Holidays in Tents

THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES HOLIDAYS IN TENTS HOLIDAYS IN TENTS BY W. M. CHILDS WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 1921 LONDON tr* TORONTO J. M. DENT fcf SONS, LTD. NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO. Printed in Great Britain ty rW//A* Sj>irst Edinburgh TO THE FARMERS ENGLISH AND WELSH WHO ON MANY OCCASIONS HAVE WELCOMED ME A STRANGER WITHIN THEIR GATES NOTE For the photographs in this book my thanks are due to my friend, Mr J. W. DODGSON, and to my son, RODERICK. I am indebted to the proprietors of The " Times for permission to reprint A Lonely " Llyn (Chapter xvii). W. M. C. CONTENTS PAGE I. THE CAMPER'S APOLOGY . I II. THE KINDS OF CAMPING . "29 III. LOCALITY AND SITE . .38 IV. THE CAMPER'S WELCOME AND His RESPONSE ..... 50 V. TENTS ...... 60 VI. SHELTER . 89 VII. FLOODS .... -97 VIII. KITCHEN AND MENU . no IX. WASHING UP 128 X. BEDS . 134 XI. CARE OF TENTS .... 142 XII. FURTHER NOTES ON ORGANIZATION AND EQUIPMENT . 149 XIII, MARAUDERS 159 vtt viii HOLIDAYS IN TENTS PAGE XIV. TREK-CART CAMPING . .170 XV. ON FOOT AMONG WELSH HILLS . 220 XVI. A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS . 234 XVII. A LONELY LLYN .... 262 APPENDIX ...... 267 INDEX . .273 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS A TREK-CART CAMP . Frontispiece FACING PAGE A VALLEY IN WALES ..... 4 BRINGING THE EQUIPMENT TO THE SITE THE FARMER'S SLEDGE . 44 A WHYMPER TENT . 80 BY THE FALL THE SITE THAT WAS FLOODED Io6 A FAMILY ENCAMPMENT . 144 STRIKING THE TENTS . .156 A CORNER OF A LLYN . 2 34 HOLIDAYS IN TENTS I THE CAMPER'S APOLOGY "There are enough champions of civilization." THOREAU.1 " Nature, that universal and publick Manuscript, that lies of all." SIR THOMAS BROWNED expans'd unto the Eyes "There come moments to every man when he is thank- drawn is a ; so at ful to be alive, and every breath delight for His and for that hour I praised my Maker good earth, S in it." JOHN BUCHAN. sparing me to rejoice " ? 'Aven't What do you want to go campin' for you " CRITIC. got a 'ome ? PASSING THIS little book has been written partly as and in the a holiday exercise, partly hope and of use that it may be of interest perhaps are akin to mine. I to persons whose tastes do not flatter myself that anything I may say who are will induce people to go camping not inclined to do so already. We cannot we can be argued into enjoyment, though 2 1 Medici. Essay on Walking. Rffigio 3 Salute to Adventurers. 1 2 HOLIDAYS IN TENTS easily be bored if other people over-praise " their pleasures to us. All that each man holds dearest may seem illusion to another." Nor is it likely that the tame chronicle of a holiday camper in the home country can contain anything worthy the notice of sportsmen and explorers, who with a com- pleteness to which any pretence by me would be absurd have cut themselves off from civilization and gone into the wilds. I am content with a more modest hope. Camping holidays, scattered over twenty- five years and taken in different parts of the country in all seasons and weathers, have taught me something, both as to the pleasure to be gained, and as to the mysteries of the art. It may be that other holiday or campers, intending campers, may profit here and there what I have to by say ; and, as I hope, be fortified in their devotion to a most delightful recreation. For camping, though it often brings hard work and demands patience and resource, is delightful to those who care for the kind of pleasure which it brings. That THE CAMPER'S APOLOGY 3 is keen and various. I am not pleasure sure which is the most enjoyable, the a anticipation of camping holiday among and new scenes, or the making of plans or the actual preparations for it, holiday has itself. Once the idea of an expedition I doubt if there taken shape in the mind, are many kinds of literature as enthralling as the one-inch ordnance map. In the of there designing and making equipment, can be something of the artist's satisfaction, of if only to the extent creating things apt to dis- for their purposes. It is cheering do with- cover how many things we can there is a in out ; and pleasure adapting means to ends, and reducing essentials to their handiest form. Whoever has a turn in for contrivance can give full play to it and still the ideal tent and its camping ; haunt his and equipment will imagination And then when spur him to fresh effort. has at when the the longed-for day come