← catalogue

Young Knights of the Empire : Their Code, and Further Scout Yarns

by Baron Robert Stephenson Smyth Baden-Powell Baden-Powell of Gilwell · English · Gutenberg #6673 · 384,467 chars · public domain (US)

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Young Knights of the Empire : Their Code, and Further Scout Yarns
    
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.

Title: Young Knights of the Empire : Their Code, and Further Scout Yarns

Author: Baron Robert Stephenson Smyth Baden-Powell Baden-Powell of Gilwell


        
Release date: October 1, 2004 [eBook #6673]
                Most recently updated: June 3, 2012

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6673

Credits: Produced by Steve Schulze, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from images generously made available by the CWRU Preservation Department Digital Library


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YOUNG KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE : THEIR CODE, AND FURTHER SCOUT YARNS ***




Produced by Steve Schulze, Charles Franks and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team. This file was produced from
images generously made available by the CWRU Preservation
Department Digital Library











YOUNG KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE

THEIR CODE AND FURTHER SCOUT YARNS

BY

SIR ROBERT BADEN-POWELL K.C.B., K.C.V.O., LL.D.

AUTHOR OF "SCOUTING FOR BOYS," "YARNS FOR BOY SCOUTS," "SCOUTING
GAMES," "MY ADVENTURES AS A SPY," ETC.

1917



FOREWORD


TO BOY-MEN,--

In offering this collection of yarns, I do not suggest that these are
anything more than further illustrations of the steps already schemed
in _Scouting for Boys_ for self-education in character and good
citizenship.

But illustrations by themselves are of comparatively little value
unless the theories and ideas conveyed by them are also put into
actual and habitual practice.

It is in this that the boy needs your encouragement.

                                 ROBERT BADEN-POWELL




YOUNG KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE




THE SCOUT LAW

Perhaps you wonder what is a Young Knight of the Empire.

Well, you know what a knight is--or rather, used to be in the old
days--a gallant fellow who was always ready to defend weaker people
when they were being bullied; he was brave and honourable, and ready
to risk his life in doing his duty according to the code or law of
Chivalry.

Well, nowadays there are thousands of boys all over the British Empire
carrying out the same idea, and making themselves into fine, reliable
men, ready to take the place of those who have gone away to fight and
who have fallen at the Front. These are the Boy Scouts. Their code is
the Scout Law--that is, a set of ten rules which they carry out in
their daily life.

I will explain these Laws, and will give you some other yarns of camp
life and adventure such as the Scouts go in for.

HONOUR

Law 1. A SCOUT'S HONOUR IS TO BE TRUSTED.

_If a Scout says "On my honour it is so," that means it is so, just
as if he had taken a most solemn oath._

_Similarly if a Scout officer says to a Scout, "I trust you on your
honour to do this," the Scout is bound to carry out the order to the
very best of his ability, and to let nothing interfere with his doing
so._

_If a Scout were to break his honour by telling_ a lie, or_ by
not carrying out an order exactly when trusted on his honour to do so,
he may be directed to hand over his Scout badge and never wear it
again. He may also be directed to cease to be a Scout._

People of a civilised country, just like boys in a school, are bound
to conduct themselves in a proper manner, because of the law which
causes them to be punished if they misbehave. There is a code of laws
drawn up for this purpose.

But there is another kind of law which binds people just as much as
their written laws, though this one is neither written nor published.

This unwritten law is Honour.

A boy who has clambered over the school wall to go out of bounds and
smoke secretly has committed an offence against the published law of
the school. If next day the master asks in school, "Who has broken out
of bounds?" the boy is not bound by the law to confess that he did; he
can remain silent and thus escape punishment; but he is a
poor-spirited creature if he does so, and has no sense of honour. If
he is honourable he will manfully and honestly tell the master that he
broke out and will stand whatever punishment comes of it. By so doing
he will have proved to the master and to the other boys that he is
manly and not afraid to tell the truth, and is to be relied upon
because he puts his honour before all.

So the first training that the Boy Scout gets is to understand that
Honour is his own private law which is guided by his conscience, and
that once he is a Scout he must be guided in all his doings by his
sense of Honour.


LOYALTY

Law 2. A SCOUT IS LOYAL to the King, and to his officers, and to his
parents, his Country, his employers, and to those under his orders. He
must stick to them through thick and thin against anyone who is their
enemy or who even talks badly of them.

There was a Scoutmaster in the East End of London who when the war
broke out felt it his duty to give up the splendid work he was doing
amongst the poor boys of the East End in order to take up service for
his Country.

Scoutmaster Lukis--for that is his name--felt bound, by his sense of
loyalty to his King and his Country, to give up the life he was then
living and face the dangers of soldiering on active service.

But the example which he set in loyalty was promptly followed by some
eighty young fellows who were his Scouts or Old Scouts.

Their loyalty to him made them wish to follow their leader wherever
his duty led him. So they became soldiers like himself and all went
together to the Front.

A day came when the trenches which they were holding were heavily
shelled. The danger was great and the losses were heavy, and finally a
piece of shrapnel struck Captain Lukis in the leg and shattered his
thigh. Two of his East London Boy Scout's sprang to his assistance and
tended him with devoted care. They waited for a lull in the firing and
finally between them they carried him, although exposed to a deadly
fire, to a place of safety. While so doing one of them was hit and
severely wounded.

But the spirit of the lads was splendid. They cared nothing for their
own safety so that they got their beloved Scoutmaster out of danger.
That was loyalty.

Loyalty means faithfulness. Your dog is faithful to you and sticks to
you even though you may beat him. He overlooks your faults and your
unkindness and remains loyal to you.

Loyalty begins at home.

Some boys are always thinking that their parents are wrong or unfair
to them. If you think that your parents have any faults, don't look at
those faults. Be loyal to your parents; remember only that it is
thanks to them that you are alive and able to be a Scout.

Obey your parents, believe in them, and respect them; if you can at
any time help them, do so. By doing these things you are being loyal
to them. By being loyal to them you are carrying out that commandment
of the Bible which says: "Honour thy father and thy mother." Be loyal,
also, in the same way-by obeying and thinking no evil and by backing
them up-to your Patrol-leader, your Scoutmaster, and your
schoolmaster. If you are a working boy carry out the same idea towards
your foreman, your manager, and your employer.

On taking up your work, you have agreed to do a certain amount for a
certain wage, and it is loyalty on your part then to stick to that
agreement and to give good work in return for your pay.

If, on the other hand, you are a well-to-do boy and come to have a
servant or a man working under you as you grow older, you should
equally be loyal to him. Remember that in taking him on you expect a
certain amount of work from him for the money you give him; if you
find that he gives you more work than you agreed for, you will be
acting loyally to him if you then increase his wage: but never go back
on your agreement, and do not try to make more money out of him than
you meant to do when first making the contract. So, too, if you are a
Patrol or other leader, and if those under you get into trouble
through carrying out your ideas, be loyal to them; own up that it was
through your fault that they did wrong.

Whatever line of life you may be in, be loyal to God, to your King,
and to your Country.

       *       *       *       *       *

ANTARCTIC SCOUTING.

All Boy Scouts know of Sir Ernest Shackleton, a brother peace-scout of
the Empire--and a first-class one, too.

On one of his voyages of exploration to the South Pole he was very
nearly successful in getting to that point, he was within ninety-seven
miles of it, in fact, when his food supplies gave out, and he and
those with him were in great danger of starving, and had, most
unwillingly, to turn back to regain their ship.

They had left the ship when they had got her as far south as was
possible through the ice; they then went on foot over land and sea,
all hard frozen and covered with snow, and they took their food with
them, and stored depots, or what Scouts would call "caches," to use on
their return journey. For weeks they struggled along over difficult
ground.

One day in January, although they had cut down their rations and ate
as little as possible (so little indeed that they were getting weak),
they found that they were coming to the end of their food, and they
must either turn back or go on and die, in which case the record of
their work would have been lost. So they planted a flagstaff with the
Union Jack on it, and left a box containing a notice that they had
annexed the land for Great Britain and King Edward VII.

They took a long look with their field-glasses in the direction of the
South Pole to see if any mountains were to be seen, but there were
none. And then they started on their desperate tramp to the ship.

They made a number of interesting and useful discoveries. They came
upon mountains and glaciers of ice, and mineral rocks of coal and
limestone.

And they found tiny insects which are able to live in the ice, and
when they boiled them, they did not kill them!

They found that the penguins, the great wingless birds which sit up
and look just like people, enjoyed listening to a gramophone, which
they set going for their benefit.

But their journey back was a very anxious and trying experience for
them.

In order to guide them they had planted flags here and there along
their path, but storms came and blew them down, and it was, therefore,
most difficult to find their way from one food depot to another. They
did it largely by spooring their old tracks.

This is how Sir Ernest Shackleton describes their doings on one
particular day:

"We were thirty miles from our depot. Although we could see it in the
distance, it was practically unattainable, for soft snow covered
treacherous crevasses, and as we stumbled along in our search for food
we seemed to get no nearer to our longed-for goal. The situation was
desperate.

