"You Boy Scout? Me Scout too!" and he took him home to tea, and looked after him, and thus they became good friends.
So you see the use of being a Scout and of wearing your badge.
Even in everyday life at home it is also a good thing to do, because you may often have a chance of doing a good turn to a stranger Boy Scout if he could only recognise that you were a scout.
I suppose there is not a day passes without my coming across a Scout, in plain clothes, wearing his buttonhole badge and so I am able to spot him and to have a chat with him. Whereas, if he had not had his badge on, I should probably never have noticed him.
Also, it is a sign to outsiders. People have got to know now how useful the Scouts are, and they are often anxious to get hold of one to help them in some difficulty. Well, if they see a boy coming along with the badge on, they know that he is a Scout, though not in uniform, and they are able to ask him to do them the good turn.
So wear your buttonhole badge for the sake of other people.
A Scout should be polite to all—but especially to women and children, old people and invalids, cripples, etc. And he must not take any reward for being helpful or courteous.
Courteousness is much the same sort of thing as Chivalry, which is closely allied to Honour. Both were practised in the old days by the Knight's, who went about risking their lives in order to defend and help the weaker people, women and children, against bullies and marauders.
Why did they do this?
It did not bring them money, for it would be a disgrace to a Knight to accept any reward for doing a good turn. It only brought them danger of wounds or death. It was an adventure. They were good sportsmen and manly fellows. Their conscience told them that it was right for the strong and plucky man to protect those who were weaker than himself. They were not obliged to do it by the law of the land, but there was a stronger law which appealed to them—and that was their own sense of Honour which led them to be chivalrous men.
Honour was thespiritthat moved them;
Chivalry was the putting into practice what their Honour bade them do.
The ordinary boy has no chivalry—at least, he has got it all right under the surface, only he is in the silly-ass stage, and he forgets it. If he sees a poor hunchback or a cripple he will often laugh or stare at him. He forgets that the other is an unfortunate, and has had the bad luck to be born that way.
A healthy boy on seeing a deformed person ought to thank God that he is himself sound in body and able to enjoy life, and he should do what he can to make things pleasant for his less fortunate brother.
That, is what a Scout would do, because he is chivalrous.
* * * * *
Sir, you that desire to receive the Order of Knighthood, swear, before God, and by this Holy Book, that you shall not fight against the King, who now bestoweth the Order of Knighthood upon you; you shall also swear with all your force and power to maintain and defend all ladies, gentlewomen, widows, orphans, and distressed women; and you shall shun no adventure of your person in any way or war wherein you shall happen to be.
Fourteen hundred years ago the old Knights of Britain used to be sworn to do their duty in these words.
Their oath was much the same as the promise which the "young Knights" of the present time make when they become Boy Scouts, for they promise to serve God and the King, and to help others, especially women and children, and not to think of their own trouble or risk so long as they do a good turn to others needing help.
The Knights, being mounted men, were called the "Chivalry," the old word for "Cavalry"—from the Latin "cavallus" and the French "cheval," meaning a horse.
Then any noble act done by the Knights was said to be "Chivahous" orKnight-like.
So the word "chivalry" now means doing things which the Knights of old did.
It is chivalry to do one's duty to God and the King, to help women and children, and all people in distress; and to be plucky and brave in carrying out one's duty.
That is why Boy Scouts are frequently being described in the papers as "chivalrous." I hope they will go on and continue to deserve the title.
One great step in "Courteousness" is to be grateful when anybody does you a "good turn," and to tell them you are grateful by saying "Thank you." It is a little thing to do, but it is a great thing to the person who has done the kindness to feel that it was not thrown away.
* * * * *
A bus drove by under my window. It was crowded with people, inside and out. On the outside every seat was filled, so much so that one woman had to stand. I saw men look round at her, one apparently annoyed because she accidentally jostled his newspaper, but none offered to give her his seat.
They were most of them well-to-do men, such as go by the name of gentlemen so far as their dress and appearance went but when it came to the true test of a gentleman, that is, the feeling of chivalry and politeness to women, the only gentleman among them was a working boy, a lad of about fifteen, in dirty clothes, with dirty hands and face.
When he saw a woman standing he at once left his seat and beckoned her into it. I hope that some of his so-called betters had the good sense to feel ashamed at being taught manners by a working boy. Perhaps he was a Scout. At any rate, he acted as a Scout would in the same circumstances.
* * * * *
Many people are inclined to think that the word "gentleman" means a man who was born rich, and that a boy brought up at expensive schools and colleges must therefore be a gentleman when he has grown up. But this does not always follow.
A fellow who is lucky enough to have been brought up in that way has certainly better chances of being a gentleman than many a poor boy has; but at the same time a poor boy can be just as good a gentleman as a rich one.
A gentleman is what the word says; he is a man, but a gentle man, not a rough, bullying, coarse customer, but a fellow who, though big and strong, can be kind and chivalrous and helpful to other people.
As good a sample as any of a "gentleman" is the London policeman. He is at all times courteous and helpful to others, even to the extent of being ready to risk his life at any moment to save people in cases of accidents, or to protect them against rough handling, and he treats rich and poor, old and young, with equal attention and patience, and good humour.
* * * * *
Several years ago I spent, some time with Arabs in North Africa, in Tunisia and Algeria, and I found them first-rate fellows, They were very fond of any kind of adventurous sport, and were hospitable and courteous.
Numbers of them used to come out with their dogs to help me to find game, and after a long day's beating in the thorn bush and high grass, when we finished hunting, they used to shake hands and go off home, quite happy if I had had a good day, and not expecting or seeking for a tip or a reward as is so generally the case, I am sorry to say, in England. Men here seem to think that they ought to be paid for every blessed thing they do.
The Arab chiefs, too, were kindly hosts, they gave me the best of food, generally a sort of Irish stew of chickens and rice, and made me comfortable in their own tents at night under their blankets.
They are very clean people, very brave, very courteous and very honourable. So they are true Scouts of the Desert. They have a number of little camp customs which Scouts ought to know—and many of them are like those practised by scouts.
