ey had been stones.

Buried, or in Holes.--A European can live through a bitter night, on a
perfectly dry sandy plain, without any clothes besides what he has on, if
he buries his body pretty deeply in the sand, keeping only his head above
ground. It is a usual habit of the naked natives in Australia to do so,
and not an unfrequent one of the Hottentots of South Africa. Mr. Moffat
records with grateful surprise how he passed a night, of which he had
gloomy forebodings, in real comfort, even luxury, by adopting this
method. A man may be as comfortable in a burrow as in a den. I shall
speak of underground houses under "Hutting;" and for the present will
only mention that, in arid countries, dry wells, dug by natives and
partially choked by drifted sand, are often to be met with. They are
generally found near existing watering-places, where they have been
superseded by others, better placed and deeper. Now, there are few warmer
sleeping-places than one of these dry wells; a small fire is easily kept
burning at the bottom, and the top may be partially roofed over.

In Ashes of Camp Fire.--A few chill hours may be got over, in a plain
that affords no other shelter, by nestling among the ashes of a recently
burnt-out camp fire.

Warm Carcases.--In Napoleon's retreat, after his campaign in Russia, many
a soldier saved or prolonged his life by creeping within the warm and
reeking carcase of a horse that had died by the way.

By the water-side.--A stony beach makes a fine dry encamping-place, and
has this advantage, that it makes it impossible for marauders to creep up
unheard. But the immediate neighbourhood of fresh water is objectionable,
for, besides being exposed to malaria and mosquitoes, the night air is
more cold and penetrating by its side, than at one or two hundred yards'
distance from it. (I will speak of walls of rushes and reeds, under
"Huts.")

By Rocks.--In the cruel climate of Thibet, Dr. Hooker tells us that it is
the habit to encamp close to some large rock, because a rock absorbs heat
all day, and parts with it but slowly during the night-time. It is,
therefore, a reservoir of warmth when the sun is down, and its
neighbourhood is coveted in the night-time. Owing to the same cause,
acting in the opposite direction, the shadow of a broad rock is
peculiarly cool and grateful, during the heat of the day, in a thirsty
land.

On Heather.--Mr. St. John tells us of an excellent way in which Highland
poachers,