"Two of our party, utterly worn out and exhausted, fell in harness,
but with the greatest pluck again pushed on as soon as they had
temporarily recovered. It was with a feeling of devout thankfulness
that we crossed the last crevasse and secured some food. Beyond a
little tea we had had nothing for thirty-four hours, and previously to
that our last meal consisted merely of one pannikin of half-cooked
pony maize-not much foundation for work under such conditions, and
with an extremely low temperature. Under these conditions we marched
sixteen miles in twenty-two hours.

"On another occasion during that same journey we were all struck down
with dysentery, and this at a distance of ninety miles from our depot.
Though the weather was fine, we were all too weak to move, but here,
as on other occasions, Providence came to our rescue, and strong
southerly blizzards helped us along.

"From December 4th, 1908, to February 23rd, 1909, we lived in a state
of constant anxiety, intensified by more acute knowledge gained from
narrow escapes and close contact with death. Over and over again there
were times when no mortal leadership could have availed us.

"It was during these periods that we learnt that some Power beyond our
own guided our footsteps. If we acknowledged this--as we did--down
among the ice, it is only fitting that we should remember it now when
the same Power has brought us safely home through all these troubles
and dangers. No one who has seen and experienced what we have done
there can take credit to himself for our escape from what appeared to
be overwhelming difficulties."

Sir Ernest Shackleton also praises the conduct of his officers and men
as helping largely to their success. He says:

"We were all the best of comrades. Every man denied himself, and was
eager to do his level best."

True Scouts, all of them.

       *       *       *       *       *

SOME FAMOUS VICTORIES THROUGH LOYALTY TO LEADERS.

Trafalgar.

The month of October is full of glorious national memories for Scouts.

On October 21st, 1805, was fought the battle of Trafalgar, when the
British Fleet, under Admiral Lord Nelson, attacked and defeated the
combined forces of French and Spanish men-of-war.

It looked almost hopeless for a small fleet to attack so large a one;
but Nelson made that grand signal which called on every man _that
day to do his duty,_ and every man, like a true Scout, did his
duty, even though in many a case it cost him his life.

Nelson himself showed the example, for he drove his ship in between
two of the enemy's ships and fought them, one against two. He never
attempted to take cover, but exposed himself to danger as much as
anyone, and was killed at the moment of victory. The sailors of to-day
still wear a black silk neckerchief round their necks as a sign of
mourning for the great admiral.

       *       *       *       *       *

BALACLAVA.

Then on October 25th, 1854, in the Crimea, in South Russia, took place
two grand charges by the British cavalry-against the Russian cavalry.

One of these, the charge of the Light Brigade, every boy knows about,
but somehow the charge of the Heavy Brigade is not so much talked
about, although it was equally fine in its way.

I have been lucky, because I have served in two cavalry regiments, and
both of them were in these charges one, the 13th Hussars, was in the
Light Brigade, and the other, the 5th Dragoon Guards, was in the Heavy
Brigade.

I don't mean that I was in the charges, too-no; I wasn't born then!
But I am very proud to belong to two regiments that were there.

Hussar regiments are called light cavalry, because they used to have
small, light-weight men who could ride far and fast to scout the
enemy. Dragoons were heavy troopers on big, strong horses, who by
their weight and long swords could deliver an overwhelming charge upon
an enemy.

A Brigade consists of three regiments. Two Brigades make up a
Division. So the Cavalry Division in the Crimea was made up of a Light
Brigade and a Heavy Brigade.

On October 25th the Light Cavalry Brigade got the order to charge the
Russian artillery, which was supported by the infantry and cavalry.

It was a hopeless task. The order had really been given by mistake.
But that did not matter to men who were accustomed to obey. They
charged, and, though it cost them a great number of gallant lives,
they carried out their duty with such bravery and dash as to command
the highest praise even from their enemies, and they won for British
soldiers the name of being ready to sacrifice their lives to carry out
their orders, even though the job looked hopeless. That is why Scouts
to-day have as their motto the single word,

"BALACLAVA"

to remind them that if they get an order which it is a bore or even a
danger to perform, their duty is to do as their brave fathers did at
Balaclava, and carry it out cheerily and well.

Now I will tell you about the charge of the Heavy Brigade,

       *       *       *       *       *

"THE THIN RED LINE."

You have often heard the British Army talked of as "the thin red
line." Well, it got that title at Balaclava. Four hundred men of the
93rd Highlanders and a battalion of Turks were posted to guard the
road leading to the harbour of Balaclava, when the Russians, some
twenty thousand strong, proceeded to attack them. The Turks didn't
like the look of things, so they turned tail and bolted but the brave
Sir Cohn Campbell, who was in command of the Highlanders, said to
them:

"My lads, remember there is no retreat from here. You must die where
you stand."

And the gallant fellows meant to do it if they had to die--but they
were not the sort to say die before they were dead They formed a
line--a "thin red line," as it was afterwards described--on a small
rising ground, and received the first charge of the Russian cavalry
with so well-aimed and deadly a fire, at close range, that it put the
others off charging for a while.

The British Commander-in-Chief, seeing their danger, sent a message to
the Heavy Brigade of cavalry, who were camped in the neighbourhood, to
go to their assistance.

The "Heavies" were already parading just outside their camp, when
suddenly there appeared over the rising ground, within half a mile of
them, the head of a big force of Russian cavalry quietly advancing
towards them. Rather a startling apparition when the squadrons were
all moving out of camp to form up on parade.

But the General--General Scarlett--did not lose his head or hesitate
for a moment.

The enemy were on the left flank of the squadrons as they were moving
out. He ordered them to wheel into line to the left, and, without the
usual first orders to "Trot" and then to "Gallop," he directed his
trumpeter to sound "Charge!" and he at once turned his horse towards
the enemy, and started, with his staff officer and orderly, at a
gallop to lead the attack.

"DO OR DIE."

The Brigade saw what was wanted. They did not wait to form into one
line--that operation would have taken time--but each squadron wheeled
up, and, closing in towards its neighbour, galloped forward to back up
the General in the charge.

The Scots Greys, in red tunics and bearskins, mounted on their grey
horses, were in the front line with some of the Irish Inniskilling
Dragoons, and close behind them came the 5th Dragoon Guards and the
1st Royal Dragoons, with their red tunics and shining helmets.

There were not more than three hundred of them altogether, while the
Russian column amounted to some twelve thousand. 'It looked as if the
British must be smashed up by such overwhelming odds.

[Illustration: This sketch map stows the positions of the British and
Russian Forces in the charge of the Heavy Brigade at Balaclava.]

But the General knew that he must do his best to save "the thin red
line" from being overridden, and the men knew that they had got the
order to "charge," and it was their business to carry out the order,
and not to look at the danger in doing it. So they charged.

The Russians were not less astonished than the British had been;
instead of surprising the British, they were themselves surprised.

For a minute or two they hesitated. No officer gave any command, no
one knew quite what to do, and in another minute the bolt burst upon
them.

General Scarlett and his staff came--bang, _smash_!--right
through their front ranks, followed immediately by the crashing weight
of the Greys and the wildly cheering Inniskillings.

The shock of this charge rolled the foremost ranks of the Russians
down underfoot as it ploughed its way into the centre of the column,
and gave a sort of backward surge to the whole mass-for the Russian
force was simply a big, square mass of men and horses.

Our charge, being made by a very small body, only broke into the
central part of the Russian front, so the two flanks of their line
wheeled forward like two arms to enfold it. But just as they were in
the act of doing so they were caught by our second line of Royal
Dragoons, 5th Dragoon Guards and Inniskillings; and were rolled up and
ridden over in an awful confusion.

These heavy blows seemed to send the great Russian mass staggering
backwards, when at this critical moment two more squadrons of Heavies,
belonging to the 4th Dragoon Guards, suddenly plunged into the right
flank of the Russian column, and completed its break-up.

It reeled again, and in a few minutes more was gradually melting and
spreading over the hills behind in hurried flight from the
battlefield. And the thin red line was saved.

The whole fight had lasted only eight minutes, the British loss was
fifty killed and wounded, while the Russians lost about four hundred.

This battle, like Trafalgar and like many other British victories,
showed that, with good, plucky leaders, backed up by men _who can be
trusted to obey their orders,_ we could attack overwhelming forces
against us and come out victorious every time.

Without discipline it could never have been done.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE LOYALTY OF JACK TARS.

Sir Christopher Myngs was one of the tough sea-dogs of the British
Navy in the old days.

He was killed in action at sea in 1666. He had been wounded by a
bullet in the throat, but he held the wound together with his fingers
and went on fighting till a second shot struck him, and he shortly
afterwards died of his wounds. He was a splendid leader, brave and
strict, and beloved by his men.

His body was brought ashore to be buried in London, and at the funeral
a party of sailors came up to the carriage in which Sir W. Coventry
sat, and the leader of them, with tears in his eyes, asked him to beg
of the King to give them an old ship which they might use as a
fire-ship, and with which they might sail into the middle of the
enemy's fleet and set fire to it.

They would, of course, all lose their lives in doing this, but they
did not mind so long as they could avenge the death of their beloved
leader.

It was a fine spirit of loyalty to their chief which led these simple
seamen to do this, and their loyalty--not the spirit of revenge--is an
example to all to be loyal to their chief in whatever line they may
be. Don't look out for faults in him; note his good points, and stick
to him through thick and thin, for the good of what you and he are
doing together whether it is defending your Country or running a big
business.