Arabs are always very strict in saluting each other.
The custom of saluting came, as you know, from the old times, when everybody carried weapons, and the act of raising the right hand on meeting another man was meant to show that you had not got a weapon in that hand, and were therefore a friend.
It is exactly the same to this day with the Zulus and other South African tribes, who carry clubs and assegais; on meeting each other they pass their weapons into the left hand, and raise their right to show that it is empty, and that therefore they don't mean to fight you.
So it is, too, with the Arabs.
If a horseman meets a man on foot, the horseman salutes first, because he is in the more powerful position, and it is only fair that the man on foot should therefore have his weapon ready till he knows that the mounted man is friendly.
In the same way, if a man is sitting down and another walks up to him, the man who is walking is in the better position for attacking, so he salutes first to show that he is friendly.
It is very bad form to pitch your tent close to the water supply of the camp, because it looks as if you were taking possession of the spring, and that anyone else wanting to use it would have to get your permission or be liable to be attacked by you when getting his water. So an Arab always pitches his tent at some little distance away from the spring or well, in order to show that it is free to all.
When an Arab comes to a strange camp he rides up to the largest tent and dismounts., and walks straight to the fire around which the inhabitants are sitting. He then says in a loud voice:
"Peace be with you."
All those sitting round the fire get up and reply:
"And with you, peace."
Law 6. A SCOUT IS A FRIEND TO ANIMALS.
_He should save them, so far as possible, from pain, and should not kill any animal unnecessarily, even if it is only a fly, for it is one of God's creatures. Killing an animal for food, or an animal which is harmful, is allowable.
It is a curious thing that animals and children both seem to recognise a good man when they meet him, and are at once friendly with him; and I have always found that the bravest men are in their turn kind to them.
You must have noticed how our soldiers at the Front and our sailors in the Fleet all seem to have their pet animals and mascots, and when I was in France I noticed on many occasions our men playing with the little French children among their ruined homes close up to the firing line.
They were all the best of friends: although they knew scarcely a word of each other's language.
In the same way as a Knight or a Boy Scout is chivalrous to weaker folk, so he is chivalrous also to animals.
Animals are weaker folk than ourselves in the matter of mind and understanding, but they can be very affectionate and faithful where they have learnt that the human being, though strongenough tohurt, them, is kind and gentle. They are quick to show that they appreciate such kindness. You know how your own dog half-curls himself round Wagging his tail and grinning with pleasure when he sees you; and also how your horse nuzzles you all over to find the sugar that he knows you are going to give him.
So give animals all the kindness you can, and make their lives happy.
Many boys are inclined to be cruel simply because they don't think—they are not yet manly enough—they are, as I said before, in the silly-ass stage.
But a Scout who is manly and chivalrous towards people will at all times be the same towards animals. It is wonderful what pleasure you can get out of it in return, whether you train your dog to obey your slightest sign, or whether you tame a robin to be your friend.
The other day I came across a proprietor of a garage who showed himself to be a good and kindly man because he had supplied the Scout troop of the town with a loft to use as a club-room. But he proved to me that he was a good man by taking me into his sitting-room and showing me his tame canary, which did every kind of trick at his command, and sang to him, answered his whistle, and came at his call and kissed him.
Apart from the interest of training an animal in confinement, there is all the fun and adventure to be got out of stalking and watching animals and birds in the wild and learning their ways and customs. The more you do this, and the more you understand about how they are made and how they do their various works, the better you will understand the wonders of Nature and of the Creator.
* * * * *
A man who studies birds is called an ornithologist. Mark Twain, the amusing yet kind-hearted American writer, says:
"There are fellows who write books about birds and love them so much that they'll go hungry and tired to find a new kind of bird—and kill it.
"They are called 'ornithologers.'
"I could have been an 'ornithologer' myself, because I always loved birds and creatures. And I started out to learn how to be one. I saw a bird sitting on a dead limb of a high tree, singing away with his head tilted back and his mouth open—and, before I thought, I fired my gun at him; his song stopped all suddenly, and he fell from the branch, limp like a rag, and I ran and picked him up—and he was dead. His body was warm in my hand, and his head rolled about this way and that, like as if his neck was broke, and there was a white skin over his eyes, and one drop of red blood sparkled on the side of his head-and-laws! I couldn't see nothing for the tears."
"I haven't ever murdered no creature since then that warn't doing me no harm—and I ain't agoing to neither."
A good Scout is generally a good "ornithologer," as Mark Twain calls him. That is to say, he likes stalking birds and watching all that they do. He discovers, by watching them, where and how they build their nests.
He does not, like the ordinary boy, want to go and rob them of their eggs, but he likes to watch how they hatch out their young and teach them to feed themselves and to fly. He gets to know every species of bird by its call and by its way of flying; and he knows which birds remain all the year round and which only come at certain seasons; and what kind of food they like best, and how they change their plumage, what sort of nests they build, where they build them, and what the eggs are like.
A good many birds are almost dying out in Great Britain, because so many boys bag all their eggs when they find their nests.
Birds'-nesting is very like big-game shooting—you look out in places that, as a hunter, you know are likely haunts of the birds you want; you watch the birds fly in and out and you find the nest. But you do not then go and destroy the nest and take all the eggs. If you are actually a collector, take one egg and leave the rest, and, above all, don't pull the nest about, otherwise the parent birds will desert it, and all those eggs, which might have developed into jolly young birds will be wasted.
Far better than taking the eggs is to take a photograph, or to make a sketch of the hen sitting on her nest, or to make a collection of pictures of the different kinds of nests built by the different kinds of birds.
Aberdeen, in Scotland, is supposed to be specially well off for skylarks for the following reason:
A few years ago there came a very severe gale and snow-storm late in March, and all the high ground inland was so buried under snow and ice that the birds were all driven to the Lower land near the coast. The fields by the seashore were covered with them.
Numbers of people went out to catch them with birdlime, nets, snares, and guns. Large numbers were taken alive to be 'sent to market' in London and other towns.
