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FOOTNOTES:
[C] The Guide will note that there are rare exceptions to these rules.
[D] The Guide will remember that Totemism and Tabuism were ideas which grew up long after the use of Totems began.
THINGS TO DO
Things to Do
TALE 73
Bird-nesting in Winter
What good are old bird-nests? These are some of the ends they serve. A Deermouse seeking the safety of a bramble thicket and a warm house, will make his own nest in the forsaken home of a Cat-bird. A Gray Squirrel will roof over the open nest of a Crow or Hawk and so make it a castle in the air for himself. But one of the strangest uses is this: The Solitary Sandpiper is a bird that cannot build a tree nest for itself and yet loves to give to its eggs the safety of a high place; so it lays in the old nest of a Robin, or other tree bird, and there its young are hatched. But this is only in the Far North. There are plenty of old bird-nests left for other uses, and for you.
Bird-nesting in summer is wicked, cruel, and against the law. But bird-nesting in winter is good fun and harms no one, if we take only the little nests that are built in forked twigs, or on rock ledges. For most little birds prefer to make a new nest for themselves each season.
If you get: A Goldfinch, floss nest;
A Phoebe, moss nest;
A Robin, mud nest;
A Vireo, good nest;
A Kingbird, rag nest;
An Oriole, bag nest;
you have six different kinds of beautiful nests that are easily kept for the museum, and you do no harm in taking them.
TALE 74
The Ox-eye Daisy or Marguerite
Do you know that "Daisy" means "day's eye," because the old country Daisy opens its eyes when day comes, and shuts them every night. But our Daisy is different and much bigger, so we have got into the way of calling it "Ox-eye." Some of our young people call it "Love-me; love-me-not," because they think it can tell if one is loved. They pull out the white rays of the flower one by one, saying, "He loves me; he loves me not; he loves me; he loves me not." Then what they are saying as the last is pulled, settles the question. If the Daisy says "He loves me," they take a second Daisy and ask the next question, "Will he marry me?" Then, pulling the rays as before, "This year, next year, some time, never." And in this way they learn all that the Daisies know about these important matters.
We call it "our Daisy," but it is not a true native of America. Its home is Europe. The settlers of New England, missing the flower of their homeland, brought it over and planted it in their gardens. It spread widely in the North; but it did not reach the South until the time of the Civil War, when it is said to have gone in with the hay for Sherman's Army, to become a troublesome weed in the fields.
* * * * *
This scrap of history is recorded in a popular ballad.
There's a story told in Georgia 'Tis in everybody's mouth, That 'twas old Tecumseh Sherman Brought the Daisy to the South. Ne'er that little blossom stranger In our land was known to be, Till he marched his blue-coat army From Atlanta to the sea.
TALE 75
A Monkey-hunt
We all love to go a-hunting; every one of us in some way; and it is only the dislike of cruelty and destruction that keeps most of us from hunting animals continually, as our forebears did.
Some of my best days were spent in hunting. The Arabs say, "Allah reckons not against a man's allotted span the days he spends in the chase."
I hope that I may help many of you to go a-hunting, and to get the good things of it, with the bad things left out.
Come! Now it is the spring of the year, and just the right time for a Monkey-hunt. We are going prowling along the brookside where we are pretty sure of finding our game. "See, there is a Monkey tree and it is full of the big Monkeys!"
"What! That pussy-willow?"
Yes, you think they are only pussy-willows, but wait until you see. We shall take home a band of the Monkeys, tree and all, and you will learn that a pussy-willow is only a baby Monkey half done.
Now let us get a branch of live elderberry and one or two limbs of the low red sumac. It is best to use sumac because it is the only handy wood that one can easily stick a pin through, or cut. The pieces should be five or six inches long and about half an inch to an inch thick. They should have as many odd features as possible, knots, bumps, fungus, moss, etc.; all of which add interest to the picture.
To these we must add a lot of odd bits of dry cane, dry grasses, old flower-stalks, moss, and gravel, etc., to use for background and foreground in the little jungle we are to make for our Monkeys to play in. It is delightful to find the new interest that all sorts of queer weeds take on, when we view them as canes or palms for our little jungle.
Now with the spoils of our hunt, let us go home and preserve the trophies.
Cut off about three inches of the elderberry wood and have it clear of knots; cut a flat ended ramrod so as just to fit the bore, and force out the pith with one clean sharp push: or else whittle away the surrounding wood. The latter way gives a better quality of pith.
Now take a piece of the pith about one-third the size of a big pussy-willow, use a very sharp knife and you will find it easy to whittle it into a Monkey's head about the shape of "a" and "b."
Use a very sharp-pointed, soft black pencil to make the eyes, nose, the line for the mouth and the shape of the ears; or else wait till the pith is quite dry, then use a fine pen with ink.
If you are skilful with the knife you may cut the ears so that they hang as in "d."
Stick an ordinary pin right down through the crown of the head into a big pussy-willow that will serve as a body (e). If you glue the head on it is harder to do, but it keeps the body from being mussed up. Cut two arms of the pith (ff) and two feet (gg), drawing the lines for the fingers and toes, with the sharp black pencil, or else ink as before.
Cut a long, straight pointed piece of pith for a tail, dip it in boiling water, then bend it to the right shape "h."
Cut a branch of the sumac so that it is about four inches high, and of the style for a tree; nail this on a block of wood to make it stand. Sometimes it is easier to bore a hole in the stand and wedge the branch into that.
Set the Monkey on the limb by driving the pin into it as at "i," or else glueing it on; and glue on the limbs and tail. Sometimes a little wad of willow-down on the Monkey's crown is a great help. It hides the pin.
Now set this away for the glue to harden.
Meanwhile take an ordinary cigar box about two inches deep, line it with white paper pasted in; or else paint it with water colour in Chinese white. Colour the upper part sky colour; the lower, shaded into green, getting very dark on the bottom. Lay a piece of glass or else a scrap of an old motor-car window-isinglass on the bottom, and set in a couple of tacks alongside to hold it; this is for a pool.
Make a mixture of liquid glue, one part; water, five parts; then stir in enough old plaster of Paris, whitening, or even fine loam to make a soft paste. Build banks of this paste around the pool and higher toward the back sides. Stick the tree, with its stand and its Monkeys, in this, to one side; dust powder or rotten wood over the ground to hide its whiteness; or paint it with water colours.
Use all the various dry grasses, etc., to form a jungle; sticking them in the paste, or glueing them on.
And your jungle with its Monkeys is complete.
* * * * *
Many other things may be used for Monkeys. I have seen good ones made of peanuts, with the features inked on, and a very young black birch catkin for tail. Beautiful birds also can be made by using a pith body and bright feathers or silks glued on for plumes. The pith itself is easily coloured with water colours.
You will be delighted to see what beautiful effects you can get by use of these simple wild materials, helped with a little imagination.
And the end of the Monkey-hunt will be that you have learned a new kind of hunting, with nothing but pleasant memories in it, and trophies to show for proof.
TALE 76
The Horsetail and the Jungle
Long, long ago, millions of years ago, this world was much hotter than it is now. Yes, in mid-winter it was hotter than it is now in mid-summer. Over all Pennsylvania there were huge forests of things that looked a little like palms, but some looked like pipes with joints, and had wheels of branches or limb wheels at every joint. They were as tall as some palms, and grew in swamps.
When one of those big joint-wheels fell over, it sank into the mud and was forgotten. So at last the swamp was filled up solid with their trunks.
