fig. 67. The Rustic Table.]

Uncle Ed entered into our fun at once. He was as enthusiastic as a boy
over the surroundings, and when we told him of the old bridge he started
right off to investigate, taking the ax with him. Soon he had pried off
a number of the planks, which we used for a flooring to our tent. Then
he built us a table out of four forked sticks, driven into the ground,
and supporting two cross sticks, on which a pair of planks were laid.


THE SMALL FILTER.

"Well, now, boys," said Uncle Ed, wiping the perspiration from his
forehead, "I am as thirsty as a whale. Where do you get your drinking
water? Is there a spring on the island?"

We told him that we used the river water.

[Illustration: Fig. 68. The Small Filter.]

"What, river water! That won't do at all," he cried. "You'll all have
the typhoid fever. We must build a filter. I brought some charcoal with
me for this very purpose."

Taking one of our pails he broke a hole in the bottom of it and stuffed
a sponge in the hole. A layer of small stones was then placed in the
pail, over this a layer of broken charcoal with the dust carefully blown
out, then a layer of clean sand, and finally a layer of gravel. Each
layer was about two inches thick. The pail was suspended from a branch
in a cool place and proved an excellent filter, the water trickling out
through the sponge being perfectly pure and sweet, no matter how dirty
it had been when poured in; but the capacity of the filter was too
small, and Uncle Ed said he would make us a larger one on the morrow if
no spring was discovered in the meantime.

The sun was getting low in the west, and we therefore postponed the
exploration of our island until the following day. We had been up since
four o'clock that morning and had done some pretty hard work; so,
immediately after supper, we turned in and, lulled by the murmuring of
the river, were soon fast asleep.


THE BARREL FILTER.

[Illustration: Fig. 69. The Barrel Filter.]

Immediately after breakfast the next day we started out in two parties
to search the island. The only discovery of any moment was that made by
Dutchy's party, which found a small island separated from ours by a
narrow channel, through which the water ran like a mill-race. No spring
was discovered, so Uncle Ed had to construct his large filter. Bill and
I went over to Lumberville in search of a couple of cider barrels and a
pailful of charcoal. The barrels were placed one on top of the other
after cutting a large hole in the top of the lower barrel, and a smaller
one in the bottom of the upper one. The latter opening was covered by an
inverted saucer. Over this we spread a 3-inch layer of coarse sand, then
a 2-inch layer of charcoal, a 4-inch layer of clear, sharp sand, and a
2-inch top layer of gravel. The lower barrel was provided with a faucet,
through which we could draw off the filtered water as desired. In order
to keep the water cool we placed the filters in a shady place near the
river, and piled up earth around the lower barrel.

"Now, boys," said Uncle Ed, "form in line there, and we will go through
a fire drill."

He arranged us about five feet apart in a line extending from the filter
to the river. We had six pails, and these Dutchy filled one at a time,
passing them up the line to Reddy, who emptied them into the upper
barrel and then threw them back to Dutchy to be refilled. Working in
this way it did not take long to fill up the filter, and the burden of
keeping the barrels full, instead of falling on one person, was shared
alike by all.

[Illustration: Fig. 70. Filling the Barrel.]


THE KLEPALO.

Our camp outfit was further augmented by a dinner call. We discovered
the necessity of such a call on our very first day of camping. Dutchy
was so excited by his discoveries of the morning that he started out
alone in the afternoon to make a further search. The rest of us were
lazy after the noon meal, and were lolling around taking it easy during
the heat of the day, and discussing plans for the future. But Dutchy's
energetic nature would not permit him to keep quiet. He took the scow
and waded with it against the strong current to the deeper and quieter
water above the island. Then he rowed a long way up stream. He was gone
all the afternoon. Supper time came and still he didn't appear. The sun
was high, and I presume he didn't realize how late it was getting.
Finally, just at sunset, he came drifting down with the current, tired
and hungry, and ready for a large meal. But we had finished our supper
an hour before, and poor Dutchy had to be content with a few cold
remnants, because the cook had declared he wouldn't prepare an extra
meal for a fellow who didn't have sense enough to know when it was meal
time.

Then it was that Uncle Ed bethought himself of the _klepalo_.

"You ought to have some sort of a dinner call," he declared, "so that
any one within a mile of camp will know when dinner is ready."

[Illustration: The _Klepalo_.]

"Did you ever hear of a _klepalo_? No? Well, I was down in
Macedonia a couple of years ago inspecting a railroad, and I stopped off
for the night at a small Bulgarian village. The next day happened to be
a _Prasdnik_, or saint's day, and the first thing in the morning I
was awakened by a peculiar clacking sound which I couldn't make out.
Calling my interpreter I found out from him that it was a _klepalo_
for calling the people to church. The people there are too poor to
afford a bell, and so in place of that they use a beam of oak hung from
a rope tied about the center, and this beam is struck with a hammer,
first on one side, and then the other. Sometimes an iron _klepalo_
is used as well, and then they strike first the beam and then the iron
bar, so as to vary the monotony of the call. I found that the wooden
_klepalo_ could be heard for a distance of about one and a half
miles over land, and the iron one for over two miles. Now we can easily
make a wooden _klepalo_ for use in this camp, and then if Dutchy,
or any of the rest of us, keep within a mile and a half of camp there
won't be any trouble with the cook."

So we built a _klepalo_, getting from Lumberville a stick of
seasoned oak, 1-1/2 inches thick, 6 inches wide and 4 feet long. A hole
was drilled into the stick at the center, and by a rope passed through
this hole the beam was suspended from a branch overhanging the camp.
Jack, the cook, regularly used this crude device to call the hungry
horde to meals.




CHAPTER VII.

SURVEYING.


One of the first things we did after getting fairly settled in our new
quarters was to make a complete survey of Willow Clump Island and its
immediate surroundings. Our surveying instruments were made as follows:


THE SURVEYING INSTRUMENT.

[Illustration: Fig. 71. Baseboard of the Surveying Instrument.]

[Illustration: Fig. 72. Sighting Blocks on the Baseboard.]

Out of a 1-inch board we cut a base 15 inches long and 4 inches wide. In
the center we sawed out a circular opening of about 3 inches diameter
and covered this at the bottom by a circular piece 1 inch thick and 5
inches in diameter, thus forming a socket in which our compass fitted
snugly. A hole 1 inch in diameter was drilled through the center of this
circular piece to receive the pivot pin of a tripod. Across each end of
the baseboard we secured a block 4 inches long, 2 inches wide and 1 inch
thick. A 1-inch sight hole was drilled through each block at its center.
A ring of cardboard, on which Uncle Ed marked with radial lines the 360
degrees of the circle, was placed over the compass socket, with the zero
and 180 degree marks pointing toward the sight blocks. The outer faces
of the end blocks were now wet with mucilage and a hair was stretched
vertically across the center of each sight hole. The hairs were then
adjusted by sighting through the holes and moving the nearer hair
sidewise until it was exactly in line with both the zero and the 180
degree marks on the cardboard. Then a hair was stretched horizontally
across the center of each sight hole. Great care was taken to place the
hairs at exactly the same height above the baseboard. To protect the
hairs after they were adjusted, they were covered with a piece of glass,
which was secured in place by tacks driven into the wood with their
heads projecting over the edges of the glass.


SPIRIT LEVELS.

From one of his pockets Uncle Ed produced two small bottles, the kind
used for holding homeopathic pills. These he filled nearly to the top
with water, corked them and wedged them into grooves cut lengthwise in
the baseboard at opposite sides of the cardboard ring. These grooves
were filled with putty, and to make sure that the bottles were level
with the baseboard the latter was floated on a bit of quiet water and
the bottles were pressed down at one end or the other until the bubble
within rested at the exact center.


THE TRIPOD.

[Illustration: Fig. 73. The Tripod Head.]

[Illustration: Fig. 74. The Tripod Leg.]

[Illustration: Fig. 75. The Surveying Instrument Complete.]

[Illustration: Fig. 76. The Protractor.]

The tripod head was formed of a wooden disk 5 inches in diameter, with a
wooden pin projecting from its center adapted to engage the hole in the
circular piece above referred to. To the bottom of the tripod head were
nailed three blocks 2 inches long and 1 inch square in cross-section.
The tripod legs were made of light strips of wood, 3/8 inch by 1 inch by
5 feet long, which we secured from one of the mills at Lumberville. Each
leg was formed of two of these strips, nailed securely together to
within 20 inches of the top. At the upper ends the strips were spread to
receive the blocks on the tripod head. In this position they were held
by headless wire nails driven into the ends of the blocks and fitting
into holes drilled in the strips. For a plumb line we tacked a cord to
the center of the tripod head, and attached a good-sized sinker to its
lower end. In connection with this plumb line we occasionally used a
protractor consisting of a semicircle of cardboard 5 inches in diameter,
on which the degrees of the circle were marked off with radiating lines,
as illustrated in Fig. 76. By holding the straight edge of this
protractor against the base of the tripod, and noting the number of
degrees between the 90 degree mark and the plumb line, we could tell at
a glance at what angle from the horizontal the instrument was tipped.


SURVEYOR'S CHAIN.

[Illustration: Fig. 77. The Surveyor's Chain.]

[Illustration: Fig. 78. Forming the Links.]

[Illustration: Fig. 79. A Double-Ringed Link.]

We made a surveyor's chain of wire links, each 12 inches long, instead
of 7.92 inches, which is the length of a standard surveyor's link. The
wire we used was No. 16 galvanized iron, which was rather stiff and
difficult to bend. In order to make all the links of exactly the same
size and shape we used a form, around which they were bent. The form
consisted of a 1-inch board in which two 1/2 inch holes were drilled,
just 11-1/2 inches apart, measured from their centers. An oak pin, 1/2
inch in diameter, was driven into each hole and projected about an inch
above the board. Two blocks of oak were secured to the baseboard, just
before each pin, as shown in Fig. 78. This form gave great satisfaction.
A groove was cut in the side of one of the pins to receive the ring of a
completed link, while the wire was passed through this ring and bent
around the peg to form the ring of the new link. After each link was
formed it was carefully measured, and, if too long, was shortened by
flattening the rings endwise, or, if too short, was lengthened by
pinching together the sides of the rings. There were fifty links in our
chain, and every tenth one was formed with a double ring at the end, so
as to distinguish it from the rest (see Fig. 79).


THE SURVEYOR'S ROD.

[Illustration: Fig. 80. Cutting Out a Disk.]

[Illustration: Fig. 81. The Sighting Disk]

[Illustration: Fig. 82 Nut Fastened in Block.]

We completed our outfit by making a surveyor's rod out of a straight
stick of wood about 6 feet long. A target or sighting disk was mounted
on the stick. This disk was 6 inches in diameter, and was sawed out of a
6-inch square board by making straight cuts across the corners and then
smoothing off the edge to a perfect circle with a draw-knife. The
thickness of the disk was only 1/2 inch. At the back of the disk we
fastened a block of wood with a slot cut in it to receive the rod, as
shown in Fig. 81. To hold the disk at different heights on the rod a
small bolt was used. The nut on this bolt was slipped into a hole on the
block at the bottom of the slot and held in place by driving in nails
about it, as illustrated in Fig. 82. The bolt was then passed through
the hole and threaded through the nut, with its inner end bearing
against the rod. The disk could thus be held at any desired position by
tightening up the bolt. A piece of white paper was now pasted over the
disk. The paper was marked off into quarters, and opposite quarters were
painted black so that it would be easy to sight, from a distance, the
exact center of the target.


A SIMPLE METHOD OF SURVEYING.

Of course, none of us had studied trigonometry, but Uncle Ed devised a
very simple method by which we could determine distances quite
accurately without much figuring.

"If you will tell me the length of one side of a triangle and the angles
it makes with the other two sides," said Uncle Ed, "I'll tell you the
length of the other two sides and the size of the third angle. This is
how I will do it:

[Illustration: Fig. 83. Diagram of Our First Lesson in Surveying.]

"Say the line is 6 inches long and one angle is 35 degrees, while the
other is 117 degrees. Let us draw a 6-inch straight line. This we will
call our base line. Now we will place the base edge of our protractor on
the base line with its center at the right hand end of the line. At the
37 degree mark we will make a dot on the paper so, and draw a line from
the right hand end of the base line through this dot. Now we will do the
same thing at the opposite end, making a dot at 107 degrees from the
line, and draw a line from the left hand end of the base line through
this dot.

"If we extend these lines until they intersect, we will have the
required triangle, and can measure the two sides, which will be found to
be about 12 inches and 8 inches long, and the third angle will measure
just 26 degrees. It doesn't make any difference on what scale we draw
the triangle, whether it be miles, yards, feet, inches or fractions of
an inch, the proportions will be the same. If the base line had been 6
half-inches, or 3 inches long, and the same angles were used, the other
two lines would measure 12 half-inches, or six inches, and 8
half-inches, or 4 inches. If the base line were 6 quarter-inches long,
the sides would be 3 inches and 2 inches long.

[Illustration: Fig. 84. Determining the Distance to the Tree.]

"Now, for example, I am going to measure the distance to that tree over
there. Get out your chain and measure off a straight line 10 feet long.
Now, I'll set the surveying instrument with the plumb-bob right over the
end of this line, and sight through the two sight holes until I bring
the two vertical hairs in line with each other and the tree. Look at the
compass needle. It points to the 173 degree mark on the cardboard ring.
Now, Bill, you hold the rod at the other end of our base line while I
swing this instrument around and sight it. There, the needle points to
92 degrees, and subtracting this from 173 the difference, 81 degrees, is
the angle at the right end of our base line. We'll do the same thing at
the other end of our line. See, the compass needle points to 189
degrees, and now sighting to the pole at the other end of the line we
find that the needle points to 268. The difference, 79 degrees, is
therefore the size of the angle at the left end of our base line. Now we
will draw this out on paper, as we did our first triangle, using
quarter-inches to represent feet. Our base line was 10 feet long, and we
will therefore draw a line 10 quarter-inches, or 2-1/2 inches long, on
our drawing board. On this line we will construct the triangle, using
the angles 81 and 79 degrees. There, that's how our triangle looks, and
the right hand side measures 7-1/4 inches, while the left hand side
measures 7-5/16 inches. That is, 29 quarter-inches for one side and
29-1/4 quarter-inches for the other. As each quarter-inch represents a
foot, you will find that the tree is about 29 feet from the right end of
our base line and 29 feet 3 inches from the left hand end. Of course,
our instrument is not perfect, neither is our drawing; but if you
measure it off with the chain you will see that I am not very far from
correct."


MAPPING THE ISLAND.

Most of our surveying was done by actual measurement, the surveying
instrument being used only to determine the exact direction of the
measurement. However, there were some measurements which we could not
make directly with the chain. For example, we wished to know just how
far it was from our tent to the Jersey shore of the river. We measured
off a base line along our shore 400 feet long and sighted to a point
directly across the river from our tent. The angle in front of our tent
was 90 degrees, and at the other end of the base line was 73 degrees.
When we drew out our triangle on the scale of 100 feet to the inch we
found that the shorter side directly in front of the tent was almost
exactly 13 inches long. This meant that the river at this point was
1,300 feet wide, nearly a quarter of a mile. On the other side of the
island we found, in the same way, that the river at its narrowest point
was about 500 feet wide. This portion of the river we named Lake Placid,
as the water was very still and quite deep. This was due to a sort of
natural dam formed at the lower end of our island. The small island that
Dutchy found was kite-shaped, with a tail of boulders which extended
almost all the way across to a rocky point on the Pennsylvania shore.
The channel between "Kite Island," as we called it, and Willow Clump
Island was not more than fifteen feet wide in some places, and through
this the water swept with a swift current down past a narrow neck of
land to join the main current. This narrow stretch of land we named the
Tiger's Tail, owing to its peculiar shape. It was in the hook at the end
of this tail that we discovered the old bridge wreck above referred to.
From the tip of the Tiger's Tail to Point Lookout, at the extreme upper
end of Willow Clump Island, it was a little under a half-mile. The shore
all along Lake Placid was very steep, except near Point Lookout. At one
place there was a shallow bay which we called the lagoon.




CHAPTER VIII.

SWIMMING.


[Illustration: Fig. 85. The Diving Tree.]

Lake Placid was a favorite swimming place for us. We used to plunge in
from the branches of a tree which overhung the water a little ways above
the lagoon and made a natural springboard. We could all swim like ducks,
except Dutchy, who couldn't do anything but paddle. However, Uncle Ed
was an expert, and he took Dutchy in hand and soon made a pretty good
swimmer out of him. He also taught us some fancy strokes. Of course I
took no record of these lessons. You would hardly expect me to sit on
the bank with a book in hand jotting down notes while the rest were
splashing around in the cool water having the best of fun in the world,
and even if I had, I wouldn't republish the notes here, because whoever
heard of a boy learning to swim while reading a book on the subject? A
beginner had better leave books alone and plunge right into the water.
He will soon learn to keep himself afloat and can then practise any
fancy strokes that he sees others try. Then, again, don't try to learn
in shallow water, because you will never do it. Of course it doesn't pay
to jump into water that is over your head unless there is a good swimmer
near by to help you out. But you will never learn to swim until you have
become accustomed to putting your head under water. You can not swim
with a dry face. The first time we went swimming, we couldn't persuade
Dutchy to try it. The water was deep right up to the very bank and he
had never been in over his head. Instead he sat up in the diving tree
swinging his feet and trying to hide the fact that he was having a dull
time.

"Say, we've got to douse that fellow," said Reddy.

"You're right; he needs a wash," said Jim. "Let's sneak up behind him
and chuck him in."

They landed a little ways up the stream behind a large bush and then
crept down stealthily on their victim. But Dutchy had his suspicions
aroused and saw them coming. He scrambled out of the tree in a jiffy and
tore off into the woods as fast as his legs could carry him.


SWIMMING ON A PLANK.

[Illustration: Fig. 86. Swimming on a Plank.]

We didn't expect to see him again that afternoon, for the pace he was
leading should have carried him miles in no time; but while he couldn't
swim, Dutchy had his own ideas of fun on the water. It was about twenty
minutes later that we saw him coming down-stream lying full length on
one of the 2-inch planks taken from the bridge wreck. He was paddling
himself along with arms and legs hung over the sides of the plank. We
all gave him a cheer, and then started out to have some fun with him. We
tried to pull him off his raft, but he stuck on like a leech. It was
only when we made his craft turn turtle that Dutchy got his head under
water. But it wasn't a moment before he scrambled back on top again,
gasping and sputtering to get the water out of his nose and mouth.

Uncle Ed all this time had been sunning himself on the bank, when
suddenly he uttered a shout of warning. We were right at the mouth of
the mill-race. For the moment we forgot about Dutchy, and swam out for
shore. Before we realized it Dutchy was caught in the current, and was
being swept full tilt down the stream. My but wasn't he scared. I can
see him yet clinging for dear life to the plank, his face the color of
ashes and his eyes bulging out in terror. First he tried to make for the
bank, but the water was so swift that when the front end of the board
struck land the rear end swung around in a circle, carrying him on
again, but backward this time, before we could reach him. Two or three
more times the plank struck the bank and turned him around, while we
raced along the high bank, scrambling down to catch him every time he
headed for shore, but each time just missing him. Then he swung out past
the Tiger's Tail into the open river just above the rapids. Fortunately
he was going along headforemost this time, and Uncle Ed, who had just
arrived, panting and breathless, from running, shouted to him to keep
his head and steer for a narrow opening between two jutting boulders. I
don't know whether Dutchy did any steering or not, but the raft shot
straight through the opening, and was lost in a cloud of spray. In a
moment he reappeared below the rapids, paddling like mad for a neck of
land on the Pennsylvania side of the river.

Dutchy would never own up that he was afraid. He never told a lie under
other circumstances, but when it came to a question of courage he had
the habit of stretching facts to the very limit. Even in this case, he
said that he started out with the idea of shooting the rapids, and if we
hadn't flustered him so, he would not have bumped into the bank and
turned about so many times. Dutchy was a very glib talker. He nearly
persuaded us that it was all done intentionally, and his thrilling
account of the wild dash between the rocks and through the shower of
spray stirred us up so that we all had to try the trick too.


SHOOTING THE RAPIDS.

The next day, while Uncle Ed was taking a nap, we stole off to the upper
end of Lake Placid, each one towing a plank. We needn't have been so
afraid of Uncle Ed, for we found out later that he intended to try a
plank ride through the rapids himself next time he went in swimming.
Down Lake Placid we paddled in single column to the mill-race. In a
moment the current had caught us and we were off. I shall never forget
the thrilling ride down the swirling mill-race, the sudden pause as we
shot out into the open river, the plunge between the boulders and the
dive through the spray. It was all over too soon. Something like
coasting--whiz, whiz-z-z, and a half-mile walk. Were it not for the
trouble of hauling the planks back by the roundabout course along the
Pennsy shore we would have thought shooting the rapids a capital game.


RESTORING THE DROWNED.

[Illustration: Fig. 87. Pressing the Water out of the Stomach.]

[Illustration: Fig. 88. Expanding the Chest.]

[Illustration: Fig. 89. Squeezing out the Air from the Lungs.]

It was on the second day after Dutchy's exploit of the rapids that Bill
came so near drowning. He probably would have drowned if Uncle Ed hadn't
been on hand to work over him. Bill was a fine swimmer, but even the
best of swimmers will sometimes get a cramp, so it is never safe for any
one to go into the water without some one at hand to help him out in
case of accident. In the present case Bill was doing some fancy strokes
by himself over near the Pennsy shore, while the rest of us were
watching Uncle Ed give Dutchy a lesson in swimming. All of a sudden Bill
threw up his hands and sank. I happened to glance up as he did it. We
thought he was fooling at first, but soon made out that he was in
genuine trouble. Uncle Ed dropped Dutchy to my tender care, and raced
over with a powerful stroke to the spot where he had last seen his
nephew. He failed to find him on the first dive, but the second time was
successful and he carried the lifeless body to the Pennsylvania shore.
In the meantime I had landed Dutchy and with the rest of the boys had
crossed the lake. Uncle Ed first laid Bill on his back and hastily wiped
dry the mouth and nostrils. Then he pried his jaws apart, holding them
open with a piece of wood wedged in between the teeth. After which he
turned him on his face over a log which was placed under his stomach. By
stomach I do not mean the bowels, but the real stomach, which lies just
under the ribs in front. Then he pressed with a good weight on the back
directly over the log for nearly a minute, causing the water to flow out
of the mouth. Dutchy had by this time rowed across in the scow, in which
fortunately there happened to be some of Uncle Ed's clothing. This he
took and rolled into a bundle, then Bill was laid on his back over the
roll of clothing, which was arranged to raise the pit of his stomach
above the rest of his body. Uncle Ed now wrapped a handkerchief around
his forefinger, and with it wiped out Bill's mouth and throat. Reddy,
who was the least excited of the lot, was told to draw Bill's tongue
forward so as to prevent it from falling back and choking the windpipe.
This he did with the dry part of the handkerchief, drawing the end of
the tongue out at the corner of the mouth, and holding it there while
Uncle Ed and I started the pumping action, which produced artificial
respiration. I was directed to grasp Bill's arms just below the elbows,
and swing them vertically in an arc until the hands met the ground again
above the head. This expanded the chest. Uncle Ed at the same time stood
over the body with his elbows on his knees and hands extended, as
illustrated in Fig. 88. Then I swung the arms up and back to the sides
of the body, but just before the hands touched the ground Uncle Ed
seized the body in both hands just below the ribs, and as soon as I
touched the arms to the ground he swung forward with all his weight on
his hands, squeezing the waist and pushing upward so as to force out the
air in the chest. Then he slowly counted, one, two, three, four, all the
time steadily increasing the pressure, until at the signal four, with a
final push, he shoved himself to the first position, shown in Fig. 88.
At the same signal I drew the arms up again over the head, and held them
there while Uncle Ed again counted four; then I returned the arms to the
sides, and Uncle Ed repeated the squeezing process. These movements were
continued for about three minutes, and then Bill gave a short, faint
gasp. We kept on with the artificial respiration, assisting the gasps,
which gradually grew stronger, until they had deepened into steady
breathing. Then we stripped off the wet bathing suit, and wrapping Bill
in Uncle Ed's clothing, laid him in the bottom of the boat. While Dutchy
hurried the boat across, Uncle Ed rubbed the patient's arms and legs.
The rest of us swam over and ran for blankets from the tent. Bill was
wrapped in one of the blankets and the other was used as a stretcher, on
which we carried him to the tent. Then one of us was sent post-haste
across to Lumberville for some whiskey, which was diluted in hot water
and given the patient a teaspoonful at a dose, every fifteen minutes at
first, and then at less frequent intervals. Uncle Ed kept Bill in bed
all the next day for fear of congestion of the lungs. He told us that
unless the patient kept perfectly quiet for a couple of days, he was
liable to be seized with a sudden attack of hard breathing that might
choke him to death in a short time. To stop such an attack he told us
that the best plan was to apply a mustard plaster to the chest, and if
the patient commenced to gasp, to start pumping the arms and squeezing
the waist so as to help him breathe. After Bill had come around and was
himself again Uncle Ed gave us a thorough drill in methods of restoring
the drowned. He laid down on the grass and made us practise on him the
various directions which he gave us.


HOW TO WORK OVER A PATIENT ALONE.

[Illustration: Fig. 90. Working alone over a Patient.]

"If you boys hadn't been so excited," he said, "I would have made you
rub Bill's body and limbs while we were pumping the air into him, but I
knew you would get in the way, and be more of a bother than a help. You
must learn to be calm in any accident; excitement doesn't pay. Keep
steadily and slowly at your pumping, for you might have to do it for
four hours before the patient comes to." He taught us just how to swing
the arms and squeeze the ribs to best advantage, and how to hold the
tongue without getting in the way of the arms as they were pumped back
and forth. There was also a special way of rubbing the arms and legs.
The limbs were always rubbed upward, or toward the body, with the bare
hands, or a dry cloth if there was one at hand, but this all had to be
done without interfering with the pumping action. "If the patient
doesn't come around in five minutes," he said, "turn him on his face
again over the roll of clothing, or any other suitable substitute, and
press out the water from the stomach, rolling him first to one side and
then to the other; be sure to get all the water out." When we had
learned our lesson well, Uncle Ed took Dutchy for his patient, and
proceeded to show us how a man could work over him alone. First he went
through the operation of squeezing the water out of him, and drying his
nose and mouth, much to the patient's discomfort; then he drew Dutchy's
tongue out of the corner of his mouth, holding it there by closing the
jaws on it, and holding the jaws together by passing a handkerchief over
his chin and lapping it over his head. After that he began to pump,
seizing the patient's arms and swinging them up over the head and back,
as before. Just as the arms were dropped back to the sides of the body,
he squeezed them in against the ribs, at the same time drawing upward
toward the head and counting four each time, as he had done before. But
the lesson was abruptly interrupted by Dutchy, whose imagination was
worked up to such a pitch that I actually believe he thought he had been
drowning. Anyway, he squirmed out of Uncle Ed's grasp, and wouldn't play
patient any longer. For several days after that we couldn't persuade him
to venture near deep water.




CHAPTER IX.

BRIDGE BUILDING.


Willow Clump Island was, for the most part, a trackless wilderness, and
as soon as we had made our map we laid out roads to the different
important points. Our main highway ran from Point Lookout to Tiger's
Tail. This road was made rather winding, to add to its picturesqueness,
and from it a number of shorter roads branched off.


SPAR BRIDGE.

[Illustration: Figs. 91 and 92. Frames for the Spar Bridge.]

[Illustration: Fig 93. The Spar Bridge.]

We ran a bridge across the mill-race at its narrowest point. This bridge
was made of trees which we had cut down in making our road. It was quite
a piece of engineering, built under Uncle Ed's guidance. Two frames were
made of the shape shown in Figs. 91 and 92. The side sticks were 15 feet
long and spaced about 10 feet apart at the base by crosspieces. At the
upper end one frame was made 6 feet wide and the other 5 feet wide. The
side and cross spars were mortised together and secured by lashing a
rope around them. To make the frames more rigid we braced them with
diagonal braces nailed on. When completed we set the frames up on
opposite sides of the stream and with ropes carefully lowered their
upper ends until they interlocked, the side spars of each frame resting
on the cross spars of the other. In the angles formed by the crossing
side spars a center spar was laid, and a number of floor beams or spars
were stretched to this from the opposite shores. On these a flooring was
spread made of saplings, cut and trimmed to the right size. A rustic
railing on each side of the bridge completed the structure.


THE ROPE RAILWAY.

[Illustration: Fig. 94. The Swing Seat.]

[Illustration: Fig. 95. Tying the Ropes to the Seat.]