One gentleman found a man selling a big cage full of them. They were crowded up to a fearful extent, and all fluttering with terror at their imprisonment, struggling over each other in their frantic desire to escape. He felt so sorry for them that he bought the whole lot, and took them to his warehouse, where he was able to give them plenty of room and food and water.
Then he offered to buy all the larks that were being captured for the market at market prices. In this way he received over a thousand; and these he put in a big room, where they had comparative freedom and plenty of food. It is said that the noise of their singing in the morning was almost deafening, and crowds of birds used to gather over the house to hear them.
At last the bad weather passed off, the sun shone out again, and the fields became green and bright, and then the kind man who had housed the birds opened the windows of the room and all the birds flew out in a happy crowd, chirping and singing as they mounted into the bright, warm air, or fluttered off to the adjoining fields and woods. And there they built their nests and hatched out their young, so that to-day the song of the lark is to be heard everywhere round Aberdeen.
* * * * *
One January I went "bird's-nesting" with a party of Scout-masters. It seems an odd time of year to do that; but we really went to see how they manage to persuade birds to come and make their nests in the Bird Sanctuary, near Brentford, just outside London.
We went into the big wood there, and soon found ourselves in the presence of birds, for everywhere one could hear the piping, trilling, and whistling of unseen warblers, and every now and then one of them would flit across our path.
Then, on the side of almost every tree, we noticed a small box, entirely closed up except for a small hole in the front. These were the "nesting-boxes," and every spring the birds come and make their nests in these boxes, and bring up their families. The consequence is that the place is now alive with singing birds.
The son of Mr. Mark Webb, the manager of the Sanctuary, is in his teens, but he knows everything about the birds that come there and their ways, and he also knows all the different kinds of plants and trees that grow in the wood. He is a very complete stalker-Scout, and evidently gets a lot of fun and satisfaction out of watching the birds and their doings.
Well, almost any Scout can do the same, and my advice to you is to make a nesting-box or two as soon as you can, and put them up on trees. Then, at the proper time, you may have the satisfaction of seeing some rare kind of bird coming to your box and raising a family there.
The box should be eight to ten inches high, by six wide and deep, and the top preferably sloping to run any rain off.
[Illustration: A NESTING-BOX FOR BIRDS.]
The door is a small round or pear-shaped hole near the top of the box, so that there is plenty of room for the nest below it.
A little ledge for the birds, and especially the young ones, to rest upon, is a good thing to have on the front of the box. If possible, paint your box roughly with dabs of green and brown to make it match the tree stem and leaves, and put on it the name of your patrol and troop if you like.
Then fix it to a tree trunk about six feet above the ground, where it is safe from rats or snakes, and on the side of the tree farthest from the path, if there be one near, so that the birds will not be frightened by passers-by. If it is on the sunny side, so much the better.
Birds will build in almost anything which offers them safety and shelter; an old kettle, for instance, or an old tin pot is a favourite site for a nest. If you scatter a few crumbs or grains of corn about your box every day at first, the birds will become accustomed to it, and will soon adopt it as their home.
Any Scout who has not a tree of his own to hang his box on can probably get leave to put it up, if he asks nicely, in some neighbour's wood or garden, or in a park, and can then visit it from time to time to see how it is getting on.
Most nesting-boxes have their roof, or front, on hinges, or made so that it can slide off; but it does not do to examine the nest when once it is made, or the old birds will desert it.
* * * * *
The movements of birds as they change their quarters still puzzle the naturalists.
It is marvellous how they seem to like travelling, and no one can understand why they take certain paths through the air when they are doing it.
For instance, the black pool warbler, in America, spends its summer in Alaska, and goes down to South America for the winter. It takes the straightest course it can from Alaska to Brazil, flying over land and sea—and a wide sea, too, is the Gulf of Mexico. But the cliff swallow, which also spends the winter in Brazil and the summer in North Canada, takes quite a different route, and goes an extra 2000 miles in order to avoid going over the sea, and follows the land all round by Panama, Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala, Mexico, and so through the United States.
The distances which birds cover when "migrating" are enormous. Some American plovers are known to travel for 8000 miles, one part of the journey being 2500 miles without resting as they pass over the sea.
The arctic tern goes even farther, it nests near the North Pole, and then makes its way down to near the South Pole, a journey of 11,000 miles.
Perhaps you wonder how we know that the birds travel these long distances. Well, a good many naturalists and stalkers catch birds when young or tired and mark them by putting a small ring round their leg with a number on it. Then other naturalists keep a look out in other parts of the world, and when they kill or find a bird with such a number on it they report it.
Aberdeen University marked a large number of birds in this way—with a tiny aluminium ring round the bird's leg, with the words "Aberdeen University" and a number on it.
A wild duck which they had marked in Scotland was caught in a net the same year in Holland.
Of five lapwings marked in Aberdeenshire, four were shot in Ireland the same year, and one in Portugal, 1250 miles away. A song-thrush was also shot in Portugal, which had been marked in Scotland the same year.
A young guillemot was taken from its nest in Aberdeenshire and marked, and less than five months afterwards it was shot in Sweden.
So, you see, it is interesting to watch in this way what the birds do in the travelling line.
Scouts can help in keeping a look out, and if ever they capture or hear of a bird marked with a ring, they should report it to Professor A. Thomson, The University, Aberdeen. They should state the number on the ring, the kind of bird, where found, and the date on which it was found.
* * * * *
The boar is certainly the bravest of all animals: he is the real "King of the Jungle," and the other animals all know it. If you watch a drinking-pool in the jungle at night, you will see the animals that come to it all creeping down nervously, looking out in every direction for hidden enemies. But when the boar comes he simply swaggers down, with his great head and shiny tusks swinging from side to side; he cares for nobody, but everybody cares for him; even a tiger drinking at the pool will give a snarl and sneak quickly out of sight.
I have often lain out on moonlight nights to watch the animals, especially wild boars, in the jungle, and it is just as good fun as merely going after them to kill them.
And I have caught and kept a young wild boar and a young panther, and found them most amusing and interesting little beggars. The boar used to live in my garden, and he never became really tame, though I got him as a baby.
