Then it was said that Blake's pennant was the whip that had driven outsiders from off the seas.
* * * * *
Whenever a British submarine goes down there is a tale of gallantry to relieve the sorrow of it.
"C 11," on her way to join the Fleet display in the Thames, was run down by a steamer which came suddenly upon her in the night.
A submarine, as you know, is a long, tube-like boat, shaped like a hollow cigar, with one trap-door on the top leading to a small look-out tower. She runs along with this tower above water until she gets near to an enemy's ship; then the trapdoor is closed, and she sinks herself down below water, and runs under the ship and fires a torpedo into her in passing.
I was on board a submarine not long ago, and when I was down in her dark, narrow inside, surrounded with a tangle of pipes and engines of every kind, I could quite picture to myself what the inside of the whale's belly must have looked like to Jonah. Also I could picture the hopeless feeling of dismay which must come over a crew of thirteen men boxed up in this small vessel if an accident occurred to her.
* * * * *
The crew of "C 11" were all below, asleep, when the crash came; and the boat rolled sideways, and then sank down under water almost immediately. On the turret were Sub.-Lieut. Watkins and Able-Seaman Stripes, who were navigating the vessel.
Lieut. Brodie, the commander, was below at the time; but at the collision he at once realised the danger, and first shook up some of the sleeping men, and then sprang up the hatchway to see what was wrong. Few were able to follow him before the vessel sank heavily down.
The next minute the survivors found themselves in the water swimming for their lives.
Sub.-Lieut. Watkins, being fully clothed and in his big sea-boots, had great difficulty in keeping afloat, and was in immediate danger of drowning, when Lieut. Brodie came to his assistance and held him up until, fortunately, their plight was seen from neighbouring vessels, and they were picked up just in time—both being completely exhausted. But Lieut. Brodie never let go of his comrade in order to get a better chance of saving himself. He had the true spirit of a Scout in him in Being Prepared to give up his own life in the attempt to save another.
If ever you find yourself in a position of difficulty or danger, keep your head, think what is your duty, and do it: remember how it was done in the case of "C 11." When sudden death and darkness were all around, the officer kept cool and full of courage.
* * * * *
A terrific gale sprang up one winter in the Orkney Islands, away to the north of Scotland. Three fishing smacks were out in it, and ran for shelter into a narrow channel between two of the islands.
Two of the smacks rode out the weather safely, but the third got carried on to a small rocky islet and was wrecked, though her crew managed to get ashore on to the rocks.
Then it was that five brave fishermen on the island of Pharay, seeing their plight, put off in a rough, home-made boat to try to rescue them; but the wind and sea were so high, and a snowstorm was driving against them to such an extent, that they could not get along, and were beaten back, after two toughly fought attempts.
But they would not be defeated, and at last, by sheer pluck and determination, these hardy fellows got their boat across the channel at the third attempt, and dragged the shipwrecked men one by one through the water into their boat; and eventually, after going through the greatest danger of being swamped, they got them all safely ashore on Pharay.
This was a true example of Scouts Being Prepared to risk their lives to save fellow creatures.
These five heroes arrived at Balmoral while I was there, as the guest of King Edward, by whom they were received. He had the story of their heroism read over, and he then congratulated them on their bravery, and himself hung the medal for saving life at sea on the breast of each and shook hands with him. That was his official reward to them, but privately also he gave each man a personal friendly reminder in the shape of a good pipe and some tobacco, which he chose himself for them.
* * * * *
The lads of the training shipMercurywere manning one of the boats to go ashore. There was a heavy wind blowing—it was still dark—when one of the boys, named Newitt, fell into the water and was swept away by the tide.
Two of his messmates at once dived in to his rescue. One of these, Yateman, was quickly picked up by the ship's boat in mistake for the drowning lad. But the other boy, Driver, a Patrol Leader belonging to the 8th Southampton (Mercury) Troop, succeeded in getting hold of Newitt and swam towards the pier with him.
But Driver was hampered with the suit of oilskins which he was wearing, and in battling with tide and wind, he himself was nearly drowned, although he was a good swimmer.
A boat which put out from the pier got to him just in time to save him, and he was pulled on board in an unconscious condition, from which he did not recover for nearly two hours. The poor fellow, Newitt, had slipped from his grasp and was drowned.
Still, Driver had done all that he possibly could. He had not thought of the danger to himself, but on the first alarm had, with the true spirit of the Scout, at once sprung to the assistance of his comrade in distress, and for this he was awarded the Bronze Cross, the Scouts' highest award for gallantry.
* * * * *
I began my Scouting first of all as a Sea Scout, before I ever went into the Army and before I ever saw the backwoods in Canada or India. And I am very glad that I did, for as a Sea Scout, I learnt how to swim, and I should have cut a poor figure as a soldier, or as a hunter, or as a Scout, if I had not been able to do that.
But besides swimming, there are so many things that one learns while a Sea Scout which come in useful afterwards, whatever line of life you may take up.