The mill-race was crossed further down by a rope line on which we rigged
a traveling carriage. A light manila rope was used, anchored to a tree
at each side about fifteen feet from the ground. A pulley block with a
wheel or sheave 4 inches in diameter was mounted to travel on the rope.
Suspended from this block by means of fall and tackle was a swing seat.
This, as shown in Fig. 94, was merely a board fastened with four rope
strands to the ring of the tackle block. A single rope was used, with
the ends tied firmly together. The loop thus formed was passed through
the ring of the tackle block and the opposite ends were twisted over the
ends of the seat board in the manner illustrated in Fig. 95. The tackle
blocks were quite small, having 2-inch sheaves, and they, together with
the large pulley or "traveling block," as we called it, cost us about
$2.50. Two light ropes were fastened to the large traveling block, each
rope long enough to reach across the stream. The ropes extended to
opposite anchorages, where each was passed over a branch of the tree and
belayed on a cleat within easy reach. A fellow could draw himself up
clear of the ground by pulling on the free end of the fall, as a painter
does; then tying the swing fast in this position, he would pull himself
across the stream by means of the rope stretched to the opposite
anchorage. The swing could be drawn back by the next one who wanted to
cross. We also used this aerial line for transporting loads from one
island to the other.

[Illustration: Fig. 96. The Rope Railway.]


SUSPENSION BRIDGE.

[Illustration: Fig 97. Barrel-stave Flooring.]

[Illustration: Fig. 98. The Suspension Bridge.]

Our aerial railway didn't last long. We soon tired of it, and instead
utilized the materials for a rope suspension bridge. We procured from
Lumberville half a dozen old barrels and used the staves as a flooring
for the bridge. The staves were linked together by a pair of ropes at
each end woven over and under, as indicated in the drawing Fig. 97.
Notches were cut in the staves to hold the ropes from slipping off. The
flexible flooring thus constructed was stretched across the river and
secured to stakes driven firmly in the ground. A pair of parallel ropes
were extended across the stream about three feet above the flooring,
with which they were connected at intervals of five feet. The bridge was
25 feet long, and while rather shaky, owing to the fact that there were
no braces to prevent it from swaying sidewise, still it was very strong
and did excellent service.


PONTOON BRIDGE.

[Illustration: Fig. 99. The Pontoon Bridge.]

At the head of the mill-race, where the channel was fifty feet wide, we
built a pontoon bridge. We were fortunate in securing six good cider
barrels at low cost, also a quantity of "slabs" from one of the sawmills
of Lumberville. "Slab" is the lumberman's name for the outside piece of
a log which is sawn off in squaring up the sides. We made a raft of
these materials and floated them down the river to Lake Placid. The
bridge was made by anchoring the barrels in the channel about eight feet
apart, and laying on them the floor beams, which supported a flooring of
slabs. The floor beams were narrow planks 1 inch by 4 inches, taken from
the bridge wreck, and they were placed on edge to prevent sagging. Of
course we had no anchors for securing the barrels, but used instead
large stones weighing about 100 pounds each, around which the anchor
lines were fastened. We found it rather difficult to sink these
improvised anchors at just the right places, for we were working at the
very mouth of the mill-race, and were in constant danger of having our
scow sucked down into the swirling channel. Once we were actually drawn
into the mill-race and tore madly down the rushing stream. By Bill's
careful steering we managed to avoid striking the shore, and just as we
were off the Tiger's Tail Reddy succeeded in swinging a rope around an
overhanging limb and bringing us to a sudden stop. A moment later we
might have been dashed against the rocks in the rapids below and our
boat smashed. Shooting rapids in a scow is a very different matter from
riding through them on a plank.


THE KING ROD TRUSS.

Our bridge building operations were not entirely confined to the island.
Two of them were built on the Schreiner grounds at Lamington. Reddy
Schreiner's home was situated a little distance above the town where
Cedar Brook came tumbling down a gorge in the hills and spread out into
the Schreiners' ice pond. Thence it pursued its course very quietly
through the low and somewhat swampy ground in the Schreiners' back yard.
Over this brook Reddy was very anxious to build a bridge. Accordingly,
before returning to school in the fall Bill made out a careful set of
plans for the structure, and after we had gone the rest of the society,
under Reddy's guidance, erected the bridge.

[Illustration: Fig. 100. The King Rod Bridge.]

The structure was a cross between a suspension bridge and a spar bridge.
The banks of the stream were so low that, instead of resting the floor
of the bridge on top of the inclined frames, as we had done over the
mill-race, it was suspended from the spars by means of wires. The
crossing ends of the spars were nailed together and their lower ends
were firmly planted about four feet apart in the banks of the brook. A
stick nailed to the apex of each pair of spars served temporarily to
brace them apart. The center cross beam of the bridge was now suspended
from the spars by means of heavy galvanized iron wire (No. 14, I should
say). The beam was hung high enough to allow for stretch of the wire,
making the roadway incline upward from both sides to the center. Aside
from carrying the floor of the bridge, this beam was used to brace the
inclined spars when the temporary crosspiece was removed. The ends of
the beam projected about thirty inches beyond the bridge at each side,
and they supported braces which extended diagonally upward to the
crossing ends of the spars. When this was done the temporary crosspiece
above referred to was removed. As the span between the center cross beam
and the banks was a little too long to provide a steady floor, a couple
of intermediate cross beams were suspended from the inclined spars. The
floor beams were then laid in place and covered with a flooring of
slabs.


STIFFENING THE BRIDGE.

The bridge was a pretty good one, except for a slight unsteadiness
between the center and either end. When Uncle Ed saw it he showed us at
once where the trouble lay. Our intermediate cross beams were hung from
the center of the spars, and consequently made them bend, because the
strain came across their length, while at the center of the bridge there
was no chance for the spars to bend, because the strain was exerted
along their length, that is, it tended merely to push the ends of the
spars deeper into the banks. To remedy the trouble he proposed propping
up the center of each spar with a brace running from the center
crosspiece. The dotted lines in Fig. 100 show how these braces were
applied. They made the floor perfectly solid throughout, and gave the
bridge a much better appearance. Uncle Ed told us that the structure
might be called a "king rod truss," except that in place of rods we had
used wires.

[Illustration: The King Rod Bridge.]

[Illustration: The Bridge over Cedar Brook Gorge.]


THE KING POST BRIDGE.

The other bridge on the Schreiner property was built in the following
summer, just before we started on our second expedition to Willow Clump
Island. It spanned the brook at the gorge, and was therefore a more
difficult engineering feat. Mr. Schreiner himself asked us to build it,
and we felt greatly honored by the request. A search was made in the Van
Syckel library for a suitable type. At last we found one that seemed
properly suited to the requirements. It was called a "king post truss,"
and was very similar to the king rod bridge. While the design of the
bridge was simple, yet it required some ingenuity to put it together. In
setting up the other bridge the scow had been anchored in the center of
the stream and used as a working platform, from which it had been an
easy matter to put the various parts together. In this case our scow was
obviously of no use, so we laid a couple of long logs across the chasm,
and a few slats were nailed across them to provide a temporary bridge or
working platform. The platform sagged considerably at the center,
because the span was fully eighteen feet; but the logs were large, and
we knew they were strong enough to support our weight. However, as an
extra precaution, we tied the ends to stakes driven in the ground, so
that they could not possibly slip off the banks.

[Illustration: Fig. 101. The King Post Frame.]

[Illustration: Fig. 102. The King Posts Set in Position.]

[Illustration: Fig. 103. The Permanent Cross Beam Made Fast.]

First we set about constructing the king posts, which were made as shown
in Fig. 101. Two stout posts 7 feet long were connected at the top by a
tie stick, which spaced them 4 feet apart. To make a secure fastening
they were notched together and strengthened with diagonal braces. Each
king post was notched on opposite sides, at about thirty inches from the
top. A temporary tie piece was also nailed across the lower ends of the
king posts. The frame thus formed was set up at the center of the span
and temporarily held by nailing the lower tie piece to the working
platform. Four stout spars were now cut, each about fifteen feet long.
Taking a pair at a time, we planted their lower ends firmly in the
opposite banks and sawed off their upper ends until they could just be
hammered into the notches in the king post. This required careful
fitting, but by making the spars a little too long to start with, and
then shaving them down with a draw-knife, we managed to make fairly good
joints. A couple of long wire nails in each spar made the structure
perfectly secure. The king posts were now sawed off just above the
temporary tie piece, and the permanent cross beam was fastened to these
ends with straps of heavy wire wound tightly about them. The working
platform sagged so much that we were able to lay this cross beam above
it. From the ends of the cross beam diagonal braces extended to the king
posts (Fig. 103). Our working platform was now removed and replaced with
the permanent floor beams, which were firmly nailed to the center cross
beam and to the inclined spars at the shore ends. The floor beams were
quite heavy and needed no support between the king posts and shore. A
rustic floor was made of small logs sawed in two at Mr. Schreiner's
sawmill. Light poles were nailed to the flooring along each edge, giving
a finish to the bridge. We also provided a rustic railing for the bridge
of light poles nailed to the king posts and the diagonal spars.




CHAPTER X.

CANVAS CANOES.


Like all inhabitants of islands, we early turned our attention to
navigation. Our scow was serviceable for transporting materials back and
forth across the strips of shallow water between our quarters and the
Jersey shore. We never attempted to row across, because progress would
have been entirely too slow, and we would have drifted down to the
rapids long ere we could reach the opposite side. But on Lake Placid
matters were different. Although there was no settlement near us on the
Pennsylvania shore, to occasion our crossing the water for provisions
and the like, yet the quiet stretch was admirably suited to boating for
pleasure, and mighty little pleasure could we get out of our heavy scow.


UNCLE ED'S DEPARTURE.

Owing to a sudden business call Uncle Ed left us after he had been with
us nearly three weeks. But, before going, he explained carefully to Bill
just how to construct a canvas canoe. Jack, the cook, who was anxious to
lay in a second supply of provisions, accompanied Uncle Ed as far as
Millville, the next town below Lamington. Here Uncle Ed bought five
yards of canvas, 42 inches wide, several cans of paint and a quantity of
brass and copper nails and tacks. These supplies, together with the food
provisions that Jack had collected, were brought to us late in the
afternoon by Mr. Schreiner. Mr. Schreiner also brought the necessary
boards and strips of wood for the framework of our canoe.


A VISIT FROM MR. SCHREINER.

We invited Mr. Schreiner to spend the night with us, and this he did
after fording with some difficulty the swift-running river. In the
morning we showed him our quarters, our filter, the roads we had built,
the spar bridge across to Kite Island, our surveying instrument and the
chart we had made of the vicinity. He was greatly pleased with our work,
and it was then that he gave us an order for the bridge over the gorge.
From that day on he became our staunchest ally, so that when my father
and Mr. Van Syckel complained that we were loafing away a lot of time
which could be more profitably spent in study or work, Mr. Schreiner
stood up for us and declared that our experiences on the island were
doing us far more good, both physically and mentally, than any other
work that they could conceive of; that before condemning us they should
pay us a visit and see how we were employing our time.


THE SAILING CANOE.

[Illustration: Exploring the River in the Indian Canoe.]

[Illustration: Fig. 104. Stern Post of the Canoe.]

[Illustration: Fig. 105. Stern of the Canoe.]

[Illustration: Fig. 106. Center Form.]

[Illustration: Fig. 107. Bulkheads.]

[Illustration: Fig. 108. Center Braces.]

[Illustration: Fig. 109. Top View of the Canoe Frame.]

[Illustration: Fig. 110. Side View of the Canoe Frame.]

Immediately after Mr. Schreiner's departure we started work on the
canoe. A strip of spruce 1 inch thick, 3 inches wide and 12 feet long
served as the keelson. At the stern a post 1-1/2 inches thick, 3 inches
wide and 13 inches high was secured to the keelson with brass screws.
This was braced as indicated in Fig. 104. At the bow a stem piece was
attached to the keelson. This stem was cut to a somewhat semicircular
form, as shown in Fig. 105. The outer edge was tapered with a draw-knife
to a thickness of 1/4 inch and a brace was nailed to the inner edge. Our
next work was to cut out three forms, one of the shape shown in Fig. 106
and two like that shown in Fig. 107. The first form was set up on the
keelson midway between the stem and stern, and the other two were spaced
about four feet each side of the center form. The center form was used
only for shaping the frame of the boat, and was not intended to be
permanently affixed to the canoe. Therefore, we fastened it to the
keelson very lightly, so that it could be readily removed. The other two
forms, however, were made permanent parts of the frame, serving as
bulkheads. The gunwales were now secured in position. These were of
spruce 3/4 inch thick and 2 inches wide. The ends were beveled off so as
to neatly fit the stem piece and the stern post, to which they were
fastened by brass screws. Then we applied the longitudinal strips, or
rib bands, which were of 1/4-inch thick spruce 1 inch wide. Ten of these
bands were used, equally spaced apart on the center form, to which they
were lightly tacked; but they were nailed securely to the bulkheads and
the stem piece and stern post. The cross ribs were made of barrel hoops
which we had soaked in water for a day or so to render them pliable
enough to be bent into place. These hoops were split to a width of 1/2
inch, and secured first to the keelson, then to the longitudinal strips
and finally to the gunwales. Copper tacks were used for nailing the ribs
in place, and these were long enough to be passed through the rib bands
and clinched on the outside. Forty cross ribs were nailed on, and at the
center of the canoe they were spaced about three inches apart. The
center form was then removed and cut along the dotted lines shown in
Fig. 106. The semicircular pieces thus obtained were now strengthened
with strips on their inner edges, and wedged in between the keelson and
the gunwales, to which they were nailed, as shown in Fig. 108. A pair of
cleats nailed to the cross ribs served as supports for the seat of the
canoe. The frame of the boat was completed by nailing in place two deck
beams of 1/2-inch square pine and four corner pieces between the
gunwales and the bulkheads, so as to make an elliptical well hole or
deck opening. Before laying on the canvas covering the edges of the
gunwales, keelson, deck beams, stem and stern posts were smoothed down
with sandpaper.

[Illustration: Fig. 111. Lacing the Canvas on the Frame.]


STRETCHING ON THE CANVAS.

[Illustration: Fig. 112. Tacking the Canvas to the Keel.]

The frame was laid in the center of the canvas and the latter drawn
around it. Then with a large needle and strong twine we sewed both edges
of the cloth together with long stitches, lacing the canvas over the
frame as a shoe is laced over a foot. This done, the boat was turned
deck downward and the canvas was tacked to the keelson. In each case,
before driving in a tack a daub of white lead was applied, to
water-proof the spot. At the stem and stern a gore (narrow triangular
piece) was cut out of the canvas so as to make it lie smooth on the
frame, and white lead was painted in between the overlapping edges. The
canoe was then turned deck upward and the lacing tightened, while we
carefully worked out all wrinkles in the cloth. After tacking the canvas
along the gunwales on the outside, it was trimmed off, leaving
sufficient margin to be brought over the gunwales and tacked inside. Two
triangular pieces were cut out for the decks, and these were lapped over
the outer canvas and tacked to the gunwales. A narrow molding along the
edge of the boat served to cover the tack heads and added a certain
finish to the canoe. A keel plate 2 inches wide and 1 inch thick was
attached to the outside of the boat, and then, after wetting the canvas,
it was given a coat of white lead and oil. When this was perfectly dry
it was sandpapered and the second coat applied.


THE RUDDER.

[Illustration: Fig. 113. The Rudder.]

[Illustration: Fig. 114. The Rudder Hinge.]

The canoe was now complete except for the rudder, which was cut from a
1/2-inch board to about the shape shown in Fig. 114. Strips 1-1/2 inches
wide and 1/2 inch thick were nailed to each side of the blade, forming a
post, to the top of which a crosspiece or tiller was fastened. A cleat
nailed to the pillar at each side of the rudder post served to greatly
strengthen the joint. The rudder was hinged to the canoe by a rod, which
passed through four brass screw eyes, two threaded into the rudder and a
corresponding pair screwed into the stern. For convenience in steering
we ran our tiller rope clear around the boat, through screw eyes in the
gunwales and a pulley at the stem, so that the steersman could guide his
craft from any point in the canoe.


THE DEEP KEEL.

[Illustration: Fig. 115. Bottom of Canoe, Showing Deep Keel.]

[Illustration: Fig. 116. End View, Showing Deep Keel.]

We planned to use our canoe as a sailboat, and had to provide a deep
keel, which, for convenience, was made detachable. This keel was 6
inches wide, 1/2 inch thick and 6 feet long, and was fastened at the
center of the canoe. Screw eyes about twelve inches apart were threaded
alternately into opposite sides of the keel plate. Corresponding hooks
were attached to the keel in position to hook into the screw eyes, and
thus hold the keel firmly in place.


CANOE SAILS.

[Illustration: Fig. 117. The Mast Step.]

[Illustration: Fig. 118. The Mainsail.]

[Illustration: Fig. 119. The Mizzen Sail.]

Our boat was fitted with two masts, a mainmast and a mizzen or dandy
mast. The former was 6 feet long and the latter 4 feet long, and each
measured 1-1/2 inches in diameter at the base, tapering to about 1 inch
diameter at the upper end. They were held in brass bands, or clamps,
bent around them and secured to the bulkheads, as shown in Fig. 117. The
sails were of the lanteen type. The mainsail measured 8-1/2 feet along
the boom, 9-1/2 feet along the yard and 10 feet at the leach. The
dimensions of the mizzen sail were: along the boom, 5 feet; along the
yard, 5-1/2 feet; and at the leach, 6 feet. The boom was attached to a
strap of leather on the mast, and was thus given freedom to swing around
in any desired position. The yard was similarly attached, and was raised
by a cord, which passed through pulleys at the top and at the base of
the mast and extended to a cleat within easy reach of the occupant of
the boat. A double paddle was fashioned from a board 1 inch thick, 6
inches wide and 6 feet long. The blades were shaved down to a thickness
of 3/8 of an inch at the edges.

It will be observed that we used no iron in the construction of this
boat. Uncle Ed has warned us not to, because iron rusts out so easily
and is apt to damage both the canvas and the wood with which it is in
contact.

[Illustration: Fig. 120. The Double Paddle.]

A canoe is rather a tipsy thing to sail in, as we soon learned, and it
was lucky that we could all swim, else our vacation might have ended
very tragically; for the very first time Bill and I tried the boat an
unexpected gust of wind struck us and over we went. We were very poor
sailors at first, but it didn't take us long to catch on.


LEE BOARDS

One thing that bothered us greatly in sailing was the keel of our canoe.
It was forever getting twisted, particularly when we tried to make a
landing. There were only a few places along the island where the water
was deep enough to permit our coming right up to shore without striking
the keel. The fastening was not very strong, and every once and awhile
it would be wrenched loose. The matter was made the subject of a special
letter to Uncle Ed, and in due time his answer was received. As usual,
he offered a first-class solution of the difficulty. "Don't use a keel,"
he wrote; "lee boards are much better." Then he went on to explain what
was meant by lee boards: "The leeward side of a boat is the opposite of
the windward side; that is, that side of the boat which is sheltered
from the wind. Lee boards, then, are boards which are hung over the lee
side of a boat to prevent it from drifting to leeward, and they serve to
take the place of a keel or centerboard."

[Illustration: Fig. 121. A Lee Board.]

[Illustration: Fig. 122. Section of the Canoe, Showing Lee Board.]

[Illustration: Fig. 123. The Lee Boards in Use on Canoe.]

Following Uncle Ed's direction we fastened a strip of wood across the
canoe about six feet from the bow, nailing it firmly to the gunwales.
This provided a support to which the lee boards were secured. The lee
boards were paddle-shaped affairs of the form and dimensions shown in
Fig. 121. Each paddle near the top was hinged to the end of a board
three inches wide and a foot long. The paddle was held at right angles
to the board by means of a hook. Each board was fastened with door
hinges to a baseboard which extended the width of the boat and was
attached to the crosspiece of the canoe by means of a couple of bolts.
The bolt heads were countersunk, so that the hinged boards could lie
flat over them. To the top of each lee board two ropes were attached,
one passing forward around a pulley and thence back to a cleat within
easy reach of the occupant of the canoe, and the other passing directly
back to this cleat. By pulling the former rope the lee board was lifted
out of the water, while the latter rope was used to swing the board into
working position. When tacking to port (left), the board on the left
side of the canoe was lowered and the other was raised, as shown in Fig.
123, and when tacking to the starboard (right) the board on the right
side was lowered, while the left one was raised.

[Illustration: The Indian Canoe Fitted with Lanteen Sail and Lee Boards.]


THE INDIAN PADDLING CANOE.

[Illustration: Fig. 124. Center Form.]

[Illustration: Fig. 125. Intermediate Form.]

[Illustration: Fig. 126. The Stem Piece.]

[Illustration: Fig. 127. Skeleton Frame of Canoe.]

[Illustration: Fig. 128. Section at Center of Canoe.]

Our sailing canoe proved such a good one that we decided to build a
second. This was to be much lighter, for paddling only, and of the true
Indian shape, with wide, bulging sides and raised stem and stern. The
dimension of the forms used are given in Figs. 124 and 125. These forms,
it will be observed, were notched to receive the keelson and gunwales.
The keelson was formed of 1-inch spruce 3 inches wide and 10 feet long.
The stem and stern, which were both of the same shape, were cut from a
12-inch board to the form shown in Fig. 126, and were firmly secured to
the keelson. This made the boat 12 feet long. The forms were then set in
place on the keelson, one at the center and the others three feet each
side. The gunwales were formed of 3/4-inch by 2-1/2-inch spruce, and the
twelve rib bands used were of the size used in our first boat. As none
of these forms was to remain in the boat, nails were driven very lightly
into them, with heads projecting so that they could easily be withdrawn
when it was time to remove the forms. The cross ribs were passed under
the keelson inside of the rib bands and outside of the gunwales, as
shown in Fig. 128. After they were set in place and firmly secured with
copper tacks, a band was nailed to the keelson to form the keel. To
produce the raised stem and stern, four wedge-shaped pieces were nailed
to the tops of the gunwales, as indicated in Fig. 129. The forms were
then removed and were replaced with cross sticks braced between the
gunwales. The center cross stick was provided with two corner pieces, as
shown in Fig. 130, adapted to fit under the gunwales and against the rib
bands. The canvas was then applied in the manner described before, but
was tacked to the upper edge of the gunwale instead of the outer side,
and the tacks were covered by a half-round molding which extended around
the entire boat. After the lacing was cut the edge of the canvas was
secured to the under edges of the gunwales. The canoe was then completed
by fastening on a 1-inch square keel and treating the boat with two
coats of paint. The paddle was a duplicate of the one described in
connection with the sailing canoe.

[Illustration: Fig. 129. Wedge Pieces at the Ends.]

I remember that we eventually equipped our paddling canoe with a sail
and a pair of lee boards, though no record of this fact appears in the
chronicles of the society.

[Illustration: Fig. 130. The Cross Braces.]




CHAPTER XI.

HOUSE BUILDING.


One afternoon Fred, who had waded over to Lumberville after some
provisions, came splashing back holding aloft a large square envelope.
It was from Uncle Ed and contained a photograph of a group of Wichita
Indians building a large grass lodge. In a brief explanatory letter
Uncle Ed suggested that we build a similar hut on our Island.


THE GRASS HUT.

[Illustration: Fig. 131. Making the Frame of the Straw Hut.]

[Illustration: Fig. 132. Doorway of the Hut.]

The grass lodge appealed to us as very picturesque, and we set to work
immediately on its construction. We made our hut much smaller, however,
only 12 feet in diameter, and 8 or 9 feet high. First we procured two
dozen light poles between 10 and 12 feet long. These we set up about 18
inches apart in a circle like a stockade, the sticks being buried in the
ground to a depth of 12 inches. At one side a space of 3 feet was
allowed for a doorway. Inside the stockade we erected a working platform
of planks supported on barrels, and standing on this we took two
opposite poles, bent them inward and lashed their upper ends together.
Then a second pair of opposite poles were similarly bent inward and
tied, and so we proceeded until the entire stockade had been converted
into a dome-shaped cage. Around these poles we laid lighter sticks, or
bands, tying them at the points of intersection. At the doorway two
posts were set firmly in the ground, projecting upward to a height of 4
feet. A lintel nailed across the top of the posts completed the door
frame. Sticks were nailed to the lintel and to the side posts, extending
to the main frame of the hut, to which they were tied. We were now ready
to thatch our hut. Reddy and Dutchy went over to Lumberville for several
bales of straw. We tied the straw in bunches and applied it to the
frame, copying, as best we could, the process illustrated in the
photograph.

But for its location the hut would have proved a very serviceable
habitation. In order to have a good, dry dwelling without laying down a
board flooring, we had selected for its site the sandy shore at Point
Lookout. This part of the island was not sheltered with trees, and the
hot sun beat down on our hut so strongly that we found the quarters very
uncomfortable indeed. It was this fact that led to the construction of a
tree hut--a building that would be perfectly dry and yet shaded and
cool. Bill had read of such houses in the Philippines and felt confident
that we could build one. We couldn't decide at first where to locate our
hut until Dutchy moved that we build it in the gnarled oak tree
overlooking the "Goblins' Dancing Platform." Immediately the motion was
seconded and unanimously carried.


THE GOBLINS' DANCING PLATFORM.

Just above the town of Lumberville there was a cliff which rose sheer
200 feet above the level of the river. So perpendicular was the cliff
that a stone dropped from the overhanging ledge at the top would fall
straight down to the railroad track below without touching a twig in its
course. Back of this broad ledge there was a very peculiar formation. A
column of stone rose abruptly 40 feet higher and was topped with a large
slab about 12 feet in diameter. This was known all over that region as
the Goblins' Dancing Platform. The only possible way of gaining the
summit of the column was by climbing a scraggly oak tree which grew on
the high ground back of the pillar, crawling out on an overhanging limb,
and then dropping down to the platform below. It was in this oak that we
decided to build our house. It was a very inaccessible spot, and to
reach it we had to make a wide detour around the back of the hill, and
through the fields of a cranky farmer, who more than once threatened to
fill us with bird shot for trespassing on his property. How were we to
carry all our building materials up to this great height? One would
think that the difficulties would be enough to discourage us, but not so
with the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I. Nothing daunted us.


DUTCHY TAKES A DARE.

Our first task was to try some other approach to the top of the cliff.
At one side of the overhanging ledge there was a fissure in the rocks
which ran from the base of the pillar to the foot of the cliff. Down
this zigzag crevice Dutchy had scrambled, one afternoon, on a dare. We
were rather frightened when he started, because it was a very hazardous
undertaking, and we watched him anxiously, peering over the edge of the
precipice. By bracing his back against one of the walls of the rock, and
digging his feet into the niches and chinks of the opposite wall, he
safely made his way to a shelf about half-way down, where he paused to
rest. From that point on the fissure widened out, and a steep, almost
vertical incline, sparsely covered with vegetation, led to the railroad
track below. I think he must have become rather frightened at his
position, because he hesitated long before he resumed his downward
course, and when he finally did make the attempt his foot slipped upon
the moss-covered rocks and down he fell, scratching and clawing at every
shrub within reach. Believing him to be killed, we rushed down the hill
and around to the foot of the cliff. It probably took us about fifteen
or twenty minutes, though it seemed ages before we came upon our
venturesome comrade coolly trying to pin together a rent of inconvenient
location and dimensions in his trousers.

"Say, Dutchy, are you killed?" cried Bill, breathlessly.

"Killed, nothing," he replied, with scorn. "I suppose you fellows think
I had a fall. Well, I didn't."

"You didn't, eh? We saw you slip."

"Oh, go on. I came down that way on purpose. There was no use in picking
my way down like a 'fraid cat, when I could just as well take a smooth
and easy toboggan slide on the bushes all the way down."

Smooth and easy toboggan slide! Well, you should have seen the hillside.
The course was well defined by the torn and uprooted shrubs and the pile
of branches and vines at Dutchy's feet. Whether the hare-brained Dutchy
really imagined he could glide easily down on the shrubbery, his frantic
movements on the way certainly belied his story, and when, the next day,
we proposed that he repeat the trick, somehow he didn't seem to be very
enthusiastic on the subject.

[Illustration: Wichita Indians Building a Straw Hut.]


A PATH UP THE FISSURE.

[Illustration: Fig. 133. The Jacob's Ladder.]

It was up this fissure that we decided to haul materials for our tree
hut. Our first task was to build steps and ladders in the steepest
parts. We had no tool for cutting out niches in the rock, but wherever
natural depressions were formed we wedged in sticks of wood between the
side walls to serve as ladder rungs. If no such niches appeared for
considerable height, we would stretch a rope ladder to the next fixed
rung. In most places the natural formation of the rock was such as to
afford sufficient footing.


ROPE LADDERS.

[Illustration: Fig. 134. Rope Ladder.]

The rope ladders were made of two parallel side straps, tightly
stretched between the fixed sticks, and then at intervals of fifteen
inches we inserted the ends of the ladder rung between the strands of
the rope. Below and above each rung the rope was bound with cord. The
rungs were notched at the ends to prevent them from slipping out.

[Illustration: Fig. 135. A Ladder Rung.]

[Illustration: Fig. 136. The Derrick.]

After providing a means for scaling the cliff (we called it the Jacob's
Ladder), we were still confronted with the problem how to cart our
building materials to the top. It was a very hard task and you couldn't
have hired us to do it under any other circumstances. First, Bill
planned out on paper just how the house was to be built, and we cut all
the pieces to the right size so as not to carry up any superfluous
matter. When all was ready the boards and sticks were loaded on the
scow, and ferried over to the cliff. Then we carried them on our backs,
three or four at a time, up the slanting hillside to the first ledge.
From there up, owing to the steepness of the ascent, we had to employ
different tactics.