He would come to me when I called him—but very warily; he would never come to a stranger, and a native he would "go for," and try to cut him with his little tusks.
He used to practise the use of his tusks while turning at full speed round an old tree stump in the garden, and he would gallop at this and round it in a figure of eight continuously for over five minutes at a time, and then fling himself down on his side, panting with his exertions.
My panther was also a beautiful and delightfully playful beast, and used to go about with me like a dog; but he was very uncertain in his dealings with strangers.
I think one gets to know more about animals and to understand them better by keeping them as pets first, and then going and watching them in their wild, natural life.
But before going to study big game in the jungles, everybody must study all animals, wild and tame, at home. It would be a very good thing if every Scout kept some kind of animal, such as a pony or a dog, birds or rabbits, or even live butterflies.
Every Boy Scout ought to know all about the tame animals which he sees every day. You ought to know all about grooming feeding, and watering a horse, about putting him into harness or taking him out of harness, and putting him in the stable, and know when he is going lame and should not therefore be worked.
* * * * *
A lady was walking on the Sussex Downs with her old father, who was an invalid. Suddenly, she saw below her a number of sheep penned in, as they often are, for the night. Two large dogs had got among them, and the bodies of two dead sheep told of the mischief already done, while the other frightened sheep were huddled together, waiting for their turn to be attacked.
The lady did not know what to do; she did not like to leave her invalid father alone while she went down, and it was far too steep a descent for the latter to attempt.
Just then, round the corner came five Scouts, quite small, the eldest being only thirteen years old. They soon took in the situation and advanced to the fray. When the dogs saw them, they left the sheep and rushed, barking, at them, and the Scouts fled. But only for a minute!
A council of war was held, and again they advanced, poles in hand, and this time succeeded in driving off the dogs. The last the lady saw was the plucky little patrol kneeling, with their coats off, round a poor sheep on the ground. After that, she left, feeling the sheep was in good hands.
In a few moments the sheep revived, its temples were laved with water, some of which it also drank and enjoyed. Still, it was beyond standing alone, and what was to be done next?
A stretcher was made with the poles and coats, and then came the difficulty of getting the heavy body on to the stretcher. At last this difficulty was overcome, and the procession started over the rough field to the farm, two miles off.
At last the farm was reached, and the Scouts, after helping the farmer render further, and perhaps more useful, first-aid, started on their journey homeward.
This is an absolutely true story. What would have happened twenty years ago had five town boys seen those dogs at work destroying sheep?
They might perhaps have run away, possibly to seek help, but I am none too sure that they would not have looked on and rather enjoyed it, merely thinking what a good story they would have to tell their comrades on their return home.
Scouting has not only taught boys what to do in an emergency, but it has taught, and is teaching, our small boys the meaning of love and kindness to other human beings and also to animals.
* * * * *
The following is what Lord Nelson wrote about a bull fight which he went to see in Spain:
"The amphitheatre will hold 16,000 people, and some 12,000 were present. Ten bulls were selected, and one brought out at a time. Three cavaliers on horseback and foot men with flags were the combatants. We had what is called a fine 'feast,' for five horses were killed and two men very much hurt; had they been killed it would have been quite complete.
"We felt for the bulls and the horses, and I own it would not have displeased me to have seen some of the dons (Spaniards) tossed by the enraged animals.
"How women can even sit out, much less applaud, such sights is astonishing. It even turned us sick, and we could hardly go through it; the dead, mangled horses and the bulls covered with blood were too much. We have seen one bull feast, and agree that nothing shall ever tempt us to see another-"
This is what Nelson, the hero of many a grimly fought battle, has written, and it shows how even a man accustomed to the sight of blood and death can be horrified and disgusted at it when it is done as a form of sport and at the cost of pain to dumb animals.
Scouts should always remember this in dealing with animals, and have the same feeling which that prince of sea scouts, Nelson, had.
* * * * *
I met a young Patrol-leader going along in a hurry, evidently on duty. So I asked him where he was off to, and he replied that he was going to call his patrol together—there are only three in it at present—and to get three more Tenderfoots to join it at once, as they had serious work on hand.
I then found out from his father that the serious work was this: The patrol had come across a lot of boys torturing some frogs by blowing them out with straws. The Scouts were not strong enough to stop them, but they went to the police constable, and asked if they might take the law into their own hands and "go for" these boys.
The policeman consented, and now they were going to raise their patrol to full strength in order to tackle the torturers, and put a stop to the cruelty to the frogs.
I heard afterwards that they were successful.
Law 7. A SCOUT OBEYS ORDERS of his parents, Patrol-leader, orScoutmaster without question.
Evenif he gets an order which he does not like, a Scout must doASsoldiersAND SAILORS DO,orAS _he would do if he got it _FROMhisCAPTAINin a football match—he must carry it out all the same, because it is his duty; after he has done it he can come and state any reasons against it: but he must carry out the order at once. That is discipline.
* * * * *
Suppose you were playing outside forward in a football match, and you were on the ball with a good opening for a run before you, when you suddenly heard your captain shout "Centre!" What would you do? Go on with the ball, or pass it to a centre player?
You would, of course, obey the captain's order and pass it.
Why?
Because you know that if every fellow played the game for his own fun and glory, his side would never win—the team would be all over the place.
To prevent this, each player has got his certain allotted place in the field, and the captain, who is best placed for seeing how the game is going on, is able to give directions that will help his side to win.
Of course, the success depends on every player doing his best to carry out his captain's orders efficiently and well.
It is not only in football or hockey that this system brings success, but in every game of life.
We see it just now on a very big scale at the Front—in the great game of war—where men obey their captains' orders not only when it is inconvenient to them to do so, but often when it means danger and death to them. But in doing it they well know that, though they are sacrificing themselves, they are helping their side to win; and that is the right, spirit in which to play the game of life.
Therefore, even in small things, get yourself into the habit, of obeying orders whether or not you like doing it.