USEFULNESS

Law 3. A SCOUT'S DUTY IS TO BE USEFUL AND TO HELP OTHERS.

_And he is to do his duty before anything else, even though he gives
up his own pleasure or comfort or safety to do it. When in difficulty
to know which of two things to do, he must ask himself, "Which is my
duty?" that is, "Which is best for other people?"--and do that one._

_He must Be Prepared at any time to save life or to help injured
persons._

_And must try his best to do a good turn to somebody every day._

       *       *       *       *       *

DO IT NOW.

Once when driving in my car I passed a man on a sunny, dusty road, and
I thought after I had passed him whether I might not have offered to
give him a lift. Then I thought probably he would be only going a
short distance to some house a little farther along the road.

As I sped farther and farther upon my way, I saw no house and no
turning, and therefore I argued that the poor man would have to be
walking all this dusty way when I might have given him a lift.

But while I sat all this time thinking, my car was rushing me miles
away from the spot. Eventually I made up my mind that I ought to go
back and do my good turn to the man. But I had gone so far that when I
got back again to where I expected to find him, he was not to be seen.
He had evidently taken some short cut across the fields, and I never
saw him again.

But the memory of it lingered in my mind for a long time, and ever
since that, when driving along, I have been quick to make up my mind
and use the opportunity when it has presented itself, of giving a lift
to any weary wayfarer.

I don't want to make out myself as being so very good for doing this
kind of good turn, for that is easy enough with a motor-car; but what
I do want to point out is that you should never let your chance go by,
else you may regret it, as it might not occur again. Your motto should
be--"Do it now."

       *       *       *       *       *

GOOD TURNS.

Always remember that in going through this world we only pass this way
once, and if we miss our chance it never comes again.

I believe that our first business in life is to be happy. This world
with all its beauties and its sunshine of happiness was meant for us
to enjoy. When clouds come over with grief or pain, they are only the
contrasts to show us what true happiness is and to make us appreciate
it when it comes.

The shortest and most certain way to happiness is to make other people
happy. Even if we cannot make them happy, we can at least be helpful
to them. But so often we forget to do this, or, as I did in the
motor-car, leave it till too late, and let the chance slip by.

In order to be continually happy, the thing is to be continually doing
good turns. To get a habit you must at first carry out a great deal of
practice, and that is why it is part of the Scout Law to do a good
turn every day.

At first it may come a little difficult to remember each day that you
have this duty to do, and you may have some trouble in finding a job
that will be helpful to other people but if you stick to it, and force
yourself to do it day by day, it very soon grows into a habit with
you, and you then find how many little things you can do which all
count as good turns although small in themselves.

I could tell you endless yarns of the different kinds of "good turns"
which the Boy Scouts have done, but one of the most pleasing that I
have heard lately was when a Scout carefully placed a piece of orange
peel on the pavement, and when asked why he had done this, said:

"I am doing a good turn to some other Scout by giving him the
opportunity of doing his good turn by removing that orange peel so
that people will not slip on it!"

       *       *       *       *       *

"AN AWFUL ACCIDENT."

A poor fellow was lying pretty badly hurt when I came upon him one
afternoon. His left leg was broken, and an artery in his right arm was
cut through, while he was evidently badly burnt about the chest.

How it all happened I didn't stop to inquire--I merely looked at the
steps which had already been taken to doctor him. His arm was bound up
with a handkerchief "tourniquet," twisted tight with a stick, to stop
the blood squirting from the artery; his leg was bound between two
straight bits of wood; and his tummy was covered with a mixture of
wool, oil, and flour, which suggested that with a little more roasting
the patient would have made a good pie!

I need scarcely add there was not much the matter with him except that
he belonged to a patrol of Boy Scouts who were practising "first aid."

In the same troop another patrol were cooking a very savoury Irish
stew, mixing dough on a haversack (which, I think, is quite as good as
my way of doing it inside my coat!), and baking bread in an oven made
out of an old biscuit tin, and roasting "twists" made on stakes
planted near the fire. (For "Tenderfoots," anxious for details as to
how these things are done, I recommend a study of the chapter on camp
cooking in _Scouting for Boys_.)

The point about this cooking was that the food was being really well
cooked, and fit for anyone to eat with enjoyment.

In the same troop signallers were at work sending and receiving
messages. And also one of their horsemen was there to act as mounted
dispatch rider, with a smart pony which he was able to saddle and look
after as well as to ride. Nearly every Scout in this troop was a First
Class Scout, of an average age of thirteen.

Two hundred yards from their little camp was another troop of younger
Scouts, of about eleven years of age. All were busy cooking their teas
at numerous little camp fires at the time when I saw them, and made a
most picturesque scene.

Then a third troop had its camp in a different spot, where three
patrols of boys of about fifteen years of age were collected. Fine,
strapping, long-limbed types of Britons. It was a pleasure to see them
going "Scout pace" across the grass, and a still greater pleasure when
I found that they were as good Scouts as they looked. Nearly all were
First Class Scouts. I was invited to hand out to them the Efficiency
Badges they had been winning.

These included quite a number of First Class, Cyclists', Firemen's,
Musicians', Electricians', Cooks', etc.

I had just said a few words to the troop of my pleasure at seeing them
so smart and so efficient, when the alarm was given that the school
buildings were on fire. A few brief words of command were given by the
Scoutmaster, and each patrol streaked off in a different direction at
a great pace. We hurried to the scene of the outbreak, and had just
time to see (in our mind's eye only) dense clouds of smoke with
tongues of flame and showers of sparks bursting from the doomed
building, while the windows were alive with terrified women and
screaming children--that is what we were picturing--when out came a
knot of Scouts running the fire-hose into position, and joining it up
from one part of the building, while from another there came a second
patrol trundling along the great giraffe-like fire-escape. Within four
minutes of the alarm the leading fireman was up on the ladder
directing the nozzle of the hose-pipe with a strong jet of water on
the windows of the (supposed) burning chamber.

It was all very smartly, quickly, and quietly carried out, and the
patrols thoroughly deserved the Firemen's Badges which they had won.

Denstone College, where I saw all this, is one of the great schools
which have taken up scouting as a sport and training for their boys;
and the results, according to the masters who act as Scoutmasters, are
most satisfactory.

       *       *       *       *       *

SCOUTS' GOOD TURNS.

Recently, all in the one day, I came across three cases of Scouts
doing their duty.

One lady told me that when travelling in a crowded train she and her
daughter were put into a carriage which was already crammed full of
boys.

She did not like it a bit at first, but she soon found the difference
between "Scouts" and "boys." These were "Scouts," and they at once
helped the ladies and their baggage into the carriage, and then made
plenty of room for them by sitting on each other's knees, and kept
order and behaved so nicely that she fell in love with all of them,
and talked with them and found them "quite charming and gentlemanly."

Another lady told me that some Scouts had asked leave to camp in her
grounds, and as she has allowed boys to do this for some years past,
she did not like to refuse them: at the same time she was not very
glad to have them, because she had found it expensive and troublesome
every year to have to get the camping-ground cleaned up and set right
after they had gone.

The day after the Scouts had finished their camp, she sent as usual
some men to work on the camp-ground, when to her astonishment, they
came back and said there was no work to be done there, the ground was
all clean, rubbish and ashes removed, and turf replaced. And then she
remembered that these were "Scouts," not ordinary boys, who had been
camping there--and she will be glad to see them there again whenever
they like to come!

The weather this morning was beautifully hot and fine, but in the
afternoon it suddenly changed to cold, windy, and steady rain. Numbers
of ladies and children had gone out for a day on the beach or in the
country. In one case a woman and her two children had to come back
part of the way in an open boat, and then in a steam-launch, in their
summer clothes, without umbrellas or waterproofs.

A Scout who was there seemed to have foreseen bad weather, as he had
two waterproof coats, and he gave up one and offered it to cover the
children.

"Well!" you would say, "that is easy enough, and he kept himself dry
and snug in the other."

No, he didn't, he put that on the woman, and went and did the best he
could for himself on the lee side of the deck; he put a smile on and
pretended that a cold trickle down the back is a good thing for the
complexion; and that is what any other Scout would have done in the
circumstances.

       *       *       *       *       *

GALLANTRY OF BOY SCOUTS IN HELPING THE POLICE.

On different occasions I have had the pleasure of issuing Silver
Medals to Scouts for gallantry in saving life or assisting the police.

Scoutmaster Crowther, of the Huddersfield Boy Scouts, went to the
assistance of a police constable who was being violently assaulted by
some roughs in a slum. Although he was knocked about himself in doing
so, Crowther managed to help the officer, and, by blowing his whistle,
to get more police on to the scene. The principal offenders were
arrested, and ultimately got six months' imprisonment from the
magistrate, who at the same time highly complimented Mr. Crowther on
his plucky action.

Scout P. L. G. Brown, of the 7th (All Saints) Southampton Troop, did
much the same thing. He saw a police constable struggling with four
violent roughs, and, although there was a hostile crowd round them,
Brown remembered his duty and dashed in to help the officer. Although
he got a kick on the knee, he was able to get hold of the policeman's
whistle and to blow it, and in this way brought more police upon the
scene, so that the four men were arrested and punished.