For instance, I learnt how to tie knots, and unless a fellow can do that he is a duffer; I learnt how to handle and manage a boat by myself, how to right her when upset, and how to get in and out of her when bathing.
I learnt how to steer and manage a large sailing boat, taking my watch alone at night; how to read the stars and charts; and how to take the responsibility for navigating and not running her on to the rocks.
As a Sea Scout you get mighty hungry, so in order to feed yourself when on the water you have to be able to catch fish and to clean them, and to cook them for yourself. All this means that you have to be what a sailor is generally known as, a "handyman."
Then the life is so jolly, free, and breezy; there is lots of hard work at times, and difficulties and dangers to overcome, but also lots of enjoyable sunny cruising into strange places with good comrades around you.
Fellows boxed up in a ship together naturally become the best of friends and comrades if they are naturally good chaps with good tempers; if they are not—well—then I would rather not be in that ship, thank you!
Sailors are always manly fellows, and know how to give and take, and they manage to keep their tempers when small things go wrong.
* * * * *
Two of our greatest generals to-day began their careers as sailors.
Field-Marshal Sir Evelyn Wood won his Victoria Cross as a midshipman in the Royal Navy while serving in the Crimea. Field-Marshal Viscount French, late Commander-in-Chief of our Forces in France and Flanders, was a sailor before he joined the Army, and so was Sir Hamilton Goold-Adams, who commanded the Town Guard so well in Mafeking.
I have always found that a Boy Scout who has been a Sea Scout as well as a Backwoods Scout makes much the best all-round Scout in the end. So I can well advise Scouts to have a taste of both.
A patrol or troop can easily take up Sea Scouting for one season if they like, just as a change. But, of course, it means that each one of them must learn swimming first, if he is not already a swimmer, and must know his knots really well, for actual use, and not merely for passing test examinations.
It is well worth the trouble, for Sea Scouting, with its adventures and its games, is full of enjoyment and fun.
* * * * *
When I was last in Canada I had to do a lot of my travelling by canoe, because the forests there are almost impassable with their thick undergrowth and boggy soil.
There are lakes and streams everywhere, so it is comparatively easy to go by water. But there are plenty of adventures to be met with by the way, in the shape of snags and rocks and rapids, and out on the lakes gales spring up, with a heavy sea, in a very short time. So a fellow has to know how to manage a boat and how to face risks if he is going to get on at all, and it is just as well that he should be able to swim, as otherwise he is not likely to arrive at the end of his trip in the way he had intended!
[Illustration: A SEA SCOUT] Well, Jim and Ben and I were paddling in our birch bark canoe across a good-sized lake where there were a lot of small islands, when suddenly we scrunched on to a submerged rock, which brought us to a full stop and bulged in the bottom of our vessel, so that the water began to run in and flood the floor.
So the canoe was quickly turned, and away we paddled as hard as we could for the nearest island, and just reached it in time to scramble ashore before our boat began to sink.
We quickly pulled her up on the rocks, got our baggage out, and rolled her over, so that the water could run out and we could get at the hole to repair it. This was done in quite a neat way.
Ben and I scraped away with our knives some of the "gum" or natural pitch with which the seams of the canoe were caulked. Jim meantime had made a little fire with driftwood. Then Ben took a bit of rag, which he had used as a bandage for a wounded hand, and stretched it over the hole in the boat, and fixed it there with little bits of "gum," which he melted down with a red-hot stick taken from the fire.
In this way he made a watertight patch over the leak in a very few minutes, and we soon had the canoe afloat again. We loaded her up, and within ten minutes of the disaster we were on our way again as happily as ever, but we kept a sharper look-out than we had done before for snags and rocks just below the surface of the water.
* * * * *
Thanks to so large a number of Scouts having taken up the training as Sea Scouts we were able to supply about 1400 useful and efficient fellows to act as Coastguards directly the war broke out. This enabled a large number of the regular Coastguards to be sent to man the Fleet.
Since then, the Admiralty have been so satisfied with the good work done by the Sea Scouts, who have been guarding our coasts from the extreme north of Scotland down to the Land's End in Cornwall, that they have asked for more of them, and we now have about 2000 employed on this duty and as signallers on board mine-sweepers, coaling and supply ships.
The Sea Scouts have won for themselves a very good name by BeingPrepared before war broke out.
Any fellow who means to be a backwoodsman, whether it is for pleasure or for work, should first of all get some practice at it at home.
For eight years of my life I hardly ever slept in a house and I thoroughly enjoyed it. But to enjoy it you must know how to make yourself comfortable in camp.
* * * * *
The first thing to consider is what kind of substitute for a house you are going to have to protect you from bad weather. This depends a good deal on what kind of country you are in. In a forest you can, of course, get plenty of timber out of which to build huts, but it is not much use being able to build a log-hut and then to find yourself in the open desert of the Sahara.