If you can thus make a practice of it in small everyday matters like obeying your parents at home, or your Patrol-leader when scouting, obedience will come quite natural to you in the bigger duties of life, and you will then be looked upon by both your comrades and your officers as a really valuable man—one who can be trusted to play in his place and to play the game in obedience to the rules and to his captain, not for his own glorification but in order that his side may win.
* * * * *
When Gibraltar was being besieged a hundred and thirty years ago by the French and Spaniards on land and sea, the British Troops holding the place stuck it out valiantly for three long years, and were in the end relieved by the Fleet from home. But though there were many who wanted to give in and were dead sick of the whole thing, General Elliott, the commander of the garrison, showed such dogged determination, and insisted on such strict discipline, that he held the garrison together.
His measures for defence were so successful that every man realised that the real road to safety and success was strict obedience to his orders. In fact, it was a case where obedience won the day. And they loved and admired the old general, too, for his pluck, his humanity, and his sense of humour.
On one occasion a man ventured to disobey an order that was given to him, and when he was brought before the commander the General said that if a man could disobey an order at such a critical time he could not be in his right mind, he must be mad. Therefore he ordered that the usual treatment accorded to a lunatic should be applied to the offender. His head was to be shaved, he was to be blistered and bled, and kept in a padded cell on a light diet of bread and water—and also be prayed for in church.
Well, the General was quite right. If a man cannot obey orders when there is danger to all he must be mad. But it is difficult for a man to be obedient at such a time if he has never learnt to be obedient in ordinary times, and that is why discipline is so strongly kept up in both the Army and Navy in peace time.
A man is taught to obey even the smallest order most carefully and without hesitation, until it becomes such a habit with him that when an order is given him, a big or dangerous one, he carries it out, at once without any question. And, when everybody can be trusted to obey orders, it is an easy thing for the commander to manoeuvre his troops and conduct the battle with some chance of success.
You remember the story which I told you inScouting for Boysabout the shipBirkenhead, on board of which discipline and obedience were so splendidly shown by the soldiers.
The ship was carrying about 630 soldiers, with their families, and 130 seamen. Near the Cape of Good Hope one night she ran on to some rocks, and began to break up. The soldiers were at once paraded on deck half-dressed as they were, just out of their hammocks.
Some were told off to get out the boats and to put the women and children into them, and others were told off to get the horses up out of the hold, and to lower them overboard into the sea, in order that they might have a chance of swimming ashore.
When this had all been done, it was found that there were not enough boats to take everybody, and so the men were ordered to remain in their ranks on the deck, while the women and children, with a few men to row them, moved off from the sinking ship.
The boats had not gone far when the ship broke into half and began to go down. The captain shouted to the men to jump overboard and save themselves, but the Colonel, Colonel Seaton, interrupting the captain ordered the men to stand where they were, and to keep their ranks, for he saw that if they swam to the boats and tried to get in they would probably sink them too.
So the men kept their ranks, and as the ship rolled over and sank, they gave a cheer and went down with her.
Out of the whole 760 on board only 192 were saved, but even these would probably have been lost had it not been for the discipline and self-sacrifice of the others in obeying the order to keep their ranks and not to try to get into the boats.
So you see the value of discipline in a difficult crisis or moment of danger.
The great Duke of Wellington, who was Commander-in-Chief of the British Army, when describing this heroic act on theBirkenhead, praised very highly the discipline of the men—he did not praise their bravery. It was brave of them, but he considered that all Britons are naturally brave—he expected bravery of them. But discipline is another thing; it has to be learnt.
In battle or in a big danger a brave man may be very useful, but if he does pretty much as he pleases he is not half so valuable as the man who, besides being brave, has also learnt, to obey every order at once.
Watch firemen at work. They are all brave enough; they would all like to be at the top of the ladder fighting the flames, but their discipline makes them work at their different jobs, each playing in his place, obeying orders, and doing his share in order that the fire may be put out, not that he should win special glory or excitement for himself.
Even in the streets there is discipline. The policeman regulates the traffic so that all vehicles moving in one direction keep to one side of the road, and thus allow the traffic in the opposite direction to keep moving along the other side. But if one 'bus-driver did not feel inclined to obey orders, but dashed about in his own way, not caring to which side of the road he went so long as he went ahead, there would be accidents and delay in no time, and the whole traffic would be upset. If you are in business with a large number of others, it is useful for the good of the whole that you obey the orders which you receive from those who are in authority over you. If the seniors can be sure that their assistants will carry out their orders, they can carry on the business properly. Discipline is necessary everywhere, but the thing is to learn while you are young to carry it out in small things, so that you would be able to do so when it comes to your turn to do it in a great difficulty or danger. In order to do this you have to be able to command yourself in the first place.
The soldier does not go into a battle because he likes it. It is a dangerous place, and he feels inclined to run away; but he commands himself, and says "I must go whether I like it or not, because it is my duty."
When he gets his orders from his officers to attack the enemy, he would probably be more anxious still to go in the opposite direction, but he commands himself and says: "I must obey the orders of my officers."
And the officers obey the orders of the general, and so the whole force moves everywhere to the attack simply from a spirit of discipline, each man making himself do his proper share, so that although he may lose his life, yet his side may win the battle.
So it will be with you every day. You will have your duty to do, when often you would much rather do your pleasure, or play some games; but you have to command yourself and order yourself to do your duty in the first place, and amuse yourself afterwards.
When you succeed in doing this, and in always obeying the orders of your officer readily and cheerily, in small things as well as in great things, you will soon find that it becomes a habit with you and not a trouble, so that when the time comes for you to carry out some difficult and dangerous order you will be able to do it at once, without any hesitation and with complete success for the good of your side—that is, for the good of your business, your employer, or of your Country, without thinking of the difficulty or danger to yourself.
With a Scout, your "Duty" is to do a good turn to somebody every day. Your "Discipline" makes you command yourself to carry this out, even though it may be irksome or dangerous, and though nobody is there to see you do it. You do it because it is your duty and you are trusted, on your honour, to do it.
* * * * *
I once had a brave scout in my force in the South African War. He was a brave man and an active scout, but he was not good at obeying orders, and in the end this cost him his life and did harm to our plans.
