The Scientific American Boy E-Book

Alexander Russell Bond

• Herausgeber: Science & Technology Publishing
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 282

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

The Scientific American Boy; Or, The Camp at Willow Clump Island is a classic adventure novel written by A. Russell Bond, first published in 1906. The story follows a group of enterprising boys—Jack, Jim, Will, and their friends—who embark on an exciting summer expedition to Willow Clump Island, a secluded spot along the river. Inspired by the spirit of scientific inquiry and practical ingenuity, the boys set out to build their own camp from scratch, using only the resources available in nature and their own inventiveness. Throughout the book, the boys demonstrate a remarkable blend of curiosity, resourcefulness, and teamwork as they tackle a wide range of challenges. They construct shelters, build boats and rafts, create tools and furniture, and even devise clever ways to catch fish and cook meals. Each chapter is filled with detailed, step-by-step descriptions of their projects, making the book both an engaging story and a practical manual for young readers interested in science, engineering, and outdoor skills. The narrative is rich with the spirit of exploration and discovery, as the boys learn to solve problems, adapt to unexpected situations, and appreciate the wonders of the natural world. Their adventures are interwoven with lessons in physics, chemistry, mechanics, and natural history, reflecting the educational mission of the original Scientific American magazine. The book also emphasizes the values of friendship, perseverance, and ethical conduct, as the boys navigate both the joys and difficulties of life in the wild. The Scientific American Boy stands as a testament to the power of imagination, hands-on learning, and the enduring appeal of outdoor adventure. It remains a beloved work for readers of all ages who are fascinated by the intersection of science, nature, and youthful ingenuity.

Leseprobe

Fun in Swimming.

The SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN BOY

OR

The Camp at Willow Clump Island

By A. RUSSELL BOND

NEW YORK

MUNN & CO., Publishers

1906

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

PRESS OF THE KALKHOFF COMPANY NEW YORK

PREFACE

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

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

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

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

A. RUSSELL BOND.

New York, October, 1905.

CONTENTS

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.

Map of Willow Clump Island and Vicinity.

THE SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN BOY.

CHAPTER I.“BILL.”

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

The Old Trunk.

Fig. 1. The Old Trunk in the Attic.

But hold on, I am getting ahead of my story. I was rummaging through the attic the other day, and came across an old battered trunk, one that I used when I went to boarding-school down in south Jersey. That trunk was certainly a curiosity shop. It contained a miscellaneous assortment of glass tubes, brass rods, coils of wire, tools, fish hooks–in fact, it was a typical collection of all those “valuables” that a boy is liable to pick up. Down in one corner of the trunk was a black walnut box, marked, with brass letters, “Property of the S. S. I. E. E. of W. C. I.” On my key-ring I still carried the key to that box, which had not been opened for Fig. 2. The Black Walnut Box. years. I unlocked the box and brought to light the “Records and Chronicles of the Society for the Scientific Investigation, Exploration and Exploitation of Willow Clump Island.” For hours I pored over those pages, carried back to the good old times we used to have as boys along the banks of the Delaware River, until I was brought sharply back to the present by the sound of the dinner bell. It seemed that the matter contained in those “Chronicles” was too good to be kept locked up in an old trunk. Few boys’ clubs ever had such a president as Bill, or such a wonderful bureau of information as Uncle Ed. For the benefit of boys and boykind in general, I decided then and there to publish, as fully as practicable, a record of what our society did.

Christmas Vacation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bill’s” Skate Sail.

Fig. 3. Laying Out the Sail.

The old sheet which Mother furnished us was laid out on the floor and two corners were folded over to the center, as shown in the drawing, making a triangle with base 7 feet long and sides each about 4 feet 6 inches long. The surplus end piece was then cut off, and a broad hem turned and basted all around the edges of the triangle. Bill wanted to work the sewing machine himself, but Mother was afraid he would break something, so she sewed down the hem for us. Then, under Bill’s supervision, Fig. 4. The Tape Tie Strings. she re-enforced the corners by sewing on patches of cloth. Along the diagonal a strip of heavy tape was sewed, leaving loops at intervals, which afterward were cut and provided means for tying the sail to the mast. Tie strings of tape were Fig. 5. “Bill’s” Sail Complete. also sewed at the corners, as shown in the illustration, and then a trip was made to the garden in search of suitable spars. A smooth bean pole of about the right weight served for the mast, and another stick with a crotch at one end served as the boom or cross-spar. The spars were cut to proper length, and the sail was then tied on, as illustrated, with the crotch of the cross-spar fitted against and tied to the center of the mast. A light rope, long enough to provide plenty of slack, was tied to the ends of the mast to assist in guiding the sail when in use. In the meantime I had procured another sheet from one of our neighbors, and Bill helped me make a sail for myself. It was not until long after dark that we finished our work.

Willow Clump Island.

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

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

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

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

“What’s that got to do with it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Organizing the Society.

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

CHAPTER II.SKATE SAILS.

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

The Double Swedish Sail.