Brown himself went away without giving his name or making any fuss
about what he had done, but he was discovered and later on received
the Silver Medal.

Then, when I was reviewing the Gateshead Scouts, I heard of the case
of two Boy Scouts being rewarded by the magistrate for their gallantry
in assisting the police.

The Scouts of Newton Abbot were at hand when a motor-car dashed into a
cart, smashing it up and injuring the two occupants. The Scouts
detained the car; and although the motorists endeavoured to drive off,
they put their staves between the spokes of the wheels and hung on and
prevented the car getting away until the police came up and took
charge.

It was splendid how these Scouts showed such pluck and readiness in
helping the King's officers. They got knocked about in doing so, but
what are a few bruises? They wore off in a few days; but the thing
that won't wear off is the satisfaction that each one of those Scouts
will feel for the rest of his life--namely, that he did his duty.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE SCOUT OF LABRADOR.

Dr. Wilfred Grenfell is an ideal type of peace Scout, and during his
labours as a missionary in Labrador he has had many adventures.

On one occasion he had to visit a sick man at a place two days'
journey from where he lived, and he started off with his sledge and
team of dogs, to cross a frozen arm of the sea, which would save him a
long journey round by land. But it was in the month of April, when the
sea ice was beginning to get treacherous and to break up.

The distance across the ice was about seven miles, with an island
about half-way.

He reached the island all right, and was pushing on from there to the
opposite mainland, when he found that the ice was becoming rotten and
soft--what is called "sish"--that is, pounded ice formed from big
slabs which have been ground together by the action of the sea.

As he found himself sinking in this, together with his sledge, he
slipped off his heavy oilskins and coat, and quickly got out his knife
and cut the traces of his dog-team, winding the leader's trace round
his wrist.

In this way he was himself pulled along by the dogs plunging through
the slush. The leading dog got on to a solid ice-floe, and Grenfell
was gladly hauling himself up to him by the trace, when the dog
slipped all his harness off, and his master was left, sinking among
the other dogs in the "sish."

Then he luckily caught the trace of another, and pulled himself along
that till he managed to get on to the block of ice, on to which he
helped the rest of the dogs.

But it was quite a small block, which would soon break up, so he saw
that the only chance was to struggle on through the "porridge-ice"
till he could reach a bigger floe, which could serve as a raft for
him.

He did not, as some people might have done, give up all hope; he
wasn't going to say die till he was dead.

So he took off his gauntlets and moccasins and packed them on to the
dogs' backs, then he secured their harness so that it could not slip
off, and tied the traces round his wrists so that the team would drag
him through; then he tried to start.

But the dogs did not like facing the danger, and he had to push them
off the block; even then they only struggled to get back, till a
particularly favourite dog understanding him when he threw a bit of
ice on to another "pan" or block? started, and so led the others to
get to it.

In this way, dragging their master after them, the dogs struggled from
pan to pan, till at last they reached one larger than the rest, about
ten feet by twelve in size.

It was not real solid ice, but a block of powdered ice, which might
fall to bits at any time. Still, it was the best they could get, and
with the rising wind and current it soon floated with them on to more
open water, and began to drift away from the shore and down the coast.
So they had no choice but to make the best of a very poor substitute
for a raft.

The cold was intense, and poor Grenfell, like a clever Scout, at once
thought out a plan for making himself a coat. His moccasins were long,
soft boots made of sealskin reaching to the thigh, so he slit these up
with his knife, and, by means of a bit of line, he made them into a
kind of cape to put on his back.

Hours passed, and they kept drifting out from the coast, and night was
approaching.

Then he saw that he must have more clothing, and also that he and the
dogs must have some food the only thing to do was to sacrifice one of
his beloved team. So he made a noose with one of the traces, and
slipped it over a dog's neck, and tied it to his own foot; then,
holding its head down in this way, he threw the dog on its back, and
stabbed it to the heart.

Two more were killed in the same way. Then he skinned them and
stitched their hides together with thin strips of leather, and thus
made himself a coat, with the fur inside.

All the clothes he had had on till then were some old football things
he had come across that morning in his house. A pair of football
shorts and stockings of the Richmond Football Club (red, yellow, and
black), and a flannel shirt and sweater, so he was practically in Boy
Scout's kit rather than what you would expect a missionary-doctor to
be wearing.

But then, you see, he was quite as much a Scout as he was a doctor or
missionary; and we understand from this story how, like a Scout, he
was able to turn his hand to anything and invent for himself the
different means for saving his life although he was all alone with his
dogs on a small lump of rotten ice floating past the coast of
Labrador.

There was one little point in which, perhaps, a Boy Scout could have
helped him had he been there. As darkness came on, he thought he would
light up a flare, which would catch the attention of anyone on shore,
so he frayed out a piece of rope and smeared it with the fat of the
dead dogs, and was about to light it when he found that his matches
had got wet, and in that damp air he could not get them dry.

I wonder whether he thought of the Scout's dodge of drying them in his
hair for a minute or two?

[Illustration: Dr. Grenfell as he appeared on the ice-floe, with a
cloak of dog-skins, and puttees made of flannel taken from a dog's
traces. He used his shirt for a flag, and made a flagstaff of frozen
dogs' legs.]

In order to keep warm he used one of the dead dogs as a seat, with the
other dogs hugged close round him for warmth. His feet being in thin
moccasins, which easily got wet through, were freezing with cold till
he thought of an idea for keeping them warm.

He had seen the Laplanders put a lot of grass into their boots before
pulling them on, and then filling up the legs with as much more grass
as they could cram in.

There was not much grass growing on his ice-floe, so Grenfell had to
invent something to use in place of it; he cut from the dogs' traces
some flannel with which they were lined to prevent chafing, and with
this he stuffed the moccasins, and so made them warmer, and then bound
the remainder round his knees as puttees.

In this way he got sufficient warmth to enable him to sleep. Towards
morning he awoke with the idea that he must make something in the way
of a flag to attract the notice of people on shore, and to show them
that there was someone in distress on the ice.

The question was, how to make a flagstaff? I wonder whether a Boy
Scout could have seen a way?

Grenfell took the frozen legs of the three dead dogs, and bound them
together with strips of raw hide, and thus manufactured a staff, on to
which he then tied his shirt to act as a flag. It worked very well
till the sun rose, and then the legs began to melt a little, and the
flagstaff became a very wobbly one; and, as the Doctor describes it,
"almost tied itself into knots."

Like a true Scout, Grenfell never despaired; he kept thinking out
different ways by which he might survive the danger.

He thought of setting light to some unravelled rope by using a piece
of ice to act as a burning glass. In this way he hoped to attract the
attention of the people on shore by a smoke signal; but, while he was
busy preparing it, he saw the distant sparkle of what looked like an
oar from a boat, presently he saw it again, and soon he could see the
boat itself.

His flag had been seen by the fishermen, and they pushed out in their
boat through the frozen ice till they got him and his faithful dogs
all safely aboard.

One man had seen him the night before just as it was getting dark, and
had spread the news down the coast, so that all the time, though he
did not know it, anxious eyes were watching him.

The only difficulty was to get a boat through the mass of broken
ice-floes and drifting ice, which covered the heaving surface of the
sea between him and the shore, but pluck and strong arms did it.

In the end his rescuers brought him safely ashore, where every man,
woman and child in the settlement was on the beach to welcome him with
cheers and--many of them--with tears of joy.

Doctor Grenfell says that during the whole of this terrible experience
he did not once feel fear. He felt that he would probably lie down and
sleep his last sleep on that ice-floe; the thought did not disturb him
very much.

At the same time, he did feel something of that regret which comes to
all people when dying, and that was the remembrance of how much time
he had wasted (even he!) when he had life and opportunities for doing
good for other people, and how he had let his opportunities slide by
without doing so much as he might have done.

So keep on doing good turns every minute whenever you can get a chance
of doing them, and then when you are face to face with death, you will
be able to say:

"Well, I did my best to do my duty. I did not waste much time on other
things."

       *       *       *       *       *

A PLUCKY BOY SCOUT.

It is not always in the field of action that Scouts can show their
heroism; sometimes it is at home or in their private life, where their
deeds are not so much seen. Here is a case:

Patrol Leader Leonard Sanderson, of the 1st Jesmond Troop, met with a
bad lift accident, and smashed his thigh. But even when in awful pain,
and in the shock of the sudden accident, he made light of it for fear
of worrying his parents. Then he was for many weeks in hospital, and
had to undergo several operations, but he was always cheerful and
patient.

Many presents of fruit came to him, but, like a true Scout he shared
them with the other patients. He made toys for the sick children, and
helped the nurses to roll bandages. He never forgot his duty as a
Scout, and proved himself a good example for others to follow.

       *       *       *       *       *

A SCOUT WHO WAS A SCAMP.

"The boy who stopped the runaway horse would never have done it if he
had not been a Scout. He was formerly a first-class young scamp and
always in some mischief."

That is what the report says of him.

But that is what happens when a lad becomes a Scout; he is no longer a
fool-boy, who goes about yelling aimlessly and making himself a
nuisance to everybody. Instead of that he smartens into a manly
fellow, ready at any moment to give a helping hand to anybody who
wants it, and without taking any reward for it, and without thinking
how poor or rich, how old or young the person may be.