The best all-round kind of camp-house is, of course, a tent. I had what is called a "Cabul" tent—a small square erection, seven feet long by seven feet wide, which can be opened or closed at either end, and has a double roof. I lived in this through the winter in Afghanistan, through snow and blizzard, in the greatest comfort. At one end I built a brick fireplace and chimney; and I built a low wall, two feet high, round the outside; this kept out all draughts and prevented snow from melting into the tent. And I lived there as cosily and comfortably as in a house.
In that same tent I afterwards lived in the blazing heat of the plains of India. Instead of the fireplace at the end to keep it hot, I had a great mat of Khuskhu's fibre stretched on a frame and kept always wet to keep it cool; the hot wind blowing through this was at once cooled, and kept the tent delightfully cold and fresh inside, and the double roof prevented the sun from baking it. And I had a punkah, or swinging fan, slung from the ridge-pole, and worked by a native from outside.
It was a sturdy little tent, too, and no gale could ever manage to blow it down. So you see it did equally well for every kind of climate and weather.
Another form of tent which I used in Mafeking and South Africa, and still use for sleeping out in, in England, is one which you would hardly call a tent. It is really a slungcot, with a movable canvas roof to it. It is called the "Ashanti Hammock."
[Illustration: A BIVOUAC SHELTER.]
It packs up quite small, and is put up in a few minutes. Requires no pegs. Keeps you off the wet ground. And when the gale comes and all the tents in camp blow down, you lie there swinging gently in the breeze, the envy of all the rest. It also forms an excellent stretcher if you are ill and have to be carried; and if you die it also makes a very satisfactory coffin, being laced over you as you lie in it. Very complete, isn't it?
[Illustration: THE ASHANTI HAMMOCK.]
There are tents of every sort and kind to be got, from a single-man tent up to a hospital tent for thirty beds. And there are also many kinds of camps there is a "standing" camp, where you remain in the same spot for weeks at a time, or a "tramping" camp, where you move on every day to a new place, and "boating" camp, where also you move but can carry your tent in your boat. But it is rather necessary to know which kind of camp you are making before you can tell which kind of tent you need.
As I have said inScouting for Boys: "For a standing camp 'bell' tents are useful, or huts can be made. Bell tents can be hired in almost any town for a few shillings per week, or you can buy a second-hand one in good condition for about 2 Pounds.
"You could probably let it out on hire to other patrols when not using it yourself, and so get back your money on it. A bell tent, just holds a patrol nicely.
"Scouts' 'patrol' tents also do very well for camp, but you need a second set of staves or poles for rigging them if you want to leave the camp standing while you are out scouting.
"You can make your own tents during the winter months—and this, perhaps; is the best way of all, as it comes cheapest in the end. And if, while you are about it, you make one or two extra ones, you may be able to sell them at a good profit."
A "lean-to" tent is used by many backwoodsmen. It can be made with the Scouts' patrol tent on the same principle as the lean-to shelter described inScouting for Boys.
If pitched with its back to the wind, with a good fire in front, it can be made a most luxurious bedroom on cold night. The roof catches all the warmth and glow of the fire, and you lie there warm in your blankets, yet breathing the fresh air of the forest or veldt and gazing at the stars. There is nothing better on earth.
* * * * *
We will begin with the simplest and cheapest. Here is a one-man "tramp" tent, which is used by a certain class of gipsy in Scotland.
[Illustration: CONSTRUCTION OF TRAMP-TENT.] You want six hazel sticks, all exactly alike, about 3 ft. 6 in. long, just sufficiently pliant to bend over near the top, but not so thin as to be wobbly.
Each should be sharpened at the butt, and marked with a nick ten inches from the point to show how far to drive it into the ground. The points should be slightly charred in the fire to harden them.
Then you want a sheet of light canvas, or waterproofed linen, to form your tent, six feet square, with eyelets or loops along the sides.
[Illustration: ONE-MAN TRAMP-TENT COMPLETE.]
Plant your sticks firmly in the ground, in two rows, two feet apart from each other. Bend the tops inwards to form an archway. Over these arches spread your canvas to form a kind of tunnel tent, and peg down the loops to the ground.
* * * * *
This is, perhaps, an equally simple tent. The roof, or "fly," can be 6 ft. by 6 ft. Two poles, 3 ft. 6 in., should be planted firmly-at least six inches in the ground.
A stout ridge-rope should be stretched tightly between them, and tied at the top of each, and then securely fixed to a tent peg well driven into the ground in front of each end of the tent.
[Illustration: "BIVOUAC" TENT.]
The edges of the "fly" all round should have large metal eyelets, by which the sides of the tent can be pegged to the ground, and flaps can be laced on at the ends to give protection against wind and rain, etc.
Instead of using pegs at the sides, it is equally good to lace the edge along a stout log, or to a rope stretched tight, or a pole, and well anchored in the ground.
Then you have the "patrol" tent of canvas, as described inScouting for Boys, which is carried in pieces, which lace together, and, with the staves of the patrol as supports, form the tent for six or eight boys. These are very easy to make in a couple of evenings.
* * * * *
The "Cabul" tent, mentioned previously, was the kind that we used in the war in Afghanistan.
Cabul is the chief town of that country.