Bill evolved some new types of sails which differed materially from the type described in the first chapter. One was a double sail–“the kind they use in Sweden,” he explained. One of the sheets which the foraging Fig. 6. Dimensions of Double Swedish Sail. N. B.–The mark (') means feet and (") means inches. party brought in was extra large; it measured approximately two yards and a half square. This was folded on itself, making a parallelogram seven feet six inches long and three feet nine inches wide. The sheets we had were all rather worn and some were badly torn, so that we had to make our sails of double thickness, sewing patches over Fig. 7. Halyards Looped onto Pole. the weak spots. A broad hem was turned down at each end, and heavy tape was sewed on, leaving loops as before, to attach them to the spars. This reduced the length of our sail to seven feet three inches. The end spars were spaced apart by a light pole about ten feet long, to which they were Fig. 8. The Double Swedish Sail. tied at the points of intersection. The spars were also braced by halyards looped over the ends of the pole in the manner indicated in the drawing (Fig. 7). It took a crew of two boys to manipulate this sail. In use, the pole of the rig was carried on the shoulders, and the sail was guided by means of ropes attached to the lower corners of the vertical spars. These ropes in nautical language are called “sheets.” The boy at the rear was the pilot and did the steering, because his position behind the sail gave him an unobstructed view in all directions. When changing tack the sail was lifted overhead to the other side of the crew.

Fig. 9. Changing Tack.

The Single Swedish Sail.

Fig. 10. The Single Swedish Sail.

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

The Lanteen Sail.

Fig 11. The Lanteen Sail.

The lanteen sail we found to be a very good rig. It was made in the form of a triangle, measuring eight feet on one side, seven and one-half feet on another side and six and one-half feet on the third. The six and one-half foot side was secured to a boom, and the seven and one-half foot side to a yard. The yard and boom were hinged together by a leather strap nailed on as shown in Fig. 12, and to this hinge a rope was attached, which served as a sheet. These spars were secured to a mast erected perpendicularly to the boom and intersecting the yard a little above its center. We had had some trouble with the first sails we made in keeping the base of the sail against the body, and to overcome this difficulty Bill proposed tying the Fig. 12. Hinge for Spars. bottom of the mast to the leg. This was a rather risky thing to do, as we learned later, for in case of accident it would be difficult to get clear of Fig. 13. Leather Mast Step. the sail. It was Reddy who finally solved the problem by rigging up a step for the mast. It consisted of a leather tag tied to the leg, and provided with a hole into which the bottom of the mast was fitted. To prevent the Fig. 14. Wooden Mast Step. mast from slipping too far into the step the lower portion of it was whittled down, leaving a shoulder which rested on the leather. Bill later devised another step, which consisted of a wooden block (Fig. 14) strapped to the leg and formed with a shallow socket to receive the end of the mast.

The Danish Sail.

But the most satisfactory sail we found to be the Danish sail, though it was not until we had served quite a long apprenticeship and Fig. 15. The Danish Sail. sustained many pretty bad falls that we mastered the art of manipulating these sails properly. Our ideas on this sail were obtained from a French illustrated paper which Dutchy Van Syckel picked up in his father’s library. This sail was formed with a topsail so arranged that it could be lowered when the wind was too strong. The dimensions of the sail as we made it are given in the drawing (Fig. 15). The top of the sail was lashed to a spar, which Fig. 16. Topsail of the Danish Rig. was connected by a short stick to another spar tied to the mainsail about eighteen inches lower down. The sail was strengthened with an extra strip of cloth along the lower spar, and the tie strings were applied in the usual way. The connecting stick, or topmast we may call it, was hinged to the lower spar by means of a short piece of leather strap, which was passed round the spar in the form of a loop and its two ends nailed to the bottom of the topmast. The topmast extended above the upper spar a short distance, and to this we fastened the flag which our society had adopted. A couple of strong cords were secured to the center spar to provide for fastening the sail onto the skater. Tied to the lower corners of the mainsail were two sticks which were used for guiding the sail when in flight.

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

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

Bat’s Wings.

One more sail deserves mention. It was Bill’s idea, and it came near to ending his career the first day he tried it. It had no spars at all, but was merely a strip of cloth of somewhat triangular shape. The upper side was tied to the head, and the two corners to the wrists, while the lower portion was tied to the ankles. This converted him into a huge white-winged bat. Bill had to try it at once, even though the rest of the sails were not finished, and a very comical spectacle he made as he flapped his wings in his endeavors to tack. When the wind was too strong for him he had merely to drop his arms and thus lower sail. At length he became tired of holding his arms out at full length, Fig. 21. and I got him a stick to put over his shoulders and rest his arms on. But that stick was Bill’s undoing, for coming around a sudden bend in the canal he caught the full force of the wind, which knocked him flat on his back before he could disentangle himself from the stick and lower sail. It took us some time to bring him back to consciousness, and a very scared lot of boys we were for a while. However, the lesson was a good one, for after that we were very cautious in experimenting with sails that had to be tied on, such as the Danish rig and the lanteen rig, before Reddy invented the mast step.

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

CHAPTER III.SNOW SHOES, SKIS AND SWAMP SHOES.