Then for some unknown reason all the big joint-trees died, and the sand, mud, and gravel levelled off the swamp. There they lay, and slowly become blacker and harder under the mud, until they turned into coal.
That is what we burn to-day, the trunks of the wheel-jointed swamp trees. But their youngest great-grandchild is still with us, and shows, in its small way, what its great ancestors were like.
You will find it along some railway bank, or in any damp woods. Country people who know it, call it Joint Grass or Horsetails; the books call it Equisetum. The drawing will show you what to look for.
Gather a handful and take them home. Then get some of the moss known as ground-pine, a small piece of glass (the Guide should see that the edges of the glass are well rubbed with a stone, to prevent cutting the fingers), a cigar box, and white paste or putty, as in the Monkey-hunt.
Make a pool with the glass, and banks around it of the paste. Now cover these banks with the ground pine; using a little glue on the under side of each piece, but leave an open space without moss at the back, near the pool. Take a pointed stick and make holes through the moss into the clay or putty, and in each hole put one of the Horsetails, cutting it off with scissors if too tall for the top, till you have a thicket of these stems on each side; only make more on one side than on the other.
* * * * *
Now for the grand finish. You must make an extinct monster. Get half a walnut shell; cut a notch at one end where the neck will be; fill the shell with putty; stick in wooden pegs for legs, tail, and head. The central stalk of a tulip-tree fruit makes a wonderful sculptured tail; the unopened buds of dogwood do for legs, also cloves have been used. Any nobby stick serves for head if you make eyes and teeth on it.
When dry this makes a good extinct monster. Set it on the far bank of the water, and you have a jungle, the old Pennsylvania jungle of the days when the coal was packed away.
TALE 77
The Woods in Winter
Go out to the nearest chestnut tree, and get half a small burr; trim it neatly. Fill it with putty; set four wooden pegs in this for legs, a large peg for a head and a long thin one for a tail. On the head put two little black pins for eyes. Now rub glue on the wooden pegs and sprinkle them with powdered rotten wood, or fine sand, and you have a Burr Porcupine. Sometimes carpet tacks are used for legs. You will have to wear strong leather gloves in making this, it is so much like a real Porcupine.
Now go into your woods and get a handful of common red cedar twigs with leaves on, or other picturesque branches, some creeping moss of the kind used by flower dealers to pack plants, various dried grasses, and a few flat or sharp-cornered pebbles. Take these home. Get a cigar box or a candy-box, some paper, clay or putty and glass, as already described for the Monkey-hunt. Make a pond with the glass and a bank with the clay and pebbles. Paint the top of the clay, and tops of the pebbles with the thin glue, and also part of the glass; then sprinkle all with powdered chalk, whitening, plaster of Paris or talcum powder for snow. Put the Porcupine in the middle, and you have the "Woods in Winter."
TALE 78
The Fish and the Pond
Go out and get the cone of a Norway Spruce tree, or a White Spruce; this is the body of your Fish. Cut two round spots of white paper for eyes, glue them on, and when dry, put a black ink spot in the middle of each. Add a curved piece of paper on each side for gills. Then with an awl or with the point of the scissors make holes in the sides, in which put fins cut out of brown paper, fixing them in with glue. Then, with the knife blade, make a long cut in the back, and split the tail, and in each cut glue a thick piece of brown paper cut fin shape. When dry, draw lines on these with ink. Now you have a good Fish.
For the pond, take a cigar-box, paint the lower quarter of it dark green, and the upper part shaded into light blue, for sky. Glue a piece of glass or else carwindow celluloid level across this near the bottom. This is for water. Hide all the back and side edges of the glass with clay banks as described in the Monkey-hunt, or with moss glued on. Put a fine black thread to the Fish's back, another to his tail, and hang him level above the water by fastening the threads to the top of the box. Label it "Pond Life" or the "Fish at Home."
TALE 79
Smoke Prints of Leaves
Collect one or two leaves that have strongly marked ribs; elm and raspberry are good ones. Take a piece of paper that is strong, but rather soft, and about as big as this page. Grease, or oil it all over with paint-oil, butter, or lard. Then hold it, grease-side down, in the smoke of a candle, close to the flame, moving it about quickly so that the paper won't burn, until it is everywhere black with soot.
Lay the paper flat on a table, soot-side up, on a piece of blotting paper. Lay the leaf on this; then, over that, a sheet of paper. Press this down over all the leaf. Lift the leaf and lay it on a piece of soft, white paper; press it down as before, with a paper over it, on which you rub with one hand while the other keeps it from slipping; lift the leaf, and on the lower paper you will find a beautiful line-drawing of the leaf, done in black ink; which, once it is dry, will never rub out or fade away.
At one corner write down the date and the name of the leaf.
TALE 80
Bird-boxes
You can win honours in Woodcraft if you make a successful bird-box. That is one made by yourself, and used by some bird to raise its brood in.
There are three kinds of birds that are very ready to use the nesting places you make. These are the Robin, Wren, and Phoebe. But each bird wants its own kind exactly right, or will not use it.
First the Robin wants a shelf, as in the picture. It should be hung against a tree or a building, about ten feet up, and not much exposed to the wind. It should also be in a shady place or at least not where it gets much sun.
The nails sticking up on the floor are to hold the nest so the wind will not blow it away. The Phoebe-shelf is much the same only smaller.
The Wren-box should be about four or five inches wide and six inches high inside, with a hole exactly seven eighths inch wide. If any bigger, the Wren does not like it so well, and other birds may drive the Wren away. Many Wren-boxes are made of tomato tins, but these are hard to cut a hole in. The Wren-box should be hung where the sun never shines on it all summer, as that would make it too hot inside.
TALE 81
A Hunter's Lamp
In the old pioneer days, every hunter used to make himself a lamp, for it was much easier to make than a candle. It is a good stunt in Woodcraft to make one. Each woodcrafter should have one of his own handiwork. There are four things needed in it: The bowl, the wick, the wick-holder and some fat, grease, or oil.
For the bowl a big clam shell does well.
For wick a strip of cotton rag rolled into a cord as thick as a slate pencil, and about two inches long; a cotton cord will do, or perhaps the fibrous bark of milkweed or other native stuff is the truly woodcraft thing.
For wick-holder get a piece of brick, stone, or a small clam shell about as big as a half dollar. Bore a hole through the middle to hold the wick. It is not easy to get the hole through without splitting the stone, but sometimes one can find a flat pebble already bored. Sometimes one can make a disc of clay with a hole in it, then burn this hard in a fierce fire, but the most primitive way is to rub the bump of a small clam shell on a flat stone till it is worn through.
For oil use the fat, grease, lard, or butter of any animal, if it is fresh, that is without salt in it.
Fill the bowl with the grease, soak the wick in grease and set it in the holder so that half an inch sticks up; the rest is in the grease. The holder rests on the bottom of the bowl.
Light the end that sticks up. It will burn with a clear, steady light till all the oil is used up.
To have made a lamp that will burn for half an hour is counted an "honour" in Woodcraft, and may win you a badge if you belong to a Woodcraft Tribe.
TALE 82
The Coon Hunt
Take a little bundle of white rags, or paper, as large as a walnut; call this the "Coon." While all the young folks hide their eyes or go out of the room, the Guide puts the Coon on some place, high or low, but in plain view; then, going away from it, shouts "Coon!"
Now the young scouts have to find that Coon, each looking about for himself. As soon as one sees it, he says nothing, but sits down. Each must find it for himself, then sit down silently, until all are down. Last down is the "booby"; first down is the winner; and the winner has the right to place the Coon the second time, if the Guide does not wish to do it.