THE DERRICK.

[Illustration: Fig. 137. The Derrick in Use.]

A derrick was constructed of two sticks 10 feet long, which were bolted
together at the top, and secured about five feet apart at the bottom by
a cross piece, as shown in Fig. 136. The derrick was then taken apart
and with some difficulty hauled piecemeal up to the next ledge above.
Here it was put together again. The fall and tackle used in our aerial
railway was attached to the apex of the derrick, and the latter was then
erected with the legs set into depressions in the ledge and the upper
ends slanting outward but kept from falling over the edge by a rope tied
to one of the fixed rungs set in the fissure. With this derrick we
hoisted up the boards in a few hauls. The job was a very ticklish one,
but Bill used the greatest care to prevent accident. The derrick, rope
and tackle were carefully tested before used, and as soon as the load
was attached to the lower pulley block the two who did the loading were
instructed to crawl back into the fissure so as to be out of danger in
case anything gave way. At one time a stick which had been carelessly
tied did fall, and it might have badly hurt some one had we not observed
this precaution. When we had raised the material to the second ledge we
transferred operations to the top ledge, and when the materials had been
hauled up to this point we finally rigged up our fall and tackle in the
old oak tree itself.


THE TREE HOUSE.

[Illustration: Fig. 138. Main Girder of the Tree House.]

[Illustration: Fig 139. Top View of the Platform.]

The tree had two large limbs which extended out at a wide angle from the
main trunk. Across these two limbs, at about seven feet out, we laid our
first girder, nailing it securely in place. Then to the main trunk we
nailed the second girder on a level with the first. Diagonal braces were
extended from the trunk to support the ends of this girder, and a tie
piece was nailed to the braces, as shown in Fig. 138, to prevent them
from spreading. The girders were rough sticks about 4 inches in diameter
and 10 feet long. We cut flat faces on them at the points where they
were nailed to the tree, and then, to make them doubly secured, we
nailed cleats, or blocks of wood, to the tree under them. The floor
beams were then laid across and nailed to the girders. They were cut to
a length of 10 feet so as to project beyond the outer girder to provide
for a piazza overhanging the Goblins' Platform. Six floor beams were
used, spaced 20 inches apart. All branches projecting up between the
beams were then cut away and a flooring of slabs was laid on. To the
main trunk six feet above the flooring, a stick or (to use the technical
term), "wall plate," was nailed on, and its ends were supported by
upright posts resting on the platform. Thirty inches from the outer end
of the platform two more posts were erected eight feet high and secured
by sticks nailed across from the other posts, and also by a second wall
plate connecting their upper ends. Four more posts were erected, one
between each pair of the corner posts, and then we were ready to enclose
the framing.

[Illustration: Fig. 140. The Frame of the House.]

[Illustration: Fig. 141. Nailing on the Clapboards.]

The sidewalls were first clapboarded, because we were afraid the roof
would not hold us until the framing had been strengthened by nailing on
the siding. Slab boards were used for this purpose. Beginning at the
bottom, the boards were laid on, each lapping over the one below, as
shown in Fig. 141, so as to shed water. In each side we cut a window
opening and nailed on a window casing of the type shown in Fig. 142,
which will be described in a moment. As soon as the clapboards were
applied, we nailed on the rafters and then applied the roofing. The same
principle was here used for shedding water. The lowest board was first
laid on, and then the others were successively applied, each lapping
over the one below.

[Illustration: Fig. 142. The Window Casing.]

[Illustration: Fig. 143. The Window Sash.]

The window casings we used each consisted of a frame about 15 inches
square, but with the upper and lower pieces extending 12 inches beyond
one of the side pieces. On these extended pieces a slideway was formed
for the window sash by nailing on two strips of wood about 3/4 inch
square and over them a pair of wider strips projecting inward, so as to
overlap the edges of the sash. The window sash consisted of a frame
13-1/2 inches square, made of 3/4-inch square strips over which canvas
was tightly stretched and tacked. A spool was nailed on at one side for
a handle. These windows were closed only in rainy weather, to keep the
water out.


SLIDING DOORS.

[Illustration: Fig. 144. Section of the Door and Frame.]

We had two doors; one at the back of the house, from which a ladder
extended down to the ground, and another opening out onto the veranda,
from which we dropped a ladder down to the Goblins' Dancing Platform. In
order to save space we used sliding instead of swinging doors. The back
door frame was 5-1/2 feet high and the front door frame 6 feet high. The
doors were mounted on the outside of the building. The side posts of
each frame were 2-1/2 feet apart, and the lintel and sill extended 3
feet beyond the side post at one side. The upper face of the lintel was
planed down perfectly smooth, and its edges were tapered off to make a
track for the rollers on the door. The rollers consisted of two spools,
which turned on tenpenny nails driven into the top of the door. At the
lower end two more spools were mounted, turning on nails driven in the
bottom edge of the door. The rims of the spools extended slightly beyond
the outer face of the door and rolled against the sill. To keep the
water from leaking in at the top a slanting board was fastened above it,
as shown in Fig. 144. The back door was similarly constructed. Our tree
house was completed by a running balustrade around the veranda.

It strangely happened that just after our tree house had been built we
received a photograph from Uncle Ed of a Filipino tree house made of
bamboo.

[Illustration: A Filipino Bamboo Tree House.]




CHAPTER XII.

TROUBLE WITH THE TRAMPS.


We were a proud lot when the house was finally completed. From the
veranda we had an excellent view up and down the river. We could see our
camp on the island and keep watch of our goods. Late one afternoon
Dutchy and I were lolling about on the Goblins' Platform, idly watching
a hawk soaring above us. The rest of the boys had returned to the island
in canoes an hour before and left the heavy scow for us to row back. It
was drawing near supper time and we had about decided to start for home,
when I chanced to see a scow up the river. It looked exactly like ours,
and in it were two men, evidently drunk, from the way they carried on. A
glance showed me that our scow was not at its moorings. How were we to
reach the camp? One of the men had evidently seen us and was pointing us
out to his companion. We rushed down the Jacob's Ladder, but by the time
we reached the river bank they were in midstream and heading rapidly
northward. Our shouts merely brought forth derisive laughter. We were
certainly in a predicament. First we ran back up the cliff, and tried
from there to gain the attention of the rest of the fellows. They
evidently saw us but couldn't make out what we wanted. Then we ran down
to a point opposite the island and called to them. But the wind was
against us and we couldn't make them hear, so we had to plunge in and
wade across.


A COUNCIL OF WAR.

Immediately we summoned a war council. Dutchy and Jack were chosen by
lot to guard the camp, while the rest of us started in pursuit in
canoes. By the time we got under way the sun had dropped back of the
Pennsylvania hills and the shadows were climbing slowly up the Jacob's
Ladder. Swiftly we paddled up-stream, keeping close to the western
shore, where the water was very quiet. We didn't expect to go far,
because there were rapids less than three miles up, and we were sure
that no tramps would ever be ambitious enough to row a heavy scow
against the swift current at that point. As we rounded a sharp bend in
the river, we noticed a camp fire a few hundred feet further up, around
which five or six men were lounging, and there, just below them, was our
scow. What were four boys to do against six grown men? We were each
armed with a club, and could have made a pretty good fight if necessary,
but after a whispered consultation we decided it would be best to wait
until dark, when we could creep up quietly and steal away unnoticed with
our boat.


VENGEANCE.

It seemed as if darkness never would come. It was scarcely dusk when our
patience gave out and we paddled up stealthily, hugging the shore. Bill
gained the scow unnoticed, but just as he was about to push off he
discerned the body of a man within. It was one of the tramps lying there
in a drunken stupor. What was to be done? Every moment was precious. A
yell from the fireside decided him. With a mighty push he launched the
boat out into the current, while we threw him a line and towed the boat
out to midstream. With a volley of curses the men sprang up and pelted
us with stones. But they were poor shots, and we escaped without serious
injury. Our prisoner, in the meantime, was snoring heavily in the scow
undisturbed. We took him down-stream and then unceremoniously picked him
up and dumped him overboard within a few feet of the shore. It was a
rude awakening, and nearly frightened the wits out of the man. But it
brought him to his senses, and in a moment we were dodging more stones,
sent with such good aim that we had to lie flat in the bottoms of the
boats until the current carried us out of reach.


A DOUBLE SURPRISE.

It was now quite dark, and we had some difficulty in groping our way
back to camp. There was no moon and the stars were obscured by clouds.
Our only course was to follow the shore line until we got around the
bend, and then we steered for the beacon fire, which, by prearrangement,
had been kindled on Point Lookout. But the spirit of mischief was in us.
We thought we would have some fun with Dutchy. We could see him
silhouetted against the blaze. Jim and I hung back in the canoes, while
Reddy and Bill went on with the scow, splashing their oars and shouting
and singing in disguised voices, like drunken men. Dutchy was evidently
very much agitated. His "Hello, there! Boat ahoy!" was greeted with
derisive yells.

[Illustration: Fig. 145. A Joke on Dutchy.]

"Say, we'll lick the life out of you, the same as we did them other
kids," shouted Reddy.

This was too much for Dutchy. He ran for all he was worth, yelling for
Jack to come quick.

We had a merry laugh over the situation when suddenly the tables were
turned. Something whizzed past Bill's ear; I was stung on the arm with a
heavy nail; a large stone hit the scow; Reddy had his hat knocked off,
and Fred upset his canoe trying to duck out of reach of the invisible
missiles before we could make our assailants understand that we were
friends and not the tramps. The joke was on us after all. We hadn't
counted on Dutchy's accurate aim or Jack's skill with the crossbow.


TRAMP-PROOF BOAT MOORING.

[Illustration: Fig. 146. A Tramp-proof Mooring.]

Around the camp fire that night we discussed our adventures and made
plans to prevent their recurrence. It was evident, for one thing, that
we would have to moor our boats off shore in such a way that they would
be out of reach of meddlesome persons, and yet could be drawn in toward
shore by any one who knew how. This was the way we did it. A pair of
galvanized iron ring bolts were procured on Jack's next trip to
Lamington for provisions, also a light rope about forty feet long. The
ring bolts were screwed into a pair of stout anchor stakes about two
feet from their lower ends. The rope was passed through the rings and
the ends were joined by tying them to a galvanized iron link. Then it
was soaked for a while to shrink it before it was set in place. After
the rope had shrunk sufficiently, the two stakes were driven into the
bed of the river, one close to the bank and the other far enough out to
hold the rope belt clear of the bottom. Both stakes were sawed off under
water, just above the ring bolts, so that they were hidden from sight.
When we wanted to moor our boats we secured their anchor ropes or
"painters" to the link. A large stepping stone marked the spot were the
inner stake was driven, and standing on this stone we were able to reach
down and haul in on the lower strap of the belt to draw the boat out a
safe distance from shore, and then when we wanted to use our boat again
we would haul in the upper strap to draw the boat in toward shore.




CHAPTER XIII.

WIGWAGGING AND HELIOGRAPHING.


Our tramp adventure was really quite a blessing to us, for it taught us
the necessity of a good signaling system between the Goblins' Platform
and the island and led to our learning how to wigwag, and later to the
construction of a heliograph. Uncle Ed, when he read of our experience,
sent us the U. S. Army "Manual of Signaling." Fred, the tailor of our
camp, made us two white flags with red centers. Each flag was two feet
square and was fastened to a light staff about five feet long. Then we
got out the manual and practised sending signals, at first within
shouting distance, until we got to be quite expert.


WIGWAG SIGNALS.

[Illustration: Fig. 147-150. Ready, First Movement, Second Movement,
Third Movement.]

There were only three different movements that could be made with flags,
but in the book different combinations of these movements were given to
represent each letter of the alphabet and the numbers from 1 to 0. All
these movements were begun and ended by holding the flagstaff upright,
directly in front of the body, as shown in Fig. 147. The first movement
was to swing the flag down to the right and back (Fig. 148), the second
to the left and back (Fig. 149), and the third forward and back (Fig.
150). The following table gives the different combinations used for
various letters:

The Wigwag Alphabet.

A     22        J   1122        S     212
B   2112        K   2121        T       2
C    121        L    221        U     112
D    222        M   1221        V    1222
E     12        N     11        W    1121
F   2221        O     21        X    2122
G   2211        P   1212        Y     111
H    122        Q   1211        Z    2222
I      1        R    211        tion 1112

Numerals.

1   1111        4   2221        8    2111
2   2222        5   1122        9    1221
3   1112        6   2211        0    2112
                7   1222


[Illustration: Fig. 151. The Signal for Letter "B."]

The numbers 1, 2 and 3 indicate respectively the first, second and third
movements. For instance, A was represented by the combination 22, which
means that the flag must be swept to the left and back twice. B is
represented by the combination 2112, that is, a sweep to the left, two
sweeps to the right and a final sweep to the left, as shown in Fig. 151.
The end of a word was represented by a sweep forward and back; the end
of a sentence by two sweeps forward and back, and the end of a message
by three sweeps forward and back. It will be noticed that the same
combinations are used for 2 and Z, 3 and _tion_, 4 and F, 5 and J,
6 and G, 7 and V, 9 and M, and 0 and B. The following abbreviations were
given in the Manual:

Abbreviations.

a   after       n   not         ur    your
b   before      r   are         w     word
c   can         t   the         wi    with
h   have        u   you         y     yes

These abbreviations saved a lot of time, for when we wanted to signal
the word _after_ instead of spelling it out--22-2221-2-12-211-3--we
used the signal for A--22--followed by 3 to signify that it was the end
of the word. Before was represented by 2112-3, _your_ by 111-211-3,
etc. It took quite a little practice to learn the different
combinations. Fred and Reddy soon became experts, and could flash the
signals back and forth at a great rate.


WIGWAGGING AT NIGHT.

[Illustration: Fig. 152. Wigwagging at Night.]

At night we used a torch in place of a flag. The torch consisted of a
roll of dried birch bark tied with wire to the end of a staff. It was
found necessary to place another torch on the ground directly in front
of the signaler so as to fix a central point and enable one to determine
whether the moving torch was swung to the left or right. A later
improvement was to use three lanterns, one in each hand and one attached
to the waist to fix the central position. It was quite an advantage to
have a lantern in each hand, for it saved changing over from one to the
other when a second movement followed a first or a first movement a
second.


THE HELIOGRAPH.

The book that Uncle Ed sent us had in it a description of a heliograph,
that is, an instrument for sending signals with flashes of sunlight.
Although our wigwagging system was good enough for our requirements, yet
we thought it would be more scientific to use the sun instrument, and
besides, the latter could be used for signaling many miles.


THE SINGLE MIRROR INSTRUMENT.

[Illustration: Fig. 153. Trunnion for Mirror.]

[Illustration: Fig. 154. The Single Mirror Instrument.]

The first thing we did was to procure a small mirror about 4 inches
square, mounted in a wooden frame. Then we got a pair of small square
head bolts about 1/4 of an inch in diameter and 1 inch long, also two
strips of brass 1/2 inch wide and 3 inches long. In the center of each
brass strip we drilled a hole just large enough to admit the shank of
one of the bolts, and then the strips were fastened with screws tight
against opposite edges of the mirror frame, with the heads pressed
against the frame and the shanks sticking out at each side, as shown in
Fig. 153. These projecting shanks served as "trunnions" (that is,
pivots) for the mirror to turn on when it was mounted in place. After
the trunnions had been set in place we made a peep hole in the center of
the mirror by cutting out a piece of the wooden back of the frame and
scratching away the silver from the back of the glass. Only a very small
hole was required, about 1/8 inch in diameter. Great care was taken to
have the unsilvered spot exactly on a line with the trunnions and just
half-way between them. This done, we took two sticks of 3/8-inch wood, 1
inch wide and 3-1/2 inches long. In the upper end of each stick a slot
was cut 1/2 inch deep and 1/4 inch wide. Into these slots the trunnions
of the mirror were placed, and then the nuts were screwed tightly on,
clamping the sticks against the sides of the mirror. The sticks were now
connected by nailing a 1/2-inch strip at the bottom, and braced by a
couple of corner pieces. This formed a swiveled frame for the mirror,
which was clamped to the base of the instrument by means of a bolt 1-1/2
inches long. The bolt passed through the bottom board of the frame,
squarely under the peep hole of the mirror and through the baseboard of
the instrument near one end. The baseboard was 2 inches wide, 10 inches
long and 3/4 inch thick.


THE SIGHT ROD.

[Illustration: Fig. 155. The Sight Rod.]

[Illustration: Fig. 156. Nut Set in Baseboard.]

At the end opposite to where the mirror frame was swiveled we mounted a
sight rod, which was merely a round stick of wood 1/2 inch in diameter
and about 8 inches long. We cut the stick from one of the rounds of an
old broken chair. The upper end of the rod was whittled to a point and
one side was flattened as shown in Fig. 155. Out of a piece of heavy
white cardboard we cut a round disk about 1/4 inch in diameter, with a
shank 1 inch long sticking out at one side. This was fastened with a
single tack to the flattened end of the rod in such a position that the
point lay exactly against the center of the disk. The disk could then be
turned up or down, to cover or uncover the point of the rod, as desired.
The rod was fitted snugly into a hole in the baseboard, and could be
raised or lowered to any extent desired, but we had to provide some sort
of an arrangement for making it stay where it was put. A small hole was
drilled from the edge of the baseboard through to the hole in which the
rod was fitted. A square socket was chiseled out around the small hole
to receive a nut. The nut was firmly wedged in and held in place by
driving in nails along the edges. A bolt or machine screw was threaded
through the nut, so that its inner end pressed against the sighting rod.
By tightening this screw the rod could be secured at any height desired.

The instrument was mounted on a tripod similar to the one used for our
surveying instrument. To this it was attached by means of a bolt, which
passed through the center of the baseboard and the tripod head.


THE SCREEN.

[Illustration: Fig. 157. Section through Shutter.]

[Illustration: Fig. 158. General View of Screen.]

The screen, or shutter, of the heliograph was mounted on a separate
tripod, so as to prevent shaking the mirror when it was operated. It was
made something like a window shutter. We cut out two slats, each 2-1/2
inches wide and 6 inches long. They were made of hardwood 3/8 inch
thick. The upper and lower edges were tapered down to a thickness of
3/16 inch. Light nails were driven into the slats at the ends, and the
nail heads were then filed off so that the projecting ends formed
trunnions for the slats to turn on. The slats were linked to a
connecting rod with double point tacks. A small double point tack was
driven into the upper edge of each slat about 1/2 inch from the right
hand end. Then through each of these tacks we hooked a second double
point tack and drove it into the rod. The tacks on the rod were placed
just 2 inches apart. A substantial frame was then made of 3/4-inch stuff
1-1/2 inches wide. The frame was square, with an opening that measured 6
inches each way, into which the slats were fitted. Before nailing the
frame together we drilled holes in the side pieces for the trunnions of
the slats to turn in. These holes were just 1-3/4 inches apart. After
the slats had been set in place, the frame was fastened together and
then nailed to a baseboard, which was fastened by a bolt to the tripod.
The shutter was operated by a key something like a telegraph key. It was
made of a narrow stick of wood hinged at one end to the lower strip of
the shutter frame, and a spool sawed in two was fastened to the other
end to serve as a handle for the key. A string connected the key with
the connecting rod. The slats were kept closed by a spring, which was
fastened at one end to the connecting rod and at the other to the top of
the frame. At first we used a rubber band for this purpose, but it soon
wore out, so we then made a spiral spring out of stiff spring brass wire
by wrapping it around a pencil. When the key was pressed down the slats
would be turned open, as shown in Fig. 159; but as soon as the key was
released the spring would pull them back again.


FOCUSING THE INSTRUMENT.

[Illustration: Fig. 159. The Heliograph in Operation.]

We were now ready to commence operations with our instruments. The
heliograph was set up on the ledge at the top of the cliff. First the
disk was turned down, uncovering the point of the sighting rod. Then
Bill sighted through the unsilvered spot in the mirror and shifted the
rod up and down until the tip end came squarely in line with the door of
our straw hut, where Jack was seated, notebook in hand, to take down our
message. Reddy stood by him with his wigwag flag to answer back. When
the instrument was properly sighted the shutter was set up directly in
front of it and the sighting disk turned up to cover the point of the
sighting rod. Then came the rather troublesome task of focusing the
mirror. The mirror reflected a square panel of light, in the center of
which there was a small shadow spot made by the unsilvered peep hole.
The object was to get this shadow to fall on the center of the sighting
disk. We knew that then the mirror would reflect the sunlight squarely
on the straw hut. We found it quite easy to direct this shadow spot to
the disk by holding a sheet of paper in front of the mirror six or eight
inches away, and following up the spot on the paper until it reached the
disk.


HELIOGRAPH SIGNALING.

[Illustration: Fig. 160. Top View, showing position of Mirror and
Shutter.]

When at last we succeeded in properly focusing the mirror Bill pressed
the key down three times, sending three quick flashes to Jack as a
signal that he was ready to begin. Reddy wigwagged back O. K., and then
the first heliographic message was sent from the ledge to the island. It
was a rather mixed-up message, and kept Jim and Reddy wigwagging back
and forth very strenuously to straighten matters out. It was my duty to
keep the mirror focused. As the sun moved across the sky the shadow spot
would move off the disk, and I had to keep shifting the mirror to bring
the spot back where it belonged. We used the International Telegraph
Code, which we had been studying every evening for a week, but it was
many weeks before we learned how to use it correctly, even slowly. The
International Telegraph Code is as follows:

A ·-  B -···  C -·-·  D -··
E ·  F ··-·  G --· H ····  I ··
J ·---  K -·-  L ·-··
M --  N -·  O ---
P ·--·  Q --·-  R ·-·
S ···  T -  U ··-  V ···-  W ·--
X -··-  Y -·--  Z --··
1 ·----  2 ··---
3 ···--  4 ····-  5 ·····
6 -····  7 --···  8 ---··
9 ----·  0 -----

The three short flashes Bill sent represented the letter S, which stood
for the word "signal." A was formed by a short flash followed by a long
flash; B by a long flash followed by three short ones, and so on. The
key was held down three times as long for the long flash as for the
short one. We found the best way of learning to send the signals
properly was to count 1 for each short flash, and for each pause between
parts of the letter, and 3 for each dash and for each pause between
letters. Between words we counted 6. Thus, for the letter A the key
would be down when we counted 1, up when we counted 2, down while we
counted 3, 4, 5, and up while we counted 6, 7, 8, for the pause after
each letter. It was rather a confusing code, I admit, but in time we
mastered it, all but Reddy and Fred, who never would learn, but instead
used the wigwag code, letting a short flash stand for 1, a long flash
for 2 and a double long flash for 3.


THE DOUBLE MIRROR INSTRUMENT.

[Illustration: Fig. 161. The Double Mirror Instrument.]

[Illustration: Fig. 162. Top View, showing position of the Two Mirrors
and the Screen.]

Our heliographing instrument did excellent service sending flashes from
the cliff to the island, but we couldn't make it work very well sending
messages from the island to the cliff, because we had to face almost due
north, and then the sun was nearly always at our backs and couldn't
shine squarely on the mirror. This led to our building a double mirrored
heliograph the following summer. To begin with, we built an instrument
which was the exact duplicate of our first heliograph; then, in
addition, to fit in the socket of the sighting rod, we rigged up a
second mirror, which was mounted in exactly the same way as the first.
The second mirror was called the station mirror, and differed from the
other, or sun mirror, in having a small patch of white paper pasted at
the center instead of a peep hole. When using this instrument, we set it
up so that the station mirror faced the ledge, then by sighting through
the hole in the sun mirror at the reflection in the station mirror we
could see just what was in focus. The station mirror had to be moved
until the patch at its center hid the ledge from view. After that the
sun mirror was shifted until the shadow spot fell on the white patch of
the station mirror. When once the station mirror was focused, it could
be clamped tightly in place by screwing up the trunnion and swivel nuts.
But the sun mirror had to be constantly shifted to keep the shadow on
the patch. Another way of focusing the mirrors was to stand behind the
instrument with the head close to the station mirror, shift the sun
mirror until the entire station mirror was reflected in it, with the
white patch squarely over the unsilvered spot; then still looking at the
sun mirror, the station mirror was shifted until the reflection of the
distant station was brought squarely in line with the unsilvered spot on
the mirror. The station mirror was now firmly bolted and the sun mirror
adjusted until the shadow spot fell on the paper patch.




CHAPTER XIV.

ICE BOATS, SLEDGES AND TOBOGGANS.


As our vacation was drawing to a close, we began to make plans for the
Christmas holidays. Our previous Christmas vacation had been so
completely taken up with preparations for the trip to Willow Clump
Island that we had had no time for the trip itself. We resolved this
time to have everything ready beforehand, so that we could spend the
entire two weeks in solid pleasure. Our skate sails and snow shoes were
stored in the attic, ready for use. If we were to make a trip in the
snow we would need a sledge, and then, too, we wanted to make an ice
boat. It would hardly pay to build these on the island and then cart
them home, so it was decided to break up camp a couple of weeks before
school commenced.


BREAKING CAMP.

Consequently, on the first day of September we gathered up our
belongings, corraled our chickens, packed our goods, and the next day
started for home. Mr. Schreiner, in response to a letter from the
secretary, came down with a large wagon in which the majority of the
things were packed. The rest of our luggage was stowed in the scow and
the canoes, and these were towed down the canal, as before. We reached
home late in the afternoon, tired and hungry. It was a treat to sit at
the table again and eat some of Mother's appetizing dishes. And say,
wasn't that pie great, though! My, how ravenous we were! And then a
soft, comfortable bed with spotless white sheets and pillow cases. How
soundly we did sleep that night! You can just bet we were all glad
enough to get back to civilization, though, of course, no one could have
dragged out the confession from a single one of us.


THE ICE BOAT.

[Illustration: Fig. 163. The Backbone.]

[Illustration: Fig. 164. Frame of the Ice Boat.]

[Illustration: Fig. 165. Runner Shoe.]

[Illustration: Fig. 166. The Rudder Shoe.]

School commenced on the 20th of September that year, so we hadn't much
time to spare. Work was begun immediately on the ice boat. Our first ice
boat was rather a crude one. A 2 by 4 inch scantling 14 feet long was
used for the backbone of the boat. The scantling was placed on edge, and
to lighten it and improve its appearance it was tapered fore and aft
from a point 4 feet from the bow end. The thickness of the ends of the
backbone was but 2 inches, as shown in Fig. 163. To the under edge of
the backbone, 5 feet from the forward end, a crosspiece was nailed. This
crosspiece was a 1-inch board 6 inches wide and 9 feet long. Braces were
then run from the ends of the crosspiece to the forward and rear ends of
the backbone, and at the rear end several boards nailed across the
braces served as a seat for the boat.

Our next task was to rig up the runners. For these we used skates, which
were so arranged that we could remove them whenever we wanted to. Three
blocks of wood were used for the runner shoes. Two of them were cut from
a 2 by 4 scantling and measured a foot in length. The third block was
only 1 inch thick, but was otherwise of the same dimensions. The skates
were laid face downward on the blocks with the clamping levers open;
then we marked the places where the clamping jaws touched the wood and
drilled holes at these points. The forward end of each block was also
tapered off to fit flat against the face of the skate. Then by inserting
the jaws in the holes and closing the levers, the skate was clamped to
the block, just as it would be to a shoe. The two 2-inch blocks were
bolted to the ends of the crosspiece, but the third block needed further
attention, as it was to be used for the rudder or steering runner.

[Illustration: Fig. 167. The Tiller.]

[Illustration: Fig. 168. Drilling the Mast Step.]

The rudder post was shaped from a block of hardwood 3 inches square and
10 inches long. Two inches from the lower end saw cuts were made in the
side of the block to a depth of 3/4 inch. Then with a chisel the sides
were split off, forming a large pin with a square shank 8 inches long.
Next the corners of the shank were cut off, rounding it to a diameter of
1-1/2 inches. The runner block was fastened securely to the head of the
rudder post with screws. A 1-1/2-inch hole was now drilled into the
backbone at the stern end to receive the rudder post. A tiller was next
cut out of a 1-inch board to the shape shown in Fig. 167. A slot was cut
in the end of the tiller, and the latter fitted snugly over the top of
the post, where it was held in place by screws threaded in through the
sides.

[Illustration: Fig. 169. The Mainsail.]

The mast of our boat was a pole 8 feet long, tapering from a diameter 2
inches at the base to 1-1/2 inches at the top. A step for the mast was
cut from a 2 by 4 block 8 inches long. A 2-inch hole was drilled into
the face of this block. We had no drill large enough to bore this hole,
but accomplished the same result by drilling eight 1/2-inch holes inside
of a 2-inch circle (Fig. 168), and then used a chisel to cut off the
projecting pieces. The mast step was firmly bolted to the backbone at
its thickest part, that is, just four feet from the forward end. The
mast was braced with stay ropes stretched from the top to the forward
end of the backbone and to the ends of the crosspiece. A 9-foot pole,
tapering from 1-1/2 inches to 1 inch in diameter, was used for the boom
of the mainsail, and for the gaff we used a 6-foot pole of the same
diameter.