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

Chair Seat Snow Shoe.

Fig. 22. Chair Seat Snow Shoe

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

Barrel Stave Snow Shoe.

Fig. 23. Barrel Stave Snow Shoe.

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

Barrel Hoop Snow Shoe.

Fig. 24. Barrel Hoop Snow Shoe.

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

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

The Sioux Snow Shoe.

Fig. 25. Sioux Shoe.

The Sioux snow shoe was the first type we tackled. Two strips of hickory 4 feet long and 3/4 inch square in section, were bent over a pair of spreaders and securely fastened together at each end. The Fig. 26. Frame of the Sioux Shoe. spreaders were about 12 inches long and located about 15 inches apart. They were notched at the ends, as shown in Fig. 26, to receive the side strips, which were not fastened together until after they had been nailed to the spreaders. We found that the most satisfactory way of fastening together the ends of the hickory strips was to bolt them together. When the frame was completed, we began the tedious process of weaving in the filling or web of the snow shoe. First we cut notches in the edges of the spreaders, spacing these notches an inch apart. Then we procured several balls of heavy twine at the corner store. Tying one end of the cord to the right side stick about three inches below the forward spreader, we stretched a strand down to the notch at the left end of the lower spreader. The strand was drawn taut, and after making several twists around it Fig 27. Web of the Sioux Shoe. the cord was tied to the left side stick three inches above the spreader. From this point the cord was stretched to the notch at the right end of the upper spreader, twisted several times and brought back to the starting point. The cord was now wrapped around the side stick for a space of about an inch, and then carried down to the second notch on the lower spreader, whence it was woven through the other two strands and tied about the left side stick about four inches from the spreader. Thus the weaving continued, passing the cord alternately over and under any cross strands encountered. In order to make the left side correspond with the right, a separate cord was wound around it, filling up the space between the strands of the web. The filling above and below the spreaders could not be so methodically done, but we managed to weave the strands quite neatly with about the same mesh as used at the center. To facilitate the weaving Fig. 28. Weaving Needle we improvised a rough needle of a piece of wire. The latter was bent double to receive the cord which was wedged in between the two arms of the needle.

The Iroquois Shoe.

But the best snow shoe we made was the Iroquois shoe. The frame of this shoe was made of hickory strips of the same width and thickness as used in the Sioux shoe, but Fig. 29. Bending the Hickory Strips. 8 feet long. The strips were bent in a loop and the ends were bolted together. How to bend the wood without breaking it seemed a very difficult problem. Wood, we knew, could be easily bent without breaking if boiled or steamed for a while; but we had nothing large enough in which to boil a strip of wood 8 feet long. Bill hit upon the plan of wrapping the stick with burlap and then pouring boiling water on it until it became sufficiently soft to bend easily. An old oats-sack was cut up into strips and wound onto the hickory sticks for a distance of 18 inches at each side of the center. We then repaired to the Fig. 30. Frame of Iroquois Shoe. kitchen to do the steaming. The hickory stick was held over a large dish-pan filled with boiling water, and from this we dipped out the water and poured it slowly over the burlap wrapping of the stick. After a little of this treatment the stick was sufficiently steamed to permit of bending to the required shape. The ends Fig. 31. Iroquois Snow Shoe. were then firmly secured by means of bolts passed through bolt holes which had been previously drilled. The frame was completed by fitting the spreader sticks in place, after which it was laid away to dry. When the frame was perfectly dry we started weaving the web. In this case, however, instead of cord we used cane strips, which we had bought from a chair caner. This necessitated drilling holes in the side sticks to receive the cane strips. The web consisted of strands crossing each other diagonally, as illustrated. Our second pair of Iroquois snow shoes was made with a web of rawhide which we bought from a hardware store at Millville.

The Ainu Snow Shoe.

One of the snowshoes described in the book was very much like Fred’s barrel-hoop snow shoe in appearance. According to the description, it was a type used by the Ainus, a peculiar people living in the cold northern islands of Japan. As the shoe seemed quite simple and rather unique, we thought we Fig. 32. Ainu Snow Shoe. would make one like it. Two hickory strips each 4 feet long were bent to a U-shape and lashed together, forming an oval about 2 feet 6 inches long by 18 inches wide. The frame was held to oval shape by tying the sides together. Then the filling was woven in, running the strands diagonally, as shown in Fig. 32.

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

Our vacation came to an end before we were prepared for the expedition to Willow Clump Island. But before leaving Fig. 33. The Norwegian Ski. the subject on snow shoes, two more shoes remain to be described, namely the Swiss snow shoe and the Norwegian ski. The Swiss shoe was made during the summer and the ski during the following winter.

The Norwegian Ski.

The Norwegian ski was made of close-grained wood, 1 inch thick, 3-1/2 inches wide and 6 feet long. About 18 inches from the forward end the wood was planed down to a thickness of 1/4 of an inch. This end was placed in the dish-pan of boiling water, and in a short time it was pliable Fig. 35. The Ski Stick. enough to permit of bending. It was secured Fig. 34. Bending the Ski.