This is often played indoors and sometimes a thimble is used for the Coon.
TALE 83
The Indian Pot
This is something everyone can make, no matter how young, and each, including the Guide, should make one.
Get a lump of good stiff clay; yellow is better than blue, only because it is a better colour when finished.
Work the clay up with water till soft, pick out all stones, lumps, and straws. Then roll it out like a pancake; use a knife to cut this into laces a foot long and about as thick as a pencil.
Dip your fingers in water, take one of these laces and coil it round and round as in "a," soldering it together with water rubbed on and into the joints. Keep on adding, shaping and rubbing, till you have a saucer about three inches across and a quarter of an inch thick. Put this away in some shady place to set, or harden a little; otherwise it would fall down of its own weight.
After about an hour, wet the rim, and build up on that round and round with laces as before, until you have turned the saucer into a cup, about four inches across, and, maybe three inches high. Set this away to stiffen. Then finish the shape, by adding more coils, and drawing it in a little. When this has stiffened, make a "slip" or cream of clay and water, rub this all over the pot inside and out; use your fingers and a knife to make it smooth and even. When this is done, use a sharp point, and draw on the pot any of the Indian designs show in the sketches, using lines and dots for the shading.
Now set the pot in some shady place to dry. High above the stove in the kitchen is a good place, so long as it is not too near the stove-pipe. After one day bring it nearer the heat. Then about the second day, put it in the oven. Last of all, and this is the hardest part to do, let the Guide put the bone-dry pot right into the fire, deep down into the red coals at night, and leave it there till next day. In the morning when the fire is dead, the pot should be carefully lifted out, and, if all is well, it will be of hard ringing red terra cotta.
The final firing is always the hardest thing to do, because the pots are so easily cracked. If they be drawn out of the fire while they are yet hot, the sudden touch of cold air usually breaks them into pieces.
Now remember, O Guide! A pot is made of the earth, and holds the things that come out of the earth to make life, that feed us and keep us. So on it, you should draw the symbols that stand for these things. At the foot of preceding page you see some of them.
TALE 84
Snowflakes, the Sixfold Gems of Snowroba
You have heard of the lovely Snowroba, white calm beautiful Snowroba, the daughter of King Jackfrost the Winter King, whose sad history was told in the first Tale. You remember how her robe was trimmed with white lace and crystal gems, each gem with six points and six facets and six angles, for that is one of the strange laws of the white Kingdom, the sixfold rule of gems. I did not give a good portrait of the White Princess, but I can show you how to make the Jewels which sparkled on her robe.
Take a square of thin white paper three or four inches wide (a). Fold it across (b), and again, until it is a square (c), half as wide as "a." Mark on it the lines as in "d," and fold it in three equal parts as in "e." Now with pencil draw the heavy black lines as in "f, g, h." Cut along these lines with scissors, open out the central piece, and you have your snow-gems as on facing page.
You can see for yourself that these are true to the gem-law of the White Kingdom, if, when next the snow comes down, you look for the biggest flakes as they lie on some dark surface. You will find many patterns all of them beautiful, and all of them fashioned in accordance with the law.
Are You Alive?
Little boy or girl, are you all alive? Just as alive as an Indian? Can you see like a hawk, feel like a blind man, hear like an owl? Are you quick as a cat? You do not know! Well, let us find out in the next eight tales. In these tests 100 is kept in view as a perfect score in each department, although it is possible in some cases to go over that.
TALE 85
Farsight
1. Hold up a page of this book, and see how far off you can read it. If at 60 inches, measured with a tapeline from your eye to the book, then your eye number is 60, which is remarkably good. Very few get as high as 70.
2. Now go out at night and see how many Pleiades you can count; see Tale 52. If you see a mere haze, your star number is 0; if you see 4 little pin points in the haze, your number is 8; if you see 6, your number is 12. If you see 7 your number is 14; and you will not get beyond that.
3. Now look for the Pappoose on the Squaw's back, as in Tale 50. If you do not see it, you score nothing. If you can see it, and prove that you see it, your number is 14 more.
Now add up these, thus: 60 plus 14 plus 14; this gives 88 as your farsight number. Anything over 60 means you can see like a hawk.
TALE 86
Quicksight
Take two boards, cards or papers, each about half a foot square; divide them with black lines into 25 squares each, i. e. 5 each way; get 6 nuts and 4 pebbles, or 6 pennies and 4 beans; or any other set of two things differing in size and shape.
Let the one to be tested turn his back, while the Guide places 3 nuts and 2 pebbles on one of the boards, in any pattern he pleases, except that there must be only one on a square.
Now, let the player see them for 5 seconds by the watch; then cover it up.
From memory, the player must place the other 3 nuts and 2 pebbles on the other board, in exactly the same pattern. Counting one for every one that was right. Note that a piece exactly on the line does not count; but one chiefly in a square is reckoned to be in that square.
Do this 4 times. Then multiply the total result by 5. This gives his quicksight number, to be added to his aliveness score.
TALE 87
Hearing
Can you hear like an owl? An owl can find his prey by hearing after dark. His ears are wonderful. Let us try if yours are.
1. Watch-test. First, you must be blindfolded, and in some perfectly quiet place indoors. Now have the Guide hold a man's watch (open if hunting-cased), near your head; if you can hear it at 40 inches, measured on a tapeline, and prove that you do, by telling exactly where it is, in several tries, your hearing number is 40, which is high. If at 20 inches, it is low (20 pts.); if at 60 inches (60 pts.), it is remarkable. Anything over 50 points means you can hear like an owl. In this you go by your best ear.
2. Pindrop-test. Sometimes it is difficult to get a good watch-test. Then the trial may be made with an ordinary, silvered brass stick-pin, 1-1/8 inches long, with small head. Lay the pin on a block of wood that is exactly half an inch thick. Set this on a smooth polished board, or table top of hardwood, not more than an inch thick, and with open space under it. Set it away from the edge of the table so as to be clear of the frame and legs. After the warning "ready," let the Guide tip the block of wood, so the pin drops from the block to the table top (half an inch). If you hear it at 35 feet in a perfectly still room, your hearing is normal, and your hearing number is 35. If 20 feet is your farthest limit of hearing it, your number is 20, which is low. If you can hear it at 70 feet, your number is 70, which is remarkable.
You can use either the watch-test or the pin-test. If you use both, you add the totals together, and divide by 2, to get your hearing number.
TALE 88
Feeling
1. Have you got wise fingers like a blind man?
Put 10 nickels, 10 coppers and 10 dimes in a hat or in one hand if you like. Then, while blindfolded, separate them into three separate piles, all of each kind in a separate pile, within 2 minutes. If it takes you the full 2 minutes (120 seconds), you are slow, and your feel number is 0. If you do it without a mistake in 1 minute and 20 seconds, your feel number is 40, one point for each second you are less than 2 minutes. But you must take off 3 points for every one wrongly placed, so 3 wrongly placed would reduce your 40 to 31. I have known some little boys on the East Side of New York to do it in 50 seconds without a mistake, so their feel-number by coins was 70. That is, 120 seconds minus 50 seconds equals 70. This is the best so far.
2. Now get a quart of corn or beans. Then when blindfolded, and using but one hand, lay out the corn or beans in "threes"; that is, three at a time laid on the table for 2 minutes. The Guide may move the piles aside as they are made. Then stop and count all that are exactly three in a pile (those with more or less do not count at all). If there are 40 piles with 3 in each, 40 is your number, by corn.