I was talking once to a well-known nobleman, who told me that he broke
his leg not long ago, and when it was getting right his doctor advised
him to go and walk a little every day with two sticks to support him.

He accordingly went to Hampstead Heath, and was waddling along quite
comfortably, an inch at a time, when a patrol of Scouts came up, and
the Leader saluted and said:

"May we help you, sir? We could make a stretcher out of our coats and
staves, and carry you."

The Duke said that when he looked at the boys and thought of them
trying to carry him--for he is not a small man--he nearly laughed
aloud; but as it was he thanked them very much and told them how he
was walking purposely to get his leg into working order.

This kind intention, however, has given the Scouts a warm place in his
heart.

       *       *       *       *       *

TRACKING EXERCISE.

When I am walking along a road or path, I generally do a little
tracking every day, because it is only by constant practice that a
fellow can learn tracking or can keep his eye in when he has learnt
it. It is quite easy and simple to do, only Scouts often do not think
of doing it.

Here, for instance, is what I did one morning. There is nothing
wonderful in it, but Scouts will understand all the better that such
practice should be an everyday matter, and not merely attempted on
some great occasion. It is bound to be a failure then if it has not
been regularly gone in for before.

My practice was on an ordinary country road, dry and hard, with a
slight layer of dust in most places, up and down hill; between high
hedges; no wind (wind, you know, soon flattens out tracks in dust and
makes them look much older than they really are).

At about eight o'clock in the morning, as I passed from one field to
another, I crossed the main road at the point where it reached the top
of a hill.

I read some news on the ground, and this is what it said

"_Mrs. Sharp is ill this morning; and Johnny Milne has been to the
railway station to fetch some newspapers._"

This was how I got at it.

There were only two fresh tracks. One was of a boy walking and the
other of a bicycle.

The boy's footmarks showed a nailed boot, not big enough for a man,
walking along the road which led to the school and to the railway
station. It was Saturday, a whole holiday, so he could not be going to
school; he would therefore be going to the station.

Why to the station? Because at 7.33 the train came with the
newspapers, and there were his tracks going back again, (_They
occasionally overtrod the outgoing footprints._)

One boy in the village, Johnny Milne, was employed by the shop to
fetch the papers from the train.

So if the train were punctual he would have passed this spot on his
way back about twenty minutes later; that was at seven minutes to
eight.

[Illustration: "Mrs. Sharp is ill, and Johnny Milne has brought the
newspapers from the station."]

Now, the bicycle track showed that the machine was ridden up the hill
(_the track zig-zagged along the road, whereas if it had been
running downhill it would have gone pretty straight_), the rider
getting very tired (more _zig-zag_) near the top. There the
bicycle had stopped (_sharp turn and slither of the wheels in the
sand_), and the rider had got off to rest. It was a woman (_small
foot, no nail marks, small, sharp heel_).

She had stood a short time (_footmarks on top of each other_),
and had then remounted and ridden on. She had passed this spot between
7.15 and ten minutes to eight. (_The bicycle tracks had passed over
Johnny Milne's outgoing track of 7:15, but his returning footmarks of
ten minutes to eight overtrod the cycle tracks, so they had been made
since it passed._)

What lady would be cycling along this road at that hour of the
morning? (_A rather stout lady, too, judging from the breadth of her
foot and the fact that she had to rest on arriving at the top of the
hill_.)

The road led to a cottage where lived Mrs. Sharp, who was not very
well.

The lady must surely be Mrs. Clarke, the matronly district nurse on
her bicycle going to see Mrs. Sharp and she was still there (_as
there were no return wheel marks_).

That is how a Scout can read news from the ground, and, though this
morning's news was not important, it is always worth while to practise
reading, because some day you will probably want to pick up some
important information, and it is only everyday practice that will
enable you to do it.


FRIENDLINESS

Law 4. A SCOUT IS A FRIEND TO ALL and a Brother to every other Scout,
no matter to what social class the other belongs.

_If a Scout meets another Scout, even though a stranger to him, he
must speak to him and help him in any way that he can, either to carry
out the duty he is then doing, or by giving him food, or, so far as
possible, anything that he may be in want of.

A Scout must never be a snob.

A snob is one who looks down upon another because he's poorer, or who
is poor and resents another because he is rich. A Scout accepts the
other man as he finds him and makes the best of him--

"Kim," the boy scout, was called by the Indians "Little friend of all
the world," and that is the name which every Scout should earn for
himself._

The Arabs of the desert are some of the finest Scouts in the world,
not only because they are brave and manly fellows who can shift for
themselves, but also because they are gentlemen at heart, kind to
strangers, and men of honour.

When you come to an Arab encampment, he does not ask whether you are
rich or lowly born. Once you are within the neighbourhood of his tent,
he expects you to be his guest, and while you are with him he will do
everything that he can to protect you from your enemies.

These kindly people, who always live in tents, have a habit of using
very long tent ropes for the support of their tents, and these stretch
out some distance on to the plain around their encampment.

This is done in order that any stranger passing near will find himself
within the Arab's tent ropes--which means that he must come and be his
guest. He expects you to stay with him for about five days, during
which time he feeds you, houses you, and protects you, and he expects
no kind of payment when you depart.

One of his first acts when you come into his camp is to offer you
water. This is partly in order that you may refresh yourself, but it
is also a secret sign meaning that he will not betray you.

It is considered bad form to decline hospitality offered in this way,
and even if you are in a hurry you must suppress your own desire to
get forward in order to be courteous to the man who wishes to be your
host.

The Arabs have a saying, "None but the base and ungrateful refuse
generosity"; but this does not mean that he will take a reward for
being kind to you. To offer a tip is to insult him, and I hope that
Boy Scouts will take it in the same light.

If you pitch your tent near that of an Arab, and become good friends
with him, he will alter his tent-pegs so that they come within the
line of your own and the tent ropes cross each other.

This again is a secret sign which means that he and those who live in
his tent are for ever friends of you and any who are living with you.

Arabs are honourable fellows, and may be trusted to stick to such
understanding.

One point in which an Arab shows himself more of a gentleman than,
say, the Germans in South-west Africa, is that he will never poison
wells, even though he knows his enemy may use them.

True comradeship does not take any account of what the other fellow's
position in life may be.

I remember that when I took a troop of Boy Scouts to Canada, they all
worked in pairs during the whole of the trip, and one of these pairs
consisted of two boys who were respectively the son of an Earl and the
son of a sergeant in an infantry regiment. Yet, although they had been
brought up on totally different lines, they were boys, they were
Scouts, they were not snobs, and they were the best of pals.

And we see very much the same thing at the Front to-day, where, in the
ranks of every battalion, are to be found men of every class and
standing--

  "Cook's son, duke's son, son of a belted earl!"

And so, too, between officers and men there is a splendid feeling of
comradeship, each working for the other so far as he possibly can. And
that is a result that the Germans cannot possibly arrive at, for the
one reason that they are not gentlemen.

I hope to see this spirit kept up and strengthened by the Scouts, and
especially that rule which makes a Scout a friend to every other
Scout, no matter what his class, creed, or country may be. I am
certain that if this rule is carried out in full it will be a very
great help after the war towards bringing real peace between the
different nations, since the Boy Scouts in each will be true friends
and comrades to those in the others.

       *       *       *       *       *

DOCTORING THE NATIVES.

A Scout ought to know a little about most injuries and diseases, and
to be able to treat them. In uncivilised countries the natives all
look on a white man as a born doctor, and they bring you cases of
every kind to deal with.

When I was in Kashmir, a lad was brought to me who had just fallen
down a steep bank. He was in great pain, and his friends and relatives
were already considering him as good as dead. On examination, I found
no bones broken, but his right shoulder out of joint at the socket. So
I told them to lay him flat on his back, and I began to take off my
right shoe, or rather the grass sandal that I was wearing.

Some of the bystanders, seeing me do this, said: "Oh! he is going to
pray," and immediately began unfastening my other sandal for me.

You see, these people take off their shoes when they go into church or
to pray, just as we take off our hats. But I wasn't going to pray, and
only took my right sandal off.

Then I sat down alongside the patient, facing towards his head, my
right leg against his right side, so that my heel came into the armpit
of the injured shoulder, I got one of his friends to sit on the other
side of him to hold him down; then catching tight hold of his wrist
with both hands, I gave a long, steady, strong pull at his arm, using
my heel as a lever, till the shoulder suddenly clicked into its place
again. Such a nice feeling to me, just as if I had hooked a salmon!

Then he fainted.

His mother howled? and said I had made a nice mess of the job, and had
killed him. But I grinned and put on my sandal, and told her that was
all part of the show, and that I would now bring him to life quite
sound and well, which I proceeded to do by sprinkling a little water
over his face. He gradually came to his senses, and then found that
his arm was practically all right.

His own astonishment and theirs was very great, and within half an
hour my tent was full of fruit and chickens and eggs as
thank-offerings.

But during the next three days all the sick, the maimed, and the blind
were brought in from the country round for me to cure. You never saw
such a lot. Men, women, and children with every conceivable ailment,
including bad eyes, which I treated by bathing with warm weak tea. One
poor chap had had half his face bitten off by a bear, losing his eye
and the whole of his cheek, so that all his teeth were showing in a
horrible grin--the more horrible because the wound had never been
properly dressed.

