MAKING THE HUNTER'S WINTER CAMP box is your coffee or tea pot. Melt snow in this and brew your hot drink. If you have any game, you can broil some of it over the coals or fry it along with the bacon. And so you have a warm, comfortable shelter, a plentiful supper, and everything as it should be. In the morning you are sure at least of some bacon and coffee or tea before starting back to camp. Even a hunter with a broken leg can crawl under the low-hanging branches of some tree or bush and make himself fairly comfortable by binding his injured limb in the shelter cloth and building a fire. In such a plight, without his little emergency outfit he might freeze. Just as the small leanto, which measures about seven by four feet, can be made snug for a night, so may a similar but larger lean-to be made to serve for a week or even a month's stay. Always select a site in a hollow deep in the woods, thickly surrounded by trees. In the summer this would be preeminently the wrong 879 weave hemlock boughs in and out over the slanting side and down one end. For a permanent camp, one end should be quite closed and the other nearly closed. If the camp is placed between two trees, both ends are closed and only a doorway left in the front end. Bank with snow as heavily as your founda "The first thing to do if you find yourself marooned in a great for est. is to make a little camp for the night before it gets too dark to see. A big boulder makes a handy shelter for a little emergency camp." site, as rains might flood the hollow in a single night, but in winter such a spot shelters the camp from the biting winds. If a boulder cannot be found large enough, fasten one pole between two trees, lean the other poles against that, place them close together, and tion will stand. Nothing is warmer than a thatching overlaid with snow. Place the fire close to the entrance and, when it is time to sleep, hang the shelter cloth over the door and turn in on blankets laid on great beds of boughs. Roughly speaking, there are two million people-men, women, and children-who work, eat and drink, read, play, buy and sell, underground, year after year, in a certain big center of population. They are literally cave-dwellers. Mr. Bailey Millard is going to tell you about these people in March TECHNICAL WORLD MAGAZINE. 310 TCPER POULTRY HOVIL DLD ROOM TO BATH LAVNDBY BED ROOM TUEL SEWINGEN DASEMENT PLAN FIRST FLOOR SECOND FLOOR .COMPETITION FOR A FARMHOVSE.. FOR THE PRIZE IN ARCHITECTVRE. ..1913.. SECOND PRIZE PLANS Copies of this or the first-prize-winning plan may be purchased for fifty cents. This model has been circulated throughout Minnesota that the farmers might see a reproduction. LIVABLE FARMHOUSES R OMANCE tells us of the chestnut roasts, and the pop corn parties, and the juicy apples of the farmer's hearthside. But he neglects to tell how cold the backs of the revelers will get while they are popping the corn and roasting the chestnuts and their faces. He forgets to tell us how icy the morning wash water is, and how uncomfortable it is to take a bath in a tin wash tub. The farmer could romance about these with much more heightened effect. He knows that these modern discomforts have driven his sons to the cities to work as clerks and live in boarding houses where the heat is turned on in the early morning. It has long been realized that the "back to the soil" slogan was erroneous. The new version is "stay on the land". The Minnesota State Art Society is in the business of teaching the sons of the soil that bath tubs and hot water systems are essential or there can be no "stay on the land", or "back to the soil" slogan which will have any effect on the present day man or woman. The society attacked the problem from an architectural point of view. It carried on a campaign which resulted in the posting of five hundred dollars' worth of prizes for the best plans for model farmhouses, adapted to Minnesota conditions, and having a total cost of not more than thirty-five hundred dollars. Thirty sets of plans were submitted. The two prize winners were then modeled in clay and are now in circulation throughout the state. Copies of the plans may be obtained for a nominal sum. Any feature of the ideal houses can be accepted, or the entire design may be used in building new houses. The new and the livable Minnesota farmhouse is a revelation in modern convenience adapted to farm life. A special wash room in the cellar is provided for the hands. A special stairway to their rooms is also provided. harmonize in form and position with the driveways and the buildings and the vegetable garden is placed within reach instead of on the far corner of the back wood lot. It is not expected that farmers will grasp the plans, tear down their homes and build according to the model design. The art society is suggesting what may be done, done with a minimum of cost and a maximum of comfort, privacy, and individuality. The home can be furnished as the farmer wills, or he may inspect a house built and furnished according to the ideal plans, and then furnish accordingly. The plans are almost free, the house is no more expensive than most farm houses; the result is better than a "back to the land" slogan. THE PRIZE WINNING PLANS Most farm houses never have plans by an architect. A glance will show how different this is from most rural dwellings. The family of the modern farmer is to enjoy a degree of privacy. There are buildings provided for the storage of the family automobile; a room for the dynamo which supplies light and power to the farm is alongside the family laundry in the basement; the fuel room is beside a furnace which will heat every room in the house; the water system is run by the gasoline engine which supplies power to the dynamo. Even the paths which lead to the the dwelling THE DIVORCE OF IRON AND COAL N By WALTER V. WOEHLKE EARLY three hundred miles north of San Francisco, rising in a wall four hundred feet high, with outcroppings on the surface, is a field of ore that yields seventy per cent of metallic iron. Ore containing but sixty per cent is today considered high grade even in the big mines of Minnesota. There was every indication to the discoverers of the California mine that the rich deposits would be still further enhanced by a low mining cost. Right alongside of the deposit is the limestone needed for fluxing. A railroad. runs within six miles' distance. Two hundred miles away is a market in which pig iron always brings twelve dollars a ton more than the Pittsburgh price. A fine combination, wasn't it? Rich, clean ore, fluxing material, transportation, a market for the output, all close at hand. C. B. Morgan, a western mining operator, controlled the property. He had apparently only to twirl the knob, make the tumblers of the combination click in proper order, open the safe, and join the procession of Pittsburgh millionaires strutting through Peacock Alley. But though they thought that they had everything in their favor, Morgan and his associates had forgotten the kinship of iron and coal. Iron without coal is worthless-a deep clayhole would be as valuable. Yet the owners of the new mine, hopeful that some sort of suitable fuel might turn up, held on. They knew they were not the only iron-ore Micawbers in the Far West. Ore deposits of good quality and large size are not rare beyond the Rockies, but somehow coal seams out there persistently avoid the proximity of the potential iron. Still, the country is young, explored only superficially. They hoped, scanned the horizon for coal, watched many weary years. When the oil gushers broke loose in California, the ore owners took courage and a fresh grip. Oil companies, eager to widen their market, spent half a million experimenting with crude petroleum as fuel in iron-ore reduction, but the experiments all failed. Oil gave off its carbon at a temperature of eight hundred to nine hundred degrees; the oxygen of the ore with which the carbon was to unite was not released until the temperature reached seventeen hundred degrees. Smelting with oil was impossible. The door of the millionaire's safe remained opened. Then they tried water. un Falling water, when it hits a wheel, produces energy. Power produces electric current. In a furnace the electric arc produces tremendous heat. All about Morgan's iron ore, the water of the streams leaping and tumbling down the slopes of Mt. Shasta was ready to generate current. H. H. Noble, the hydroelectric pioneer of Northern California, had a superabundance of current produced by falling water. He needed a larger market for his output. Over in Belgium Dr. Paul Heroult was beginning to make steel in electric furnaces. At Sault Ste. Marie the Canadian Government was experimenting with an Heroult electric furnace in an effort to produce nickel steel. Noble saw a chance of turning his surplus current into cash through Morgan's iron ore. Morgan saw in the electric current the missing factor of his combination. They got together. Hopefully they started to build a furnace and conducted into it |