3. The last test is: Can you lace your shoes in the dark, or blind-folded, finishing with a neat double bow knot?
Arrange it so your two shoes together have a total of at least 20 holes or hooks to be used in the test, i. e., which do not have the lace in them when you begin. Allow 1 point for each hole or hook, i. e., 20 points, finish the lacing in 2 minutes, in any case stop when the 2 minutes is up; then take off 2 points for each one that is wrongly laced, or not laced. Thus: Supposing 4 are wrong, take off 4 times 2 from 20, and your blindfold lacing number is 12; if the number wrong was 10 or more, your lacing number is 0; if you had 3 wrong, your number is 14.
Suppose by these three tests—coins, corn, and laces—you scored 40, 30, and 14; add these together and they give your feel number; 84.
TALE 89
Quickness
Put down 12 potatoes (or other round things) in a row, each one exactly 6 feet from the last, and the last 12 feet from a box with a hole in it, just large enough to take in one potato. Now at the word "go," run and get the first potato, put it through the hole into the box; then get the second, bring it to the box, and so on, one at each trip. After one minute, stop. Now multiply the number of potatoes in the box by 10, and you have your quickness number. If you have 8 in the box, you score 80 points, you are as quick as a cat. Very few get over 80. No one so far has made 100 points.
TALE 90
Guessing Length
Take two common nails, or other thin bits of metal, and lay them on a table or board, at what you guess to be exactly one yard (36 inches) apart. Then let the Guide lay the tape-line on it, and, allowing 20 points for exactly right, take off 1 point for each half inch you are wrong, over or under. Do not count quarter inches, but go by the nearest half-inch mark. Do this 5 times, add up the totals, that will give your guessing-length number.
Thus, if your first guess turns out to be 37 inches, that is, 2 half-inches too much, 2 from 20 gives 18 points. Your next guess was 34 inches, that is 4 half-inches too little, 4 from 20 gives 16 points. Your next guess gave 12 points, your next 17, and your last 19. The total, 18 plus 16 plus 12 plus 17 plus 19, equals your number of guessing length or 82.
TALE 91
Aim or Limb-control
Take 25 medium-sized potatoes, and set up a bucket or bag whose mouth is round and exactly one foot across. Draw a line exactly 10 feet from the bucket or bag. Toe that line, and throw the potatoes, one by one, into the bag. Those that go in, then bounce out, are counted as in. Do it four times, then add up all the four totals of those that went in; that gives your aim or control number.
For example, suppose that in the 4 tries you got 10 in the first time, 15 in the second, 20 in the third, 19 in the fourth. Add these together, it gives your arm-control or aim number as 64.
Now add up all these high numbers:
Farsight 88 Quicksight 50 Hearing 50 Feeling 84 Quickness 80 Guessing Length 82 Aim 64
Your aliveness number is 498
But very few can score so high. If you can score 400 you are surely alive; you can see like a hawk, you can take in at a glance, you can hear like an owl, you can feel like a blind man, you are quick as a cat, you are a good judge of size, and you can aim true; That is, you are as alive as an Indian.
TALE 92
A Treasure Hunt
Make 24 little white sticks, each about three inches long, and as thick as a pencil. They are easy to make of willow shoots, after the bark is peeled off. While the young folk hide their eyes, the Guide walks off in the woods, ties a white rag on a tall stake or limb, for the point of beginning. Then, one step apart and in a very crooked line, sets each of the little white sticks in the ground, standing straight up. Under the last stick should be buried the treasure; usually a stick of chocolate. This the players are to find by following the sticks.
When the young folk get used to it, the line should be longer, the sticks farther apart, and the last one may be ten steps from the last but one.
When they are well trained at it, scraps of paper, white beans, corn, or even chalk marks on trees, instead of sticks, will serve for trail; and still later holes prodded in the ground with a sharp pointed cane will do.
This game can be played in the snow; in which case, the track of the Guide, when he hides the treasure, takes the place of the sticks.
Finally it makes a good game for indoors on a rainy day. In which case we use buttons, corn, or scraps of white cotton for trail sticks. Of course the trail now should be upstairs and down, and as long and crooked as possible.
TALE 93
Moving Pictures
One of the best developers of imagination is the Moving Picture. Sometimes called Pantomime, or Dumb-show which means all signs without sounds.
The one who is to put on the "movie" is given a subject and must then stand out on the stage or Council Ring, and carry all the story to the spectators, without using any sound and with as few accessories as possible.
The "print between the reels" is supplied by the Guide who simply announces what is needed to explain.
The following subjects have been used successfully (unless otherwise stated they are for one actor each):
Miss Muffet and the Spider—the well-known Nursery Rhyme Old Mother Hubbard Little Jack Horner Mary and her Little Lamb Red Ridinghood—walk through the woods, meeting the wolf, etc. Robinson Crusoe—finding the track of a man in the sand A Barber Shop—shaving a customer (two actors) The Man's First Speech at a Dinner The Politician who was rotten-egged after vainly trying to control a meeting Joyride in a Ford Car—ending in a bad upset (two actors) The Operation—a scene in a hospital following the accident (two or more) The Professor of Hypnotism and His Subject (two actors) The Man who Found a Hair in His Soup The Young Lady Finds a Purse, on opening it a mouse jumps out and she remembers that it is 1st of April A Young Man Telephoning to His Best Girl A Man Meeting and Killing a Rattlesnake Lighting a Lamp Drawing a Cork Looking for a Lost Coin—finding it in one pocket or shoe A Musician Playing His Own Composition The Sleeping Beauty and the Prince (two actors) Goldilocks and the Three Bears William Tell and the Apple (best rendered in caricature with a pumpkin and two actors) Eliza Crossing the Ice The Kaiser Signing His Abdication The Judgment of Solomon (three actors) Brutus Condemning His Two Sons to Death.
TALE 94
A Natural Autograph Album
If you live in the country, I can show you an old Woodcraft trick. Look for a hollow tree. Sometimes you can pick one out afar, by the dead top, and sometimes by noting a tree that had lost one of the biggest limbs years ago. In any case, basswoods, old oaks and chestnuts are apt to be hollow; while hickories and elms are seldom so, for once they yield to decay at all, they go down.
Remember that every hollow tree is a tenement house of the woods. It may be the home of a score of different families. Some of these, like Birds and Bats, are hard to observe, except at nesting time. But the fourfoots are easier to get at. For them, we will arrange a visitors' book at the foot of the tree, so that every little creature in fur will write his name, and some passing thought, as he comes to the tree.
How?
Oh, it is simple; I have often done it. First clear and level the ground around the tree for three or four feet; then cover it with a coat of dust, ashes, or sand—whichever is easiest to get; rake and brush it smooth; then wait over one night.
Next morning—most quadrupeds are night-walkers—come back; and you will find that every creature on four feet that went to the tree tenement-house has left us its trail; that is its track or trace.
No two animals make the same trail, so that every Squirrel that climbed, every 'Coon or 'Possum, every Tree-mouse, and every Cottontail that went by, has clearly put himself on record without meaning to do so; and we who study Woodcraft can read the record, and tell just who passed by in the night.
TALE 95
The Crooked Stick
Once upon a time there was a girl who was very anxious to know what sort of a husband she should get; so, of course, she went to the old wood-witch.
The witch asked a few questions, then said to the girl: "You walk straight through that woods, turn neither to right nor left, and never turn back an inch, and pick me out a straight stick, the straighter the better; but pick only one, and bring it back."