Then one enormously fat man asked me to do something for him. Now,
what would you have done in such a case? I only had some lead lotion,
some disinfectant, and a few mustard poultice leaves. So I gave him
one of these mustard leaves, and told him if that wouldn't cure him I
didn't know what would, and in saying that I was speaking the exact
truth. I told him to wet it and put it on his "chest" when he went to
bed.

Next day he came with tears of gratitude and said I had done more for
him in one night than all the doctors had done for him in years. He
felt that he was already growing thinner.

I moved my camp twenty miles off that day, as I thought it better to
get away while I had such a good reputation, and, besides, they were
beginning to bring in patients from all over the district, and I had
nothing to cure them with.

But that is the kind of thing you may expect when you are travelling,
and you should learn while you can how to deal with the usual
ailments, so that you can be of some help to the poor creatures when
you come across them.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE SWASTIKA.

All the nations of the world have customs of their own, which bear a
curious resemblance to each other. For instance, when a Zulu has to
undertake the dangerous job of crawling up to a lion, he likes to
dress himself in his war-paint before beginning.

That same sort of idea is to be found in other parts of the world.
Even in our own country, not one hundred years ago, our sailors,
before going into action with an enemy, always liked to wash and shave
themselves, tie their pigtails nattily, and put on their best
neckerchiefs. And even now in Canada the Cree Indians, when they are
hunting a bear, put on their best clothes and decorate themselves
before tackling the danger.

[Illustration: THE "SWASTIKA."]

So you see we are all alike in some ways in different parts of the
world. If you sneeze in Scotland people say: "God bless you." If you
sneeze in Masailand (British East-Africa) a native will say: "Good
health to you!"

There are hundreds of these little customs which are used by people in
different corners of the earth who have never had anything to do with
each other.

But perhaps the most wonderful of all is the sign of the "Swastika,"
which we Scouts use as our "Badge of Brotherhood."

Nobody knows the exact history of where it came from, or what it
means; but it is found in almost every part of the world, and is very,
very old.

Rudyard Kipling believes it was made by a man in ancient days, who put
two twigs crossed on the ground and trod them down into the mud so as
to leave a mark to act as a guide to others, like a Scout's
ground-mark.

But another story is this:

Where the Atlantic Ocean now is, people in old days believed that
there was a great land called Atlantis, which has since sunk under the
sea.

This land was watered by four great rivers, which ran across the whole
in different directions--north, south, east, and west. This cross is
meant for the four rivers, and is the crest of the Continent of
Atlantis.

But whatever the meaning of it was, the Swastika Cross is found in all
parts of the world as an ancient mark.

Thus, in Norway it appears on the sword-scabbard of the ancient
Norsemen as a sign to bring good luck; also in Iceland, Germany, and
France on old pottery.

In the south it is found in West Africa, in Greece, and Egypt.

In the west it is found in America, in Arizona, and Mexico, and South
America.

And in the east in India, Tibet, Japan, China, and Persia.

Thus, it stands for Europe, Asia, Africa, and America--all the world;
and it is, in each of them, considered to be a sign of friendliness
and good wishes.

That is how we come to use it in the Scouts, whose business is to do
good turns and to help other people wherever we may be.

When, therefore, we want to show particular goodwill to anyone,
especially those who have done us a good turn, we give to them a
"Swastika," or "Badge of Brotherhood," to wear. This makes them
members of the brotherhood of Scouts, although they are not actual
Scouts themselves; and when they show their badge to a Scout he will
do all he can to help them in whatever part of the world they may be.

       *       *       *       *       *

OUR BUTTONHOLE BADGE.

I expect most Scouts have found, like I have done, that wherever you
go in the streets, or in a strange town, or far out in the country,
you come across a boy wearing a buttonhole badge. As you get nearer
you see that it is the well-known three-pointed badge of the Scouts.

You make the salute sign, shake hands with left hands, and there you
are, in company with a friend and brother, who a minute before was a
total stranger to you.

       *       *       *       *       *

CHILIAN SCOUTS.

Our World-roving Commissioner--for we have one who travels about to
all countries now--was once in Chile, which, as you know, is a long,
narrow strip of country in South America, three thousand miles long,
and not one hundred miles wide, packed in between the Andes Mountains
and the Pacific Ocean.

The Boy Scouts of Chile are among the best in the world. They have
done a lot of tramping-camps and other expeditions. Finally, their
Government arranged a cruise for them on board a man-of-war, and they
lived for over a week on the ship, about two hundred of them, learning
swimming, boating, navigation, engine-room work; in fact, all the
duties of Sea Scouts.

These boys all had to pay their messing and other expenses, so it was
only the richer ones that were able to go; but since then they have
arranged to go another cruise, and each of the richer ones is going to
take a poorer Scout with him as his guest, and will pay his expenses
for him.

That's what I like to see, and it tells me more than any other reports
that the Chilian Scouts have got the right spirit in them.

A lad from Brixham, in Devonshire, went out to take up some work in
Chile. He was a Boy Scout, and continued while away to wear his
buttonhole badge. One day, when he was out in the back parts of that
out-of-the-way country, a Chilian boy came up to him, gave the Scout
salute, and pointing to his badge, said:

"You Boy Scout? Me Scout too!" and he took him home to tea, and looked
after him, and thus they became good friends.

So you see the use of being a Scout and of wearing your badge.

Even in everyday life at home it is also a good thing to do, because
you may often have a chance of doing a good turn to a stranger Boy
Scout if he could only recognise that you were a scout.

I suppose there is not a day passes without my coming across a Scout,
in plain clothes, wearing his buttonhole badge and so I am able to
spot him and to have a chat with him. Whereas, if he had not had his
badge on, I should probably never have noticed him.

Also, it is a sign to outsiders. People have got to know now how
useful the Scouts are, and they are often anxious to get hold of one
to help them in some difficulty. Well, if they see a boy coming along
with the badge on, they know that he is a Scout, though not in
uniform, and they are able to ask him to do them the good turn.

So wear your buttonhole badge for the sake of other people.


POLITENESS

LAW 5. A SCOUT IS COURTEOUS.

_A Scout should be polite to all--but especially to women and
children, old people and invalids, cripples, etc. And he must not take
any reward for being helpful or courteous._

Courteousness is much the same sort of thing as Chivalry, which is
closely allied to Honour. Both were practised in the old days by the
Knight's, who went about risking their lives in order to defend and
help the weaker people, women and children, against bullies and
marauders.

Why did they do this?

It did not bring them money, for it would be a disgrace to a Knight to
accept any reward for doing a good turn. It only brought them danger
of wounds or death. It was an adventure. They were good sportsmen and
manly fellows. Their conscience told them that it was right for the
strong and plucky man to protect those who were weaker than himself.
They were not obliged to do it by the law of the land, but there was a
stronger law which appealed to them--and that was their own sense of
Honour which led them to be chivalrous men.

Honour was the _spirit_ that moved them;

Chivalry was the putting into practice what their Honour bade them do.

The ordinary boy has no chivalry--at least, he has got it all right
under the surface, only he is in the silly-ass stage, and he forgets
it. If he sees a poor hunchback or a cripple he will often laugh or
stare at him. He forgets that the other is an unfortunate, and has had
the bad luck to be born that way.

A healthy boy on seeing a deformed person ought to thank God that he
is himself sound in body and able to enjoy life, and he should do what
he can to make things pleasant for his less fortunate brother.

That, is what a Scout would do, because he is chivalrous.

       *       *       *       *       *

KNIGHT'S OATH ON INVESTITURE

A.D. 506.

Sir, you that desire to receive the Order of Knighthood, swear, before
God, and by this Holy Book, that you shall not fight against the King,
who now bestoweth the Order of Knighthood upon you; you shall also
swear with all your force and power to maintain and defend all ladies,
gentlewomen, widows, orphans, and distressed women; and you shall shun
no adventure of your person in any way or war wherein you shall happen
to be.

Fourteen hundred years ago the old Knights of Britain used to be sworn
to do their duty in these words.

Their oath was much the same as the promise which the "young Knights"
of the present time make when they become Boy Scouts, for they promise
to serve God and the King, and to help others, especially women and
children, and not to think of their own trouble or risk so long as
they do a good turn to others needing help.

The Knights, being mounted men, were called the "Chivalry," the old
word for "Cavalry"--from the Latin "_cavallus_" and the French
"_cheval_," meaning a horse.

Then any noble act done by the Knights was said to be "Chivahous" or
Knight-like.

So the word "chivalry" now means doing things which the Knights of old
did.

It is chivalry to do one's duty to God and the King, to help women and
children, and all people in distress; and to be plucky and brave in
carrying out one's duty.

That is why Boy Scouts are frequently being described in the papers as
"chivalrous." I hope they will go on and continue to deserve the
title.

One great step in "Courteousness" is to be grateful when anybody does
you a "good turn," and to tell them you are grateful by saying "Thank
you." It is a little thing to do, but it is a great thing to the
person who has done the kindness to feel that it was not thrown away.

       *       *       *       *       *

A DIRTY GENTLEMAN.

