TENT DWELLERS

Evening Star, Issue 22572, 13 February 1937, Page 2

TENT DWELLERS

[Written by A.S. for the ' Eovoning Star.’]

Rain coming clown in sheets. A pitchblack night. Hastily-dug trenches to carry away the water, while someone clings desperately to the flapping canvas to prevent its deserting altogether. These are a few of the items that the title of this article will suggest to the memory of the occasional tent-dweller, with recollections of a few days spent under canvas, during some holiday season. The next time he will play safe and hook in at an hotel. But life under canvas can be vastly different, and the accustomed tentdweller, as snug as the proverbial “ bug in the rug.” There are thousands of tent-dwellers in this country; those employed in road making, the building of irrigation dams, blazing forest tracks, and many other public -yorks schemes. The canvas dwellings of these men are vastly different from the floppy affair of two light uprights and flimsy ridgepole that the week-end camper, blames for that attack of rheumatism. They are solidly-constructed frames, equipped with well-fitting canvas. They have wooden floors, doors, and metal fireplaces. To the casual passerby a tent Is merely a tent—they all look exactly alike. But let him step into one of these tents-; into one of those little canvas homes in which the occupant takes , a pride, and ho would be amazed at the ingenuity displayed in the fitting out of the dwellings. On many occasions, when a passing traveller has called in to inquire his way, or about the state of the road, further on, before he tendered his inquiry, I have seen his look of incredulity and heard his ejaculation of surprise : “ By Jove, you’re comfy here!” Try to picture the scene. A wild night outside, and there is the portent of snow in the breatli of, the icy wind. The interior of the tent is warmly lighted by a kerosene lamp. The log fire blazes merrily. The wind, blows fiercer, followed by staccato hail that drums, on. the tight, canvas. The two occupants, secure from the wild elements without, grin cheerfully and predict to-morrow as a “ day for the King.” The standard furnishings usually supplied with the tent are two buiiks and' a table, but many knick-knacks that’ make for more comfort maybe added, according to the ingenuity and resourcefulness of the owners. In colder climates sacks are often used to line the interior, and though this tends to darken the tent, it adds appreciably to_ its warmth. Then there is the matter of interior decoration—very important in the eyes of the occupants. This is effected by the cutting of illustrations from magazines and periodicals and pasting them on the walls. Mae West, with her “ come up and seb mo some time ” smile, looks brazenly across at the King, resplendent in _ field-marshal’s uniform. There are bevies of popular actresses. The latest addition to the Cunard fleet, Captain Campbell and his Bluebird in action, and Herr Hitler in characteristic pose. These decorations number anything from half a dozen to a couple of hundreds, and the displays are a source of considerable pride ( to the owners. Books, with which most of the camps are usually provided, help to pass away much of the spare time of the tentdwellers, and here tastes in literature are often greatly diversified. A man with a liking for Shakespeare may share a tent with one who enthuses over ‘ The Exploits of the Black Gang.’ Bernard Shaw and Edgar 'Wallace rub shoulders on the same shelves'. The tent-dwellers are a cosmopolitan throng—mere youngsters, ex-soldiers and ex-seamen, men who have trod the soil of many lands. They tell of . Jutland; of war in the desert an 4 in France; of records smashed in Queensland shearing-sheds. As in every case where men are banded together, there is the practical joker. The type of man who, on one occasion, complained of a sick headache to the boss, went back to the camp; and lit all the tent fires _ which had been previously set in readiness for the evening. The same individual _ will further distinguish himself by rising early some snowy morning and sounding ' the breakfast gong hours before time. ■ • ■■■ . . Then there are the camp instrumentalists—some of them remarkably talented. I shan’t easily forget Rio Moon ’ and ‘ Lily of Lagoona ’ played on two excellently manipulated banjos and a guitar, while several male voices harmonised splendidly in song. Many of the tents are named—always ‘incongruously. There will be Buckingham Palace, Sing Sing, The Boudoir. For some reason, a few of the tents will become more popular than others, and the owner’s night at home will be every night of tlio week. Ihese tents will'always have visitors, often more than can be comfortably accommodated. The others will gather there nightly to sing, yarn, or play cards. . Quarrels may occur occasionally among the tent-dwellers, disagreements which sometimes lead to blows, but they are soon forgotten. Camp me may have its disadvantages, but there is also much in its favour. It is a healthy life. There is a certain camaraderie, the’spirit of good fellowship, and one is never lonely.