We had news of a force of the enemy which did not know of our presence in that part of the country. So we hid ourselves, meaning to surprise and capture them when they came along.
The orders were that not a sound was to be made and not a manwasto show himself, and these orders were faithfully carried out—except by this one scout. He thought he knew better than others, and he slipped away unseen to go and look out for the enemy's approach.
Presently he spied a hostile scout and fired at him; the enemy's scout returned his fire, and after a short duel both of them fell mortally wounded.
But the noise of their shooting gave the alarm to the enemy's force; more came upon the spot, and, finding a British scout there, they naturally guessed that there must be more in the neighbourhood, so they took all precautions, sent out scouts in all directions, and then, coming on our tracks, at last discovered our hiding-place, and gave warning to their own side, who were then able to make their escape.
If my scout had only learnt, when a boy, how to obey orders, it might have made a great difference that day to him, to us—and to the enemy.
* * * * *
Here is a text which will help Scouts to discipline themselves:
That was the advice given by a "self-made merchant to his son." He meant, don't exercise your jaws by talking if you have nothing important to say don't talk for the mere sake of talking; and, above all, don't argue when you get an order.
Boys, you know, are rather fond of asking endless silly questions. Before speaking you should think first whether what you are going to say is really necessary or not, and then don't waste words or other people's attention if it is not. If youmustkeep your jaw wagging, our American friend says "chew gum."
* * * * *
In the expedition to Ashanti, on the Gold Coast, West Africa, when we captured the King, Prempeh, he was carrying in his mouth a kind of nut which looked like big, fat cigar. We found that he did this to prevent himself talking too much.
If he felt inclined to make some meaningless remark, or in the heat of an argument to let out a hasty opinion, he could not do so without first having to take this impediment out of his mouth, and that gave him time to think twice about what he was going to say.
I often think it would be a good thing if every nasty-tempered fellow had to carry such a nut in his mouth, so that when he wanted suddenly to let out a volley of abuse it would give him time to think and stop it.
* * * * *
I heard of a lady who, when riding on Wimbledon Common, came across a party of Boy Scouts. She discovered their whereabouts by the immense amount of jabbering that was going on; so, being the wife of an officer, and knowing a good deal about scouting, she rode up to the Scouts, and told them just what I should have told them, that unless you practise keeping quiet at all times, you will forget to do so on some important occasion, and so will give yourselves away.
Scouts should always talk low and quietly, and also should always move quietly and lightly.
Remember on a still day or in the night a heavy, thumping footfall can be heard a long way off, even in open country, and very much more so in a street or in a house. So practise always treading lightly and silently, and you will soon gain the Scouts' habit of moving unheard.
I have heard from an officer at the Front, who regrets that two old Scouts whom he had with him have been killed or wounded. He found that ordinary soldiers would not move quietly at night, and so were useless to him. He has now got an ex-burglar as the next best thing to an ex-Boy Scout!
Law 8. A SCOUT SMILES AND WHISTLES UNDER ALL DIFFICULTIES.
When he gets an order, he should obey it cheerily and readily, not in a slow, hang-dog _sort of way.
Scouts never grouse at hardships nor whine at each other, nor_ swear _when put out, but go on whistling and smiling. When you just miss a train, or someone treads on your favourite corn—not that Scouts should have such things as corns—or in any annoying circumstances, you should force yourself to smile at once, and then whistle a tune, and you will be all right.
The punishment for swearing or using bad language is for each offence, a_ mug of _cold water to be poured down the offender'ssleeve by the other Scouts. It was the punishment invented by the old British scout, Captain John Smith, three hundred years ago.
When I was encamped with my troop of Scouts at Humshaugh, Northumberland, a gentleman living in the neighbourhood invited us to come and visit the castle in which he lived. It was a beautiful old tower left much in the state in which it was when it formed one of the Border defences against Scotland. On the top was the fighting platform from which the archers fired their bolts and arrows, and the gunners fired their culverins. On the storey below were the rooms in which the family lived, and below these again were the guardrooms of the men-at-arms. On the ground-floor was the cattle stable into which the herds were driven for security when the enemy were around. The portcullis which closed the gateway was still in existence, hauled up and down by means of ropes over pulleys of which the levers were worked on the floor above.
In later and more peaceful times, that is in the reign of James I, a house was built on to the tower to give more room to the inhabitants.
In the hall of this house was a noble fireplace above which there was an elaborate overmantel of carved oak illustrating the seven Christian virtues. There were little statues representing Fortitude, Benevolence, Faith, etc., etc., all the qualities which a good Christian should possess and carry into practice. But I felt, after looking at them all, that there was still one virtue missing, and I suggested to the boys that you might carry out all these seven good qualities of a Christian without doing it to the best effect. You might carry it out as an order to be kind, to be helpful, to be chivalrous, and so on, but if you only did it because it was an order, and therefore did it grumpily, half its value was lost.
The important point is that when you know what is the right thing to do, you should jump to it and do it cheerily with a smile. Therefore I thought that we Scouts might add one more to these seven Christian virtues—namely Cheerfulness.
Then there is another good reason for being cheerful.
Have you ever noticed as you walk along the street how very few people look really happy? They are going along often with downcast eyes, and nearly always with dejected, serious countenances; if one comes along who looks at you smilingly it is a great relief, and makes you feel a bit happier yourself. Andthereis a reason why a Scout should go about with a smile on, because it makes other people happy. You may not always feel cheerful yourself, but you should not show this, as it will make other people feel glum, too. If you make yourself look cheerful, you will gradually find that you are becoming brighter.
If you are troubled or anxious, or in pain, force yourself to smile. It will be difficult at first; still, force yourself to do it, and you will find to your surprise that your trouble is not so great as you thought it was.
I have known men in action getting very anxious when great danger overshadowed them. But if one began to laugh and to talk cheerily, or to whistle, the cloud passed by and everybody bucked up and was ready to face the situation.
That is what makes our men so formidable in the war just now. In spite of heavy losses, in spite of overwhelming attacks against them, they have always kept up their spirits and therefore their pluck. It has often been the secret of their being able to hold their own, and it will be the secret of their coming out victorious in the end.