These tents are equally comfortable in snow and rain, or in the baking heat of the plains of India.
[Illustration: CABUL TENT COMPLETE] It has an extra roof to keep out the sun or heavy rain. A tent like this, with two roofs, is called a "double-fly" tent. It is, of course, heavier and more expensive than a "single-fly," but it is also more comfortable.
* * * * *
The horizontal "ridge-pole," 5 ft. 9 in. long, has an iron eyelet at each end The outer fly rests on this. The loops of the inner fly also hang from it to hold up the inner roof.
[Illustration: INNER "FLY" OF "CABUL" TENT]
[Illustration: OUTER "FLY" OF "CABUL" TENT]
[Illustration: CABUL TENT-POLES.]
The upright poles are six feet high; each of these is fitted with an iron cap and spike at the top to fit the eyelets of the ridge-pole. Each is also fitted with a circular wooden disc at one foot from the top; this supports the inner fly, the upper part of each pole having been passed through the hole at either end of the inner fly-roof.
* * * * *
Before starting to make your tent, you should, in the first place, have a good look at ready-made tents, and see exactly how they are made-especially at the edges.
[Illustration: TREES INSTEAD OF TENT POLES.]
You should always make a model of the tent you propose to construct, first with paper, to scale, so as to get the proper dimensions, and then with linen, with string and poles complete, to see how to cut it out in the right sizes. Afterwards, you can proceed to make the real, article.
This, again, is best done by cutting it out in newspapers pasted together and spread out on the floor. These paper cuttings then serve as "patterns," on which you can cut your canvas without wasting any of it.
* * * * *
The kind of stuff to use for tent making depends a good deal on how much you can afford for material, and what work you want the tent for.
Thus, if you want a very light tent for carrying on your back or bicycle, and have plenty of money, a silk tent at 4s. a yard is very nice; but probably you would like one of cheaper material, and fairly light and strong.
Lawn, made of Egyptian cotton, calico sheeting, or brown calico makes a very satisfactory tent at an outlay of 10s. or so for the whole thing complete.
* * * * *
After having purchased your stuff, and cut it out according to the paper pattern, pin it, or tack it, all together, and see how it fits.
Then stitch the seams together, using cotton, not thick thread.
[Illustration: STEEP SIDES TOO WIDE.]
Seams should be double-stitched-that is, the edges of the two pieces of canvas should overlap, and each be stitched to the other piece. At all points where a strain is likely to come on the canvas-namely, at the corners and at places where eyelets for ropes have to come, it is best to have a strengthening patch of canvas sewn over the other canvas.
Then wide, stout tape should be sewn along the edge of the canvas wherever there is to be any strain on it, such as eyelet holes for ropes, or hooks and eyes, or strings for closing the ends of the tent, etc.
Often in woods you can find two trees standing, say, eight feet apart. If you have a six-foot tent, you can use these for tent poles by tying ("lashing" is the word used by sailors and Scouts) each end of the ridge of the tent to a tree.
This can be more easily done if your ridge is strengthened with a tape sewn inside it, and made into a loop at each end. It is always as well to make these loops on your tents, as they come in useful in other ways.
A strip of canvas is often stitched on to the foot of the tent, as shown in the picture, either to hold it down with pegs or stones, or to be turned inwards underneath your ground sheet to prevent draughts coming in under the wall.
A tent should not be made wider than its height, because the roof will not be steep enough to run the rain off quickly, and so will let it through more easily.
* * * * *
The poles should not be made of any weak wood liable to split or break, but of tough elm, hickory, ash, or bamboo.
For small tents of about five feet high they need be only one to one-and-a-half inches thick.
For heavy tents of over ten feet long and over six feet high, they have to be at least two inches thick. Bamboos are generally tougher than wood, so need not be quite so stout.
* * * * *
Tent pegs may be easily made of wood, but should be of a tough kind that does not split easily. They are generally made in the shape shown below, about ten inches long.
You can also get them of iron, but these, though they do not break, do not hold quite so well in the ground, and are heavy to carry. Aluminium ones are lighter, expensive, and inclined to bend.
Then you can use stones or logs instead of pegs, and what I like best of all is half a dozen canvas bags filled with earth or stones and buried in the ground as anchors. These can be used equally well in sandy, muddy, or stony ground, where ordinary pegs would never hold.
These bags are easily made during your winter evenings, and can be used for carrying your kit from camp to camp. They also make useful buckets and washing basins. They should be made of stout duck or canvas.
The top edge of this canvas should be folded over and stitched in order to give strength.
The handles are made of half-inch rope, passed through brass eyelets, let into the canvas below the stitching? the ends of the rope being knotted inside.
In cutting out you must allow an extra inch for turning in at the edges and joining to the other pieces.
Supposing that you have not the time or means for getting tents and that you are going into camp where there are plenty of trees, and you have got the right to use them, then some of the following tips may be of use to you.
[Illustration: CORRECT TENT PEGS.][Illustration: A HANDY BAG.]