[Illustration: Fig. 170. Jaws of the Boom.]

[Illustration: Fig. 171. A Cleat.]

The dimensions of the mainsail are given in Fig. 169. For mast hoops we
used curtain rings. Five were attached to the sail along the luff, and
one was fastened with a piece of leather to the end of the gaff. We used
a different scheme for holding the boom to the mast. The forward end of
the boom was flattened at the sides and a couple of cheek blocks were
bolted on, forming jaws of the shape indicated in Fig. 170. The jaws
were whittled out to fit nicely around the mast, and were kept from
slipping off by a piece of rope passed around the mast and threaded
through the ends of the cheek blocks. Half a dozen small pulley blocks
were now procured, of the type used on awnings. A rope called the throat
halyard was strung from the throat or forward end of the gaff through a
pulley block near the top of the mast, and led down to the backbone,
where it was "belayed," or wrapped around a cleat. The cleat, which was
whittled out of a stick of wood, was made in the form indicated in Fig.
171. A short length of rope was strung through a pulley block and tied
with some slack to the upper end and to the center of the gaff. This
rope is called a "bridle," and to the pulley block on this "bridle" a
rope was attached called the "peak halyard." The peak halyard was passed
through a pulley block at the top of the mast, and belayed on a cleat at
the side of the backbone. For the main sheet (that is, the rope used for
guiding the mainsail) two pulley blocks were fastened to the backbone,
one just in front of the seat and the other a few feet further forward,
and two more were lashed to the boom, midway between these blocks. The
sheet was fastened near the aft end of the backbone and then strung
through the blocks in the order illustrated, the free end of the sheet
being brought back to the seat, where a cleat was provided, to which it
could be secured when desired.

[Illustration: Fig. 172. The Jib-sail.]

[Illustration: Fig. 173. The Ice Boat Completed.]

The jib-sail was now cut out to the dimensions given in Fig. 172. The
foot of the sail was lashed to a jib-boom 3 feet 4 inches long. The
jib-boom was attached to the backbone at its fore end by means of a
couple of screw eyes. The eye of one of these was pried open, linked
through the other and then closed again. One of the screw eyes was now
screwed into the head of the jib-boom and the other was threaded into
the end of the backbone. The upper corner or "head" of the jib was tied
to a jib-halyard, which passed through a block at the top of the mast,
and was secured on a cleat on the backbone. On the jib we used two
sheets. They were attached to the end of the jib-boom and passed on
opposite sides of the mast through blocks on the crosspiece to the stern
of the boat, where separate cleats were provided for them.

This completed our ice boat, and a very pretty little boat she was. It
was with great reluctance that we furled the sails, unstepped the mast,
and stowed away the parts in our attic until old Jack Frost should wake
up and furnish us with a field of smooth ice.


THE SLEDGE.

[Illustration: Fig. 174. A Spacing Block.]

[Illustration: Fig. 175. The Runners and Rails Spaced Apart.]

Our sledge was patterned after a picture of one used by Peary in one of
his Arctic expeditions. First we got four strips of hickory 1 inch
thick, 1-1/2 inches wide and 8 feet long for the runners and side rails.
Beginning 18 inches from the ends, each stick was tapered gradually to a
thickness of 1/2 an inch. Then we made eight spreaders or spacing
blocks, each 1-1/2 inches thick, 2-1/2 inches wide and 11 inches long.
In each end a notch 1/2 inch deep was cut to receive the runners and
side rails. In the edge of each block, midway of its length, a slot 1
inch deep was cut to receive the cross sticks of the sledge. First we
nailed the runners and rails to the blocks, fastening them with screws,
spacing the blocks 16 inches from the ends, and 20 inches apart from
center to center. Then we bent the ends of the rails and runners
together, fastening them with bolts, as in Fig. 175. Four crosspieces,
or floor beams, were cut out of a 1-inch board, each 2 inches wide and
30 inches long. These were fitted into the slots in the space blocks and
secured with screws. A cross stick was also fastened between the rails
and runners at the forward end. On the floor beams we nailed a flooring
of 1/2-inch slats, 2 inches wide and 6 feet long. At the rear end these
slats projected 8 inches beyond the last space block and over them a
cross slat was nailed. A stick of hickory 4-1/2 feet long was soaked in
hot water, as described on page 39, and was bent to an U-shape. The ends
were then fitted over the first cross stick, and under the first floor
supports, and securely nailed in place. Another stick of hickory 6 feet
long was similarly bent, and the ends slipped over the rear cross slats
and fitted against the rear space blocks, in which position the stick
was securely nailed.

[Illustration: Fig. 176. The Sledge.]

It was our intention to shoe the runners with strips of brass, but these
were not procurable in our village, and we had no time to go down to
Millville. However, the village blacksmith came to our rescue and shod
our sledge with sleigh runner iron.

We had planned to make two more devices for our winter sports--a
toboggan and a peculiar looking contrivance called a "rennwolf," a
picture of which Dutchy happened to unearth in one of his father's
books. Unfortunately Bill and I had to return to school before either of
these was completed. However, the work was entrusted to Reddy, who was
quite handy with tools, and Jack, who was made secretary _pro
tempore_, took notes on the work.


THE TOBOGGAN.

[Illustration: Fig. 177. Tying Down the Head Piece of the Toboggan.]

The toboggan was made of light flexible hickory boards, 1/4 of an inch
thick, 6 inches wide and 8 feet long. Three of these boards were used,
and they were fastened together with cross sticks or battens, about 3
inches wide and 1/2 an inch thick. There were six of these battens
spaced about 15 inches apart, and secured to the floor boards with
flathead screws introduced from the under side and countersunk so that
the heads would not project below the bottom of the toboggan. At the
forward end we screwed on a head piece of oak, 3/4 of an inch thick,
1-1/2 inches wide and 20 inches long. The head piece was fastened to the
under side of the boards, so that when they were curved up into a hood
it would lie on top. The ends of the head piece, which projected 1 inch
each side of the boards, were notched to hold the rope, which was tied
fast after the boards had been steamed. The boards were steamed by
wrapping them in burlap for a distance of 2 feet from the forward end,
and pouring boiling water over them, as was done with the snow shoes
(page 39). Before bending the boards we had fixed screw eyes in the ends
of each batten, except the forward one; a rope had been strung through
these screw eyes and the ends were now tied to the head piece and drawn
tight so as to bend the boards into a graceful curve. In this way the
ropes were of service not only for curving the front end into a hood,
but also for side rails, to hold on by when shooting swiftly around
curves.

[Illustration: Fig. 178. The Toboggan.]


THE RENNWOLF.

The runners of the rennwolf were made of hickory strips, 1 inch thick, 2
inches wide and 8 feet long. At their forward ends these strips were
tapered down to a thickness of 1/2 an inch and curved upward. About 30
inches from the rear end of each runner an upright post was nailed. The
post was 3 feet long and was braced by a diagonal brace 24 inches long,
as shown in Fig. 179. A tie bar was nailed to the post about 6 or 8
inches from the bottom and connected with the forward curved end of the
runner.

[Illustration: Fig. 179. Dimensions of Rennwolf.]

The two runners were now placed parallel to each other about 18 inches
apart, and connected by four cross bars, one at the forward end, and
three on the upright posts, in about the positions illustrated. The
upper cross bar was extended 6 inches beyond the posts at each side, and
served as a handle for guiding the queer craft. An 18-inch square board
was used for the seat of the rennwolf. It rested on the second cross-bar
of the post about 12 inches from the runners, and the forward end was
supported on legs nailed to the tie bars. On each runner back of the
posts a loop of leather was nailed, large enough to receive the toe of
one shoe.

When using this odd sled one foot would rest on the runner with the toe
in the strap, and by kicking out against the snow or ice with the other
foot the rennwolf would be made to spin along at a rapid rate. Of
course, when coasting both feet would rest on the runners and the sled
was steered by an occasional side push at the right or left. Owing to
the great length of the runners the rennwolf would easily ride over
uneven surfaces and thin spots in the ice.

[Illustration: Fig. 180. The Rennwolf in Use.]


ICE CREEPERS.

[Illustration: Fig. 181. The Ice Creeper.]

In order to provide a better hold for the propelling foot, we fastened
around the toe a strap of leather, through which a number of long tacks
projected. Their sharp points would stick into the ice, and prevent the
foot from slipping. The seat of the rennwolf was convenient for carrying
a coat or any light luggage, and it was often used to give a friend a
very exhilarating ride.




CHAPTER XV.

THE SUBTERRANEAN CLUB.


I am afraid we were not very glad to get back to school that fall. It
seemed very hard to give up the sport we had been having, and our heads
were brimful of new schemes which we could hardly wait to put into
practice. But we soon learned that there are many things that could be
done during recreation hours at school. We had intended building a cave
on our island that summer, but our vacation came to an end before we got
around to it. There seemed no reason why we shouldn't dig one in the
woods at the back of the schoolhouse.


A CAVE-IN.

Bill had read somewhere that if you dig a cave under a tree the roots of
the tree will support the ground on top and make a natural and
substantial roof. It sounded very reasonable, we thought; in fact, we
never questioned the truth of the statement, because we had somehow
gotten the notion that books were never wrong, and that whatever was set
up in type must surely be so. But events proved that the man who wrote
that book had never attempted to build a cave in the manner he
described, at least not in the loose, sandy soil of south Jersey. A
large spreading cedar was selected as the tree which should support the
roof of our cave. It was situated on a mound at the edge of the woods.
First a passageway, or ditch, was dug at the bottom, and then we begun
tunneling in the side of the mound under the roots of the tree. For a
while the ground above held, and our tunnel had reached a length of
about four feet, when suddenly, without the slightest warning, the sandy
soil gave way and we were engulfed. Bill, who was furthest within the
cave, was almost entirely covered, while I was buried to the shoulders.
A crowd of boys came to our assistance and dug us out. Poor Bill was
almost smothered before they scooped the sand away from around his mouth
and nose. The boys made slow work of it, having to dig with their hands
and a couple of shingles, because the two spades we had were buried with
us at the bottom of the cave.

Of course, this little episode gave us a scare, but it was only
temporary. We swore every one to secrecy, so that Mr. Clark, the
principal, wouldn't hear of the mishap and suppress any further cave
building. It was obvious that the only roof we could depend on for our
cave would be a wooden roof. If we had been at Willow Clump Island we
would have gotten any amount of slabs from the lumber mills across the
river.

One of our schoolmates, a day scholar, came to the rescue. His name was
Chester Hill, a little bit of a chap, about the shortest for his age
that I have ever seen. His name was so at variance to his size that we
called him "Hillock," for short. Now Hillock lived on a farm about eight
miles from school, and used to drive in every day on a farm wagon. He
had helped us dig the cave under the cedar tree, and when he learned
that we would need some lumber to build a safe cave, he told us that he
had an uncle who owned a lumber mill on the Morris River, from whom he
was sure we could get all the slabs we wanted. Of course, we were
delighted, and laid our plans for an elaborate cave house. Hillock
promised to be on hand on the following Saturday afternoon with his load
of lumber.


EXCAVATING FOR THE CAVE.

We immediately set out to make the necessary excavation. The side of a
bushy knoll was chosen as a suitable site. First we carefully
transplanted the bushes that grew in the square we had marked out for
the cave, and cutting the sod into squares, piled it all neatly to one
side. Then we shoveled away the top-soil and heaped it up for future
use. After that we dug away the sandy subsoil. The cave proper we
planned to make about 8 feet by 10 feet, with a passageway 2 feet wide
and 6 feet long, leading in from a large bush at the base of the knoll.
Our excavation was therefore somewhat T-shaped (see Fig. 182). At the
deepest part we had to dig down about 10 feet.

[Illustration: Fig. 182. Excavation for the Cave.]

[Illustration: Fig. 183. Framework of the Cave.]

The digging was all done by Saturday, when Hillock pulled up with a big
load of slabs. Slabs are a very unsatisfactory kind of wood for most
purposes. Being the outside cut, they are usually very irregular and
weak in spots. In many places they are almost clear bark. Of course, had
our pocketbooks permitted, we would have used stout scantlings for the
corner posts of our cave house and substantial boards for the walls,
roof and flooring, but we had to be content with materials at hand.
Eight of the best slabs were selected for our corner posts; four of them
we cut to the length of 8 feet and the others to a length of 6 feet. The
long slabs were set up at the rear of the cave, two at each corner, one
flat against the rear wall, with its edge buried in the corner, and the
other against the side wall, with its edge tight against the rear slab,
as in Fig. 183. The same was done at the forward corners with the
shorter slabs. A couple of slabs were now set up on each side of the
passageway, and a corresponding pair against the rear wall. The upper
and lower ends of the uprights were then connected with slabs, called
stringpieces.

[Illustration: Fig. 184. The Siding and Flooring.]

The sides were now boarded up with upright slabs nailed to the
stringpieces. An opening 3 feet 6 inches high was left in the forward
wall for a passageway. Several slabs were now placed on the edge across
the bottom of the cave, to serve as floor beams, upon which a flooring
of slabs was laid. Next the rafters were set in place, one on each
upright slab. Slots were cut in the ends of the uprights to receive the
rafters, which were slabs placed on edge. As the forward uprights were 2
feet shorter than the rear ones, the rafters were given a good slant, so
that the roof would properly shed any water that might soak in through
the ground above.

[Illustration: Fig. 185. Notching in the Rafters.]

The roof was laid on the same way that we had made the roof of our tree
house; that is, a slab was first nailed at the forward end of the
rafters with its edge projecting far enough to make a good eave; then
the second slab was nailed on, with its edge overlapping the first, and
a third with its edge overlapping the second, and so on with the rest.
At the rear end of the roof a hole was cut, into which we fitted a piece
of stovepipe. We didn't plan to have a fire in the house, but set the
stovepipe in place to provide the necessary ventilation. As the pipe had
an elbow in it, there was no danger of rain or dirt falling through it.
The upper end of the stovepipe was concealed among some rocks at the top
of the knoll.

A suitable flooring was now laid in the passageway, and the sides were
boarded up to a height of 2 feet from the floor at the entrance to a
height of 3 feet 6 inches at the inner end. A roof of slabs was nailed
on, and then we were ready to cover our slab house with dirt.


COVERING THE CAVE.

We avoided piling on the dirt very deep, because there was danger of
breaking in the roof with a heavy load. A thin layer of sand covered
with the top-soil brought up the level to about that of the rest of the
knoll. Then the sod was laid back in place and well watered, and the few
bushes planted back in their original positions. Our sodding should have
been done in the spring for best results. The frost soon killed the
grass, and the bushes withered away. But a few cents' worth of grass
seed was sowed in, and in time gave the knoll a very natural appearance.
A bush at the bottom concealed the entrance of the cave, so that no one
who was not in the secret would have suspected that beneath that
innocent looking knoll were gathered the members of the "Big Bug Club."


THE BIG BUG CLUB.

[Illustration: Fig. 186. A Section through the Completed Cave.]

Of course, we had to organize a secret society, to occupy our
subterranean dwelling. In that I fear we overstepped the rules of the
school. Of course, Mr. Clark knew of our cave, in fact he visited us
there once, lowering his dignity sufficiently to squeeze into the narrow
passageway, and playing Bill a game of chess at our club table. He
seemed quite pleased with our work, and complimented us very highly on
the masterful way in which we had built the underground house. We told
him that we had organized a club of the older fellows to play indoor
games and have occasional spreads, but we did not tell him that most of
our spreads were held at the dead of night, when there was no moon and
the stars were hidden by clouds. At 10 o'clock each night the bell rang
for us to turn out our lights, and after that the six members would
each, in turn, keep a half-hour watch, that is, first one would sit up
and try to keep awake for half an hour, after which he would waken the
next fellow, who at the end of a half hour would rouse the third, and so
on, until 1 o'clock, when the sixth watcher would wake up the entire
club. Then we would all creep out the back window in the hall, onto the
roof of the rear annex of the schoolhouse, and thence climb down a rope
ladder to the ground.


MIDNIGHT BANQUETS.

I suppose we could have just as easily have tiptoed downstairs and out
the back door, but it would have spoiled the romance of it all. The
absolute stillness and the pitch-black darkness of the night were
awe-inspiring. The roll of a pebble or the crack of a twig under foot
would set us all atingle as we stole out to our cave house. Sometimes
the night was so black that we could hardly find the entrance of the
cave. Once inside, in the light of a few candles, the nervous tension
was relieved, and we reveled in a banquet of cold victuals and dainties,
purchased out of the monthly club dues. Our meetings in the cave lasted
scarcely half an hour. In fact, the meeting, and even the banquet, were
mere incidentals. The main enjoyment consisted in stealing out to the
cave and back again, always at the risk of getting caught. Usually when
we got to bed again we would be too excited to fall asleep right away,
and when we did finally drop off our sleep was so sound that several
times the breakfast bell caught one or more of us still napping.


THE CLUB PIN.

[Illustration: Fig. 187. The Club Pin.]

The only other charm our secret club afforded was the wearing of a
mysterious club pin. It was a silver beetle, with the letter G engraved
on the head and the letter B on the body, while down the center of the
back was the letter I (see Fig. 187). In public we called ourselves the
G. I. B.'s, but it was only the initiated members who knew that these
letters were to be read backward, and, with the beetle on which they
were engraved, signified the "Big Bugs." Of course, we had some secret
signs and signals, a secret hand grasp, a peculiar whistle as a warning
to run, another meaning "lie still," and a third signifying "all is
well."


THE COMBINATION LOCK.

[Illustration: Fig. 188 The Notched Washers.]

[Illustration: Fig. 189. Washers Fastened on Spools.]

[Illustration: Fig. 190. The Combination Lock.]

We found it necessary to close the entrance of our cave with a door
fastened with a padlock, so as to keep meddlers out. The entire school
had watched us build the cave house, and, of course, knew just where our
entrance lay. Then, in addition to the outer door, we put in another
one, half-way down the dark passageway. On this Bill rigged up a simple
combination lock which would baffle any one who managed to pick the
padlock. This inner door opened outward. It was hinged to the floor of
the passageway, and swung up against a frame set in the passageway. At
the top was a board whose lower edge lay flush with the edge of the door
when it was closed. For the combination lock we used a couple of spools,
each with one head cut off and the central hole plugged up with a stick
of wood. In the floor and the top board of the frame, holes were drilled
just large enough for the shanks of the spools to fit snugly in them.
Next we made a trip to a hardware store for a file and a couple of large
copper washers, about 1-1/4 inches in diameter. The washers were
fastened to the inner ends of the spools after they had been pushed
through the hole. The washer on the door came just to the edge of the
door, while the other extended below the door frame and lapped under the
door washer. Then in the edge of the washer on the frame a notch was
filed, while in the other washer two notches were filed, so as to leave
a tooth which fitted snugly into the notch of the first washer (see
Figs. 188, 189). The door was locked by turning both the washers until
the notch and tooth came in line with each other, then pushing the tooth
through the notch, and turning the washers so that the frame washer
hooked over the door washer. Then the door could be opened only when the
tooth and notch were brought in line.

On the head of each spool we pasted a disk of white cardboard, the edge
of which was graduated, as in Fig. 190. Then we had a secret
combination, say 11-19, which meant that when the spools were turned so
that the number 11 on the door spool came in line with the number 19 on
the frame spool the tooth and notch would be in line, and the door could
then be opened. Of course, this combination was known to the members of
the club only, and any one outside who tried to open the door might have
tried for some time without bringing the tooth and notch into line with
each other. Occasionally we changed the combination by loosening the
screws which held the washers, and turning them so that the notch and
tooth came opposite different numbers on the dials. This was done so
that if any one should chance to learn our combination he could not make
use of it very long.




CHAPTER XVI.

SCOOTERS.


"Hello, Dutchy! What in thunder have you got there?"

It was Bill who spoke. We were on our way home for the winter holidays,
and had been held up at Millville by Reddy Schreiner, who had informed
us that Dutchy was down by the river with the boat to give us a sail up
to Lamington.

A vision of a fleet ice boat skimming up the river at express train
speed swam before our eyes. But the next moment, as we turned the corner
into River Street, we were surprised by the sight of our old scow just
off the pier at anchor, and in open water. It was rigged up with a jib
and mainsail, which were flapping idly in the wind. It had also been
altered by decking over the top, with the exception of a small cockpit,
evidently for the purpose of keeping out the water when she heeled over
under the wind. We were disappointed and quite annoyed at not finding
the ice boat on hand; furthermore, our annoyance was considerably
heightened by Dutchy's broad grin of evident delight at our
discomfiture. "The river wasn't all frozen over," he explained, "and we
couldn't bring the ice boat down, so we rigged up the scow and she came
down splendidly."


A SAIL IN THE SCOW.

There was nothing to do but to jump in, though I, for one, would have
taken the train in preference had there been one inside of two hours.
Dutchy, however, seemed to be in a surprisingly good humor, and kept up
a lively chatter about things that the club had made in our absence. The
skis, which have already been described on page 42, had been built under
Reddy's guidance, and they had already used them on Willard's Hill,
coasting down like a streak and shooting way up into the air off a hump
at the bottom. Then there was the toboggan slide down Randall's Hill,
and way across the river on the ice.


OUR CRAFT STRIKES THE ICE.

Dutchy talked so incessantly that we hadn't noticed the field of ice
which we were nearing. Just at this point Bill turned around with an
exclamation.

"Here, Dutchy, you crazy fellow, where are you going to? Hard to port,
man--hard aport--or you will crash into the ice!"

But Dutchy only grinned nervously.

"I tell you, you will smash the boat!" Bill cried again, making a dive
for the steering oar; but just then the boat struck the ice, and both
Bill and I were thrown backward into the bottom of the boat. But the
boat didn't smash.

[Illustration: A Sail on the Scooter Scow.]

There was a momentary grinding and crunching noise, and, much to my
surprise, I found that the old scow had lifted itself clean out of the
water, and was skating right along on the ice. Then Dutchy could control
himself no longer. He laughed, and laughed, as if he never would stop.
He laughed until the steering oar dropped from his hands, and the old
scow, with the head free, swung around and plunged off the ice ledge
with a heavy splash into the open water again. Then Reddy, who was
almost equally convulsed, came to his senses. "Now you've done it,
Dutchy; you're a fine skipper, you are! How do you expect to get us back
to shore again?" The steering oar was left behind us on the ice, and
there we were drifting on the open water, with no rudder and no oar to
bring us back.


THE SCOOTER SCOW.

[Illustration: Fig. 191. Scow with Runners nailed on.]

The only thing we could do was to wait until the wind or current carried
us to the ice or land. In the meantime Dutchy, who had suddenly sobered
down when we took our water plunge, explained how he had rigged up the
scow to travel both on ice and on water. He called the rig a sled boat,
but the name by which such a rig is now known is a "scooter." It was
Dutchy's idea primarily, but Reddy had engineered the work. Along the
bottom of the scow two strips of hickory had been nailed to serve as
runners. The hickory strips had been bent up at the forward end, as
shown in Fig. 191. Each runner was shod with a strip of brass, fastened
on with flathead screws, which were countersunk, so that the heads
should not project below the brass. This virtually made a sledge out of
the old scow, and didn't spoil it for use on the water.


A SPRIT SAIL.

[Illustration: Fig. 192. Mainsail of Scooter Scow.]

[Illustration: Fig. 193. The Snotter.]

[Illustration: Fig. 194. Jib-sail of Scooter Scow.]

A sprit sail and jib were rigged up. The dimensions of these sails,
which were taken from a book in Mr. Van Syckel's library, are given in
the illustrations. A sheet of heavy muslin was made to measure 7 feet
square, as indicated by dotted lines in the drawing; then the corners
were cut off along the full lines shown in the illustration. The edges
were now hemmed all around, and the lower edge of the sail was lashed to
a boom, 7 feet 6 inches long. To the luff were attached a number of mast
rings, which were slipped over a stout mast projecting about 5 feet 6
inches above the deck of the boat. The peak of the sail was held up by a
spar called a sprit. The sprit was sharpened at each end, and the point
at the upper end was inserted in a loop of heavy cord fastened to the
peak of the sail, while the lower point of the sprit rested in the loop
of a rope on the mast, called a "snotter." The snotter was a short piece
of rope with a loop at each end. It was wrapped around the mast, as
shown in the drawing, with one loop holding it in place, like a slip
knot, and the other supporting the end of the sprit. A single halyard
was used to raise this sail. It was attached to the boat and passed over
a block in the mast. When raising the sail it was first partly hoisted,
then the sprit was hooked in the loop and the snotter, after which the
throat halyard was drawn taut. Then the snotter was pulled up the mast
as far as it would go, flattening out the sail. The jib-sail was made
out of the large corner piece left when cutting the mainsail. The
dimensions of the jib-sail are given in Fig. 194. It was such a small
sail that no boom was used with it. In place of a rudder the steering
oar had to be used. This was made of a rake handle with a large trowel
blade fastened to the end of it. The sharp blade cut into the ice, and
so steered the scow when it was running as an ice boat, and in the water
the blade offered sufficient resistance to act as a rudder.


SCOOTER SAILING.

But to return to our sail home to Lamington, we were not out on the open
water long before the current carried us back to the ice ledge. Reddy
jumped off and soon returned with the steering oar; then we proceeded on
our way homeward, now in the water and now on ice. Once or twice the
scow was unable to climb out of the water, because she had not
sufficient headway, and was clumsy and heavy with four boys aboard. Then
we had to push off until we could get a sufficient start. It struck me
that while Dutchy was quite clever to think of such a rig, yet it was
very clumsy and capable of much improvement. Bill wasn't saying very
much all this time, and I could see he was doing a lot of thinking.
Evidently he was planning some improvement, but Bill was a very
considerate fellow, and did not want to spoil Dutchy's pleasure just
then by telling him how much better a scooter he might have built. It
wasn't until after supper, when a meeting of the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C.
I. was called, that Bill came out with his scheme.


A MEETING OF THE SOCIETY.

"Why not mount the sailing canoe on runners, instead of the scow? You
would have a very light rig then, and it would sail like a streak."

"Mr. President," said Reddy, "your plan sounds first-rate, but how are
you going to fasten runners onto the canoe?"

"I've thought all that out," replied Bill. "If we can only get hold of a
pair of sleigh runners it won't take long to rig up the sled boat."

Dutchy, who had looked rather crestfallen at a suggestion of an
improvement on his pet invention, now suddenly brightened up.

"I know where we can get the sleigh runners!" he exclaimed. "Dad has an
old ramshackle sleigh in the barn that is just falling to pieces with
dry rot. I'll ask him for it to-night."

"Do you think you can get it?" inquired Bill.

"I guess so," Dutchy answered, rather doubtfully. "But say, suppose we
send a delegation to see him about it?"


AN INTERVIEW WITH MR. VAN SYCKEL.

This was agreed upon, and in the morning, as soon as breakfast had been
downed, the entire society marched in a body into Mr. Van Syckel's
library. I was appointed spokesman, with Bill to back me, while the rest
of the party were strung out behind, with Dutchy bringing up the rear.
Mr. Van Syckel was not the man to take much interest in boys' work, but
we happened to strike him at the right moment, and before our interview
was over we had told him all our experiences of the summer before and
all our plans for the future. Then we did a good turn for Dutchy, too.
Mr. Van Syckel had always considered his boy a "know-nothing," and was
very much surprised to find that he had invented the scooter scow. Why,
he actually seemed proud of his son, much to Dutchy's embarrassment.
After that there was no trouble about getting the sleigh runners, and
Mr. Van Syckel forgot the objections he had offered at first.


THE SCOOTER CANOE.

[Illustration: Fig. 195. Runners of Scooter Canoe.]

Naturally we were very much elated at our success, and straightway made
for the barn, where we began operations on the scooter canoe. The sleigh
was an old-fashioned affair, with rather broad wooden runners. First we
removed the body of the sleigh, and then the runners were cut down to a
height of about 15 inches. We spaced them apart about 28 inches, and
connected them with four crosspieces at the top. The runners were now
placed over our larger canoe, with forward ends about on a line with the
mast, and the crosspieces were fastened with screws to the gunwales. As
an additional security, a pair of crosspieces were now run under the
canoe at each end and fastened with screws to the keel. At the bow the
keel was shod with a strip of brass. The rudder was taken off the boat,
and an oar lock was fastened to the stern to hold the steering oar. In
place of lee boards we nailed a couple of thin boards over each runner,
as shown in the drawing. We were in a hurry to finish this, as our
vacation was short, so we used on the scooter canoe the sails that we
had made for our ice boat. This required a bowsprit, but as we had
little time to spare we used the jib-boom of the ice boat, nailing it to
the deck beam of the canoe. We decided that the jib-sail could be used
without a boom, as we had done with the scow. The mast was braced by
stays attached to the ends of the runners and bowsprit. This spread of
canvas was far greater than that originally provided for sailing the
canoe, but the heavy runners on each side helped to keep the boat on
even keel, and then to further balance the sail a board was nailed
across the aft end of the boat. This overhung the runners about 18
inches each side, and in a strong wind we could sit out on the windward
end of this board, thus preventing the scooter from heeling over too
far.