So the girl set out. Soon she saw a fine-looking stick close at hand; but it had a slight blemish near one end, so she said: "No; I can do better than that." Then she saw another that was perfect but for a little curve in the middle, so she passed it by.
Thus she went, seeing many that were nearly perfect; but walking on, seeking one better, till she was quite through the woods. Then she realized her chances were nearly gone; so she had to take the only stick she could find, a very crooked one indeed, and brought it to the witch, saying that she "could have got a much better one had she been more easily satisfied at the beginning."
The witch took the stick, waved it at the girl and said: "then this is your fortune; through the woods and through the woods and out with a crooked stick. If you were less hard to please, you would have better luck; but you will pass many a good man by, and come out with a crooked stick."
* * * * *
Maybe some of our Woodcraft girls can find an initiation in this. Put it just as the witch did it, but let it be considered a success if the stick is two feet long and nowhere half an inch out of true line. Let me add a Woodcraft proverb which should also have its mead of comfort—The Great Spirit can draw a straight line with a crooked stick.
TALE 96
The Animal Dance of Nana-bo-jou
For this we need a Nana-bo-jou; that is, a grown-up who can drum and sing. He has a drum and drumstick, and a straw or paper club; also two goblins, these are good-sized boys or girls wearing ugly masks, or at least black hoods with two eyeholes, made as hideous as possible; and any number of children, from three or four up, for animals. If each has the marks, colours, etc., of some bird or beast, so much the better.
First, Nana-bo-jou is seen chasing the children around the outside of the circle, trying to catch one to eat; but failing, thinks he'll try a trick and he says: "Stop, stop, my brothers. Why should we quarrel? Come, let's hold a council together and I will teach you a new dance."
The animals whisper together and the Coyote comes forward, barks, then says:
"Nana-bo-jou, I am the Coyote. The animals say that they will come to council if you will really make peace and play no tricks."
"Tricks!" says Nana-bo-jou, "I only want to teach you the new songs from the South."
Then all the animals troop in and sit in a circle. Nana-bo-jou takes his drum and begins to sing:
"New songs from the South, my brothers, Dance to the new songs."
Turning to one, he says: "Who are you and what can you dance?"
The answers are, "I am the Beaver [or whatever it is] and I can dance the Beaver Dance."
"Good! Come and show me how."
So the Beaver dances to the music, slapping the back of his flat right hand, up and under his left hand for a tail, holding up a stick in both paws to gnaw it, and lumbering along in time to the music, at the same time imitating the Beaver's waddle.
Nana-bo-jou shouts: "Fine! That is the best Beaver Dance I ever saw. You are wonderful; all you need to be perfect is wings. Wouldn't you like to have wings so you could fly over the tree-tops, like the Eagle?"
"Yes," says the Beaver.
"I can make strong medicine and give you wings, if all the animals will help me," says Nana-bo-jou. "Will you?"
"Yes," they all cry.
"Then all close your eyes tight and cover them with your paws. Don't look until I tell you. Beaver, close your eyes and dance very fast and I will make magic to give you wings."
All close and cover their eyes. Nana-bo-jou sings very loudly and, rushing on the Beaver, hits him on the head with the straw club. The Beaver falls dead. The two goblins run in from one side and drag off the body.
Then Nana-bo-jou shouts: "Look, look, now! See how he flies away! See, there goes the Beaver over the tree-tops." All look as he points and seem to see the Beaver going.
Different animals and birds are brought out to dance their dances and are killed as before. Then the Crow comes out, hopping, flopping, cawing. Nana-bo-jou looks at him and says: "You are too thin. You are no good. You don't need any more wings," and so sends him to sit down.
Then the Coyote comes out to do the Coyote Dance, imitating Coyote, etc.; but he is very suspicious and, in answer to the questions, says: "No; I don't want wings. The Great Spirit gave me good legs, so I am satisfied"; then goes back to his seat.
Next the Deer, the Sheep, etc., come out and are killed; while all the rest are persuaded that the victims flew away. But the Coyote and the Loon have their doubts. They danced in their turns, but said they didn't want any change. They are satisfied as the Great Spirit made them. They are slow about hiding their eyes. At last, they peek and realize that it is all a trap and the Loon shouts: "Nana-bo-jou is killing us! It is all a trick! Fly for your lives!"
As they all run away, Nana-bo-jou pursues the Loon, hitting him behind with the club, which is the reason that the Loon has no tail and has been lame behind ever since.
The Loon shouts the Loon battle-cry, a high-pitched quavering LUL-L-L-O-O-O and faces Nana-bo-jou; the animals rally around the Loon and the Coyote to attack the magician. All point their fingers at him shouting "Wakan Seecha" (or Black Magic). He falls dead in the circle. They bury him with branches, leaves, or a blanket, and all the animals do their dances around him.
Before beginning, the story of the dance should be told to the audience.
TALE 97
The Caribou Dance
The easiest of our campfire dances to learn, and the best for quick presentation, is the Caribou Dance. It has been put on for public performance after twenty minutes' rehearsing, with those who never saw it before, because it is all controlled and called off by the Chief. It does equally well for indoor gymnasium or for campfire in the woods.
In the way of fixings for this, you need only four pairs of horns and four cheap bows. Real deer horns may be used, but they are scarce and heavy. It is better to go out where you can get a few crooked limbs of oak, cedar, hickory or apple tree; and cut eight pairs, as near like those in the cut as possible, each about two feet long and one inch thick at the butt. Peel these, for they should be white; round off all sharp points of the branches, then lash them in pairs, as shown. A pair, of course, is needed for each Caribou. These are held in the hand and above the head, or in the hand resting on the head.
The four Caribou look best in white. Three or four hunters are needed. They should have bows, but no arrows. The Chief should have a drum and be able to sing the Muje Mukesin, or other Indian dance tune. One or two persons who can howl like Wolves should be sent off to one side, and another that can yell like a Lynx or a Panther on the other side, well away from the ring. Otherwise the Chief or leader can do the imitations. Now we are ready for
THE DANCE OF THE WHITE CARIBOU
The Chief begins by giving three thumps on his drum to call attention; then says in a loud, singing voice: "The Caribou have not come on our hunting grounds for three snows. We need meat. Thus only can we bring them back, by the big medicine of the Caribou Dance, by the power of the White Caribou."
He rolls his drum, then in turn faces each of the winds, beckoning, remonstrating, and calling them by name; Kitchi-nodin (West); Keeway-din (North); Wabani-nodin (East); Shawani-nodin (South). Calling last to the quarter whence the Caribou are to come, finishing the call with a long KO-KEE-NA. Then as he thumps a slow single beat the four Caribou come in in single file, at a stately pace timed to the drum. Their heads are high, and they hold the horns on their heads, with one hand, as they proudly march around. The Chief shouts: "The Caribou, The Caribou!" After going round once in a sun circle (same way as the sun), they go each to a corner. The Chief says: "They honour the symbol of the Great Spirit." The drum stops; all four march to the fire. They bow to it together, heads low, and utter a long bellow.
Then the Chief shouts: "They honour the four Winds, the Messengers."
Then the Caribou back up four paces each, turn suddenly and make a short bow, with a short bellow, then turn and again face the fire.
The Chief shouts: "Now they live their wild free lives on the plain." He begins any good dance song and beats double time. The Caribou dance around once in a circle.
The Chief shouts: "Full of life they fight among themselves."
The first and second Caribou, and third and fourth, close in combat. They lower their heads, lock horns held safely away from the head, snort, kick up the dust, and dance around each other two or three times.