A bivouac shelter, as described inScouting for Boys, is the simplest and best form of hut, and is easily made in an hour. Two upright stakes are driven firmly into the ground, with a ridge pole placed in position along the tops. Against this a number of poles should be made to lean from the windward aide, with cross-bars to support the branches, reeds, sods, or twigs, or whatever is to form your roofing material.
For a single man this shelter can be made quite small,i.e., about 3 ft. high in front, and 3 ft. wide and 6 ft. long.
* * * * *
You build your fire about 4 ft. in front of this, and lie in it alongside your fire.
If the "shack" is for more than one man, you build it 5 ft. or 6 ft. high in front, and 5 ft. deep, so that several fellows can lie alongside each other, feet to the fire.
When you start to thatch your framework, begin at the bottom and lay your roofing material on in layers, one above the other in the way that slates are put on a roof. In this way you may make it watertight.
* * * * *
For thatching you can use thick spruce branches, or grass, reeds, sods, slabs of wood or bark (called "shingles"), or small twigs of heather closely woven in.
It is generally advisable to lay a few branches and stout poles over the thatch when finished in order to keep it on if a gale springs up.
[Illustration: FRAMEWORK.]
If you want to build a complete hut, you can make a lean-to from each side on the same ridge-pole; but the single lean-to, with its fire in front of it, is quite good enough for most people.
Another way to build a shelter hut is to lean a ridge-pole or backbone from the ground into the fork of a small tree about 5 ft. above the ground, the butt of the pole being about 4 ft. to windward of the tree. Then put up a few side poles leaning against this, and roof over in the same way as for a lean-to. Build your fire just in front of this, and you will have a very safe and cosy little house.
[Illustration: THATCHING.]
In country where there are no trees to make poles with, like parts of South Africa, where there is only a lot of small thorn bush and long grass, you can make "scherms," or loose thorn bushes piled in a heap and made into a small horse-shoe, arched over, back to wind, and covered or roughly thatched with grass.
These, with a fire in front, make very good shelter against cold wind or against sun, and, if covered with a canvas waggon-sail or tarpaulin, make a good enough protection against rain and against very hot sun. A "scherm" can be made with heather or gorse—only look out for its catching fire!
[Illustration: A SHELTER HUT.]
Remember that to make a tent or hut cool in hot sun put on more roof—put blankets over the top of your tent, and bank up the sides near the ground. But if you want to make your tent or hut warm, take care to thicken the walls at the foot to prevent draughts coming in along the floor.
Also never forget that your floor is on raised ground, not in a hollow that will become a pool in wet weather.
* * * * *
Having made your tent or hut, you will find it a good comfort in a standing camp to have a table.
This you can well make in winter evenings before the camping season, and while you are at it making one for yourself; you may just as well make two or three more to sell to other people, and so add money to your camping fund.
The table should be separate from its legs, so that it can be packed easily in the cart.
If stakes can be got at camp, you would drive four of these into the ground with a "maul" (big mallet), making them exactly the same height, and lay your table top on these.
To make your table top, bits of board or old packing cases can be planed smooth, and trimmed, and screwed together by cross-battens underneath to form a tabletop of the size required; 34 in. by 40 in. is a useful and portable size.
[Illustration: TABLE WHEN FINISHED.]
A pair of folding trestle legs can then be made for the table. These are two frames, one just narrow enough to go inside the other, but both of the same length.
A CAMP STOOL can be made in much the same way, with a strip of canvas or carpet or several strings of webbing nailed across, from the top of one trestle to the other, the trestles, of course, being quite small.
[Illustration: UNDER SIDE OF TABLE TOP.]
CANDLESTICKS, Forks, Tongs, and other small articles of camp furniture are shown inScouting for Boys, and can easily be made in the winter evenings. If neatly done they also command a good sale at bazaars.
CAMP BEDS are also described inScouting for Boys, and straw mats for making these may very well be woven in winter evenings, and, with plenty of time for making them, can be really well made. When finished, they can be rolled up and packed away until required for camp.
The fellow who owns one of these in camp can enjoy life under canvas about four times as much as the fellow who tries to make himself comfortable on a hard, stony bit of ground. I think you never find out how full of corners you are till you try sleeping on a hard bit of ground.
Of course? every Scout knows that the worst corner in him is his hip-bone, and if you have got to sleep on hard ground the secret of comfort is to scoop out a little hole, about the size of a tea-cup, where your hip-bone will rest. It makes all the difference to your comfort at night.
Your night's rest is an important thing a fellow who does not get a good sleep at night soon knocks up, and cannot get through a day's work like the one who sleeps in comfort.
[Illustration: TRESTLE LEGS.]
So my advice is, make a good thick straw-mattress for yourself during the winter ready for camp.
Another good way of giving yourself a comfortable bed is to make a big bag of canvas or stout linen; 6 ft. long and 3 ft. wide.
This will do to roll up your kit in for travelling; and when you are in camp you can stuff it with straw, or leaves, or bracken, etc., and use it as a nice soft mattress.