[Illustration: Fig. 196. The Scooter Canoe.]




CHAPTER XVII.

AN ARCTIC EXPEDITION.


As soon as our scooter canoe was completed we prepared for the
long-planned winter expedition to Willow Clump Island. The weather
conditions were ideal. We had had ten days of steady cold weather, which
had followed a heavy fall of snow, so that we could tramp up the island
on snow shoes, or we could use our scooter canoe and scooter scow on the
river. It was out of the question to use our skate sails or the ice boat
on the river, and the canal would be serviceable only in case the wind
should blow from a southerly quarter. But we stowed them on the sledge
for use on Lake Placid.

On the Tuesday morning following Christmas we made the start. Bill in
the scooter canoe and Dutchy in the scooter scow sailed up the river,
and the rest of us, on snow shoes, took the tow path of the canal,
hauling the sledge along. We carried provisions for a week and a good
supply of blankets. The island was reached without mishap, except that
Dutchy had to be helped several times in dragging the heavy scow around
the rapids. Bill reached the island long before we did, and after
unloading the canoe came racing back under a stiff breeze for a second
load. Then he took his turn at hauling the sledge, while Reddy sailed
the reloaded scooter canoe up to the island.


WILLOW CLUMP ISLAND IN WINTER.

We brought no tent with us, as we expected to take up our quarters in
the straw hut. When we reached the hut we hardly recognized it. It was
almost completely covered with snow and looked like an Eskimo house. The
snow had drifted well up over the north side, completely closing the
entrance. We had to set to work at once with a shovel and open up a
passageway, and then we had to shovel out a large pile of snow that had
drifted into the hut from the open doorway.


KINDLING A CAMP FIRE.

In the meantime Jack scoured the island for some dry wood. In this he
was not very successful, because everything was covered with snow, and
when he tried to kindle a fire in the open space in front of our hut he
found the task an exceedingly difficult one. Unfortunately we forgot to
bring the oil stove with us, and the prospect of something warm to eat
was exceedingly remote. We hadn't yet learned the trick of building a
camp fire in wet weather. After exhausting our stock of paper Fred and I
started over to Lumberville for several newspapers and a can of
kerosene. We went to old Jim Halliday's, who had befriended us on one or
two occasions the previous summer, and made known to him our troubles.

"What! A can of oil to build yer fire with? Well, ye won't git it from
me. I know a man as got blowed up apourin' oil on a fire. Why, shucks,
boys, you don't need no oil ner paper nuther on that there island. Its
chuck-full of silver birch trees, and there ain't no better kindlin'
than birch bark."

Birch bark! Why, yes, why hadn't we thought of that? We had used it for
torches the summer before and knew how nicely it burned. So back we
skated to camp, and then, peeling off a large quantity of bark from the
birch trees around us, we soon had a rousing big fire in front of the
hut.


THE OUTDOOR FIREPLACE.

[Illustration: Fig. 197. An Outdoor Cooking Fire.]

But there were more things to be learned about open fires. In our summer
outing Jack had done most of his cooking on a kerosene stove, and he
soon found that it was a very different matter to cook over an
unsheltered fire. The heat was constantly carried hither and thither by
the gusts of wind, so that he could scarcely warm up his saucepans. We
had to content ourselves with cold victuals for the first meal, but
before the next meal time came around we had learned a little more about
fire building. Two large logs were placed about 10 inches apart, and the
space between them was filled in with pieces of bark and small twigs and
sticks. The back of the fireplace was closed with stones. One touch of a
match was enough to kindle the fire, and in a moment it blazed up
beautifully. The logs at the sides and the stones at the back prevented
the wind from scattering the flames in all directions, and a steady
draft poured through the open end of the fireplace and up through the
heart of the fire. The side logs were so close together that our cooking
utensils could be supported directly on them.


A STONE-PAVED FIREPLACE.

[Illustration: Fig. 198. A Stone-paved Fireplace.]

The following summer we continued our open fireplace experiments.
Instead of using logs we drove stakes into the ground, forming a small
circular stockade about 2 feet high and 3 feet in diameter. A paving of
small stones covered the floor of the fireplace, and a lining of stones
was laid against the wall. The stakes were driven in on a slant, as
illustrated in Fig. 198, so as to better support the stone lining. A
break in the stockade at one side let in the necessary draft. Two of the
stakes on opposite sides of the fire were made extra long, and were
crotched at their upper ends. They served to support the cross stick
from which our kettles were hung. This form of fireplace was more
satisfactory for baking than the one in which logs were used for the
side walls, because the stone lining retained the heat much longer. To
bake biscuit, a pot of beans, or the like, the ashes would be drawn away
from the stone paving and the pot placed directly on the hot stones,
after which it was covered with hot embers and ashes.


A COLD NIGHT IN THE HUT.

But to return to our experiences on the island. We found it very cold on
the first night in the hut. We were afraid to build a fire inside lest
the straw thatchings would catch fire, and so we huddled together in the
corner, rolled up tightly in our blankets. But it was cold,
nevertheless. We had no door to close the opening into the hut, and
instead had piled up branches of cedar and hemlock against the doorway.
But a bitterly cold northwest wind was blowing down the river, and we
couldn't keep warm, no matter what we did. Most of the boys were ready
to go right home, but we stuck it out until the morning, and then after
we had toasted ourselves before a blazing bright fire, and had eaten a
hot breakfast, we forgot much of the discomfort of the night and were
ready for more "fun." We thought we would spend the next night in our
tree house, and so, right after breakfast, we packed up our blankets and
some provisions and started for the Jacob's Ladder.


MOUNTAIN CLIMBING.

Each fellow was provided with a pair of ice creepers of the same sort as
we had used in connection with the rennwolf (see page 170). In addition
to this each boy was provided with a home-made alpine stock, consisting
of a stout wooden stick in the end of which a large nail was driven and
the head filed off. Thus equipped we came to the foot of the cliff, and
much to our delight found it one mass of ice from top to bottom. Now was
our chance to try some Swiss mountain climbing. Bill took the lead, with
an old hatchet in his hand, to hack out any necessary footholds in the
ice wall, and the rest of us strung out behind him tied to a long rope,
each boy about 10 or 12 feet from the one ahead. Bill cautioned us to
keep our distance, holding the rope taut in one hand, so that if a
fellow stumbled he could be kept from falling either by the one in front
or by the one behind.

"Besides," he said, "if the rope drags on the ice, it is liable to be
cut or worn so that it will break when any strain was put on it."

Now, one would think from all these precautions that we were launched on
a perilous expedition. That was the impression we were trying to make on
ourselves, though, as a matter of fact, any one of us could have climbed
the cliff unaided and without any ice implements if he had used ordinary
care not to slip on the ice-clad ladder rounds or the snow-covered
ledges.

[Illustration: Fig. 199. Winter Expedition to the Goblins' Platform.]


A POOR SHELTER.

The climb was without mishap and we reached our tree house, only to find
it so badly racked by storm and weather that it was clearly out of the
question to attempt to spend the night there. The wind howled around the
house and whistled through dozens of cracks and chinks that had opened
in the walls. All that we could do, therefore, was to turn back to the
island and make the best of our straw hut again. On the way, however, we
stopped at Lumberville for some straw to be used for bedding. The
afternoon was spent sailing around on Lake Placid and the large smooth
stretch above the island.


A COSTLY CAMP FIRE.

After supper Bill and Reddy went into the hut to arrange the straw
bedding, while the rest of us gathered wood for a huge bonfire in front
of the hut. The wind was blowing right down the river and we expected it
to carry the warmth of the fire into the hut. The fire was built some
distance in front of the doorway, so as to prevent the hut from catching
fire. But we had evidently miscalculated the strength of the wind, for
no sooner was the fire fairly started than a shower of flaming brands
was blown right into the hut. In a moment the straw blazed up, cutting
off all escape for Bill and Reddy. Fortunately the framing was not
strong and the frost had loosened up the foundations, so that a few
frantic kicks opened an exit in the rear of the hut just in time to save
our comrades from cremation. Once it was fairly started we were
powerless to put out the blaze until the hut was ruined. The snow that
covered the walls checked the fire somewhat, but the thatching burned
from the inside, melting the snow and dropping it suddenly into the
flaming straw bedding on the floor. As we sat in a gloomy ring about the
camp fire, watching the tongues of flame play about the charred ribs of
our hut, we had reason to be thankful that the wind had played its
pranks before we turned in for the night. What a risk we had run of
being all burned to death! It made me shudder to think of it. Well, our
hut was burned. What next? That was the question put before the society.

[Illustration: Bill Gets Tangled up with His Skis.]

[Illustration: Warming the Lunch on a Cold Day.]

"Might build a snow hut," suggested Dutchy.

"Now, be sensible," answered Reddy. "We can't build a snow hut in five
minutes."

"The best plan," I volunteered, "would be to go over to Jim Halliday's
and ask him to let us sleep in his barn."

Immediately the suggestion was acted upon.


A FRIEND IN TIME OF TROUBLE.

Old Jim Halliday greeted us very gruffly. He said he wouldn't have us in
his barn. "You'll be amussin' up the hay so't wouldn't be fit fer the
horses to eat. Any boy that is fool enough to build a fire on a straw
bed ought to go right home to his mother, and he hadn't oughter be
trusted with matches, nuther. He might get his fingers burned."

But I caught a twinkle in the old man's eyes and wasn't surprised to
have him end his lecture by taking us into the kitchen and seating us
around an old-fashioned log fire while "Marthy," his daughter, made us
some hot coffee to take the chill out of our bones. We didn't sleep in
the barn that night. The Hallidays had only one spare bed, hardly enough
for six boys, and the old man didn't want to be partial to any two of
us, but his daughter solved the difficulty by dragging down two large
feather mattresses and laying them on the kitchen floor in front of the
hearth.

Before bidding us "good night," Mr. Halliday put on his sternest
expression and bade Marthy clear out all the matches from the room.

"Jest as like as not they'll set fire to the house," he growled. "I
expect this is my last night on airth." And then, with a solemn warning
not to hang our clothes on the flames, and to "keep them feather beds
offen the embers," he left us to a comfortable night's rest.

In the morning, after we had disposed of all the hot griddle cakes we
could eat, and had sincerely thanked our host and hostess for their
hospitality, we wended our way back to the island, silently packed up
our goods and started home for Lamington.

"Well, this isn't going to happen again," was Bill's comment. "Next year
we'll have a log cabin on the island."

[Illustration: Fast Asleep in a Sleeping Bag.]

[Illustration: How the Pack Harness was Worn.]




CHAPTER XVIII.

TRAMPING OUTFITS.


Our winter expedition to Willow Clump Island filled us with a wholesome
respect for Arctic explorers. If we could find it so uncomfortable with
the thermometer only at 10 degrees above zero, what would it be to
endure a temperature of 40, 50 or even 60 degrees below zero? We were
interested to learn how they managed to stand it. This led to a study of
the subject in Mr. Van Syckel's library.


SLEEPING BAGS.

In one of the books Dutchy came across the description of a sleeping
bag. It was made of reindeer's skin sewed into a large bag with the fur
side turned in. This bag was large enough to hold three or four
sleepers, and each man was covered with a pair of woolen bags, one bag
slipped inside the other. The woolen bags were made of blankets sewed
together and provided with flaps at the upper ends to cover the head of
the sleeper.

Of course, we had to make a sleeping bag, too. The innermost bag was
made of an old quilt and the next one of a blanket that we were
fortunate enough to get hold of. But when it came to the reindeer skin
we were balked, until we happened to run across a piece of rubber
sheeting at the village store. This was a lucky find, for I doubt if one
country store in a hundred carries such stock. The piece was just large
enough to cover the blanket bag and allow for an ample flap to cover the
head. To be sure, this furnished a shelter for only one person, and
there were six in the society. It was clear that the treasury could not
afford the expense of six sleeping bags; but as such a device would be
useful only under very unusual circumstances we decided that two
sleeping bags would be all the society would need. We had been rather
curious to explore the country back of the hills on the Pennsylvania
side of the river, and with some light provisions and these sleeping
bags strapped to the back a couple of boys could make quite an extended
tour, unmindful of weather conditions. On real hot nights a fellow could
get into the quilt bag and sleep on the blanket and waterproof bag. In
cold weather the combination of all three bags provided sufficient
warmth. The rubber bag would protect the sleeper from any moisture in
the ground, and would also keep him thoroughly dry, even in a pouring
rain.


BILL'S "MUMMY CASE."

[Illustration: Fig. 200. Bottom Piece of Sleeping Bag.]

[Illustration: Fig. 201. Top Piece of Sleeping Bag.]

[Illustration: Fig. 202. Headboards.]

Our second sleeping bag was Bill's own design, and was, in many
respects, an improvement on the first, though it looked ridiculously
like an Egyptian mummy case. The inner bags were just like those of the
first sleeping bag, but as there was no more rubber sheeting in town we
had to make the outer bag of enameled cloth, such as is used for
carriage curtains. Out of this cloth Bill cut a piece of the shape shown
in Fig. 200 to serve as bottom, sides and ends of the sleeping bag. The
bag was sewed wrong side out; that is, the piece was laid with enameled
side up, and then the corners were sewed together after painting the
seams with white lead. Then a top piece was cut out, of the size
indicated in Fig. 201. The edges were hemmed over a piece of rope, which
thus formed a corded edge. Now, with the enameled side of the cover
piece turned inward, its edges were sewed to the edges of the first
piece. The bag was now turned inside out, so that the enameled surface
lay on the outside and the seams turned inward. The corded edge on the
cover piece lapped over the sides, forming a watershed.

[Illustration: Fig. 203. The Mummy Case.]

[Illustration: Fig. 204. Sleeping Bag in Use.]

It was Bill's idea to rig up the flap in such a manner that it would not
lie against the face, so that the sleeper could have plenty of fresh
air, even in rainy weather. This required the use of two headboards, of
the form shown in Fig. 202. The headboards were connected at the bottom
by a thin board, and to this framework the sides of the bag were nailed.
To the end flap several cleats were nailed, adapted to fit into notches
cut in the headboards. The cleat at the end of the flap was laid on
edge, as shown, and fitted into deep notches in the headboards just
above the edge of the cover piece. This held the flap securely,
preventing it from flying open in a heavy wind. At the same time the
small space between the flap and the cover piece allowed for an ample
supply of fresh air. When using this sleeping bag, if there was any
indication of a shower, we took care to have the head pointed to
windward so as to prevent entrance of rain through this air space.


THE "A" TENT.

[Illustration: Fig. 205. The "A" Tent.]

In connection with the sleeping bags it may be well to describe here a
curious shelter Dutchy and I came across in one of our tramps. It was
just about dusk one day when we discovered a temporary camp at which a
couple of men were preparing dinner. They informed us that they were
naturalists on a two weeks' outing. At their invitation we joined camp
with them. They had a small "A" tent of balloon silk, under which they
kept their provisions. The tent had no ridge pole, but was supported
instead by a rope stretched between two trees (see Fig. 205).


A CAMP CHAIR.

[Illustration: Fig. 206. The Camp Chair.]

[Illustration: Fig. 207. Pockets in the Canvas Back.]

The camp was also furnished with an easy canvas chair, made by driving a
couple of short posts in the ground for front legs and a pair of longer
ones for the back. A piece of canvas was hung over these posts, forming
both seat and back. The posts were driven into the ground on a slant, as
illustrated in Fig. 206, and the canvas was formed with pockets at the
corners which were hooked over these posts. This made a very comfortable
chair, though, of course, it was fixed to one spot. When the men moved
camp they would carry with them only the canvas piece, and at the next
stopping place new posts were chopped and used for legs.

[Illustration: Waiting for a Bite.]

[Illustration: Temporary Shelter under an "A" Tent.]


THE CAMP BED.

[Illustration: Fig. 208. Canvas Bed.]

But what interested us most was the form of bed they had. This, like the
chair, consisted of a piece of canvas arranged to be supported on posts
cut from the woods in the neighborhood of the camp. The canvas piece was
3 feet wide and 6 feet long, with a wide hem at each side, forming
pockets through which poles were passed, as in a stretcher. The ends of
the poles were supported on posts driven into the ground. The poles were
also propped up at the center, as shown, the pockets being cut away and
bound, so as not to permit any wear on the canvas. To prevent the posts
from leaning inward under the weight of the sleeper, they were braced
apart by cross sticks.

[Illustration: Fig. 209. Bed Set up on Posts.]


THE CAMP BED IN A SHOWER.

[Illustration: Fig. 210. A Poncho.]

[Illustration: Fig. 211. Camp Bed in the Rain.]

[Illustration: Fig. 212. Umbrella with Fly.]

As a precaution against rain, a tall post was set up at the head and
another at the foot of the bed, and a rope was stretched over the posts
with the ends fastened to stakes driven into the ground. Over this rope
a rubber "poncho" was laid to keep off the rain. A "poncho," by the way,
is a blanket of rubber cloth about 4-1/2 feet wide and 6 feet long, in
the center of which is a slit through which you can put your head; then
the rubber cloth falls over you like a cape, as in Fig. 210, and makes a
perfect protection against rain. The ponchos these men had were not
quite long enough to cover the whole bed, so they fastened umbrellas to
the head posts, as shown in Fig. 212. During a shower in the woods the
rain comes straight down in large drops, caused by the water collecting
on the leaves. To prevent these large drops from splashing through the
umbrellas, they laid pieces of cloth over the umbrellas, which served,
like the fly of a tent, to check the fall of rain drops.


A NIGHTMARE.

I slept in the mummy case that night and Dutchy in the first sleeping
bag. It must have been about midnight when I was awakened by a most
unearthly yell. It sent the cold chills running up and down my back. A
second scream brought me into action, and I struggled to throw back the
head flap, which had become caught. It seemed an age before I could open
it and wriggle out of the bag. Dutchy was sitting up in bed with a look
of horror on his face, and his whole body was in a tremor of fear. One
of the men dashed a glass of water in his face, which brought him back
to his senses. It was only a nightmare, we found. Dutchy dreamed he had
been injured in a railway accident and had been taken for dead to the
morgue. He tried to let them know that he was alive, but couldn't utter
a sound, until finally he burst out with the yells that roused the camp.
Then, as he awoke with the horror of the dream still on him, his eyes
fell on the two stretcher beds that looked like biers and the black
coffin-like sleeping bag. It was not much wonder that Dutchy was
frightened. The camp did certainly have a most ghastly appearance in the
vague moonlight that filtered through the trees, and it must have been
still more gruesome to see the coffin and biers suddenly burst open and
the corpses come running toward him. To prevent any further nightmare we
set Dutchy's sleeping bag under the "A" tent, where he would be saved
the horror of again waking up in a morgue.


PACK HARNESS.

[Illustration: Fig. 213. Pack Harness.]

In the morning our friends broke camp and started westward. Dutchy and I
watched them packing up their goods into a couple of very compact
bundles, which they strapped to their backs with a peculiar pack
harness. I took careful note of the way the harness was put together,
and when we returned to the island we made two sets for use on our
tramping expeditions. A canvas yoke was first cut out to the form shown
in Fig. 213. We used two thicknesses of the heaviest brown canvas we
could find, binding the two pieces together with tape. The yoke was
padded with cotton at the shoulders and a strap was fastened to each
shoulder piece. These were arranged to be buckled to a pair of straps
fastened to the back of the yoke and passing under the arms. Riveted to
these straps were a pair of straps used for fastening on the pack. The
yoke straps were attached with the rough side against the yoke, while
the pack straps were riveted on with the rough side uppermost, as
indicated in the drawing.


RIVETING.

[Illustration: Fig. 214. Riveting the Straps Together.]

The method of riveting together the leather straps may need a word of
explanation. A copper rivet was passed through a hole in the two straps;
then the washer was slipped over the projecting end of the rivet. This
washer had to be jammed down tight against the leather, and to do this
we drilled a hole of the diameter of the rivet in a block of wood, and
putting this block over the washer, with the end of the rivet projecting
into the hole, we hammered the block until the washer was forced down
tight against the leather. Then taking a light tack hammer we battered
down the end of the rivet onto the washer. Care was taken to do this
hammering very lightly, otherwise the end would have been bent over
instead of being flattened.




CHAPTER XIX.

THE LAND YACHT.


Only one thing of importance occurred between our Christmas holidays and
Eastertide: this was Bill's invention of the tricycle sailboat or land
yacht. We had returned to school with sailing on the brain. Our skate
sail served us well enough while there was any ice, but as spring came
on we wished we had our canoe with us, or even the old scow to sail on
the lakes near the school. Once we seriously considered building a
sailboat, but the project was given up, as we had few facilities for
such work. But Bill wasn't easily baffled, and I wasn't surprised to
have him come tearing into the room one day, yelling, "I've got it! I've
got it!" In his hands were two bicycle wheels, which I recognized as
belonging to a couple of bicycles we had discarded the year before.

"What are you going to do with them?" I inquired.

"I'm going to make a tricycle sailboat."

"What?"

"A tricycle sailboat, a land boat, or anything you've a mind to call it.
I mean a boat just like our ice boat only on bicycle wheels instead of
skates. We can sail all over south Jersey on the thing. Come on down and
help me build it."


THE FRAME OF THE YACHT.

[Illustration: Fig. 215. The Backbone and Crosspiece.]

I followed him to the shed at the back of the school and found that he
had already procured a couple of scantlings for the frame of the boat.
The sticks were 2 inches thick and 4 inches wide. The backbone was cut
to a length of 10 feet, and a 5-foot link was sawed off for the
crosspiece. The two pieces were securely nailed together about 3 feet
from the forward end of the backbone. The crosspiece was set on edge,
but a notch was cut in it about 1 inch deep to receive the backbone. We
might have braced the frame with wooden braces, as in the ice boat, but
we thought that this time we would vary the design by using wire bracing
instead, thus making the frame much lighter. I asked Bill how he
proposed to tighten the wire. Turnbuckles were the thing, but I knew
that they were rather expensive.

"Just you leave that to me," said Bill. "I've a scheme that I think will
work out all right."


A SIMPLE TURNBUCKLE.

[Illustration: Fig. 216. An Eye Bolt.]

[Illustration: Fig. 217. Stretching the Guy Lines.]

At the hardware store of the town we bought a pound of No. 16 iron wire,
eight large screw eyes and six eye bolts, with nuts and washers. Both
the screw eyes and eye bolts had welded eyes and the shanks of the eye
bolts were 6 inches long. A pair of screw eyes were now threaded into
the backbone at each side about 18 inches from the end, and at each end
of the crosspieces an eye bolt was fastened. I began to see Bill's plan.
He was going to draw the wire taut by tightening up the nuts on the eye
bolts. To get the best effect the hole for the eye bolt had to be
drilled in on a slant, so that the bolt would pull directly in the line
of the wire. To get just the right angle we ran a cord from the screw
eye on one side to the point where the bolt was to be inserted, and
traced its direction on the crosspiece. The hole for the eye bolt was
now drilled parallel with the mark we had traced. The same was done at
the other end of the crosspiece. A pair of screw eyes were now screwed
into the backbone at the fore end and a pair of eye bolts were set at a
corresponding angle in the ends of the crosspiece. The crosspiece was
notched at each side so that the nuts and washers on the eye bolts would
have a square seating. Then we stretched on the wire guy lines, drawing
them as tight as possible, with the eye bolts held in place by a turn or
two of the nuts, after which we screwed up the nuts as far as we could,
thus drawing up the wire until it was very taut. This done the second
nut was threaded onto each bolt against the first so as to lock it in
place and prevent it from jarring loose.


STEPPING THE MAST.

[Illustration: Fig. 218 The Frame with Wire Braces.]

Our next task was to step the mast. We found in the shed an old
flagstaff 15 feet long and 3 inches in diameter. The lower end of this,
for about a foot, we whittled down to a diameter of 2 inches, and drove
it into a hole in the backbone 12 inches from the forward end. The mast
was stayed by a wire stretched from the head to an eye bolt at the fore
end of the backbone. The end of the mast which projected below the
backbone was stayed with wire running forward to an eye bolt and aft to
a screw eye on the backbone, and also with a pair of wires running to
screw eyes threaded into the crosspiece near the ends. We couldn't very
well use eye bolts on these wires except at the fore end, but we
stretched the wires as tight as possible before the screw eyes were
screwed all the way in, and then, as we turned the screw eyes, the wire
was wound up on them and drawn fairly taut. Fig. 219 shows a side view
of the frame, and wires marked 1 and 2 are the same as illustrated in
Fig. 218, which is a top or plan view of the frame.


MOUNTING THE FRAME ON BICYCLE WHEELS.

[Illustration: Fig. 219. Bracing the Mast.]

We were now ready to mount the frame on the bicycle wheels. We used only
the front wheels of the bicycles with the forks in which they were
journaled. The shanks at the top of the forks were firmly driven into
holes in the crosspiece near the ends. For the steering wheel Bill took
the front fork and wheel of his new bicycle, letting the shank into a
hole at the stern end of the backbone.


THE TILLER.

[Illustration: Fig. 220. The Tiller.]

[Illustration: Fig. 221. The Seat.]

For a tiller we used a piece of an old rake handle. A small hole was
first drilled into the handle and the end of the stick was then split
through the hole, permitting the projecting shank of the fork to be
driven tightly into the hole. The split wood was now tightly closed onto
the shank by means of a bolt (see Fig. 220). In the rubbish heap we
found an old chair. The legs were sawed off and the seat was then firmly
nailed to the backbone. The back of the chair was cut down so that it
just cleared the tiller.


A "LEG-OF-MUTTON" SAIL.

[Illustration: Fig. 222. Leg-of-Mutton Sail.]

[Illustration: Fig. 223. The Sailor's Stitch.]

[Illustration: Fig. 224. Laying Out the Sail.]

Everything was now completed but the sail. This was a triangular or
"leg-of-mutton" affair, of the dimensions given in Fig. 222. It was made
of light canvas, 30 inches wide, of which we bought 14 yards. Out of
this we took one strip 18 feet long, one 13 feet, one 8 feet, and one 3
feet long. We had no sewing machine, and therefore had to sew the strips
together by hand. The selvedge edges of the strips were lapped over each
other about an inch and then they were sewed together sailor fashion,
that is, each edge was hemmed down, as shown in Fig. 223. The strips
were sewed together so that at the foot each projected at least 21
inches below the next shorter one. This done, the sail was cut to the
dimensions given, allowing 1-1/2 inches all around for the hem. The hem
was turned over a light rope, forming a strong corded edge. At the clew,
tack and head loops were formed in the rope which projected from the
canvas, and at intervals along the foot the canvas was cut away,
exposing the rope so that the sail could be laced to the boom, as
illustrated. The boom was a pole 11 feet long attached to the mast by
means of a screw hook threaded into the end of the boom and hooked into
a screw eye on the mast, after which the screw hook was hammered so it
would close over the screw eye to keep it from slipping off. The sail
was raised by a halyard passing over a block at the top of the mast. The
sheet was fastened near the end of the boom, passed through a block on
the backbone, back of the tiller, and through another block on the boom,
and was led to a cleat within easy reach of the chair seat.


A SAIL THROUGH THE COUNTRY.

[Illustration: Fig. 225. A Sail on the Land Yacht.]

Our land yacht proved to be quite a successful craft in the flat country
around the school. Of course, we could not sail everywhere; a country
road is too narrow for any tacking when it comes to sailing against the
wind. We hadn't thought of that when we made our trial trip. A strong
east wind was blowing and so we ventured forth on a road that led due
west from our school. Off we sped before the wind for two miles, until
we came to a sharp turn in the road. Then we began to think of turning
homeward. But this was a very different proposition. The wind was dead
against us and to try to tack from side to side of the road was useless,
because we would hardly get under way on one tack before we had to swing
around on the other tack, losing all our momentum. It ended up by our
lowering sail and ignominiously trundling the yacht back to school.
After that we carefully selected our course, and never sailed away from
home before the wind unless we knew of a roundabout way that would lead
us back to port on a couple of reaches (long tacks).




CHAPTER XX.

EASTER VACATION.


Just before Easter that year Bill's Aunt Dorothy invited him to spend
Eastertide with her and bring along his roommate. I accepted the
invitation with alacrity. Bill had once spent a whole summer at his
aunt's home, and when we arrived there he had many old haunts to visit.
We spent the first day rambling through the woods, in the hills and back
of the house.


BILL'S CAVE.

He introduced me to a cave which he believed was known to only two other
boys, both of whom had since moved to New York city. The mouth of the
cave was almost closed by a large boulder that had lodged in front of
it. We had to climb to the top of this rock, and then letting ourselves
down with a rope we slid down the sloping rear face of the boulder into
a crevice in the rocks. Then after squirming under a ledge we emerged
into a large chamber, which appeared to be as dark as night after our
sudden entrance from the outer light.

[Illustration: Fig 226. Sliding Down into the Cave.]

Bill lighted a candle which projected from a chink in the wall. By its
light I saw that there was a pool in the center of the cave fed from a
spring at one point. From the pool the water trickled off into a tiny
stream to the mouth of the cave, where it was lost in a crack in the
rocks. The water was ice cold and clear as crystal. Around the pool were
several chairs and a table made by Bill and his two friends. That was
evidently where Bill had gotten his idea of a subterranean club.