Remember this—and I have found it come true in hundreds of different kinds of cases:
"A difficulty ceases to be a difficulty directly you smile at it and tackle it."
* * * * *
During one of my visits to Birmingham, I saw a Rally of the local Scouts. One thing that struck me about them, besides their good work, was their cheerfulness. The outside of their programme had printed upon it portraits of eight of their smartest Scouts, and each one of these has a big grin on.
Well, that is what I like to see; fellows who can work, and work cheerily. It is just what our men are doing at the Front.
I saw a letter the other day from an officer describing how the men lived a miserable existence crouching in the trenches, always wet and cold and muddy, being shot at and shelled all the time, but they welcomed the shells as if they were friends, giving them the nicknames of Jack Johnsons, Black Marias, Woolly Bears, etc. He says of the men:
"If I were asked what struck me most, I would say that it was the marvellous cheerfulness of the men living in such awful circumstances. Every one to a man seemed happy. They are always ready for a joke, and they see fun in everything."
And that is why we shall succeed in this war, because our men see the bright side of it, and take things cheerfully and hopefully, even in the worst circumstances. It is also the way to succeed in peace time when doing work or suffering hardships or disappointments.
* * * * *
[Illustration: KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE DOG.]
One bit of advice I gave to the Birmingham Scouts was that, if ever you run a race with a dog, keep your eye on the dog, and don't look about at other things. I myself was an example of "how not to do it," for I had had a race with my dog—I was running in shorts—and he saw me looking round and promptly ran between my legs and threw me over. So I had to go to Birmingham on two sticks with a bandaged knee.
But what is true of a dog race is true of any other competition in life. When you start out to do a thing, keep your attention fixed on what you are doing, and do not let it wander off to other things, otherwise you may come a cropper.
It is a bit of a handicap to go about inspecting Scouts with one leg out of action, but still I was only carrying out the example of other Scouts.
There was Rob. Miller, a Scout at Whitby, who, when he lost a leg through a German shell, was quite cheery, and wrote to me that he felt it an honour to be the first Scout wounded whilst on duty, and that he meant to go on scouting notwithstanding the loss of a leg.
Another Scout who lost his eye through a Toby Tenderfoot fooling with a gun wrote to say that he could go scouting just as well with one eye as with two. That is the spirit of the scouts.
In addition to these, I had a fine example in a namesake of mine, Major H. G. Powell, out at the Front. He had left the Army some ten years ago, but when the war broke out he went back to his old regiment. In advancing to an attack he sprained his ankle badly. However, he got a stick and a chair from a neighbouring cottage, and continued to hobble along at the head of his men, sitting down whenever there was a halt and directing their operations from the chair. He went on doing this until he himself was hit and badly wounded, and he was able to be carried safely back still sitting in his chair.
[Illustration: A CHEERY OLD SCOUT.]
* * * * *
I suppose none of you Scouts who read this are cheerful, happy fellows! [I don't think!] But if you should happen to want to live to be 100 years old, here is the way to do it—written by one who has done it:
"Be cheery, and work hard!"
That is what Mrs. Rebecca Clark, of High Road, Wood Green, said a few days before she died, and she was 110 years old, so she ought to know.
I think that most Scouts are doing exactly what she recommends—so inA.D. 2010 there will be 200,000 old fellows of over 100 years of age,skipping about in bare knees and worn-out hats, singing: "Boys, BePrepared!"
* * * * *
Mrs. Scoresby Routledge, a well-known lady explorer, wrote to me once to say that while travelling in the Pacific she came across Scouts in all sorts of unexpected places.
After giving them a good character, she added that the only bad thing about Scouts was that they whistled.
She pointed out that a great many people already suffer from the noises in the streets of our towns, especially people who are ill and weak. Even small, harmless noises "get on their nerves," and keep them from resting. And whistling is one of these dreaded noises.
I hope Scouts, in going about the streets, will think of this, and tone down their whistling, as a good turn to people who may possibly be disturbed by it.
At the same time, I need not remind you that it is good to whistle and smile in a difficulty, when otherwise you might break out into curses, or into a cry of pain or of panic, or take to your fists (or your heels), according to what might be happening to you.
I have known fellows whistle in very bad times in action, and their whistling has not only kept them calm themselves, but has also made those around them feel calm and cheery, too.
* * * * *
At Timgad in Algeria there are some interesting ruins, among them being those of the theatre and the baths.
The theatre is a huge open-air one of horse-shoe shape with stone seats rising like steps above each other, and with a row of private boxes at the top.
The stage is a handsome one built of stone with fine marble pillars, and a back wall—for the Romans did not make use of painted scenery as we do—and behind the stage are the dressing-rooms for the actors.
The theatre itself was big enough to seat 3400 spectators, which is more than most theatres in London could do, and as Timgad was merely a country town of no very great size it shows that the Romans were as fond of theatrical plays as the English are of cinematograph shows to-day.
They were equally fond of bathing, and in this one town alone there were twelve public baths. They were what we call Turkish baths, that is, there were bathrooms of several grades of heat to be gone through—one tepid, the next warm, the next one very hot, and then cooler and cold, and the Romans were fond of taking these baths every day.
This is too much of a good thing, as it is apt to weaken a man. The Romans, as you know, were in the end driven out of their Empire, because they allowed themselves to become weak in mind and in body by too much laziness in theatre-going and continual hot baths.
One inhabitant had inscribed on a stone in Timgad what he thought to be the best form of happiness. He wrote:
"To hunt, to bathe, and to laugh—that's the way to live."
And there is a good deal in what he says, for in hunting you have to use much woodcraft and hard exercise, and keeping clean and being cheery is all part of the Scout's life.
But he has forgotten to mention one very important thing towards making your life a happy one, and I expect that any Scout could tell me at once what that point is—couldn't you?
He has left out the happiness which you get from doing a good turn. If he had slightly altered his sentence, and had put it this way:
"To scout, to bathe, to do a good turn, and to smile—that is the way to live and be happy," he would have said the truth, and he would have exactly described what every Boy Scout does.