A PILLOW is also a useful thing for giving you comfort in camp. For this you only want a strong pillow-case (which also you can make for yourself in the winter). This will serve as your clothes-bag by day and your pillow by night, your clothes, if neatly rolled and packed in it, serving as the stuffing.
I have often used my boots as a pillow, rolled up in a coat so that they don't slip apart, and for a long time I used a Zulu pillow, which is a little wooden stand on which you rest your neck; it sounds uncomfortable, but it is not so—when you're used to it!
A Scout has to Be Prepared to turn out at any moment in the night. He ought, therefore, to have his important clothes laid handy, so that he can get into them at once in the dark.
[Illustration: A ZULU PILLOW.]
On service, of course, a Scout sleeps with shoes on, so that he can turn out at any moment.
I remember on one occasion some of my men gave up obeying this rule, and thought it more comfortable to take their boots off.
So one night I had the alarm given that the enemy were near, and ordered the men to double out at once to a spot a short distance outside the camp.
The ground was covered with prickly grass and camel-thorn. How those fellows hopped and skipped to get to the place. But they took care not to go to bed barefooted again.
* * * * *
In places where you can get the use of a wood for your camp, it saves the cost of a tent if you can make yourself a hut.
The important point in making a hut is to thatch it so closely and well with heather, straw, or twigs of fir, etc., that it is watertight.
The double lean-to, already described, makes the simplest form of hut—and if you like to make it more roomy, you can dig out the floor a couple of feet. But this is always a messy proceeding, and unhealthy, as upturned earth is very liable to give fever.
In addition to the articles of camp equipment which are mentioned inScouting for Boysas being easily made by the Scout himself, there are several others which can be made during the long winter evenings, and these will be of great use to you when you go into camp in the summer, or they can be sold to other fellows wanting such things.
The following is taken, from Mr. H. Kephart'sBook of Camping:
* * * * *
"Get a cow's horn from a friendly butcher, a little over a foot long. Measure with a stick how far up it is hollow. Then, saw off the tip just below where it becomes solid, except a strip of the solid part, which should be left attached to the hollow part, about an inch wide and five inches long, quarter of an inch thick; this strip will form the handle of the cup."
[Illustration: A HORN DRINKING CUP]
* * * * *
Of course a backwoodsman has to be pretty useful with his axe; and to become a good axeman a fellow must know, firstly, how the thing ought to be done, and, secondly, he must then have lots of practice in doing it before he can be considered any good.
Bad workmen complain of their tools, but before starting to work be sure that your tool is a good one.
Your axe should be a "felling" axe, of which the head will weigh nearly three pounds. See that the handle or "helve" is perfectly straight and true in line with the head and the edge. To do this look along the helve with the edge of the head turned upwards. If the edge is not true to the bevel, your cuts will go all astray.
Then see that your axe is sharp—really sharp, not merely with a good edge on it. A slightly blunt axe is no more good for cutting down a tree than a very blunt knife is for cutting a pencil. You should know how to sharpen it on a grindstone, learn this now, while you are in civilisation, where grindstones can be found and there are men to show you.
When out in camp in India, for "pig sticking" (that is hunting wild boar with spears) we found how very necessary it was to keep our spears as sharp as a razor, and every time we killed a boar we would sharpen up our spear-heads again ready for the next fight.
We could not carry grindstones about with us, but we carried a small fine file, with which we were able to touch up the edge; and that is what many an old backwoodsman does for his axe, he carries a small file with him.
There is a saying with these men that "you may lend your last dollar to a friend, but never lend him your axe—unless you know that he is a good axeman and will not blunt it."
The tenderfoot will go banging about with an axe, chopping at roots and branches on the ground, and blunting the axe at every stroke on earth and stones; and when his arms tire, if he has not meanwhile chopped his own foot, he will throw the axe down, leaving it lying all anyhow on the ground, probably where it will catch and cut the toe of someone moving about after dark.
When you want to leave your axe, strike straight down with it into a tree stump, and leave it sticking there till required again,
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In using an axe, the tenderfoot generally tries to cover his bad aim by the extra strength of his blows. If an old hand is looking on he is smiling to himself and thinking how blown and what a backache he got himself the first time that he did it.
Don't try to put force into the blow; merely be careful about aiming it so that it falls exactly where you want it, the swing and weight of the axe itself do the rest.
A good axeman uses his axe equally well left-handed or right. It is all a matter of practice, and most valuable.
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The way to cut down a tree is to cut first a big chunk out of the side to which you want the tree to fall, and then to cut into the opposite side to fell it.
Begin your Notch 1, or the "kerf," as it is called, by chopping two marks, the upper one, A, at a distance above the other, B, equal to half the thickness of the tree.
[Illustration: THE KERF.]
Then cut alternately, first a horizontal cut at B, then a sideways, downward cut at A, and jerk out the chunk between the two; go on doing this till you get to the centre of the tree. The reason for making A and B so far apart is that if you begin with too narrow a kerf your axe gets wedged in the cut more easily.