THE BARREL STAVE HAMMOCK.

[Illustration: Fig. 227. The Barrel Stave Hammock.]

[Illustration: Fig. 228. Tying the Staves Together.]

Hanging between a couple of projecting rocks was a hammock made of
barrel staves. The hammock was a very simple affair, made by drilling a
1-inch hole in each end of each barrel stave. The staves were then
connected by two ropes on each side, woven alternately in and out
through these holes, that is, one rope would be passed down through one
stave, up through the next, down through the third, etc., and through
the same holes another rope would be threaded in and out but in the
opposite direction. The end staves of the hammock were provided with
double holes, as shown in Fig. 228, so as to make them lie flat, then
the ropes were threaded through them.


THE BARREL ARMCHAIR.

[Illustration: Fig. 229. The Armchair Frame.]

[Illustration: Fig. 230. Casters on the Chair.]

[Illustration: Fig. 231. Tacking on the Straw Sandwiches.]

[Illustration: Fig. 232. The Barrel Armchair.]

Aside from the hammock and the rustic furniture there was a fine
armchair, made from a barrel that had been sawed off, as in Fig. 229, to
form the arms and back. The barrel was raised from the ground by setting
it on a couple of boards arranged in the form of a V. Then a caster was
fastened to the point of the V and another at each end, making a
three-legged chair of it. The chair was upholstered with ticking stuffed
with straw. First a piece of ticking large enough for the back was laid
on the ground and covered over with an even layer of straw. Over the
straw a second piece of ticking was laid, making what Bill called a
"straw sandwich." This was nailed to the chair back along the edge and
at the bottom, drawing the cloth as taut as possible. To make a better
finish for the chair, the ticking was covered with dark red denim. Then
strips of braid were laid on the chair back, crossing each other like a
lattice. At the crossing points of the braid brass-headed tacks were
nailed right through the sandwich into the wood, producing the padded
upholstered effect. Next a long, thin sandwich was made to run along the
edge of the back, and another one to run around the chair just below the
seat, also a couple of small sandwiches to cover the legs and the
brackets leading to them. These were all covered with denim before being
tacked to the chair and then they were bound with tape at intervals to
produce the padded effect. The rest of the woodwork was covered with
denim, and a neat ruffle made by Aunt Dorothy hung about the bottom of
the chair. A thick, round sandwich was now made to cover the seat board.
This was also given a padded effect by binding it with tape. The seat
board was not nailed to the chair, but rested on four cleats nailed to
the barrel on the inside. When the seat was lifted out it uncovered a
shallow chest in which various things could be stored.


THE SUMMER TOBOGGAN.

[Illustration: Fig. 233. The Summer Toboggan.]

Bill informed me that he and his two chums used to spend hot summer
afternoons in this cool place whittling out various ornaments and making
furniture for the cave. In one corner were a number of home-made
amusement devices, one of which struck me as rather odd. It consisted of
a pair of large barrel staves, hollow side up and connected with two
short boards, as in Fig. 233. Bill said it was a summer toboggan, to be
used on grass instead of snow. I had never heard of such an affair, and,
of course, had to have a demonstration. Bill went to the top of the hill
and from there coasted down the grassy slope in fine style.


TAILLESS KITES.

"There's a better place over on the other side of the hill," he said,
and led the way to his favorite coasting spot. But here our attention
was diverted from coasting by the curious sight of a full-grown man
flying a kite. We found out afterward that he was a Professor Keeler,
who had made a great scientific study of kites. Professor Keeler was
very affable, and we soon got acquainted with him. His kite was way up
in the air, almost out of sight, and was pulling like everything.
Neither Bill nor I could hold it long. But the most remarkable part of
it all to me was the fact that the kite had no tail. I had heard of
tailless kites made like a box, but this one appeared to be very much
like the kites I had made in my younger days, and I well knew the
importance of a long tail to keep such a kite steady. We asked the
professor about it, and were informed that this kite was of the Malay
type, which is so designed that the cloth bellies out into pockets on
each side of the central stick or backbone, and these pockets balance
the kite while the backbone acts as a rudder.

Finding that we were interested in the subject he gave us full
instructions for making kites from 5 to 8 feet long, and these I jotted
down for future use. In a 5-foot kite he said the stick should be 3/8
inch thick and 1/2 inch wide, in a 6-foot kite 7/16 inch thick and 9/16
inch wide, in a 7-foot kite 5/8 inch thick and 3/4 inch wide, and in an
8-foot kite 3/4 inch thick and 1 inch wide. On the following summer we
built a 5-footer and also an 8-footer.

[Illustration: Fig. 234. Coasting in Summer.]


A FIVE-FOOT MALAY KITE.

[Illustration: Fig. 235. Tying on the Cleats.]

[Illustration: Fig. 236. Hook on the Vertical Stick.]

[Illustration: Fig. 237. Double Hook.]

[Illustration: Fig. 238. Connection at Corner.]

For the 5-foot kite we used two sticks of hickory 3/8 of an inch wide,
1/2 an inch thick, and each 5 feet long. According to directions, one
stick was laid across the other at a point two-elevenths of its length
from the top. Two-elevenths of 5 feet is a little less than 11 inches,
and so we fastened on the cross stick 11 inches from the upper end of
the backbone. The sticks were not nailed together, because this would
have weakened the frame just at the point where it was under the
greatest strain. Instead we followed the professor's directions and tied
cleats to each stick, as shown in Fig. 235, so as to form sockets. Then
the sticks were laid across each other, each stick fitting into the
socket of the other, just like a mortised joint. A coat of shellac on
the bottom of each cleat glued it temporarily to the stick, after which
it was very tightly bound with fine cord. The stick and cleats were now
thoroughly shellaced. The end of each stick was tapered off to receive a
brass ferrule of the kind used on chisel handles. They can be bought at
any hardware store. At the end of the backbone we fastened hooks made of
brass, bent to the form shown in Fig. 236. The cross sticks were also
provided with hooks, but these were double, as shown in Fig. 237, so
that a hook lay on both the front and the rear side of the frame.

[Illustration: Fig. 239. Bending the Cross Stick.]

The frame was covered with a kind of cloth called "percaline." The cloth
was hemmed along each edge over heavy picture wire, and at each corner
the wire was twisted around a small solid ring of brass. The rings were
now slipped over the hooks on the frame and then the cross stick was
bowed back by fastening a wire to the rear hooks and drawing it taut.
Professor Keeler told us to tighten this bowstring until the distance
from the wire to the cross stick at the center was equal to one-tenth of
the length of the stick. As our sticks were each 5 feet long we
tightened the wire until the cross stick bowed out 6 inches, as in Fig.
239. The belly band of the kite was fastened at one end to the lower end
of the backbone and at the upper end to a wire hook at the juncture of
the two sticks. The hook was fastened to the cross stick by flattening
the ends and running them under the cord used for binding on the cleats
(see Fig. 240). A buttonhole was made in the cloth covering to let this
hook project through. The belly band was just long enough, so that it
could be stretched over to one end of the cross stick, as in Fig. 241,
and at this point, that is, 30 inches from the upper end of the belly
band, a brass ring was made fast, to which the main kite string was
tied. The kite possessed the advantage that it could be quickly taken
apart and folded into a small space.


AN EIGHT-FOOT MALAY KITE.

[Illustration: Fig. 240. Belly Band Hook.]

Our 8-foot kite was made in the same way only the sticks were 3/4 inch
thick, 1 inch wide and 8 feet long. The cross stick was fastened 17-1/2
inches (two-elevenths of 8 feet) from the top of the backbone and it was
bowed back 9-1/2 inches (one-tenth of 8 feet). The wire in the hem of
the covering was a double thickness of the heaviest picture wire
obtainable.

[Illustration: Fig. 241. The 5-foot Malay Kite.]

[Illustration: Fig. 242. Malay Kite with Elastic Belly Band.]


THE ELASTIC BELLY BAND.

An important change was made in the belly band of the kite. The lower
strand was made elastic by tying it fast to a number of heavy rubber
bands, as in Fig. 242. When flying the kite, if a sudden, strong puff of
wind struck it, the elastic belly band would give, tilting up the lower
end of the kite so that the wind passed under; but as soon as the gust
had passed the rubber bands would draw the lower end of the kite back
against the wind. The elastic belly band had the effect of making the
kite rise almost vertically. Sometimes it would even sail square
overhead. The 8-foot kite was a very powerful one. To hold it we had to
use a very strong cord, the kind used by upholsterers for tying down the
springs in a chair or a sofa.


PUTTING THE KITES TO WORK.

Bill tested the strength of the kite once by hooking a spring scale to
the kite string. The scale was made to register weights up to 25 pounds.
But our kite yanked the pointer immediately past the 25-pound mark as
far as it would go. We judged from this that the kite would lift at
least 40 pounds. Such a pull as this it seemed a pity to waste, but how
to utilize the power was a problem until one day, when the kite was
soaring up on a south wind, Dutchy suggested that we tie it to one of
the canoes and go sailing up-stream. We tried the trick at once, but it
didn't work very well, because the canoe was too light. The kite would
drop unless there was a heavy pull on the string. We had better success
with the scow, however, which provided a sufficient drag on the kite,
and with the two kites to pull us we sailed a long ways up-stream,
drifting down with the current when we had gone as far as we cared to.


THE DIAMOND BOX KITE.

[Illustration: Fig. 243. The Scow Towed by Kites.]

[Illustration: Fig. 244. Cleat for Spreader.]

[Illustration: Fig. 245. Corner Stick and Spreader.]

[Illustration: Fig. 246. The Narrow Frame.]

[Illustration: Fig. 247. Tacking on the Cloth.]

[Illustration: Fig. 248. Forked End of Long Spreader.]

Professor Keeler also gave us instructions for making a diamond-shaped
box kite, and though we never built one, it may not be amiss to publish
his instructions here. I quote from the chronicles of the S. S. I. E. E.
of W. C. I.:

"Materials: Four sticks, 1/4 inch thick by 5/8 inch wide by 44 inches
long, for the corner sticks. Two sticks, 1/4 inch thick by 5/8 inch wide
by 15 inches long, for the short spreaders. Two sticks, 1/2 inch square
by about 38 inches long, for the long spreaders. Two strips of cloth 81
inches long, hemmed at each edge to a width of 13 inches. Whittle out
twelve cleats to the form shown in Fig. 244. At the ends of the 15-inch
spreaders nail cleats on each side with long wire brads, so as to form
forks, as shown in Fig. 245, in which two of the corner sticks are held.
The short spreaders are fastened to the corner sticks, 7 inches from the
ends, with brads driven through the cleats, making the frame (as in Fig.
246). To prevent the frame from skewing off sidewise it should be braced
with wire running diagonally across from one corner stick to the other.
Ordinary soft stovepipe wire will do. Care must be taken to have the
spreaders meet the corner sticks squarely or at right angles. Now take
one of the cloth strips and sew its ends together to form a band. The
end should be lapped about an inch and fastened with the sailor stitch
(see Fig. 223). The same should be done to the other cross strip, and
then each band should be marked off with pencil lines at four points,
all equidistant from each other. The two bands may now be tacked to the
two ends of the frame with opposite pencil lines over the edges of the
corner sticks, as in Fig. 247. The two remaining corner sticks are then
nailed to the bands at the two other pencil lines. These corner sticks
will now be braced apart by the long spreaders, which are notched to the
right length to stretch the cloth taut. A cleat is nailed over each
notch, as shown in Fig. 248, forming forks to hold the corner pieces.
The long spreaders are now forced down until they meet the short
spreaders, to which they are tied with waxed string. The long spreaders
may be nailed to the corner sticks by driving brads right through the
cloth into the cleats and the sticks. The belly band may be fastened to
any one of the corner sticks at the spreaders, and from the points where
it is tied it should measure about 45 inches in length. The point where
the main string should be attached to the belly band may be best
determined by experiment."

[Illustration: Fig. 249. The Diamond Box Kite.]




CHAPTER XXI.

THE WATER WHEEL.


Summer found us again on Willow Clump Island with heads full of new
ideas. Bill had come across an old copy of Ewbanks' "Hydraulics" in the
school library. It was a book describing machines of the
ancients--principally devices for raising water. Rather dry reading, I
thought, even though it was a wet subject; but Bill seemed to find it
absorbingly interesting. I came in late one afternoon, after a glorious
game of baseball, only to find Bill poring over the yellowed leaves of
the "Hydraulics" as fascinated as most fellows would be over a detective
story. It exasperated me to note that he thought more of this old book
than he did of our baseball team.

"Bill," I exclaimed, "what's got into you? I can't for the life of me
see what is so entertaining in that prehistoric book."

"Oh, go way. Don't bother me," was the surly reply.

But I wouldn't be put off that way. Quickly I snatched the book from his
grasp and threw it out the window.

"Now, sir," I cried, "maybe you will kindly explain to me why you
persist in studying that old volume, to the neglect of our baseball
team."

"Don't get so excited, old chap," he replied. "That book is all right.
I'm studying up some new schemes for next year's expedition to Willow
Clump Island. Why, there are lots of things in that old book that we can
make." And he proceeded to unfold his plans, sketching out some curious
designs of water wheels and pumps.

By the time school closed for the summer Bill had thoroughly digested
that volume, and was ready to reconstruct many of the ancient machines.


THE WATER WHEEL.

Our first work on reaching the island was to erect a water wheel, or
"noria," as it was called in the book, in front of the camp. It had been
a great nuisance to keep our filter barrel full. Every few days we would
have to form a bucket brigade, passing pails of water up the line until
the barrel was filled. Now Bill proposed to do away with all this bother
and let the river do the work for us.


SURVEYING FOR THE WATER WHEEL.

We first determined the height of the upper filter barrel above the
level of the river. This was done with our surveying instrument, which
was set level with the top of the barrel. We sighted with the instrument
to a long pole that was held upright at the edge of the water. The pole
had been marked off into feet with white chalk marks, and on sighting
through the sight holes we found that the hairs came in line with the
eleventh chalk mark. The top of the filter was, therefore, 11 feet above
the level of the river. Bill figured that it would be necessary to
construct a wheel about 15 feet in diameter in order to raise the water
to the proper height.

[Illustration: Fig. 250. Surveying for the Water Wheel.]


TOWERS FOR THE WATER WHEEL.

[Illustration: Fig. 251. Frame for Large Tower.]

First we built the towers to support the wheel. One tower was 16 feet
high and the other only 10 feet. The large tower was made something like
a very tall and narrow saw-horse. Two stout poles 17 feet long were
flattened at their upper ends and nailed together, with the ends
projecting about a foot, as shown in Fig. 251. At the bottom these poles
were spaced 8 feet apart by a cross bar, and about 9-1/2 feet from the
bottom a pair of boards were nailed to opposite sides of the pole to
serve as supports for the axle of the water wheel. Another pair of
17-foot poles was now similarly fastened together and then the two pairs
were spaced about 12 feet apart and connected at the top and bottom with
boards.

[Illustration: Fig. 252. The Large Tower.]

[Illustration: Fig. 253. V-shaped Trough.]

At the top two smooth boards were used and these were nailed to the
inner sides of the projecting ends, which were tapered off. In this
manner a V-shaped trough was formed. The boards were firmly nailed
together at their meeting edges so as to prevent them from warping
apart. A diagonal brace at each corner made the wedge-shaped tower very
substantial. A number of cleats nailed to one of the poles provided a
ladder by which we could mount to the top of the tower. The shorter
tower was a three-legged affair, made of three 12-foot poles. At first
two of these were flattened and nailed together at their upper ends, and
they were braced at the top and bottom. The third leg was then nailed in
place and braced by cross bars connecting it with the other two poles.


THE WHEEL.

[Illustration: Fig. 254. The Small Tower.]

[Illustration: Fig. 255. The Hub.]

We were now ready to make the wheel. From Lumberville four 1/2-inch
boards, each 3 inches wide and 15 feet long, were procured; also a bar
of iron 3/4 of an inch in diameter and 2 feet long. At the center of one
of the boards a block of wood 4 inches long and 4 inches in diameter was
nailed on for a hub. A 3/4-inch hole was now drilled through this hub
and the board. Holes were also drilled into the other boards at their
centers. Then they were all strung onto the bar and spaced like spokes
at equal angles apart. Bill had figured it out some way that the ends of
the boards should be just about 5 feet 10-1/2 inches apart. When the
boards were all arranged we nailed them together at the center, and
connected the ends with narrow tie boards, as indicated in Fig. 256.


THE BUCKETS.

[Illustration: Fig. 256. The Water Wheel.]

Eight large tomato cans were now procured and fastened to the spokes at
the ends on the inner side, that is, the side the hub was nailed to. We
couldn't very well nail on the cans, so we punched two holes in the side
of each can and then secured them to the spokes by passing bolts through
these holes and the boards.


THE PADDLES.

[Illustration: Fig. 257. A Paddle.]

Then we cut sixteen paddles of the form shown in Fig. 257. Eight of
these were 12 inches long, and the rest measured 18 inches. A slot 3
inches deep was cut in each paddle of just the right width to slip over
the tie boards. The shorter paddles were fastened on just back of the
spokes, and the rest were secured half-way between each spoke. The
paddles were braced by stretching a wire from one to another all the way
around the wheel.


THE RECEIVING TROUGH.

[Illustration: Fig. 258. How the Paddles and Cans Were Attached.]

[Illustration: Fig 259. The Receiving Trough.]

Our next task was to nail the receiving trough in place on the higher
tower. We set up the towers on land and mounted the wheel between them
with the axle resting in the crotch of the short tower and in a deep
notch cut in the cross boards of the larger one. The cans on the wheel
faced the larger tower, but the hub at the center and a block nailed to
the larger tower spaced the wheel far enough out so that the cans did
not strike the tower as they revolved. We carefully measured the
distance between the spokes and the larger tower, and then built a
square trough of a size to just fit into this space. This trough was
nailed across the end of the V-shaped trough on top of the tower, but a
notch was cut in the side so that the water would pour from the square
or receiving trough into this V-shaped one. The square trough was about
8 feet long and its sides were 12 inches high; but at the ends we had to
cut them down to a height of but 6 inches, so as to permit the cans to
pass without hitting them.


SETTING UP THE TOWERS.

Our filter was located nearly 20 feet from the end of the river, and in
order to get a good current of water to revolve our wheel we had to
place it about 15 feet from shore. This necessitated building a trough
line 35 feet long. Ten feet of this line were already provided in the
top of the tall tower. This tower was now set up in place with the legs
firmly wedged into holes excavated in the bottom of the river. The legs
on the shore side were sunk a little deeper, so as to tilt the trough
slightly shoreward. The outer end of the trough was about 12 feet above
the level of the water. We needed but one more tower to support the
remainder of the trough line. This tower was built like the first one,
but was much shorter, as it was erected on land and the level of the
trough at the top had to be 5 or 6 inches lower so as to make the water
flow. We connected the towers by another V-shaped trough section. This
we nailed to the under side of the first trough and to the inside of the
second trough. The latter was then in the same way connected by a trough
section with the upper filter barrel. We now rigged up our shorter tower
about a foot from the taller one, wedging in the legs so that the top
came level with the slotted boards of the other tower.


MOUNTING THE WATER WHEEL.

Then came the task of mounting our wheel in place. We were working in a
pretty strong current and found it no easy matter. In the first place,
the wheel was floated down to the towers, but there it got jammed and we
couldn't lift it up. One of the paddles was broken and a bucket wrenched
off before we could disentangle the wheel from the towers, and then the
wheel was carried quite a distance down-stream before we could drag it
in to shore.

Our next attempt was more successful. This time we anchored the wheel so
that it just cleared the towers, then fastening a couple of long guy
ropes to it, we raised the wheel on edge, while a boy stood on each side
holding the ropes to keep the wheel steady. The anchor rope was now
slowly paid out and the wheel was rolled in between the towers. This
done, the wheel was lifted up and the axle rod was pushed in, with the
ends of the rod resting in slots of the boards on the tall tower and in
the crotch on the shorter one. To prevent the axle rod from working
endwise out of its bearings, we nailed pieces of wood across the crotch
and the slots against the ends of the rod. Then we cast off the anchor
rope and our wheel started work, the cans dipping up the water as they
were carried around by the wheel and pouring it out of the top into the
receiving trough, from which the water flowed down into the filter
barrel.


COOLING THE FILTER BARREL.

[Illustration: Fig. 260. The Water Wheel in Action.]

The trough line was very leaky and a great deal of water splashed out of
the buckets. But for all that, within a few moments our barrel was full
and overflowing. We hadn't figured on its filling so rapidly, but we
soon found a way of utilizing the surplus water. It was led to a
half-barrel in which we washed our dishes, and from there it flowed
through a ditch back to the river. The water for the wash barrel was
taken from the top of the upper filter barrel. But we let the lower
filter barrel flow over so that it would be kept wet on the outside. Our
filter was fortunately placed at a point where a good breeze struck it,
and we shoveled away the earth that had been piled around it so that the
wind playing on the wet barrel evaporated the moisture, making the water
inside very cool.


THE CANVAS BUCKET.

[Illustration: Fig. 261. Bottom of Bucket.]

This same trick was used for cooling our drinking water whenever we went
off on an expedition away from camp. We had a heavy canvas bucket, the
kind used on ships. We would fill this bucket with water and then hang
it up in the wind. The water seeping out of the pores of the bucket
would be evaporated by the wind, and this would, in a few moments, make
the water inside delightfully cool. Such buckets may be bought for $1.50
to $2.00 apiece, but ours was a home-made affair, and made somewhat
differently from the store kind. The canvas used was the heaviest we
could find. A piece 9 inches in diameter was cut out for the bottom. A
ring 7 inches in diameter, made of heavy brass wire, was laid on the
canvas, and the cloth was turned over it and sewed down the inside of
the ring. For the sides of the bucket we cut a piece 14 inches wide and
23 inches long. The upper edge was strengthened by a piece of light rope
held in place by hemming the cloth over it. The lower edge was now sewed
to the bottom, just inside the wire ring and then the ends of the piece
were joined, completing the sides of the bucket. The bail of the bucket
was formed of a piece of rope fastened to the roped upper edge of the
bucket.

[Illustration: Fig. 262. The Canvas Bucket.]

But to return to the current wheel; the day after it was completed, when
I went over to Lumberville for the mail, I was met by old Jim Halliday,
who wanted to know what sort of a rig we had out on the river. I told
him, and after a dint of much persuasion, induced him to take a ride
back in the scow with me. He had never visited our camp and hadn't
realized how handy we were with the tools, because, with the exception
of the current wheel, all our work had been done on the opposite side of
the island. We made him a guest of honor, showing him over the whole
place. The bridges struck him as remarkably clever, but what pleased him
most was our current wheel.

"I swan," he said. "Ef that ain't jest the thing I have been awantin'
for the past twenty year. What'll ye sell me the hull plant fer, boys?"


MR. HALLIDAY'S WATER WHEEL.

[Illustration: Fig. 263. Mr. Halliday's Water Wheel.]

We thought he was fooling at first, but when he had assured us that he
was in earnest, Bill told him that we needed our own plant, but we could
build him a similar and even better current wheel for any amount he
thought it was worth to him. The figure settled on was six dollars (a
dollar apiece) for our work, Mr. Halliday paying for the material. It
was not a large sum, but it seemed a lot to us, and considering the
scarcity of money in that region it was pretty generous pay. We built
Mr. Halliday's current wheel just like our own, except that the paddles
were much broader, and instead of using cans for the buckets Mr.
Halliday supplied us with small dinner pails. The method of fastening on
the pails is shown in Fig. 263. A stick was nailed across the end of
each spoke and the bail of the pail was held by a screw eye threaded
into this stick. The pails would hang straight, holding all the water
without spilling a drop until the receiving trough was reached. This
trough was fastened high enough to strike the bottom of the pails as
they went by, tipping them over and emptying them of their contents.
From the trough the water ran directly into a large cider barrel and
from here was carried through a pipe to Mr. Halliday's barn. A stopcock
was here provided so that he could turn the water on or off, as he
desired. The use of pails was a great improvement on tin can buckets.
Fully three times as much water was poured into the receiving trough,
because not a drop was spilled out on the way up.




CHAPTER XXII.

THE LOG CABIN.


Immediately after fitting out Jim Halliday with his water wheel we set
to work on our log cabin. As a model we had a photograph of a log hut
which Uncle Ed had sent us. As the cabin was designed particularly for
use in winter time, we decided that it should be located where it would
be sheltered from the northern winds and would be exposed to the sun.
The ideal spot seemed to be on the southern shore of Kite Island, which
was backed by a thick grove of trees but gave an unobstructed view in
front for a distance of about four miles down-stream.


FOUNDATION OF LOG CABIN.

First we staked out the plan of the house. It was to be 12 feet long by
10 feet wide, so we leveled off a space of this area, and at the
corners, where the greatest weight of the building would come, large
rocks were embedded in the ground.


A LOGGING EXPEDITION.

The logs for the house were cut from a tract of wooded land about five
miles up the river, belonging to Mr. Schreiner. To be sure we could have
cut the timber from our own island, but when Reddy had said something to
his father about our building a log cabin, Mr. Schreiner had warned us
not to cut down any of the trees without the owner's permission. All we
could learn about the owner was that his name was Smith, and that he
lived somewhere in New York city. It seemed unlikely that he would ever
have anything to say about our cutting down a few trees, but rather than
run any risk Mr. Schreiner advised us to make use of his woods for any
timber we might need. Accordingly we started out early one morning on a
logging expedition. We had no apparatus for handling any logs more than
6 or 8 inches in diameter, and Bill reckoned it out that we would have
to have about fifty logs of this size for the sides of the building
alone. This did not mean that fifty trees had to be chopped down,
because we could usually cut two logs from a single tree. As the logs
would have to overlap about a foot at each corner, we had to cut the
longer ones to a length of 14 feet and the others to a length of 12
feet. Aside from these we had to have several 16-foot logs for the roof.
Only the straightest logs were chosen, and while Bill and Reddy wielded
the axes the rest of us hacked off the small branches with hatchets and
hauled the sticks down the river. Here we tied them together to make a
raft.


THE LOG RAFT.

[Illustration: Fig. 264. Tying the Logs Together.]

This was done by running a pair of ropes alternately over and under the
logs at each end (see Fig. 264). About fifteen were thus fastened
together, and then as an extra precaution a log was laid across each end
of the raft and tied fast. As soon as we had cut enough timber for our
first raft, we all ceased work, to take a ride down the river on the
logs. Two of us, armed with poles, were to do the steering. There was
one spot in the river of which we were rather apprehensive. That was a
bit of shallow, swift water three miles from camp. A line of rocks
jutted up from the river, forming a natural dam which was broken only at
the eastern end. The water swirled madly through this opening, and
veering off a huge rock which lay directly in front of the gap turned
sharply westward. As we neared this dam the river became deeper and
deeper, until finally we could no longer reach bottom with the poles,
and could not properly steer the boat. For some time we drifted
helplessly round and round in the still water above the dam. Then
suddenly the current caught us and we swept like a shot for the opening.
The gap was quite wide, and had we only thought to provide ourselves
with oars we could have steered the raft clear of the rocks below, but
we were entirely at the mercy of the current, and with a terrific crash
we were hurled head on against the boulder.

[Illustration: Getting Dinner.]

[Illustration: The Photo after which Our Log Cabin was Modeled.]

Just what happened then I can not say. When I undertook to record the
incident in the chronicles of the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I., I found
there were five entirely different versions of the affair besides my
own. I knew that immediately after the shock I found myself struggling
in the water just below the rock over which I must have been slung by
the force of the impact. Dutchy declared up and down that he had sailed
fifty feet in the air astride of a log. Bill had been almost stunned by
a blow on the head and was clinging desperately to a jagged projection
of the rock. The ropes that had held the raft together had parted,
scattering the logs in all directions, and I could see the rest of the
crew hanging on to them for dear life.

Shouting to Bill to let go his hold on the rock. I swam over and caught
him as he drifted down, then I helped him ashore. Leaving Bill to
recuperate I rushed down the bank, shouting to the others to paddle the
logs over toward shore. Then I plunged in, and pulling myself up on the
nearest log, paddled shoreward as we had done on the planks when
shooting the rapids. In this way one by one we corralled the logs, and
after tying them together again resumed our voyage down the river. We
now had no swift water to fear and were able to guide the raft
successfully down to Lake Placid. But here we moored it, not venturing
to take it past the mill-race until we had gotten the oars from the scow
and nailed on oar locks at each side and the rear, so that we could
properly row and steer the raft safely to Kite Island.


THE SAIL-RIGGED RAFT.

[Illustration: Fig. 265. A Sail-rigged Raft.]