* * * * *
This is one of the Scout mottoes.
Every Scout knows that when you examine footmarks on the ground, you should generally do so facing the sun, have them between you and the light, and you will see them all the better.
But that is not the meaning of this text; it has a second and bigger meaning.
It means that when there is any sunshine or brightness possible, look out for it when you are in trouble or misfortune, and make the most of it.
If you feel inclined to grumble at your lot because you have damaged your leg and can't play in a game of football, think of other poor cripples who never can play at all.
However down on your luck you may be, remember there is a bright lining to every cloud. There is some brightness somewhere, if only you look out for it and don't turn your back on it.
When things are looking their worst, and everybody is depressed, make up your mind that you, at any rate, will be hopeful.
Try to see where there is hope.
Remember St. Paul said that God was the "God of Hope." Hope gives you pluck and comfort at a bad time, and your hopefulness will comfort others round you and nerve them to stick it out.
* * * * *
Lord Roberts died the best death that could have been hoped for him. He died in the field, within the sound of the guns, doing his duty for his Country even at the age eighty-two.
It was very many years ago that I first got to know him. It was at Simla, in India. I had just joined the Army, and was enjoying myself in all the glory of my new uniform at a ball. I had gone to the refreshment-room to get something for my partner, but I could not make the native waiter understand what I wanted, as I had not at that time learnt any Hindustani.
A very small but very polite officer alongside me kindly explained to the servant what I wanted. Then he said to me that if I wanted to enjoy India I ought to learn the language as soon as possible. I should get much more fun out of the country if I could talk to the natives. And he asked me my name and where I was staying.
After thanking him, I thought no more about the matter till next day, when there arrived at my house a native teacher of Languages, who said that Sir Frederick Roberts had sent him to give me some lessons!
Thus, like everybody else, I began my acquaintance with him by heartily liking him. He had gone out of his way to do a kindness to a young officer of whom he knew nothing. But that was just like him—it was his way.
I need not tell you about his early career in the Army. Probably every Scout knows how, in the Mutiny in India in 1858, Lieutenant Roberts won the Victoria Cross. He had charged with the cavalry, and had followed the flying mutineers, when he saw one of them attacking a loyal native cavalryman.
Roberts at once dashed to his rescue and cut down the Sepoy. As he did so, he saw two more Sepoys making off with a regimental flag; so he pushed on after them, although single-handed and alone. He seized the Standard and cut down the man who held it. The other man aimed his rifle at him, close against him, and pulled the trigger but the gun failed to go off, and the man turned and fled for his life.
In 1880 Lord Roberts made his famous march in Afghanistan, from Kabul to relieve Kandahar, which was besieged by the Afghans. He took ten thousand men and marched the 320 miles in twenty-two days, which was a splendid performance in that difficult, mountainous desert. He arrived in time to relieve Kandahar and to inflict a very heavy defeat on the Afghans. For his splendid victory here he received the title of Lord Roberts "of Kandahar."
In 1900 he was Commander-in-Chief of the British forces in the Boer war in South Africa. Here again he displayed his self-sacrifice and determination.
His winning of the Victoria Cross had showed that, though a very small man—he was very nearly rejected from the Army because he was so small—he had great pluck. And he also had a great heart.
His pluck and self-control were perhaps better proved by his bracing himself up to send men to their death in battle when he loved them and would gladly have saved them if duty and the good of the Country were not at stake. And it was in South Africa that he met with the sorrow of his life, when his only son was killed in trying to save the guns at the battle of Colenso.
For his gallantry on this occasion young Roberts was awarded theVictoria Cross, although he was dead. It is seldom that the VictoriaCross has been won by both father and son.
In South Africa Lord Roberts again did me a kind act by riding out many miles to meet me on my coming into Pretoria after the siege of Mafeking.
On his return to England after that war, Lord Roberts becameCommander-in-Chief of the British Army.
When the Boy Scout movement began, he took the greatest interest in it, because he was always fond, of boys and knew how useful to the Country they might be if only they were trained to it.
So he came on the Council of the Scouts' Headquarters, and he reviewed the Scouts at a big Empire Day parade in Hyde Park.
When I went to stay with him, he talked of little else but the Scouts; and the Scouts at Ascot, who were raised and organised by his daughter, Lady Aileen Roberts, miss their great friend.
The Ascot Scouts formed part of the Guard of Honour which escorted his body through that place on its way to burial in London. At St. Paul's Cathedral I was glad to see also a Guard of Honour of Scouts, who had come to pay their last respects to our national hero.
Lord Roberts was a splendid example for any boy to follow, because he rose from small beginnings to the highest position in the Army and, what is more, to the highest position in the admiration and affection of all his fellow-subjects of the King, whether they were white or coloured. And he did it all by his own merit, though he was not extraordinarily brilliant or clever as a lad.
How did he manage it?
I think it was largely because he was a true Scout in every sense of the word. The things which brought him success were:
His pluck in facing every kind of difficulty or danger with cheery hopefulness.
His eagerness to work hard and to do his duty regardless of whether it was what he liked or wanted to do. His honesty and straightforwardness, which made everybody trust and believe in him.
His humility, by which he put himself on equal terms with everybody; he had no kind of "swank" or pride, in spite of his brilliant successes.
His kind-heartedness and thoughtfulness for others, especially those at the bottom of the ladder. And that was one of the secrets of his success—those working under his orders worked like slaves for him because they loved him.
His simple faith in God, which led him true and straight through every difficulty.
Well, when you come to look into it, you will see that by doing these things in his daily life Lord Roberts was exactly carrying out the Scout Law. It is what you as a Scout are already aiming to do.
So, now that you have his great example before you, all you have to do is to go ahead and stick to it, with all the greater determination that you will make yourself, like Lord Roberts, a cheery, brave fellow and a valuable man for your Country.
Law 9. A SCOUT IS THRIFTY.
It is expected that a Scout will save every penny he can, and put it in the bank, so that he may have money to keep himself when out of work, and thus not make himself a burden to others; or that he may have money to give away to others when they need it.