A bus drove by under my window. It was crowded with people, inside and
out. On the outside every seat was filled, so much so that one woman
had to stand. I saw men look round at her, one apparently annoyed
because she accidentally jostled his newspaper, but none offered to
give her his seat.

They were most of them well-to-do men, such as go by the name of
gentlemen so far as their dress and appearance went but when it came
to the true test of a gentleman, that is, the feeling of chivalry and
politeness to women, the only gentleman among them was a working boy,
a lad of about fifteen, in dirty clothes, with dirty hands and face.

When he saw a woman standing he at once left his seat and beckoned her
into it. I hope that some of his so-called betters had the good sense
to feel ashamed at being taught manners by a working boy. Perhaps he
was a Scout. At any rate, he acted as a Scout would in the same
circumstances.

       *       *       *       *       *

WHAT IS A GENTLEMAN?

Many people are inclined to think that the word "gentleman" means a
man who was born rich, and that a boy brought up at expensive schools
and colleges must therefore be a gentleman when he has grown up. But
this does not always follow.

A fellow who is lucky enough to have been brought up in that way has
certainly better chances of being a gentleman than many a poor boy
has; but at the same time a poor boy can be just as good a gentleman
as a rich one.

A gentleman is what the word says; he is a man, but a gentle man, not
a rough, bullying, coarse customer, but a fellow who, though big and
strong, can be kind and chivalrous and helpful to other people.

As good a sample as any of a "gentleman" is the London policeman. He
is at all times courteous and helpful to others, even to the extent of
being ready to risk his life at any moment to save people in cases of
accidents, or to protect them against rough handling, and he treats
rich and poor, old and young, with equal attention and patience, and
good humour.

       *       *       *       *       *

SCOUTS OF THE DESERT.

Several years ago I spent, some time with Arabs in North Africa, in
Tunisia and Algeria, and I found them first-rate fellows, They were
very fond of any kind of adventurous sport, and were hospitable and
courteous.

Numbers of them used to come out with their dogs to help me to find
game, and after a long day's beating in the thorn bush and high grass,
when we finished hunting, they used to shake hands and go off home,
quite happy if I had had a good day, and not expecting or seeking for
a tip or a reward as is so generally the case, I am sorry to say, in
England. Men here seem to think that they ought to be paid for every
blessed thing they do.

The Arab chiefs, too, were kindly hosts, they gave me the best of
food, generally a sort of Irish stew of chickens and rice, and made me
comfortable in their own tents at night under their blankets.

They are very clean people, very brave, very courteous and very
honourable. So they are true Scouts of the Desert. They have a number
of little camp customs which Scouts ought to know--and many of them
are like those practised by scouts.

Arabs are always very strict in saluting each other.

The custom of saluting came, as you know, from the old times, when
everybody carried weapons, and the act of raising the right hand on
meeting another man was meant to show that you had not got a weapon in
that hand, and were therefore a friend.

It is exactly the same to this day with the Zulus and other South
African tribes, who carry clubs and assegais; on meeting each other
they pass their weapons into the left hand, and raise their right to
show that it is empty, and that therefore they don't mean to fight
you.

So it is, too, with the Arabs.

If a horseman meets a man on foot, the horseman salutes first, because
he is in the more powerful position, and it is only fair that the man
on foot should therefore have his weapon ready till he knows that the
mounted man is friendly.

In the same way, if a man is sitting down and another walks up to him,
the man who is walking is in the better position for attacking, so he
salutes first to show that he is friendly.

It is very bad form to pitch your tent close to the water supply of
the camp, because it looks as if you were taking possession of the
spring, and that anyone else wanting to use it would have to get your
permission or be liable to be attacked by you when getting his water.
So an Arab always pitches his tent at some little distance away from
the spring or well, in order to show that it is free to all.

When an Arab comes to a strange camp he rides up to the largest tent
and dismounts., and walks straight to the fire around which the
inhabitants are sitting. He then says in a loud voice:

"Peace be with you."

All those sitting round the fire get up and reply:

"And with you, peace."


KINDNESS TO ANIMALS

Law 6. A SCOUT IS A FRIEND TO ANIMALS.

_He should save them, so far as possible, from pain, and should not
kill any animal unnecessarily, even if it is only a fly, for it is one
of God's creatures. Killing an animal for food, or an animal which is
harmful, is allowable.

It is a curious thing that animals and children both seem to recognise
a good man when they meet him, and are at once friendly with him; and
I have always found that the bravest men are in their turn kind to
them.

You must have noticed how our soldiers at the Front and our sailors in
the Fleet all seem to have their pet animals and mascots, and when I
was in France I noticed on many occasions our men playing with the
little French children among their ruined homes close up to the firing
line.

They were all the best of friends: although they knew scarcely a word
of each other's language.

In the same way as a Knight or a Boy Scout is chivalrous to weaker
folk, so he is chivalrous also to animals.

Animals are weaker folk than ourselves in the matter of mind and
understanding, but they can be very affectionate and faithful where
they have learnt that the human being, though strong _enough to_
hurt, them, is kind and gentle. They are quick to show that they
appreciate such kindness. You know how your own dog half-curls himself
round Wagging his tail and grinning with pleasure when he sees you;
and also how your horse nuzzles you all over to find the sugar that he
knows you are going to give him.

So give animals all the kindness you can, and make their lives happy.

Many boys are inclined to be cruel simply because they don't
think--they are not yet manly enough--they are, as I said before, in
the silly-ass stage.

But a Scout who is manly and chivalrous towards people will at all
times be the same towards animals. It is wonderful what pleasure you
can get out of it in return, whether you train your dog to obey your
slightest sign, or whether you tame a robin to be your friend.

The other day I came across a proprietor of a garage who showed
himself to be a good and kindly man because he had supplied the Scout
troop of the town with a loft to use as a club-room. But he proved to
me that he was a good man by taking me into his sitting-room and
showing me his tame canary, which did every kind of trick at his
command, and sang to him, answered his whistle, and came at his call
and kissed him.

Apart from the interest of training an animal in confinement, there is
all the fun and adventure to be got out of stalking and watching
animals and birds in the wild and learning their ways and customs. The
more you do this, and the more you understand about how they are made
and how they do their various works, the better you will understand
the wonders of Nature and of the Creator.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE RIGHT WAY TO GO BIRDS'-NESTING.

A man who studies birds is called an ornithologist. Mark Twain, the
amusing yet kind-hearted American writer, says:

"There are fellows who write books about birds and love them so much
that they'll go hungry and tired to find a new kind of bird--and kill
it.

"They are called 'ornithologers.'

"I could have been an 'ornithologer' myself, because I always loved
birds and creatures. And I started out to learn how to be one. I saw a
bird sitting on a dead limb of a high tree, singing away with his head
tilted back and his mouth open--and, before I thought, I fired my gun
at him; his song stopped all suddenly, and he fell from the branch,
limp like a rag, and I ran and picked him up--and he was dead. His
body was warm in my hand, and his head rolled about this way and that,
like as if his neck was broke, and there was a white skin over his
eyes, and one drop of red blood sparkled on the side of his
head-and-laws! I couldn't see nothing for the tears."

"I haven't ever murdered no creature since then that warn't doing me
no harm--and I ain't agoing to neither."

A good Scout is generally a good "ornithologer," as Mark Twain calls
him. That is to say, he likes stalking birds and watching all that
they do. He discovers, by watching them, where and how they build
their nests.

He does not, like the ordinary boy, want to go and rob them of their
eggs, but he likes to watch how they hatch out their young and teach
them to feed themselves and to fly. He gets to know every species of
bird by its call and by its way of flying; and he knows which birds
remain all the year round and which only come at certain seasons; and
what kind of food they like best, and how they change their plumage,
what sort of nests they build, where they build them, and what the
eggs are like.

A good many birds are almost dying out in Great Britain, because so
many boys bag all their eggs when they find their nests.

Birds'-nesting is very like big-game shooting--you look out in places
that, as a hunter, you know are likely haunts of the birds you want;
you watch the birds fly in and out and you find the nest. But you do
not then go and destroy the nest and take all the eggs. If you are
actually a collector, take one egg and leave the rest, and, above all,
don't pull the nest about, otherwise the parent birds will desert it,
and all those eggs, which might have developed into jolly young birds
will be wasted.

Far better than taking the eggs is to take a photograph, or to make a
sketch of the hen sitting on her nest, or to make a collection of
pictures of the different kinds of nests built by the different kinds
of birds.

Aberdeen, in Scotland, is supposed to be specially well off for
skylarks for the following reason:

A few years ago there came a very severe gale and snow-storm late in
March, and all the high ground inland was so buried under snow and ice
that the birds were all driven to the Lower land near the coast. The
fields by the seashore were covered with them.

Numbers of people went out to catch them with birdlime, nets, snares,
and guns. Large numbers were taken alive to be 'sent to market' in
London and other towns.

One gentleman found a man selling a big cage full of them. They were
crowded up to a fearful extent, and all fluttering with terror at
their imprisonment, struggling over each other in their frantic desire
to escape. He felt so sorry for them that he bought the whole lot, and
took them to his warehouse, where he was able to give them plenty of
room and food and water.