The music begins again, and they cease fighting and dance in a circle once more.
The music stops. The Chief shouts: "They fight again." Now the first and fourth and second and third lock horns and fight.
After a round or so the music begins again and they cease fighting and again circle, dancing as before.
The Chief calls out: "The Wolves are on their track."
Now the howling of Wolves is heard in the distance, from the fellows already posted.
The Caribou rush toward that side and face it in a row, threatening, with horns low, as they snort, stamp, and kick up the dust.
The Wolf-howling ceases. The Caribou are victorious. The Chief shouts: "They have driven off the Wolves." They turn away and circle once to the music, holding their heads high.
Now Panther-yelling (or other menacing sound) is heard in the other direction. The Chief shouts: "But now the Panthers have found them out."
Again the Caribou line up and show fight. When it ceases, the Chief cries out: "They have driven off the Panther." Now they dance proudly around, heads up, chests out as they step, for they have conquered every foe.
Then the Chief calls out: "But another, a deadlier enemy comes. The hunters are on their trail." The hunters appear, crawling very low and carrying bows. They go half around the ring, each telling those behind by signs, "Here they are; we have found them," "Four big fellows," "Come on," etc. When they come opposite the Caribou, the first hunter lets off a short "yelp." The Caribou spring to the opposite side of the ring, and then line up to defy this new noise; but do not understand it, so gaze as they prance about in fear. The hunters draw their bows together, and make as though each lets fly an arrow. The first Caribou drops, the others turn in fear and run around about half of the ring, heads low, and not dancing; then they dash for the timber. The hunters run forward with yells. The leader holds up the horns. All dance and yell around the fallen Caribou and then drag it off the scene.
The Chief then says: "Behold, it never fails; the Caribou dance brings the Caribou. It is great medicine. Now there is meat in the lodge and the children cry no longer."
TALE 98
The Council Robe
The Woodcraft Council Robe is something which every one may have, and should make for himself. It may be of any shade, of gray, buff, orange, or scarlet. The best ones are of a bright buff. In size they are about five feet by six feet, and the stuff may be wool, cotton, silk, or a mixture. My own is of soft or blanket cotton.
The robe is used as a wall banner, a personal robe, or a bed spread, and has for the first purpose two or more tag-loops sewn on the top. For the second, it has a head-hole or poncho-hole, an upright slit near one end (hh), and for the last, there are one or two buttons or tie-strings to close the poncho-hole. These are the useful features of the robe.
The ornamental features are the records on it. While these vary with each owner, the following usually appear: The Fourfold fire, near the middle; the Woodcraft shield, the owner's totem, the symbols of each coup and each degree won by the owner.
To this many add a pictographic record of great events or of camps they have visited.
The easiest way to make the robe is to use paints on the cotton fabric.
The favourite way and more beautiful way, is to use appliques of coloured cloths for the design.
The most beautiful is to embroider in silk or mercerized cotton. But the last is very slow, and calls for much labour as well as some money.
On the preceding page are shown four different styles of robe; you may choose or adapt which you please, except that only a Sagamore may use the one with the 24 feathers in the centre.
THINGS TO REMEMBER
Things to Remember
TALE 99
How the Wren Became King of the Birds
The story is very old, and it may not be true, but this is how they tell it in many countries.
The animals had chosen the lion for their King because his looks and his powers seemed to fit him best of all for the place. So the birds made up their minds that they also would have a royal leader.
After a long council it was decided that, in spite of strong opposition from the Ostrich and his followers, the one with the greatest powers of flight should be King. And away all flew to see which could go the highest.
One by one they came down tired out, till only two were to be seen in the air: the Eagle and the Turkey-buzzard still going up. At last they got so high that the Turkey-buzzard froze his ears off for they were naked. Then he gave it up. The Eagle went still higher to show how strong he was, then sailed downward to claim the royal honours.
But just as they were about to give him the crown, the Wren hopped off the top of the Eagle's head, where he had been hiding in the long feathers, and squeaked out, "No matter how high he was, I was a little bit higher, so I am King."
"You," said the Eagle; "Why I carried you up."
"Nothing to do with it," said the Wren.
"Then let's try it over," said the Eagle.
"No, no," said the Wren, "one try was agreed on, and it's settled now, I was higher than you."
And they have been disputing over it ever since. The lawyers take the Wren's side and the soldiers take the Eagle's side.
The peasants in Europe sometimes speak of the Eagle as "the King of the Birds," but they always call the Wren the "Little King." And that is why we call our gold-crowned Wrens, Kinglets, or Kingwrens and I suppose that is why they wear a crown of gold.
TALE 100
The Snowstorm
It was at the great winter Carnival of Montreal not long ago. Looking out of a window on a stormy day were five children of different races: an Eskimo, a Dane, a Russian, an Indian, and a Yankee. The managers of the Carnival had brought the first four with their parents; but the Yankee was the son of a rich visitor.
"Look," cried the little Eskimo from Alaska, as he pointed to the driving snow. "Look at the ivory chips falling! El Sol is surely carving a big Walrus tusk into a fine dagger for himself. See how he whittles, and sends the white dust flying."
Of course he didn't say "El Sol," but used the Eskimo name for him.
Then the Dane said: "No, that isn't what makes it. That is Mother Earth getting ready for sleep. Those are the goose feathers of her feather bed, shaken up by her servants before she lies down and is covered with her white mantle."
The little Indian, with his eyes fixed on the storm, shook his head gravely and said: "My father taught me that these are the ashes from Nana-bo-jou's pipe; he has finished his smoke and is wrapping his blanket about him to rest. And my father always spake true."
"Nay, you are all wrong," said the little Russian. "My grandmother told me that it is Mother Carey. She is out riding in her strongest, freshest steed, the White Wind. He has not been out all summer; he is full of strength and fury; he spumes and rages. The air is filled with the foam from his bridle, and froth from his shoulders, as she rides him, and spurs him, and rides him. I love to see it, and know that she is filling the air with strength and with messages. They carry me back to my own dear homeland. It thrills me with joy to see the whiteness."
But the Yankee boy said: "Why, it's just snowing."
TALE 101
The Fairy Lamps
There was once a little barelegged, brown-limbed boy who spent all his time in the woods. He loved the woods and all that was in them. He used to look, not at the flowers, but deep down into them, and not at the singing bird, but into its eyes, to its little heart; and so he got an insight better than most others, and he quite gave up collecting birds' eggs.
But the woods were full of mysteries. He used to hear little bursts of song, and when he came to the place he could find no bird there. Noises and movements would just escape him. In the woods he saw strange tracks, and one day, at length, he saw a wonderful bird making these very tracks. He had never seen the bird before, and would have thought it a great rarity had he not seen its tracks everywhere. So he learned that the woods were full of beautiful creatures that were skillful and quick to avoid him.
One day, as he passed by a spot for the hundredth time, he found a bird's nest. It must have been there for long, and yet he had not seen it; and so he learned how blind he was, and he exclaimed: "Oh, if only I could see, then I might understand these things! If only I knew! If I could see but for once, how many there are, and how near! If only every bird would wear over its nest this evening a little lamp to show me!"
The sun was down now; but all at once there was a soft light on the path, and in the middle of it the brown boy saw a Little Brown Lady in a long robe, and in her hand a rod.
She smiled pleasantly and said: "Little boy, I am the Fairy of this Woods. I have been watching you for long. I like you. You seem to be different from other boys. Your request shall be granted."