When we went up the river again we carried the oars with us, also the
sail and mast belonging to our ice boat, as there was a good breeze
blowing down-stream. Our second trip was more successful. The mast was
stepped in a small but solid box nailed to the logs. In the top of this
box a hole was cut for the mast to fit into and then the mast was braced
with guy lines. We came down the river in fine style, steering straight
for the opening in the dam, and just as we were about to shoot through
Reddy and I plied the oars for all we were worth on the port (left) side
so as to swing the raft around past the boulder. However, we didn't
escape entirely without accident, for the raft rode up on a submerged
ledge, dipping the starboard side clear under water and nearly tipping
us over. But in a moment the raft had righted itself and we had smooth
sailing for the rest of the way.


BUILDING THE LOG CABIN.

[Illustration: Fig. 266. Foundation Logs Notched.]

[Illustration: Fig. 267. Foundation Logs Fitted Together.]

[Illustration: Fig. 268. A Corner of the Log Wall.]

Our third expedition completed the number of logs we required for the
log cabin. Two large 12-foot logs were chosen for the foundation logs at
the front and rear of the building. The logs were flattened along the
bottom so that they would have a firmer bearing on the ground, and
particularly on the corners, where they rested on foundation stones.
Each log was now notched about a foot from the ends. The notches were 8
inches long and about 2 inches deep. Care was taken to place those on
one log squarely opposite the notches on the other. A pair of 14-foot
logs were now laid across the foundation logs and rolled along them
until another half-turn would have dropped them into the notches (shown
in Fig. 266). Then notches were cut in the 14-foot logs to correspond,
so that when the final half-turn was given one notch would fit over the
other, making a mortise joint (Fig. 267). When the side logs were in
position notches were cut in their upper surface to receive a pair of
12-foot logs which were rolled onto them, notched and dropped into
place. Then another pair of side logs were laid on, and so the work
progressed. The notches in each log were cut to a depth equal to
one-quarter the diameter of the log; that is, if the log was 8 inches in
diameter the notch was made 2 inches deep, and if 6 inches in diameter
it was cut to a depth of 1-1/2 inches. When the logs were laid in place
no space intervened between them, as will be clearly understood by
reference to Fig. 268.

We found, after a few logs had been set in place, that our cabin was
growing faster at one end than at the other. The trouble was that our
logs were not of uniform diameter throughout, and we had been laying the
butt ends, which were larger, all at one end of the building. So we had
to take down the logs and relay them with the butt end of the front
foundation log at one end and that of the rear foundation log at the
other. Then the cross logs were laid on with their butt ends on the
small ends of the foundation logs. The next end logs were laid with
their small ends on the butt ends of the cross logs, and so on, taking
care never to lay the butt end of one log across the butt end of
another. In this way the walls were built up evenly to a height of 3
feet.

[Illustration: Fig. 269. Piece Cut Out to Admit Saw.]

We had planned to make a large open fireplace in the cabin, and this
necessitated cutting an opening in the rear wall. But we did not want to
cut the opening until the wall was built up to its full height lest it
might buckle while the remainder of the logs were being placed in
position. So we merely cut a piece out of the top log to make room for a
saw when we were ready to cut the complete opening. As our fireplace was
to be 5 feet in width, a 5-foot piece was cut out of the center of the
log. Then the ends were supported by cleats nailed on each side, as
shown in Fig. 269. This done the building was continued as before, but
as the walls grew we found it more and more difficult to raise the logs
to position. We could not lift them directly to the top of the wall, but
had to roll them up on "skids"; that is, on a pair of 14-foot logs which
were laid against the top of the wall. When the walls had reached a
height of about 5 feet above the foundation logs, a length 4 feet 9
inches long was cut out of the top log to allow space for sawing out the
front door and window, and also a 30-inch piece was cut out for the side
window. Cleats temporarily held the sawed ends of the logs, while the
walls were carried on up to a height of a little over 6 feet from the
foundation logs.


THE ROOF OF THE LOG CABIN.

[Illustration: Fig. 270. Skids]

Then we started laying the roof. A 16-foot log was now notched in place
at each side, with its forward end projecting about 3 feet over the
front of the cabin to form a shelter in front of the building. A pair of
12-foot logs were then laid in position. The next pair of 16-foot logs
were laid about 20 inches in from the sides, and after a pair of the
cross logs had been set in place a third pair of logs were laid about 40
inches from the sides. Finally, a single 16-foot log was set in place at
the center, to serve as the ridge beam of the roof. The roof logs were
all carefully tested to see if they were sound before we laid them in
place, because we did not want to run any risk of the roof falling in,
particularly in the winter time, when it would be heavily covered with
snow. A chalk line was drawn from the ridge beam to the lower roof beam,
and the cross logs were sawed off along this line, as indicated in Fig.
271. Several slabs were now procured and laid across the roof beams to
serve as rafters. These rafters projected about 18 inches beyond the
side walls of the cabin, so as to support the eaves. Over the rafters we
laid a roofing of slabs, starting with the bottom and lapping them, as
we had done on our tree house.

[Illustration: Fig. 271. How the Roof Logs were Laid.]


THE DOOR AND WINDOW FRAMES.

We were now ready to cut out and frame the doors and window openings.
The front window of the cabin was to be close beside the door, so we
merely widened the door opening at the top to include the window opening
as well (see Figs. 271 and 272). The door was made 2-1/2 feet wide, and
was cut down to the foundation logs. The window opening was cut to a
depth of 24 inches. Before sawing out the opening we wedged pieces of
wood between the logs along the line we were to follow with the saw, so
as to keep them in place. After the opening had been made a couple of
stout boards were nailed to the sawed ends of the logs at each side, to
hold them securely in place and make a suitable framing for the door.
The cleats were then removed. The foundation log and the one at the top
of the opening were flattened, to serve as the sill and lintel of the
door. Between the door and window a short post was wedged in place. This
post was flattened on opposite sides, so that the door jamb could be
nailed against it on one side and the window frame on the other. The
side window was next cut out and framed. After it had been framed it
measured 2 feet square.

[Illustration: Fig. 272. The Finished Roof.]


THE FIREPLACE.

Then came the task of building our fireplace. First we sawed out the
opening, cutting right through the rear foundation log. Then we gathered
from the river a large number of the flattest stones we could find. With
these we planned to build the three outer walls of our chimney. But the
question of getting mortar to bind the stones together bothered us for a
while.

"If only we could find a bed of clay. Don't any of you know of one
around here?" queried Bill.

But none of us remembered seeing any clay bed in the vicinity.

"If we were in south Jersey now," I said, "we could use some of that red
mud they have down there. It sticks like the mischief to shoes and pant
legs. I bet it would hold those stones together."

"Red mud? Why there's plenty of it over the hill, back of Lumberville,"
said Reddy. "All the roads over there are red shale roads, and I saw
some red banks along the river when we went after the logs."

That was just what we wanted. The banks Reddy referred to turned out to
be genuine red shale, and soon we had ferried several scow loads of the
stuff down to Kite Island. When the shale was wet it made quite a sticky
mortar. The foundations of the chimney were laid in a trench about 2
feet deep, and the side walls of the chimney were carried inside of the
cabin and covered the ends of the logs at the chimney opening. The side
walls extended outward a distance of 3 feet, where they were joined by
the rear wall of the chimney.


THE PROPER WAY TO BUILD A STONE WALL.

In making our chimney we could not rely on the red shale to hold the
stones as firmly as good lime mortar would, so we had to be careful that
each stone, as it was laid, had a firm bearing. The stones were embedded
in a thick layer of mud, and if they showed any tendency to teeter we
propped them up by wedging small stones under them until they lay solid.
Another thing that we were very careful about was to "break joints";
that is, to keep the joints in each layer of the stones from coinciding
with those in the next layer, above or below. To make sure of this we
made it a point to lay a stone over each joint in the top of the wall
and then to fill in the space between the stones with smaller stones. In
this way the wall was made very substantial.

[Illustration: Fig. 273. How to Build a Wall.]

When the masonry had been carried up to the top of the chimney opening,
a heavy timber about 12 inches wide was laid across the walls close
against the wall of the building. This was to support the fourth wall of
the chimney, and so we flattened its upper surface. To prevent it from
catching fire it was covered with a thick plastering of mud, and then to
keep the mud from cracking and flaking off we procured a piece of tin
and tacked it over the log. The tin also extended over the top log of
the opening. Then we went on with the building of the chimney walls,
carrying them up about a foot above the ridge of the roof. Our chimney
was completed by paving the bottom with stones, well packed in mud and
nicely smoothed off to make the hearth. The hearth extended about 18
inches into the cabin, and was framed with logs, as shown in Fig. 275.


THE FLOOR OF THE CABIN.

A number of logs were now laid on the ground to serve as floor beams.
Slabs were used for the floor. We had some trouble in making the floor
perfectly even, because the floor beams were rather irregular, and a
great deal of time was spent in smoothing the logs off to a common
level. If we had the work to do over again we would have bought two or
three planks and laid them on edge to support the flooring.

[Illustration: Fig. 274. Building the Chimney.]

[Illustration: Fig. 275. Section through the Fireplace.]


THE DOOR HINGES AND LATCH.

[Illustration: Fig. 276. The Door Hinges.]

[Illustration: Fig. 277. The Latch Guard.]

[Illustration: Fig. 278. Door Catch.]

A door was now constructed by battening together a number of slabs. In
place of a hinge a hole was drilled into the sill and another into the
lintel directly in line with it. Two sticks of wood were then whittled
to fit snugly, but without jamming, into these holes. These sticks were
then nailed to the inner face of the door, with their whittled ends
projecting into the holes, forming pintles on which the door could turn.
A narrow strip of wood was nailed to the outer jamb for the door to
close against. The latch consisted of a stick of wood, fastened to the
door at one end with a nail. It hooked onto a catch whittled out of hard
wood to the form illustrated in Fig. 278, and nailed to the jamb. Then
to keep the latch from dropping too far when the door was open, and to
guide it when slammed against the catch, we whittled out a guard piece
to the form illustrated in Fig. 277, and nailed this to the door, with
the latch projecting through the slot of the guard. A string was now
fastened to the latch and passed through a hole in the door. A block was
tied to the end of the latch string to prevent it from slipping back
through the hole; but at night, when we did not want to be molested by
any intruders, we untied the block and drew in the latch string.


THE WINDOW SASH.

[Illustration: Fig. 279. The Latch.]

For our windows we made wooden sashes which fitted nicely into the
window openings. A small hole was drilled through the sash at each side
into the frame, and nails inserted in these holes held the sash in
place, and served also as hinge pins for the sash to turn on. The sash
could be taken out at any time by removing these nails. As we could not
afford to use glass for our windows, we covered the sashes first with
cloth, and later, when it occurred to us that in winter time it would be
difficult to keep the cold air out, we used oiled paper.


BUNKS.

[Illustration: Fig. 280. Hinged Window Sash.]

[Illustration: Fig. 281. Bunks.]

Our next work was directed toward providing sleeping accommodations in
the log cabin. A large log was laid on the floor the full length of the
cabin, as far out as possible without interfering with the opening of
the front door. Stakes were laid across this log, with their opposite
ends wedged in between the logs of the wall. A nail or two in each slab
held it in place. This formed a sort of shelf 12 feet long, which was
divided at the center to form two bunks, each wide enough for two
persons. But as there were six of us in the society, we had to provide
two more berths. A stout post was set into a hole in the ground, and
nailed firmly at the bottom to the lower berth log and at the top to one
of the roof beams. This post supported a second berth log, which
extended the full length of the building at a height of about 3 feet
from the floor, and was wedged at the ends between the logs of the
house. Cleats were nailed to the walls under this berth log to make it
perfectly secure. Then slabs were nailed across it to form the two
bunks.


STOPPING UP THE CHINKS.

The log cabin was completed by stopping up all the chinks between the
logs of the walls. Strips of wood and bits of bark plastered with mud
were driven into all the cracks and crevices until everything was made
perfectly tight.




CHAPTER XXIII.

THE WINDMILL.


When our log cabin was completed we immediately transferred our camp
from the tent to the hut. But at the very outset we were confronted with
the problem of getting drinking water. We hadn't thought of that before.
It was easy enough to move the filter barrels, but when it came to
moving the water wheel we could find no suitable place for it anywhere
near the log cabin. The water of Lake Placid was too quiet, while the
mill-race and the rapids on the other side of Kite Island ran so swiftly
that we were afraid the water wheel would be swept away with its course.
The matter was carefully considered at a special meeting of the society.
It occurred to Bill that we might build a windmill in place of the water
wheel, and use it to pump water from a well which could be dug near the
hut.

"We wouldn't have to use a filter, then," he said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Why, because the sand of the island will strain out all the dirt in the
water. You see, the water in the well will have to soak in from the
river, and by the time it gets through all the gravel and sand between
the river and the well it ought to be filtered pretty clear."


DIGGING THE WELL.

[Illustration: Fig. 282. Digging the Well.]

That sounded logical, and so we adopted the plan at once. We chose a
spot quite near the hut for our well. When we had dug down about 6 feet
we struck water, but continued excavating until the water lay 3 feet
deep in the well. While making the excavation we shored up the sides
with planks, to prevent the loose soil from falling in on us and
smothering us, as it so nearly did when we were digging our first cave.
By "shoring," I mean we lined the walls with planks, which were driven
into the ground with large wooden mallets. The planks were braced apart
with sticks at frequent intervals. As the well hole grew deeper we had
to rig up a bucket to haul the dirt out. Our bucket was a soap box
attached to a rope, which passed through a pulley at the top of the
well. The pulley was supported by a tripod made by firmly lashing
together the upper ends of three stout poles and spreading their lower
ends far enough apart to straddle the mouth of the well, as shown in
Fig. 282. After the well had been carried down to a sufficient depth, we
began laying the stone wall, which was to form the permanent lining. We
knew that the wooden walls would not do, because they would soon decay.
Our stone wall, which was built up of flat stones like the chimney of
the log house, was not very strong, I fear, and had not the soil around
it been pretty firm it would probably have caved in. However, if it
served no other purpose, it formed a fairly good finish for the well.


THE WINDMILL TOWER.

[Illustration: Fig. 283. Frame for the Tower.]

The mouth of the well was carefully covered with planks while we
constructed the windmill above it. For the tower of the windmill we
chose four long sticks. They must have measured about 16 feet in length,
and were from 4 to 6 inches in diameter. With them we made two frames of
the form given in Fig. 283, using slabs to brace them apart. These
frames were now set in position, with their lower ends firmly planted in
holes in the ground, and the tower was completed by nailing on a number
of diagonal braces. A couple of boards were nailed across the upper ends
at opposite sides, and holes were drilled through them to provide
bearings for the wind wheel shaft.


THE CRANK SHAFT.

[Illustration: Fig. 284. The Crank Shaft.]

The shaft was a piece of heavy iron rod which we procured from the
blacksmith at Lumberville. Under Bill's direction the blacksmith
hammered a U-shaped bend at the center of the shaft, so as to form a
crank, and then he flattened the rod near the ends (see Fig. 284). When
the shaft was set in its place these flat spots lay just outside of the
bearing boards, and then, to keep the shaft from sliding back and forth
in its bearings, we fastened on two clamps over these flattened parts.
The clamps were made of pairs of hardwood blocks bolted together in the
manner indicated in Fig. 285.


THE WIND WHEEL.

[Illustration: Fig. 285. A Clamp.]

[Illustration: Fig. 286. Wedge for Wind Wheel.]

[Illustration: Fig. 287. Spokes of Wind Wheel.]

[Illustration: Fig. 288. Wind Wheel Blade.]

Our next task was to construct the wind wheel. First we procured three
boards, each 3 inches wide and 3-1/2 feet long. A 1/2-inch hole was
drilled in the center of each board, and then, with these holes
coinciding, the boards were nailed together, with their ends projecting,
like spokes, equally distant from each other. Six wedges were now made
of the size indicated in Fig. 286. These were made of a 2 x 4-inch
scantling, sawed diagonally in two and then planed down to the given
dimensions. The wedges were now nailed firmly to the spokes, as shown in
Fig. 286. For the blades we used six thin boards, each about 4 feet
long. Each blade measured 10 inches in width at the outer end, and
tapered down to a width of 3 inches at the inner end, as illustrated in
Fig. 288. The blades were now securely nailed to the wedges, and their
outer ends were braced together by means of wires stretched from the
forward edge of each blade to the rear edge of the next one ahead. The
wheel was then fitted onto the shaft and nailed to one of the clamps. In
this way it was practically keyed to the shaft.

We did not make any vane for our windmill. It did not need any. The wind
nearly always blew either up or down the river, more often up the river,
for the prevailing summer winds in that part of the country are
southerly. But, aside from that, east and west winds could not very well
reach us on account of the hills on both sides of the river. The wheel
was set facing the north, because the strongest winds came from that
direction, and as an extra brace against these winds we stretched wires
from the projecting end of the shaft to the center of each blade.


A SIMPLE BREAK.

[Illustration: Fig. 289. The Wind Wheel.]

A brisk northerly wind was blowing when we set the wheel in place, and
it began to revolve at once, before we could nail it to the clamp. To
stop it we nailed a stick of wood to the tower, so that its end
projected in the path of the blades and kept the wheel from turning
around. This brake was swung up to the dotted position illustrated when
we were ready to have the wheel revolve, but it could be thrown down at
any time to stop it.


THE PUMP.

[Illustration: Fig. 290. Side View of the Wind Wheel, showing Brake.]

Our pump was made of a galvanized leader pipe; that is, a pipe used to
carry off rain water from the roof of the house. The pipe was only about
8 feet long, and so we had to piece it out with a long wooden box pipe.
A block closed the lower end of this box, and the leader pipe fitted
snugly into a hole in the block (Fig. 291). A spout was set into the
upper end of the box pipe to carry the water to the cask, which was to
serve as our water reservoir.


THE PUMP VALVES.

[Illustration: Fig. 291. The Box Pipe.]

[Illustration: Fig. 292. The Lower Valve.]

[Illustration: Fig. 293. The Piston Valve.]

We plugged the bottom of the leader pipe with a block of wood, in the
center of which a large hole was drilled. The hole was covered with a
piece of leather nailed at one side, so that it could lift up to let
water into the pipe. The piston was made of a disk of wood of slightly
smaller diameter than the inside of the pipe, and over it was fastened a
piece of leather just large enough to fit snugly against the walls of
the pipe. This piston was fastened to a wooden rod long enough to reach
from well within the pipe to the wind wheel shaft. A strip of brass was
bent over the crank, or U-shaped bend in the shaft, and its ends were
fastened to the rod.

[Illustration: The Old Windmill at Work on a Lumberville Farm.]


ACTION OF THE PUMP.

[Illustration: Fig. 294. Connection of Rod and Crank.]

It was rather a crude pump, but it did all the work we required of it.
As the wheel went around the crank shaft would move the piston up and
down. Whenever the piston went down, the air in the pipe would press up
the edges of the leather disk and squeeze past (see Fig. 295). Then when
the piston came up again, the leather disk, being backed by the wooden
disk beneath it, was kept flat, so that no air could force its way back
into the pipe. This made a partial vacuum in the pipe, and the water
from the well rushed up through the valve at the bottom to fill it (see
Fig. 296). When next the piston went down the bottom valve closed and
more air forced its way past the piston. Then on the next upward stroke
more water flowed into the pipe, until, after a number of strokes, all
the air was pumped out and the water which took its place began to force
its way up past the piston and eventually to flow out of the spout into
the cask.

Our old windmill was sold to a farmer near Lumberville when we broke
camp that fall. We carted it over and set it up for him. A number of
years later I saw it still faithfully at work pumping water for his
cattle. The original pump had been worn out and a new one substituted,
but otherwise the old windmill remained just as we had first rigged it
up.

[Illustration: Fig. 295. Fig. 296. Action of the Pump.]




CHAPTER XXIV.

THE GRAVITY RAILROAD.


"About all we lack now," said Dutchy, when the windmill had been
completed, "is a railroad."

"Then suppose we build one," was Bill's unexpected rejoinder.

We all thought he was joking, but he wasn't.

"I don't mean a steam railroad," he said, "but a gravity railroad."

"A what?"

"A gravity railroad. Oh, you know what that is--a roller toboggan--the
kind they have down at Coney Island." And he went on to explain how we
could rig up a simple roller toboggan on our island.

His plan was to build an inclined trestle on the high ground just below
the lagoon, and then run wooden tracks along the shore down to the
pontoon bridge, and across the mill-race to Kite Island. We started
first to dig a road down to the bridge, because the bank was quite high
at this point. The task was rather greater than we anticipated, but we
kept steadily at it until we had cut a fairly good road through the
bank, though the grade was rather steep.

Before proceeding with the trestle and track we thought the best plan
would be to build our car, and then we could use it as a gauge to
determine how far apart the rails should be set.


THE CAR.

[Illustration: Fig. 297. Putting the Car Body Together.]

First we got a 2 x 4-inch scantling, and cut from it two lengths, each 4
feet 6 inches long. These were laid on edge just 30 inches apart, and
then a number of boards were nailed across from one scantling to the
other and sawed off flush with their edges. The floor thus formed was
now turned over so that the scantlings lay uppermost and the sides of
the car were then nailed on with their edges overlapping the ends of the
floor boards. The sides, which were about 18 inches high, were each made
of two boards firmly battened together. Great care was taken to securely
nail both the flooring and the sides to the scantlings, because these
scantlings were to carry the wheels of the car. The car body was
completed by nailing on the end pieces which overlapped both the
flooring and the side walls.


THE FLANGED WHEELS.

[Illustration: Fig. 298. The Car Wheel.]

Next we sawed out the wheels of our car. From a board of hardwood 3/4 of
an inch thick four disks, 12 inches in diameter, were sawed out. Then
from a board 1 inch thick four 9-inch disks were sawed out. We cut these
disks in the same way as we had made the disks for our surveying rod
(see page 78), by making cuts across corners and finally smoothing off
the angles with a draw-knife. A half-inch hole was now drilled in the
center of each disk. Then on each large disk a smaller one was placed,
with the center holes of the two coinciding and the grain of one lying
across the grain of the other. In this position they were firmly nailed
together, making a wheel like those used on a railway car, with the
small disc forming the tread of the wheel and the large disk serving as
a flange.


THE CAR AXLES.

[Illustration: Fig. 299. Car Body with Axles in Place.]

For the car axles we bought four 1/2-inch bolts, 6 inches long, with two
washers and two nuts for each bolt. In each side of the car, about 8
inches from the ends, we nailed face blocks; that is, blocks of wood for
the wheels to bear against. These face blocks were only 1/2 inch thick.
Then in these blocks holes were drilled which were carried clear through
the scantling. The holes were just large enough for the bolts to fit
snugly in them. The bolts were inserted from the inside, so that their
threaded ends projected out at each side of the car. A patch of wood was
nailed to the scantling over each bolt head to prevent the bolt from
slipping back into the car. Then the wheels were mounted on these bolts,
which served as axles.


MOUNTING THE WHEELS.

[Illustration: Fig. 300. Section Showing How to Fasten on the Wheel.]

First a washer was placed on the axle, then the wheel was applied, with
the larger or flange disk against the face block, after which another
washer was slipped on. A nut was screwed against this washer just
tightly enough to keep the wheel snugly in place, and yet let it turn
freely on its axle. Then to keep this nut from shaking loose a second
nut was screwed on against it. While one fellow held the first nut from
turning, another screwed the second nut against it as tightly as he
could. The second nut is technically known as a "jam nut," or "lock
nut." The car was completed by laying a couple of boards across from one
scantling to the other to serve as seats.


THE RAILWAY TRACK.

[Illustration: Fig. 301. The Inclined Trestle.]

[Illustration: Fig. 302. Joints of the Track.]

The trestle was now begun. First we erected a level platform, which was
to be the starting point of the railway. This was made very substantial
by planting the corner posts firmly in the ground and then bracing them
together with diagonal braces. A couple of planks leaning against the
platform at one side provided a convenient means for mounting to the
top. From the platform the trestle ran down at an easy incline to the
ground. It was made of 2 x 4-inch scantlings supported at intervals on
posts driven into the ground. The opposite posts were firmly braced with
boards fastened diagonally across them. The scantlings were to serve as
rails, and so we fastened them at the proper distance apart with ties
nailed to the under side. But to be sure that the rails were not too far
apart or too close together, the car was rolled over the track and the
rails were set to keep the tread disks of the wheels on them and the
flange disks just clear of their inner edges. The ends of the rails were
cut off at an angle, making a slanting joint, as shown in Figs. 301 and
302. They were fastened firmly together by nailing a piece of board on
the bottom and also on the outer side.


THE CARPENTER'S MITER BOX.

[Illustration: Fig. 303. Carpenter's Miter Box.]

To make sure that the ends were all cut to the same angle, we made a
carpenter's "miter box." Two sideboards were nailed to a baseboard,
making a trough large enough for the scantling to be set in it. Then we
sawed through the sides of the trough at an angle of 45 degrees. When we
wanted to cut the end of the scantling at an angle it was placed in the
trough, and with the saw set in the saw cuts, as a guide, we were sure
that they would all be cut at the same angle.


LAYING THE TRACK.

[Illustration: Fig. 304. How the Track was Anchored.]

From the bottom of the inclined trestleway we continued the track down
the slope to the river; but for the sake of economy, instead of using 2
x 4-inch scantlings for the rails, we bought a number of 2-inch planks
at Lumberville, and had them sawed up into strips 2 inches wide. These
2-inch square rails were fastened together with slabs nailed on at
frequent intervals. To maintain the proper gauge the car was rolled over
each pair of rails, which were nailed first at the ends and center. To
anchor the track we drove short posts into the ground so that their
upper ends lay flush with the surface. A post was provided under each
joint and one under the center of each rail, and then the slab ties were
nailed securely to these posts. In imitation of a full-sized railway, we
made it a point to "break joints" on our track; that is, to make the end
of one rail come in line with the center of the opposite rail, as shown
in Fig. 302. Our track was continued across the pontoon bridge and ran
around the west shore of Kite Island. The track was straight as far as
the shore of Kite Island, whence, by an easy curve, it was carried
around to the log cabin.


THE FIRST RAILWAY ACCIDENT.

Dutchy was the first one to try the railway. He sneaked back to the
platform while the rest of us were putting a few last touches on the
track. The first we knew the car came tearing down the track at full
speed, with Dutchy yelling at the top of his voice for us to get out of
his way. Bill was on the bridge when the car came along and he had no
time to run for shore, but with great presence of mind he jumped into
the water and clung to one of the barrels. But the joke of it all was
that Dutchy himself got a wetting too. The track at the middle of the
bridge was not quite true to gauge. It was this very spot that Bill was
fixing up when Dutchy came along. The end of a rail was bent in far
enough to catch the flange of one of the car wheels, and in a moment
Dutchy, car and all, was slung head over heels into the mill-race.
Fortunately no serious harm was done. Dutchy landed a little ways
down-stream, and Reddy, by quick work, managed to rescue the car just as
it was floating off under the suspension bridge. The car was undamaged
except that the flange of a wheel was split off.

Of course, Bill was as mad as a hornet at Dutchy, and expressed his
feelings in no mild terms. But his anger was somewhat tempered by the
fact that Dutchy received as bad a punishment as he had inflicted.

[Illustration: The Start of the Gravity Railroad.]


TESTING THE TRACK.

We had to cut a new flange disk for the broken wheel, and to prevent the
flanges from splitting off again we nailed a batten across the inner
face of each wheel extending down to the very edge of the flange disk.
This batten was fastened on across the grain. When everything was
completed the car was started down the track empty to see if it would
keep the rails. It went beautifully as far as the bridge, but was too
light to run much beyond. The next time we loaded it up with stones and
had the pleasure of watching it sail down hill, across the bridge and
vanish out of sight around the shore of Kite Island. That was
demonstration enough. We knew it would carry us safely and it did. The
next time we tried it four of us piled into the small car, and in a
moment we were off on a most thrilling ride, which ended right in front
of the log cabin, where the car came to a sudden stop after riding off
the end of the rails and plowing through the sand for a short space.




CHAPTER XXV.

THE CANTILEVER BRIDGE.


There is one more piece of work done by our society which yet remains to
be described, and that is the cantilever bridge. This we all voted to be
the greatest of our achievements on the island. To be sure, it was Uncle
Ed's design, but I think we justly deserve credit for the masterful way
in which it was erected. In our search for types of bridges before
building the king post bridge, we came across a simple cantilever bridge
that didn't look very difficult to construct. To be sure, none of us
knew a thing about stresses and strains, and ingenious though we were,
Bill realized that the task of designing a cantilever bridge was far
beyond him. Nevertheless, we were sure we could build one if only we had
a good set of plans. A letter was therefore mailed to Uncle Ed, asking
him for the required details. The answer came promptly from Western
Australia, asking us to send him the exact width of the water we wished
to span, the depth of the water, the distance from the top of one bank
to the top of the other, and the exact height of the banks above water
level. We decided we would build the bridge across the mouth of the
lagoon. The distance here between the two banks measured a little over
60 feet. The banks were very precipitous, and rose 13-1/2 feet above the
level of the water. All these details, together with soundings of the
bottom, all the way across, were sent to Uncle Ed, and on the day after
our railway was completed quite a bulky package was received in answer.
It contained complete directions for building the bridge of wooden
frames, which were so designed that they needed merely to be hooked
together to form the bridge, though to make the structure perfectly safe
Uncle Ed cautioned us to tie the frames together wherever they met.

