There are other ways of baking bread.In the North Country forests, where you carry everything on your back, you will do it in the frying-pan.The mixture should be a rather thick batter or a rather thin dough.
It is turned into the frying-pan and baked first on one side, then on the other, the pan being propped on edge facing the fire.The whole secret of success is first to set your pan horizontal and about three feet from the fire in order that the mixture may be thoroughly warmed--not heated--before the pan is propped on edge.Still another way of baking is in a reflector oven of tin.This is highly satisfactory, provided the oven is built on the scientific angles to throw the heat evenly on all parts of the bread-pan and equally on top and bottom.It is not so easy as you might imagine to get a good one made.These reflectors are all right for a permanent camp, but too fragile for transportation on pack-animals.
As for bread, try it unleavened once in a while by way of change.It is really very good,--just salt, water, flour, and a very little sugar.For those who like their bread "all crust," it is especially toothsome.
The usual camp bread that I have found the most successful has been in the proportion of two cups of flour to a teaspoonful of salt, one of sugar, and three of baking-powder.Sugar or cinnamon sprinkled on top is sometimes pleasant.Test by thrusting a splinter into the loaf.If dough adheres to the wood, the bread is not done.Biscuits are made by using twice as much baking-powder and about two tablespoonfuls of lard for shortening.They bake much more quickly than the bread.Johnny-cake you mix of corn-meal three cups, flour one cup, sugar four spoonfuls, salt one spoonful, baking-powder four spoonfuls, and lard twice as much as for biscuits.It also is good, very good.
The flapjack is first cousin to bread, very palatable, and extremely indigestible when made of flour, as is ordinarily done.However, the self-raising buckwheat flour makes an excellent flapjack, which is likewise good for your insides.The batter is rather thin, is poured into the piping hot greased pan, "flipped"when brown on one side, and eaten with larrupy-dope or brown gravy.
When you come to consider potatoes and beans and onions and such matters, remember one thing:
that in the higher altitudes water boils at a low temperature, and that therefore you must not expect your boiled food to cook very rapidly.In fact, you'd better leave beans at home.We did.Potatoes you can sometimes tease along by quartering them.
Rolled oats are better than oatmeal.Put them in plenty of water and boil down to the desired consistency.
In lack of cream you will probably want it rather soft.
Put your coffee into cold water, bring to a boil, let boil for about two minutes, and immediately set off.
Settle by letting a half cup of cold water flow slowly into the pot from the height of a foot or so.If your utensils are clean, you will surely have good coffee by this simple method.Of course you will never boil your tea.
The sun was nearly down when we raised our long yell.The cow-puncher promptly responded.We ate.
Then we smoked.Then we basely left all our dishes until the morrow, and followed our cow-puncher to his log cabin, where we were to spend the evening.
By now it was dark, and a bitter cold swooped down from the mountains.We built a fire in a huge stone fireplace and sat around in the flickering light telling ghost-stories to one another.The place was rudely furnished, with only a hard earthen floor, and chairs hewn by the axe.Rifles, spurs, bits, revolvers, branding-irons in turn caught the light and vanished in the shadow.The skin of a bear looked at us from hollow eye-sockets in which there were no eyes.We talked of the Long Trail.Outside the wind, rising, howled through the shakes of the roof ON THE WIND AT NIGHT