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When you have cut your kerf half through the tree, you then fell the tree by cutting in on the opposite side, only about three inches above the level of B,
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Before starting to fell your tree, first clear away all small branches and bushes which might interfere with the swing of your axe, and therefore spoil your aim.
Also clear away any brambles or undergrowth that might trip you at the critical moment.
Cut out chunks when you are at it, not a lot of little chips, which are signs to anyone coming there later that a tenderfoot has been at work. It is all a matter of aiming your stroke well.
Aim your kerf so that the tree will fall clear of other trees, and not get hung up in their branches.
[Illustration: THE TREE READY TO FALL]
Then, when your tree falls, look out for the butt. This often jumps back from the stump; never stand directly behind it; many a tenderfoot has been killed that way. When the stem cracks and the tree begins to topple over, move forward in the direction of the fall, and, at the same time outwards, away from the butt.
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As a backwoodsman you must, of course, be able to cook your own food—you can't lug your mother about with you to do it!
But you cannot cook food straight off without ever having learnt how; and so I advise every Scout to set to work and learn this during the winter months, before the camping season comes on.
You can do a good deal by helping in the kitchen, and seeing how the food is got ready. Also get a baker to show you how to mix dough and to bake bread.
But it is no use merely to beshownhow it should be done; the thing is to do it yourself. You will make a few mistakes at first. Your dough will come out like custard, and your porridge will be burnt, and milk smoked, but after one or two trials you will soon find yourself able to cook quite well.
The first thing that is necessary for cooking, even if it is only to boil a billy of tea, is to have a fire, and tenderfoot makes a pretty hash of lighting a fire until he knows how.
[Illustration: FIRE READY FOR LIGHTING.]
Begin inasmall way by putting first some dry "kindling" or small splinters and shavings, dry grass, or alittlepaper, anything that will easily take fire, and over that stack a lot of small dry sticks, standing on end and leaning together, or leaning against a log on thewindwardside of it.
Remember, drysticksare very different fromstickswhen it comes to lighting a fire.
Dry sticks are seldom found on the ground, they are generally best got from a tree. Find a tree with a dead branch or two, break these off, and you will have dry sticks. For "kindling," a number of sticks partly split or splintered with your knife are useful.
Do you know what "punk" is?
Well, "punk," or "tinder," is whatagood many backwoodsmen carry about with them for lighting their fires.
It can be a small bit of cotton waste soaked in petrol or spirits, or very dry, baked fungus, or bark fibre, or anything that will catch fire from the slightest spark.
Then, if you have no matches, you can strike a spark with a flint and steel (the back of your knife on a stone will do it), and so set light to your punk.
Or you can do it with a magnifying glass if there is a good sun shining, by making the sunlight pass through the glass on to a small amount of punk, and in a few seconds it will set it smouldering; and you must then gently blow it up into a glow, and finally into a flame, with which you can light the "kindling."
Indians and savages, who have neither matches nor burning-glasses, get fire by rubbing wood together.
The easiest way is by putting a slat of dry wood on the ground and boring a hole through it with a stick of dry wood, twirling the stick by means of a bow string.
The friction of the two woods causes the kind of sawdust which comes from the hole to get red-hot, and if a little punk is then placed on it and blown into, it brings a flame.
So soon as you have got your small kindling fire alight, add bigger dry sticks, upright and leaning together, until you can get a really strong fire going, when logs can be added.
But for a cooking fire, use plenty of sticks at first, as they make the hot ashes and embers which are most necessary for cooking.
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If you make your own sleeping bag out of canvas or sacking, remember two points: first, to have its flaps about a yard longer than yourself, so that you can get well into it in case of rain, and secondly: that to keep warm and dry you want more thickness underneath than above you.
[Illustration: A COMFORTABLE SLEEPING BAG.]
The best way is to have a double sheet under you, or, in other words, make your sleeping bag a double one; you can then fill the lower part with straw, and sleep yourself in the upper compartment.
The object of having long flaps is seen in the illustration. The lower one can be rolled with your spare clothes inside it to form your pillow, while the upper one can be supported by a crossbar to form a little roof over your head. In a sleeping bag of this kind, if waterproof, you can sleep out without a tent at all.
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A very simple and comfortable form of camp bed-and one which you can easily rig up and use in your home, or at an inn, if a bedstead is not available-is this: Make a "hasty stretcher" with two staves and a sack, and lay the ends of the staves on a couple of logs, stones, or boxes.
[Illustration: READY FOR USE.]
Keep the staves apart by crossbars, and you have a most comfortable bed. But don't forget to put plenty of blankets, and some thick paper, if you are short of blankets underneath you.
This bed is the best possible one to use when you have to camp on damp ground.
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In camp you can generally tell a tenderfoot from an old scout from the way in which he sits down.
[Illustration: THE WRONG WAY.]
A tenderfoot sits right down on the ground, but the old hand, knowing that this is very likely to give you chill and bring on fever, rheumatism, or other ailments, either squats on his heel, or on both heels—which comes all the more easy if you put a stone under each heel as a support, or if you have your back against a tree.