I am half afraid to tell my readers how to build this bridge, as it
required the utmost care, and had to be built just so to avoid disaster.
Bridge building is a serious business, and I would not advise any one to
attempt building this, of all bridges, who does not propose to follow
instructions implicitly. Uncle Ed told us that if we built it properly,
and with sound timbers, we would find the bridge strong enough to
support a dozen boys, but he warned us not to crowd more than that
number on it.


FRAMES FOR THE CANTILEVER BRIDGE.

[Illustration: Fig. 305. A Frame (make four).]

[Illustration: Fig. 306. B Frame (make four).]

[Illustration: Fig. 307. C Frame (make four).]

[Illustration: Fig. 308. D Frame (make four).]

The frames with which the cantilever bridge was built were made of
saplings from 3 to 4 inches in diameter. We procured them from Mr.
Schreiner's lands up the river. In making the frames the sticks were
fastened together with 1/2-inch bolts 6 inches long. It was quite a
strain on our pocketbooks to buy these bolts, but Uncle Ed had written
that nails or spikes would be useless to stand the strains of so large
a bridge, and that if we could not get any bolts we had better give
up the idea of building a cantilever bridge. To make sure that we
made no mistakes, Uncle Ed had made a drawing of each different
size of frame we would need, designating each with a different
letter, and then these same letters were marked on a general
view of the bridge, so that we would know exactly where the
frames belonged. These drawings are reproduced here in Figs. 305
to 316 and 318. We had to make four frames each, of the _A_, _B_,
_C_ and _E_ sizes, two each of the _F_, _G_ and _L_ sizes and
one each of the _H_, _I_, _J_ and _K_ sizes. Of the _D_ frames
two were made with the ends cut away on the outer half, as illustrated
in Fig. 308, and two were cut away at the inner side, the reason for
which will appear presently. When fastening the timbers together we cut
notches in each stick, as shown in Fig. 317. The depth of each notch was
just one-quarter the diameter of the stick; that is, the notch was 3/4
of an inch deep in a 3-inch stick and 1 inch deep in a 4-inch stick.
Care was taken not to exceed this depth, for fear of weakening the
sticks. In the case of frame _D_, the sticks were not notched or
mortised together. It will be noticed that the measurements are given to
the inner edges of the sticks in some cases, and to the outer edges in
others. The reason for this, as Uncle Ed explained it, was because
the thickness of our sticks would vary considerably, and it was
important that many of the measurements be exact, otherwise the
frames would not fit into each other as they should. Another
thing to which he called our attention was the fact that frames
_A_, _B_, _E_, _F_, _H_, _K_ and _L_ were stiffened with cross
braces, while the rest were not. The braced frames, he wrote, were those
which would be under a compression strain, while the others would be
under tension; that is, when any weight was placed on the bridge it
would push against the ends of the braced frames, trying to crush them,
but would pull on the unbraced frames, trying to tear them apart. In
fact, the bridge would have been just as strong had we used heavy iron
wire in place of the unbraced frames, and the only reason Uncle Ed did
not recommend our doing so was because we had no simple way of
stretching the wire taut.

[Illustration: Fig. 309. E Frame (make four).]

[Illustration: Fig. 310. F Frame (make two).]

[Illustration: Fig. 311. G Frame (make two).]

[Illustration: Fig. 312. H Frame (make one).]

[Illustration: Fig. 313. I Frame (make one).]

[Illustration: Fig. 314. J Frame (make one).]

[Illustration: Fishing off the Cantilever Bridge.]

[Illustration: The Cantilever Bridge in Reddy's Back Yard.]


ERECTING THE TOWERS.

[Illustration: Fig. 315. K Frame (make one).]

[Illustration: Fig. 316. L Frame (make two).]

[Illustration: Fig. 317. Notching the Sticks Together.]

We built the complete set of frames before attempting to erect the
bridge. Then we began by building the towers. Two _A_ frames were
set on end and spaced 4 feet apart at the top and 5 feet apart at the
bottom, measuring not from the inner but from the outer edges of the
frames. In this position they were connected by short spars, notched in
place. The notches for these connecting spars will be seen in Fig. 305
on the main or vertical timbers of frame _A_, just below the upper
and middle cross sticks and above the lower cross sticks. The upper
connecting spars were wedged tightly under the cross sticks, and served
as an additional support for them. Diagonal braces were nailed from one
frame to the other, as illustrated in Fig. 318. The towers were built on
opposite banks, at the mouth of the lagoon, and when completed we
lowered them carefully down the banks into the water. According to
directions they were to be set just 30 feet apart, measuring from the
center of one tower to the center of the other. The water was quite
shallow where the towers rested, but the bottom was pretty firm. Holes
were dug in the bottom for the legs of the tower to set into, and then
large stones were piled around each leg to provide a firm foundation for
the towers.


SETTING UP THE FRAMES.

[Illustration: Fig. 318. View of Part of the Bridge, with Letters
Indicating the Various Frames.]

A _B_ frame was now hauled out to one of the towers and lifted by
its narrower end, with fall and tackle, until its lower tie piece rested
on the projecting ends of the center crosspieces of the tower. The upper
end of the frame was held against the top of the tower, while a _C_
frame was hooked over the upper ends of the tower legs; then frame
_B_ was allowed to swing outward until its smaller end locked with
the outer end of frame _C_. It will be observed in Fig. 306 that
the upper crosspiece or tie piece of frame _B_ was fastened to one
side of the vertical sticks and the lower tie piece to the other side.
This was done purposely, so that when the frame was set in position the
bottom tie piece would be on the lower side of the frame and the top
piece would lie on the upper side, as shown in Fig 318, or, better
still, in Fig. 319. The rest of the frames were all arranged to be set
in place with their tie pieces on the lower side, or facing the towers,
as will be clearly understood by examining the illustrations. As
soon as the _B_ and _C_ frames were set up on one side of the
tower, another pair of _B_ and _C_ frames was set up on the other
side of the same tower. A cantilever bridge must always be built
out on both sides of the tower at the same time, otherwise it
will be overbalanced on one side and topple over. After the
_B_ and _C_ frames were in place we took two _D_ frames, with
oppositely cut ends, and rested their tie sticks on the top of the
tower, just under the ends of the _C_ frames. The ends of the two
_D_ frames overlapped at the center of the tower, and, as one was
cut away at the outer side and the other at the inner side, they fitted
neatly together and were fastened with bolts. The _D_ frames were
supported near their outer ends with _E_ frames, which rested
on the _B_ and _C_ frames. Fig. 319 shows an _E_ frame set
in position on the landward side of the tower, while two of the boys
are climbing out on the opposite _B_ and _C_ frames preparatory to
setting up the other _E_ frame. A cross stick was now bolted to
each _D_ frame, just beyond the upper ends of the _E_ sticks.
This done, the frame _F_ was hooked in between the ends of _B_
and _C_, at the shoreward side of the tower, and its outer ends
were supported by frame _G_, which was hooked over frame _D_
and the upper ends of frame _E_. The frame _L_ was then rested
on the ends of frame _F_ and _G_, and supported the shore end
of frame _D_. A stick nailed across frame _D_ on each side of
the upper ends of frame _L_ served to hold the latter in place.


BINDING AND ANCHORING THE STRUCTURE.

[Illustration: Fig. 319. Preparing to Put an E Frame in Place.]

As the different frames were coupled together, we bound the overlapping
ends with soft iron wire. The place where frames _B_, _C_,
_E_ and _F_ came together was quite a vital point, and we took
pains to make the wire binding at this place doubly strong. As soon as
the _L_ frame was in place we anchored the bridge to shore by
running wires from the ends of the _D_ frame and the ends of the
_G_ frame to stakes driven into the banks. The frames on the second
tower were now similarly erected and anchored, after which we were ready
to put in the center panels of the bridge.


THE CENTER PANELS OF THE BRIDGE.

First, the frame _H_ was wedged into place and thoroughly fastened
by a liberal winding of wire. Next the frames _I_ and _J_ were
set in place, and in order to do this we had to remove the upper tie
pieces of these frames. Then one frame was hooked in the other, and the
two were carried out on the scow under the center of the bridge. Ropes
were tied to the ends of the two frames, and they were lifted together,
like a wide _V_, to the position shown in Fig. 318, after which the
tie pieces were bolted on again, resting against the ends of the
_E_ frames. As an additional security, two sticks were bolted to
the under side of the frame _H_, one at each side of the _I_
and _J_ frames. The bridge was then completed by wedging the frame
_K_ under the ends of the _D_ frames, and also placing a stick
across each tower under the joints of the _D_ frames. We planned to
run our gravity railway across this bridge, moving our platform and
trestle to the opposite bank; so instead of flooring our bridge with
slabs, we fastened ties across at intervals of 15 or 18 inches. These
ties were sticks 3 inches in diameter, which were secured to the
_D_ frames.


A SERIOUS INTERRUPTION.

[Illustration: Fig. 320. A General View of our Cantilever Bridge.]

We were just preparing to lay the tracks across the bridge when we met
with a serious interruption. Mr. Halliday had told us that a few days
before our arrival that summer Mr. Smith, the owner of the island, and
another man had paid a visit to the place. Jim Halliday himself had
rowed them over, and learned from their conversation that Mr. Smith was
trying to sell the island, and that the stranger, a Mr. Gill, was a
prospective purchaser. All summer long we had been dreading the return
of this customer, though, as time passed without his putting in an
appearance, we almost forgot the incident. But now, at the end of
August, just as we had about completed our cantilever bridge, who should
arrive but this very man Gill and three other men with a large tent and
camping outfit. It was a sorrowful crowd of boys that watched the wagon
with their belongings ford the shallow water over to our island. We felt
that the island was ours by right of discovery and occupation, but we
were powerless to force our claims. And what if they did not insist on
our leaving the island? It would not be the same place with strangers
around to meddle with our things.


DISPOSSESSED.

But the new owner of the island was even more of a boor than we had
anticipated. As soon as he landed he wanted to know what we were doing
on his property, and peremptorily ordered us off. Bill answered that we
were camping there, and politely asked if we couldn't stay out the
summer. But Gill would not listen to the idea. We must get off the
island that very day or he would see to it that we did.

I tell you it made us boil. We were just itching to give the pompous
little man the sound thrashing he deserved, but knew that we would stand
a very small show against his three powerful companions. At any rate, we
were determined not to leave at once. Instead, we repaired to Kite
Island, taking our belongings with us. Then we cut away the suspension,
spar and pontoon bridges, so that we would not be annoyed by any of the
Gill crowd. We were resolved that they should not benefit by any of the
things we had built.

At the dead of night we paddled back to Willow Clump Island, crept past
the slumbering intruders and waded out to the old water wheel. After a
good deal of exertion we managed to dislodge the smaller tower, letting
the wheel drop into the river and float away. Then we made for the
cantilever bridge. It didn't take us very long to cut away the wire
bindings, unhook the frames and drop them into the lagoon. But the task
was quite a perilous one, as the night was pitch black. Finally, nothing
remained of the bridge but the two towers, which were left as monuments
to mark the spot where our last piece of engineering on the island was
done.

[Illustration: Building the Cantilever Bridge over Cedar Brook.]


FAREWELL TO WILLOW CLUMP ISLAND.

We spent several days on Kite Island, knowing that we were safe from
intrusion, because the Gill crowd had but one boat, and that was on the
Jersey side of the island. We felt confident that they would not take
the trouble of wading around Point Lookout with their boats, as we had
done; nevertheless, to prevent a surprise, we kept a sentry posted on
the Lake Placid side of the island and gathered a pile of stones for
ammunition. But our fun was spoiled, and we finally decided to break
camp and bid farewell forever to Willow Clump Island and its vicinity.
Our goods were ferried over to Jim Halliday's farm, where we were given
shelter. The windmill, as I have already stated, was sold to a farmer at
Lumberville, and we were kept busy for several days carting it over and
setting it up in place. When everything had been done we stole back to
Kite Island and set fire to the log cabin. The next day Mr. Schreiner
took us home in a couple of his wagons. Thus ended our "investigation,
exploration and exploitation of Willow Clump Island." The work of two
summers was practically all destroyed in a few days.


REDDY'S CANTILEVER BRIDGE.

I believe I have given a careful account of everything that was recorded
in the chronicles of the society. We were too discouraged to undertake
anything new in the two weeks before school opened. I presume I might
mention here Reddy's cantilever bridge, which, however, had really
nothing to do with the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I., because our society
was formally disbanded the day before Bill and I returned to school.
About a month after leaving home I received a letter from Reddy
inclosing three interesting photographs, which are reproduced herewith.
Reddy certainly had the bridge fever, because soon after we had left he
started to work, with the rest of the boys, on a cantilever bridge
across Cedar Brook. The brook was entirely unsuited to such a structure,
because the banks were very low; but he made the towers quite short and
built an inclined roadway leading up to the top of them. The legs of the
towers were driven firmly into the bank, making them so solid that he
thought it would be perfectly safe to build the frames out over the
brook without building them at the same time on the shore side. But
he had made a miscalculation, for when a couple of the boys had
crawled out on the _B_ and _C_ frames to set up an _E_ frame the
structure commenced to sag. The trouble was remedied by propping up the
tower with a stout stick driven into the river bottom and wedged under
the upper tie piece of the tower. The towers were really too short to
make a well proportioned bridge, for the panels had to be made very long
and narrow, so as to reach across. But on the whole it was a very
creditable structure when completed, though it had only half as long a
span as our cantilever bridge over the lagoon.




INDEX

A
  "A" tent, 207
  Abbreviations, wigwag, 146
  Accident, railway, the first, 290
  Ainu snow shoe, 41
  Alarm clock, a unique, 63
  Alphabet, wigwag, 145
  Alpine stock, 198
  Anchoring cantilever bridge, 303
  Annex, the, 50
  Arctic expedition, 193
  Armchair, barrel, 227
  Axles of railroad car, 285

B
  Bags, sleeping, 203
  Banquets, midnight, 179
  Barrel armchair, 227
  Barrel filter, 68
  Barrel hoop snow shoe, 36
  Barrel stave hammock, 226
  Barrel stave snow shoe, 36
  Bat's wings, 33
  Bed, a camp, 209
  Bed in shower, 210
  Belly band, elastic, 235
  Bending wood, 39
  Bicycle wheels, mounting frame on, 219
  Big Bug Club, 177
  "Bill," 17
  Bill's cave, 224
  Bill's skate sail, 21
  Binding cantilever bridge, 303
  Blades of wind wheel, 278
  Boat, ice, 159
  Boat mooring, tramp-proof, 142
  Boat, scow, 59
  Box kite, diamond, 236
  Box, the black walnut, 19
  Brake for wind wheel, 278
  Bridge building, 95
  Bridge, cantilever, 292
  Bridge, king post, 105
  Bridge, king rod, 102
  Bridge, pontoon, 101
  Bridge, Reddy's cantilever, 308
  Bridge, spar, 95
  Bridge, stiffening, 104
  Bridge, suspension, 99
  Bridge wreck, 66
  Bucket, the canvas, 251
  Buckets for water wheel, 246
  Bunks, 270

C
  Camp bed, 209
  Camp bed in shower, 210
  Camp, breaking, 158
  Camp chair, a, 208
  Camp fire, a costly, 200
  Camp fire, kindling, 194
  Canoe, Indian paddling, 121
  Canoe lee boards, 119
  Canoe rudder, 115
  Canoe, the sailing, 111
  Canoe sails, 117
  Canoe, scooter, 190
  Canoe, stretching on canvas, 114
  Canoes, canvas, 109
  Cantilever bridge, 292
  Cantilever bridge, anchoring, 303
  Cantilever bridge, binding frames, 303
  Cantilever bridge, center panels, 304
  Cantilever bridge, frames for, 293
  Cantilever bridge, Reddy's, 308
  Cantilever bridge, setting up frames of, 300
  Cantilever bridge towers, 299
  Canvas bucket, 251
  Canvas canoes, 109
  Canvas, stretching on canoe, 114
  Canvas tent, 46
  Car axles, 285
  Car for gravity railroad, 284
  Car, mounting wheels on, 286
  Carpenter's miter box, 288
  Cave, Bill's, 224
  Cave, covering the, 177
  Cave, excavating for, 173
  Cave, framing, 174
  Cave-in, a, 171
  Center panels of cantilever bridge, 304
  Chain, surveyor's, 77
  Chair, a camp, 208
  Chair seat snow shoe, 35
  Cheek blocks, 162
  Chinks in log cabin, stopping up, 272
  Christmas vacation, 19
  Clamp for crank shaft, 276
  Clapboards, nailing on, 135
  Cleat, a, 163
  Climbing, mountain, 198
  Clock, a unique alarm, 63
  Club, the Big Bug, 177
  Club pin, 180
  Club, the Subterranean, 171
  Code, International Telegraph, 155
  Combination lock, 181
  Council of war, 139
  Crank shaft, the, 276
  Creepers, ice, 170
  Crossbow, 55
  Crossbow trigger, 57
  Cutting out disk, 78

D
  Danish sail, 30
  Derrick, the, 131
  Diamond box kite, 236
  Digging the well, 274
  Disk, cutting out, 78
  Disk, sighting, 79
  Dispossessed, 306
  Diving tree, 84
  Door hinges, 269
  Door latch, 269
  Doors, sliding, 136
  Double mirror heliograph, 156
  Double surprise, 140
  Drill, fire, 69
  Drowned, how to restore, alone, 92
  Drowned, restoring the, 89

E
  Easter vacation, 224
  Elastic belly band, 235
  Expedition, Arctic, 193
  Expedition, logging, 255
  Expedition, preparing for, 53
  Exploration, preliminary, 66

F
  Farewell to Willow Clump Island, 307
  Fastener, brass, 58
  Filter, the barrel, 68
  Filter barrel, cooling the, 250
  Filter, the small, 67
  Fire drill, 69
  Fireplace of log cabin, 265
  Fireplace, outdoor, 195
  Fireplace, stone-paved, 196
  Fissure, path up the, 129
  Flanged wheels, 285
  Fly, ridge pole, 54
  Fly for tent, 54
  Fly, umbrella with, 211
  Focusing heliograph instrument, 153
  Frame on bicycle wheels, 219
  Frames for cantilever bridge, 293
  Frames of cantilever bridge, setting up, 300
  Friend in time of trouble, 201

G
  Goblins' Dancing Platform, 126
  Grass hut, 124
  Gravity railroad, 283

H
  Halliday, Jim, 194
  Hammock, barrel stave, 226
  Harness, pack, 212
  Heliograph, the, 147
  Heliograph, double mirror, 156
  Heliograph instrument, focusing, 153
  Heliograph screen, 151
  Heliograph sight rod, 150
  Heliograph signaling, 154
  Heliograph, single mirror, 148
  Hinge for spars, 30
  Hinges, door, 269
  House building, 124
  House, log, 254
  House, the tree, 132
  Hut, cold night in, 197
  Hut, log, 254
  Hut, straw, 124

I
  Ice boat, the, 159
  Ice boats, sledges and toboggans, 158
  Ice, craft strikes the, 184
  Ice creepers, 170
  Indian paddling canoe, 121
  Instrument, double mirror, 156
  Instrument, single mirror, 148
  Instrument, surveying, 73
  International Telegraph Code, 155
  Iroquois snow shoe, 39
  Island, mapping the, 82
  Island, off to the, 63
  Island, trip to the, 64

J
  Jacob's Ladder, 129
  Jaws of boom, 162
  Jib-sail for ice boat, 164
  Jib-sail for scooter scow, 187
  Jim Halliday, 194

K
  King post bridge, 105
  King rod truss, 102
  Kite, diamond box, 236
  Kite Island, 83
  Kite, Malay, 5-foot, 231
  Kite, Malay, 8-foot, 233
  Kites, putting to work, 235
  Kites, tailless, 229
  _Klepalo_, the, 70

L
  Ladder, the Jacob's, 129
  Ladders, rope, 130
  Lagoon, the, 83
  Lake Placid, 83
  Land yacht, 215
  Land yacht, a sail on, 222
  Lanteen sail for canoe, 117
  Lanteen skate sail, 29
  Latch, door, 269
  Latch string, 270
  Lee boards, canoe, 119
  "Leg-of-mutton" sail, 220
  Levels, spirit, 74
  Lock combination, 181
  Log cabin, 251
  Log cabin, building the, 259
  Log cabin door hinges, 269
  Log cabin door latch, 269
  Log cabin door and window frames, 263
  Log cabin fireplace, 265
  Log cabin, floor of, 267
  Log cabin, foundation of, 254
  Log cabin, roof of, 262
  Log cabin, stopping up chinks, 272
  Log cabin window sash, 270
  Log raft, 256
  Logging expedition, 255

M
  Mainsail for canoe, 117
  Mainsail for ice boat, 162
  Malay kite, 5-foot, 231
  Malay kite, 8-foot, 233
  Mapping the island, 82
  Mast of land yacht, stepping, 218
  Mast step, ice boat, 161
  Mast step, leather, 30
  Mast step, wooden, 30
  Megaphone, 57
  Megaphone mouthpiece, 58
  Midnight banquets, 179
  Mill-race, the, 88
  Mirror instrument, heliograph, 148
  Miter box, carpenter's, 288
  Mizzen sail of canoe, 118
  Mooring, tramp-proof boat, 142
  Mountain climbing, 198
  Mouthpiece of megaphone, 58
  "Mummy case," 204

N
  Needle, weaving, 39
  Night, cold, in the hut, 197
  Nightmare, a, 211
  Noria, 241
  Norwegian ski, 42
  Numerals, wigwag, 145

O
  Oar, the, 61
  Off to the island, 63
  Organizing the society, 25
  Outdoor fireplace, 195
  Outfits, tramping, 203

P
  Pack harness, 212
  Paddling canoe, Indian, 121
  Paddles for water wheel, 246
  Panels, center, of cantilever bridge, 304
  Path up the fissure, 129
  Patient, how to work over, alone, 93
  Pin, the club, 180
  Plank, swimming on, 86
  Platform, Goblins' Dancing, 126
  Point Lookout, 83
  Pole, ridge, 48
  Poncho, 210
  Pontoon bridge, 101
  Poor shelter, a, 199
  Preparing for the expedition, 53
  Protractor, the, 76
  Provisions and supplies, 54
  Pump, the, 279
  Pump, action of, 281
  Pump valves, the, 280

R
  Raft, log, 256
  Raft, sail-rigged, 258
  Railroad car, 284
  Railroad car axles, 285
  Railroad flanged wheels, 285
  Railroad, gravity, 283
  Railway track, the, 287
  Railway accident, the first, 290
  Railway, rope, 97
  Railway spikes, 50
  Rapids, shooting the, 88
  Receiving trough for water wheel, 247
  Records of the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I., 19
  Reddy's cantilever bridge, 308
  Rennwolf, the, 168
  Restoring the drowned, 89
  Ridge pole, 48
  Ridge pole, fly, 54
  Riveting, 213
  Rod, heliograph sight, 150
  Rod, surveyor's, 78
  Rope ladders, 130
  Rope railway, 97
  Rowlocks, sockets for, 60
  Rudder, canoe, 115
  Rudder shoe, ice boat, 160
  Runner shoe, ice boat, 160
  Runners of scooter canoe, 190
  Runners of sledge, 165
  Rustic table, 66

S
  S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I., records of, 19
  Sail, jib, for scooter, 187
  Sail, "leg-of-mutton," 220
  Sail, mizzen, of canoe, 118
  Sail-rigged raft, 258
  Sail, sprit, for scooter, 186
  Sail stitch, 46
  Sail through the country, 222
  Sailing canoe, the, 111
  Sailor's stitch, 221
  Sails, canoe, 117
  Sails for ice boat, 162
  Sandwiches, straw, 227
  Schreiner, a visit from Mr., 110
  Scooter canoe, 190
  Scooter sailing, 188
  Scooter scow, 185
  Scooters, 183
  Scow, the, 59
  Scow, a sail in, 184
  Scow, scooter, 185
  Scow, stolen, 138
  Screen, heliograph, 151
  Seat, swing, 97
  Shaft, the crank, 276
  Shelter, a poor, 199
  Shooting the rapids, 88
  Sight rod, 150
  Sighting blocks, 74
  Sighting disk, 79
  Signaling, heliograph, 154
  Signals, wigwag, 144
  Simple method of surveying, 79
  Single mirror heliograph, 148
  Sioux snow shoe, 37
  Skate sail, bat's wings, 33
  Skate sail, Bill's, 21
  Skate sail, Danish, 30
  Skate sail, double Swedish, 26
  Skate sail, lanteen, 29
  Skate sail, single Swedish, 28
  Skate sails, 26
  Ski, Norwegian, 42
  Ski sticks, 43
  Skids, 262
  Slabs, 101
  Sledge, the, 165
  Sleeping bags, 203
  Sliding doors, 136
  Snotter, 187
  Snow shoe, Ainu, 41
  Snow shoe, barrel hoop, 36
  Snow shoe, barrel stave, 36
  Snow shoe, chair seat, 35
  Snow shoe, Iroquois, 39
  Snow shoe, Sioux, 37
  Snow shoe, Swiss, 43
  Snow shoes, 35
  Society, meeting of, 189
  Society, organizing the, 25
  Spar bridge, 95
  Spars, hinge for, 30
  Spikes, railway, 50
  Spiral spring, 153
  Spirit levels, 74
  Spring, spiral, 153
  Sprit sail, 186
  Stepping mast of land yacht, 218
  Stitch, the sail, 46
  Stitch, sailor's, 221
  Stick, ski, 43
  Stiffening the bridge, 104
  Stone-paved fireplace, 196
  Stone wall, how to build, 266
  Straw hut, 124
  Straw sandwiches, 227
  Subterranean Club, 171
  Summer toboggan, 229
  Supplies and provisions, 54
  Surprise, a double, 140
  Surveying, 73
  Surveying, first lesson in, 79
  Surveying instrument, 73
  Surveying, a simple method of, 79
  Surveying for water wheel, 241
  Surveyor's chain, 77
  Surveyor's rod, 78
  Suspension bridge, 99
  Swamp shoe, 43
  Swedish sail, double, 26
  Swedish sail, single, 28
  Swimming, 84
  Swimming on a plank, 86
  Swing seat, 97
  Swiss snow shoe, 43

T
  Table, a rustic, 66
  Tailless kites, 229
  Telegraph Code, International, 155
  Tent, the "A", 207
  Tent, annex, 50
  Tent, canvas wall, 46
  Tent fly, 54
  Tent making, 44
  Testing the track, 291
  Thole pins, 61
  Tie block, wood, 49
  Tie, wire, 50
  Tiger's Tail, 83
  Tiller, ice boat, 161
  Tiller of land yacht, 219
  Toboggan, the, 167
  Toboggan, the summer, 229
  Tower, the windmill, 275
  Towers of the cantilever bridge, 299
  Towers for water wheel, 243
  Towers of water wheel, setting up, 248
  Track, laying the, 289
  Track, the railway, 287
  Track, testing the, 291
  Tramping outfits, 203
  Tramp-proof boat mooring, 142
  Tramps, trouble with, 138
  Tree, diving, 84
  Tree house, the, 132
  Trigger for crossbow, 57
  Trip to the island, 64
  Tripod, the, 75
  Trouble with tramps, 138
  Trunk, the old, 18
  Truss, king rod, 102
  Turnbuckle, a simple, 216

U
  Umbrella with fly, 211
  Umbrella rib crossbow, 55
  Uncle Ed, word from, 45
  Uncle Ed's departure, 109

V
  Vacation, Christmas, 19
  Vacation, Easter, 224
  Valves, the pump, 280
  Van Syckel, interview with, 189
  Vengeance, 139
  Visit from Mr. Schreiner, 110

W
  Wall, how to build, 266
  Wall tent, 46
  Water wheel, 241
  Water wheel buckets, 246
  Water wheel, construction of, 245
  Water wheel, Mr. Halliday's, 252
  Water wheel, mounting the, 249
  Water wheel paddles, 246
  Water wheel receiving trough, 247
  Water wheel, surveying for, 241
  Water wheel, towers for, 243
  Water wheel towers, setting up, 248
  War, council of, 139
  Weaving needle, 39
  Well, digging the, 274
  Wheel, the wind, 276
  Wheels for gravity railroad, 285
  Wheels, mounting, on car, 286
  Wheels, mounting frame on, 219
  Wigwag abbreviations, 146
  Wigwag alphabet, 145
  Wigwag numerals, 145
  Wigwag signals, 144
  Wigwagging and heliographing, 144
  Wigwagging at night, 147
  Willow Clump Island, 23
  Willow Clump Island, farewell to, 307
  Willow Clump Island in winter, 194
  Wind wheel, 276
  Wind wheel blades, 278
  Wind wheel brake, 278
  Windmill, 273
  Windmill tower, 275
  Window hinge, 270
  Window sash, log cabin, 270
  Wings, bat's, 33
  Wire tie, 50
  Wood, bending, 39
  Wood tie block, 49
  Word from Uncle Ed, 45

Y
  Yacht, land, 215
  Yacht, land, frame of, 216




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