last, is behind and we reach railway journey us, form of our ground, can any other holiday if fortune is ? give us a happier hour, kindly 4 HOLIDAYS IN TENTS We have come, perhaps, to a sequestered glen. The scarred and coloured slopes of mountains rise upon either hand. The wild freedom of their forms appeals to us with new power after long exile in the lowland. A river winds at their feet, now gently gliding, now plunging from pool to pool. For a little while, resting in the shade, we survey these things, and debate whether we shall pitch our tents here or there. Under this wall and hedge will be the best shelter but the turf is ; yonder smoother and the river nearer. The point decided, a task of never-failing fascination begins. Bales and packages, poles and hampers, lie upon the grass in disarray, just as the cart discharged them. Like Robinson Crusoe, it would be possible, if need were, " to barricade yourself with chests and boards . and make a kind of hut for that night's lodging." But our ambition soars beyond huts. Very soon the tents arise in order due, and stores and be- longings find their way to their proper places. The milk-can makes its first THE CAMPER'S APOLOGY 5 journey to the farm : and never surely was the rattle of cups and plates more welcome. By the taking of that first meal, home is made, and camp law begins its reign. Much remains to do, but already design has mastered confusion, and the heat and toil are over. Towards sunset there may be time to get out a trout rod, and sample the evening rise. Last comes the hour when youth has fallen happily asleep, but when seniors lie awake, listening contentedly to the song of the river, and to the voices of bird and beast which now and again break the stillness. Every camping holiday has these golden hours. They belong chiefly to the summer, but summer has no monopoly of lovely scenes. Here is a note from a Carmarthen- shire valley in the opening days of April : u Last night was still and cold. The stars were brilliant. When I looked out of the tent in the morning it was to behold an exquisite fairyland. Hill and vale, every crag and blade of grass, were shimmering with hoar frost. A curtain of white vapour drifted across the ravine 6 HOLIDAYS IN TENTS up-stream, and the river issued darkly from it. Above the hill-crests stretched two long narrow white clouds : and above these again was the clear heaven and serene sunshine. All was still, white, and glistening, delicately and purely lovely : a bridal dress of morning." We are, indeed, too ready to think that natural beauty belongs only or chiefly to the height of summer. Yet remembered moments are those when the westering sun pours a rosy light upon snowclad hills. The aspect of nature may be more austere in April than in August : yet among the hills and glens the colouring can be richer. The slopes are splashed with russet, the dead bracken of last and after rain year ; these patches become a deeper red. A darker hue is worn by the heather, and by the lichens which grow upon the outcrops of rock. The larches are green-tipped : the silver birches a purpling red. Among the brown tussocks of the moor, the new blades are pushing to the light. April rivers are commonly full of life : every valley resounds with their music. THE CAMPER'S APOLOGY 7 Even the end of a camp, and the hour of farewell, though inseparable from regrets, can be redeemed by the memory of beauty \vhich it leaves behind. A note of one last September night says : u farm to see We had supper. I went to the O about the cart. Then, while the boys stroll the lane. No turned in, I took a down be in our more magnificent evening can possible and country. It was cloudless, \vindless, very still, save for the call of some wading bird, an occasional and the low sound of rustling of invisible wings, the river and of waves on the sand. The west the was a fading glory : right opposite, great harvest moon was already high. In the oat- and field the standing sheaves were magnified, cast solemn shadows. All round the northern horizon were the vague and dusky shapes I turned back . our of mountains. ; holiday was over." Not all the camper's days and nights, however, will be halcyon; and it would and fail to falsify camping experience explain that its hold upon us, if it were pretended smooth. nothing rough goes with the Camping, as it is conceived in these pages, is not is not lounging and lazing.

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