Then she faded away. But at once the whole landscape twinkled over with wonderful little lamps—long lamps, short lamps, red, blue, and green, high and low, doubles, singles, and groups; wherever he looked were lamps—twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, here and everywhere, until the forest shone like the starry sky. He ran to the nearest, yes, a nest; and here and there, each different kind of lamp stood for another kind of nest. A beautiful purple blaze in a low tangle caught his eye. He ran to it, and found a nest he had never seen before. It was full of purple eggs, and there was the rare bird he had seen but once. It was chanting the weird song he had often heard, but never traced. But the eggs were the marvelous things. His old egg-collecting instinct broke out. He reached forth to clutch the wonderful prize, and—in an instant all the lights went out. There was nothing but the black woods about him. Then on the pathway shone again the soft light. It grew brighter, till in the middle of it he saw the Little Brown Lady—the Fairy of the Woods. But she was not smiling now. Her face was stern and sad, as she said: "I fear I set you over-high. I thought you better than the rest. Keep this in mind:
"Who reverence not the lamp of life can never see its light."
Then she faded from his view, and he never saw the lamps again.
TALE 102
The Sweetest Sad Song in the Woods
Once a great American poet was asked which he thought was the sweetest voice in the woods. He said: "The sweetest sound in Nature is the calling of the Screech Owl."
Sometimes, though rarely, it does screech, but the sound it most often makes is the soft mournful song that it sings in the woods at night, especially in the autumn nights.
It seems to be moaning a lament for the falling leaves, a sad good-bye to the dear dying summer.
Last autumn one sat above my head in the dark October woods, and put his little soul into a song that seemed to be
Ohhhh! Ohhhh! The leaves are falling: Ohhhh! Ohhhh! A sad voice calling; Ohhhh! Ohhhh! The Woodbirds flying; Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Sweet summer's dying, Dying, Dying.
A mist came into my eyes as I listened, and yet I thanked him. "Dear voice in the trees, you have said the things I felt, and could not say; but voicing my sadness you have given it wings to fly away."
TALE 103
Springtime, or the Wedding of Maka Ina and El Sol
Oh, that was a stirring, glowing time! All the air, and the underwood seemed throbbed with pleasant murmuring voices. The streams were laughing, the deep pools smiling, as pussy-willows scattered catkins on them from above. The oak trees and the birches put on little glad-hangers, like pennants on a gala ship. The pine trees set up their green candles, one on every big tip-twig. The dandelions made haste to glint the early fields with gold. The song toads and the peepers sang in volleys; the blackbirds wheeled their myriad cohorts in the air, a guard of honour in review. The woodwale drummed. The redbud draped its naked limbs in early festal bloom; and Rumour the pretty liar smiled and spread the news.
All life was smiling with the frank unselfish smile, that tells of pleasure in another's joy.
The love of love is wider than the world. And one who did not know their speech could yet have read in their reflected joy a magnitude of joyful happening, could guess that over two beings of the highest rank, the highest rank of happiness impended.
Yes, all the living world stood still at gaze: the story of the bridegroom, the gracious beauty of the bride were sung, for the wedding day had come. And Mother Carey, she was there, for were they not her peers? And the Evil One—he came, but slunk away, for the blessing of the one Great Oversoul was on them.
Oh, virile, radiant one, El Sol! Oh, Maka Ina! bounteous mother earth, the day of joining hand in hand passed by. The joy is with us yet; renewed each year, when March is three weeks gone. Look, then, ye wanderers in the woods! Seek in the skies, seek in the growing green, but find it mostly in your souls, and sing!
TALE 104
Running the Council
Every good Woodcrafter should know the way of the Council Ring.
Select some quiet level place out of doors; in the woods if possible, for it is so much better if surrounded by trees.
Make a circle of low seats; the circle should be not less than 12 feet or more than 20 feet across, depending somewhat on the number to take part.
In the middle prepare for a small fire. At one side is a special seat for the Chief; this is called the Council Rock.
On very important occasions take white sand or lime, and draw a circle around the fire. Then from that draw the four lamps and the twelve laws as in Tale 105.
When all is ready with the Guide on the Council Rock, and the Scouts in their seats, the Guide stands up and says: "Give ear my friends, we are about to hold a council. I appoint such a one, Keeper of the fire and so-and-so, Keeper of the tally. Now let the Fire-keeper light the fire."
Next the Tally-keeper calls the roll. After which the business part of the Council is carried on exactly the same as any ordinary meeting, except that instead of addressing the "Chairman," they say, "O Chief"; instead of "yes" they say "ho," instead of "no" they say "wah."
The order of doings in Council is:—
Opening and fire-lighting Roll Call Reading and accepting tally of last Council Reports of Scouts (things observed or done) Left-over business New business Honours Honourable mention (For the good of the Tribe) Complaints and suggestions. (Here business ends and entertainment begins.) Challenges Games, contests, etc. Close by singing Omaha Prayer (Tale 108)
TALE 105
The Sandpainting of the Fire
When I was staying among the Navaho Indians, I met John Wetherall, the trader. He had spent half his life among them, and knew more of their ways than any other white man that I met. He told me that part of the education of Navaho priest was knowing the fifty sandpaintings of his tribe. A sandpainting is a design made on the ground or floor with dry sands of different colours—black, white, gray, yellow, red, etc. It looks like a rug or a blanket on the ground, and is made up of many curious marks which stand for some man, place, thing, or idea. Thus, the first sandpainting is a map of the world as the Navaho knew it, with rivers and hills that are important in their history. These sandpaintings cannot be moved; a careless touch spoils them, and a gust of wind can wipe them out. They endure only in the hearts and memories of the people who love them.
In the Woodcraft Camp there is but one sandpainting that is much used; that is, the Sandpainting of the Fourfold Fire. When I make it in camp, I use only white sand or powdered lime; but indoors, or on paper, I use yellow (or orange) and white.
This is the story of the sandpainting. The fire is the symbol of the Great Spirit; around that we draw a great circle, as in the diagram.
At each of the four sides we light another fire; these four are called Fortitude, Beauty, Truth, and Love, and come from the Fire through Spirit, Body, Mind, and Service.
Then from each of these we draw three golden rays. These stand for the twelve laws of Woodcraft, and they are named in this way:
Be Brave, Be Silent and Obey; Be Clean, Be Strong, Protect Wild Life alway; Speak True, Be Reverent, Play Fair as you Strive! Be Kind; Be Helpful; Glad you are alive.
And the final painting is as in the drawing. Of course the names are not written on the real thing though the Woodcraft scout should know them.
TALE 106
The Woodcraft Kalendar
The Woodcraft Kalendar is founded on the Indian way of noting the months. Our own ancestors called them "Moons" much as the Indians did. Our word "month" was once written "moneth" or "monath" which meant a "moon or moon's time of lasting." The usual names for the moons to-day are Latin, but we find we get closer to nature if we call them by their Woodcraft names, and use the little symbols of the Woodcraft Kalendar.
TALE 107
Climbing the Mountain
Afar in our dry southwestern country is an Indian village; and in the offing is a high mountain, towering up out of the desert. It is considered a great feat to climb this mountain, so that all the boys of the village were eager to attempt it. One day the Chief said: "Now boys, you you may all go to-day and try to climb the mountain. Start right after breakfast, and go each of you as far as you can. Then when you are tired, come back: but let each one bring me a twig from the place where he turned."
Away they went full of hope, each feeling that he surely could reach the top.
But soon a fat, pudgy boy came slowly back, and in his hand he held out to the Chief a leaf of cactus.