[Illustration: THE RIGHT WAY.]
When an old scout sits on the ground, he always takes care either to sit on his hat, or on a bundle of dry heather, or something that will keep him off the actual ground.
[Illustration: HOW AN OLD HAND SITS DOWN.]
Two ex-Boy Scouts, now officers in the Army, sent me a contribution to our funds lately, as a thanks offering for all the campaigning dodges which they had learnt as Scouts and which had been most helpful to them on active service.
So practise all you can of these tips which I have given: you never know when they may not come in useful to you.
The native boys of the Zulu and Swazi tribes learn to be Scouts before they are allowed to be considered men, and they do it in this way:
When a boy is about fifteen or sixteen, he is taken by the men of his village, stripped of all clothes, and painted white from head to foot, and he is given a shield and one assegai or small spear, and he is turned out of the village and told that he will be killed if anyone catches him while he is still painted white.
So the boy has to go off into the jungle and mountains and hide himself from other men until the white paint wears off, and this generally takes about a month; so that all this time he has to look after himself and stalk game with his one assegai, and kill it and cut it up; he has to light his fire by means of rubbing sticks together in order to cook his meat; he has to make the skin of the animal into a covering for himself; and he has to know what kinds of wild roots, berries, and leaves are good for food as vegetables.
If he is not able to do these things he dies of starvation, or is killed by wild animals.
If he succeeds in keeping himself alive, and is able to find his way back to his village, he returns when the white paint has worn off, and is then received with great rejoicings by his friends and relatives, and is allowed to become a soldier of the tribe, since he has shown that he is able to look after himself.
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General Dodge, of the American Army, describes how he once had to pursue a party of Red Indians who had been murdering some people.
The murderers had nearly a week's start, and had gone away on horseback. Rut General Dodge got a splendid tracking-scout named Espinosa to help him. The Indians were all riding unshod horses except one, and after Espinosa had been tracking them for many miles he suddenly got off his horse and pulled four horseshoes out of a hidden crevice in the rocks. The Indian had evidently pulled them off so that they should not leave a track.
For six days they pursued the band, and for a great part of the time there was no sign visible to an ordinary eye, and after going for 150 miles they eventually overtook and captured the whole party. But it was all entirely due to Espinosa's good tracking.
On another occasion some American troops were following up a number of Indians, who had been raiding and murdering whites, and they had some other Red Indian scouts to assist them in tracking.
In order to make a successful attack, they marched by night, and the trackers found the way in the darkness by feeling the tracks of the enemy with their hands, and they went at a fairly good pace for many miles, merely touching the track with their fingers; but suddenly they halted and reported that the track they had been following had been crossed by a fresh track, and on the commanding officer going up, he found the Indians still holding the track with their hands, so that there should be no mistake.
A light was brought, and it was found that the new track was that of a bear which had walked across the trail of the enemy! So the march continued without further incident, and the enemy were surprised, and caught in the early hours of the morning.
I myself led a column through an intricate part of the Matopo Mountains in Rhodesia by night to attack the enemy's stronghold, which I had reconnoitred the previous day. I found the way by feeling my own tracks, sometimes with my hands and sometimes through the soles of my shoes, which had worn very thin; and I never had any difficulty in finding the line.
Tracking, or following up tracks, is called by different names in different countries. Thus, in South Africa you would talk only of "spooring," that is, following up the "spoor"; in India it would be following the "pugs," or "pugging"; in America it is "trailing."
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In India I have seen a certain tribe of gipsies who eat jackals. Now, a jackal is one of the most suspicious animals that lives, and is very difficult to catch in a trap, but these gipsies catch them by calling them in this way: Several men with dogs hide themselves in the grass and bushes round a small field. In the middle of this open place one gipsy imitates the call of the jackals calling to each other; he gets louder and louder till they seem to come together; then they begin to growl and finally tackle each other with violent snapping, snarling, and yelling, and at the same time he shakes a bundle of dried leaves, which sounds like the animals dashing about among grass and reeds.
Then he flings himself down on the ground, and throws up dust in the air, so that he is completely hidden in it, still growling and fighting.
If any jackal is within sound of this, he comes tearing out of the jungle, and dashes into the dust to join in the fight. When he finds a man there, he comes out again in a hurry, but meantime the dogs have been loosed from all sides, and they quickly catch him and kill him.
Mr. William Long, in his very interesting book calledBeasts of the Field, describes how he once called a moose. The moose is a very huge kind of stag, with an ugly, bulging kind of nose. He lives in the forests of North America and Canada, and is very hard to get near; and is pretty dangerous when he is angry.
Mr. Long was in a canoe fishing when he heard a moose bull calling in the forest—so just for fun he went ashore and cut a strip of bark off a birch tree and rolled it up so as to make a kind of megaphone, With this he proceeded to imitate the roaring grunt of the bull moose. The effect was tremendous; the old moose came tearing down, and even came into the water and tried to get at him—and it was only by hard paddling that in the end he got away.