The Chief smiled and said: "My boy, you did not reach the foot of the mountain; you did not even get across the desert."
Later a second boy returned. He carried a twig of sagebrush.
"Well," said the Chief. "You reached the mountain's foot but you did not climb upward."
The next had a cottonwood spray.
"Good," said the Chief; "You got up as far as the springs."
Another came later with some buckthorn. The Chief smiled when he saw it and spoke thus: "You were climbing; you were up to the first slide rock."
Later in the afternoon, one arrived with a cedar spray, and the old man said: "Well done. You went half way up."
An hour afterward, one came with a switch of pine. To him the Chief said: "Good; you went to the third belt; you made three quarters of the climb."
The sun was low when the last returned. He was a tall, splendid boy of noble character. His hand was empty as he approached the Chief, but his countenance was radiant, and he said: "My father, there were no trees where I got to; I saw no twigs, but I saw the Shining Sea."
Now the old man's face glowed too, as he said aloud and almost sang: "I knew it. When I looked on your face, I knew it. You have been to the top. You need no twigs for token. It is written in your eyes, and rings in your voice. My boy, you have felt the uplift, you have seen the glory of the mountain."
* * * * *
Oh Ye Woodcrafters, keep this in mind, then: the badges that we offer for attainment, are not "prizes"; prizes are things of value taken by violence from their rightful owners. These are merely tokens of what you have done, of where you have been. They are mere twigs from the trail to show how far you got in climbing the mountain.
Wa-kon-da dhe-dhu Wa-pa dhin a-ton-he.
Wa-kon-da dhe-dhu Wa-pa-dhin a-ton-he.
(By permission from Alice C. Fletcher's "Indian Story and Song.")
Translation:
Father a needy one stands before thee; I that sing am he.
This old Indian prayer is sung by the Council standing in a great circle about the fire with feet close together, hands and faces uplifted, for it is addressed to the Great Spirit. At the final bars the hands and faces are lowered to the fire.
Books by Ernest Thompson Seton
WILD ANIMALS I HAVE KNOWN, 1898
The stories of Lobo, Silverspot, Molly Cottontail, Bingo, Vixen, The Pacing Mustang, Wully and Redruff. (Scribners.)
THE TRAIL OF THE SANDHILL STAG, 1899
The story of a long hunt that ended without a tragedy. (Scribners.)
BIOGRAPHY OF A GRIZZLY, 1900
The story of old Wahb from cubhood to the scene in Death Gulch. (The Century Company.)
LOBO, RAG AND VIXEN, 1900
This is a school edition of "Wild Animals I Have Known," with some of the stories and many of the pictures left out. (Scribners.)
THE WILD ANIMAL PLAY, 1900
A musical play in which the parts of Lobo, Wahb, Vixen, etc., are taken by boys and girls. Out of print. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
THE LIVES OF THE HUNTED, 1901
The stories of Krag, Randy, Johnny Bear, The Mother Teal, Chink, The Kangaroo Rat, and Tito, the Coyote. (Scribners.)
PICTURES OF WILD ANIMALS, 1901
Twelve large pictures for framing (no text), viz., Krag, Lobo, Tito Cub, Kangaroo Rat, Grizzly, Buffalo, Bear Family, Johnny Bear, Sandhill Stag, Coon Family, Courtaut the Wolf, Tito and her family. Out of print. (Scribners.)
KRAG AND JOHNNY BEAR, 1902
This is a school edition of "The Lives of the Hunted" with some of the stories and many of the pictures left out. (Scribners.)
TWO LITTLE SAVAGES, 1903
A book of adventure and woodcraft and camping out for boys, telling how to make bows, arrows, moccasins, costumes, teepee, war-bonnet, etc., and how to make a fire with rubbing sticks, read Indian signs, etc. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
MONARCH, THE BIG BEAR OF TALLAC, 1904
The story of a big California grizzly that is living yet. (Scribners.)
ANIMAL HEROES, 1905
The stories of a Slum Cat, a Homing Pigeon, The Wolf That Won, A Lynx, A Jackrabbit, A Bull-terrier, The Winnipeg Wolf, and a White Reindeer. (Scribners.)
WOODMYTH AND FABLE, 1905
A collection of fables, woodland verses, and camp stories. (The Century Company.)
BIRCH-BARK ROLL, 1906
The Manual of the Woodcraft Indians, first edition, 1902. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE TEN COMMANDMENTS, 1907
Showing the Ten Commandments to be fundamental laws of all creation. 78 pages. (Scribners.)
THE BIOGRAPHY OF A SILVER FOX, 1909
or Domino Reynard of Goldur Town, with 100 illustrations by the author. 209 pages.
A companion volume to "Biography of a Grizzly." (The Century Company.)
LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTHERN ANIMALS, 1909
In two sumptuous quarto volumes with 68 maps and 560 drawings by the author. Pages, 1267.
Said by Roosevelt, Allen, Chapman, and Hornaday to be the best work ever written on the Life Histories of American Animals. (Scribners.)
BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA, 1910
A handbook of Woodcraft, Scouting, and Life Craft Including the Birch-Bark Roll. 192 pages. Out of print. (Doubleday, Page & Co.) The year-book of the Boy Scouts of America is now handled by the American News Co.
ROLF IN THE WOODS, 1911
The Adventures of a Boy Scout with Indian Quonab and little dog Skookum. Over 200 drawings by the author. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES, 1911
A canoe journey of 2,000 miles in search of the Caribou. 415 pages with many maps, photographs, and illustrations by the author. (Scribners.)
THE BOOK OF WOODCRAFT AND INDIAN LORE, 1912
with over 500 drawings by the author. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
THE FORESTER'S MANUAL, 1912
One hundred of the best-known forest trees of eastern North America, with 100 maps and more than 200 drawings. Out of print. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
WILD ANIMALS AT HOME, 1913
with over 150 sketches and photographs by the author. 226 pages. In this Mr. Seton gives for the first time his personal adventures in studying wild animals. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
MANUAL OF THE WOODCRAFT INDIANS, 1915
The fourteenth Birch-Bark Roll. 100 pages. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
WILD ANIMAL WAYS, 1916
More animal stories introducing a host of new four-footed friends, with 200 illustrations by the author. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
WOODCRAFT MANUAL FOR BOYS, 1917
A handbook of Woodcraft and Outdoor life for members of the Woodcraft League. 440 pp. 700 ills. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
WOODCRAFT MANUAL FOR GIRLS, 1917
Like the foregoing but adapted for girls. 424 pp., Illus. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
THE PREACHER OF CEDAR MOUNTAIN, 1917
A novel. A tale of the open country. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
SIGN TALK, 1918
A Universal Signal Code, Without Apparatus, for use in the Army, the Navy, Camping, Hunting, Daily Life and among the Plains Indians. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
WOODLAND TALES, 1921
Delightful children's stories, of fable and fairy-tale flavour, with the wild things of the woodland for their heroes. In the heart of each some nature secret is revealed. (Doubleday, Page & Co.)
BY MRS. ERNEST THOMPSON SETON
(Published by DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO.)
A WOMAN TENDERFOOT, 1901
A book of outdoor adventures and camping for women and girls. How to dress for it, where to go, and how to profit the most by camp life.
NIMROD'S WIFE, 1907
A companion volume, giving Mrs. Seton's side of the many campfires she and her husband lighted together in the Rockies from Canada to Mexico.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Page 79, "gr dy" changed to "greedy" (as greedy as he)
Page 134, "throught he" changed to "through the" (through the outer)
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