Then he offered to buy all the larks that were being captured for the
market at market prices. In this way he received over a thousand; and
these he put in a big room, where they had comparative freedom and
plenty of food. It is said that the noise of their singing in the
morning was almost deafening, and crowds of birds used to gather over
the house to hear them.

At last the bad weather passed off, the sun shone out again, and the
fields became green and bright, and then the kind man who had housed
the birds opened the windows of the room and all the birds flew out in
a happy crowd, chirping and singing as they mounted into the bright,
warm air, or fluttered off to the adjoining fields and woods. And
there they built their nests and hatched out their young, so that
to-day the song of the lark is to be heard everywhere round Aberdeen.

       *       *       *       *       *

BIRDS' NESTS.

One January I went "bird's-nesting" with a party of Scout-masters. It
seems an odd time of year to do that; but we really went to see how
they manage to persuade birds to come and make their nests in the Bird
Sanctuary, near Brentford, just outside London.

We went into the big wood there, and soon found ourselves in the
presence of birds, for everywhere one could hear the piping, trilling,
and whistling of unseen warblers, and every now and then one of them
would flit across our path.

Then, on the side of almost every tree, we noticed a small box,
entirely closed up except for a small hole in the front. These were
the "nesting-boxes," and every spring the birds come and make their
nests in these boxes, and bring up their families. The consequence is
that the place is now alive with singing birds.

The son of Mr. Mark Webb, the manager of the Sanctuary, is in his
teens, but he knows everything about the birds that come there and
their ways, and he also knows all the different kinds of plants and
trees that grow in the wood. He is a very complete stalker-Scout, and
evidently gets a lot of fun and satisfaction out of watching the birds
and their doings.

Well, almost any Scout can do the same, and my advice to you is to
make a nesting-box or two as soon as you can, and put them up on
trees. Then, at the proper time, you may have the satisfaction of
seeing some rare kind of bird coming to your box and raising a family
there.

The box should be eight to ten inches high, by six wide and deep, and
the top preferably sloping to run any rain off.

[Illustration: A NESTING-BOX FOR BIRDS.]

The door is a small round or pear-shaped hole near the top of the box,
so that there is plenty of room for the nest below it.

A little ledge for the birds, and especially the young ones, to rest
upon, is a good thing to have on the front of the box. If possible,
paint your box roughly with dabs of green and brown to make it
match the tree stem and leaves, and put on it the name of your
patrol and troop if you like.

Then fix it to a tree trunk about six feet above the ground, where it
is safe from rats or snakes, and on the side of the tree farthest from
the path, if there be one near, so that the birds will not be frightened
 by passers-by. If it is on the sunny side, so much the better.

Birds will build in almost anything which offers them safety
and shelter; an old kettle, for instance, or an old tin pot is a
favourite site for a nest. If you scatter a few crumbs or grains
of corn about your box every day at first, the birds will
become accustomed to it, and will soon adopt it as their home.

Any Scout who has not a tree of his own to hang his box on can
probably get leave to put it up, if he asks nicely, in some
neighbour's wood or garden, or in a park, and can then visit it from
time to time to see how it is getting on.

Most nesting-boxes have their roof, or front, on hinges, or made so
that it can slide off; but it does not do to examine the nest when
once it is made, or the old birds will desert it.

       *       *       *       *       *

BIRD MIGRATION.

The movements of birds as they change their quarters still puzzle the
naturalists.

It is marvellous how they seem to like travelling, and no one can
understand why they take certain paths through the air when they are
doing it.

For instance, the black pool warbler, in America, spends its summer in
Alaska, and goes down to South America for the winter. It takes the
straightest course it can from Alaska to Brazil, flying over land and
sea--and a wide sea, too, is the Gulf of Mexico. But the cliff
swallow, which also spends the winter in Brazil and the summer in
North Canada, takes quite a different route, and goes an extra 2000
miles in order to avoid going over the sea, and follows the land all
round by Panama, Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala, Mexico, and so
through the United States.

The distances which birds cover when "migrating" are enormous. Some
American plovers are known to travel for 8000 miles, one part of the
journey being 2500 miles without resting as they pass over the sea.

The arctic tern goes even farther, it nests near the North Pole, and
then makes its way down to near the South Pole, a journey of 11,000
miles.

Perhaps you wonder how we know that the birds travel these long
distances. Well, a good many naturalists and stalkers catch birds when
young or tired and mark them by putting a small ring round their leg
with a number on it. Then other naturalists keep a look out in other
parts of the world, and when they kill or find a bird with such a
number on it they report it.

Aberdeen University marked a large number of birds in this way--with a
tiny aluminium ring round the bird's leg, with the words "Aberdeen
University" and a number on it.

A wild duck which they had marked in Scotland was caught in a net the
same year in Holland.

Of five lapwings marked in Aberdeenshire, four were shot in Ireland
the same year, and one in Portugal, 1250 miles away. A song-thrush was
also shot in Portugal, which had been marked in Scotland the same
year.

A young guillemot was taken from its nest in Aberdeenshire and marked,
and less than five months afterwards it was shot in Sweden.

So, you see, it is interesting to watch in this way what the birds do
in the travelling line.

Scouts can help in keeping a look out, and if ever they capture or
hear of a bird marked with a ring, they should report it to Professor
A. Thomson, The University, Aberdeen. They should state the number on
the ring, the kind of bird, where found, and the date on which it was
found.

       *       *       *       *       *

STUDYING ANIMALS.

The boar is certainly the bravest of all animals: he is the real "King
of the Jungle," and the other animals all know it. If you watch a
drinking-pool in the jungle at night, you will see the animals that
come to it all creeping down nervously, looking out in every direction
for hidden enemies. But when the boar comes he simply swaggers down,
with his great head and shiny tusks swinging from side to side; he
cares for nobody, but everybody cares for him; even a tiger drinking
at the pool will give a snarl and sneak quickly out of sight.

I have often lain out on moonlight nights to watch the animals,
especially wild boars, in the jungle, and it is just as good fun as
merely going after them to kill them.

And I have caught and kept a young wild boar and a young panther, and
found them most amusing and interesting little beggars. The boar used
to live in my garden, and he never became really tame, though I got
him as a baby.

He would come to me when I called him--but very warily; he would never
come to a stranger, and a native he would "go for," and try to cut him
with his little tusks.

He used to practise the use of his tusks while turning at full speed
round an old tree stump in the garden, and he would gallop at this and
round it in a figure of eight continuously for over five minutes at a
time, and then fling himself down on his side, panting with his
exertions.

My panther was also a beautiful and delightfully playful beast, and
used to go about with me like a dog; but he was very uncertain in his
dealings with strangers.

I think one gets to know more about animals and to understand them
better by keeping them as pets first, and then going and watching them
in their wild, natural life.

But before going to study big game in the jungles, everybody must
study all animals, wild and tame, at home. It would be a very good
thing if every Scout kept some kind of animal, such as a pony or a
dog, birds or rabbits, or even live butterflies.

Every Boy Scout ought to know all about the tame animals which he sees
every day. You ought to know all about grooming feeding, and watering
a horse, about putting him into harness or taking him out of harness,
and putting him in the stable, and know when he is going lame and
should not therefore be worked.

       *       *       *       *       *

CHIVALRY TO A SHEEP

A lady was walking on the Sussex Downs with her old father, who was an
invalid. Suddenly, she saw below her a number of sheep penned in, as
they often are, for the night. Two large dogs had got among them, and
the bodies of two dead sheep told of the mischief already done, while
the other frightened sheep were huddled together, waiting for their
turn to be attacked.

The lady did not know what to do; she did not like to leave her
invalid father alone while she went down, and it was far too steep a
descent for the latter to attempt.

Just then, round the corner came five Scouts, quite small, the eldest
being only thirteen years old. They soon took in the situation and
advanced to the fray. When the dogs saw them, they left the sheep and
rushed, barking, at them, and the Scouts fled. But only for a minute!

A council of war was held, and again they advanced, poles in hand, and
this time succeeded in driving off the dogs. The last the lady saw was
the plucky little patrol kneeling, with their coats off, round a poor
sheep on the ground. After that, she left, feeling the sheep was in
good hands.

In a few moments the sheep revived, its temples were laved with water,
some of which it also drank and enjoyed. Still, it was beyond standing
alone, and what was to be done next?

A stretcher was made with the poles and coats, and then came the
difficulty of getting the heavy body on to the stretcher. At last this
difficulty was overcome, and the procession started over the rough
field to the farm, two miles off.

At last the farm was reached, and the Scouts, after helping the farmer
render further, and perhaps more useful, first-aid, started on their
journey homeward.

This is an absolutely true story. What would have happened twenty
years ago had five town boys seen those dogs at work destroying sheep?

They might perhaps have run away, possibly to seek help, but I am none
too sure that they would not have looked on and rather enjoyed it,
merely thinking what a good story they would have to tell their
comrades on their return home.

Scouting has not only taught boys what to do in an emergency, but it
has taught, and is teaching, our small boys the meaning of love and
kindness to other human beings and also to animals.

       *       *       *       *       *

LORD NELSON AT A BULL FIGHT.

The following is what Lord Nelson wrote about a bull fight which he
went to see in Spain:

"The amphitheatre will hold 16,000 people, and some 12,000 were
present. Ten bulls were selected, and one brought out at a time. Three
cavaliers on horseback and foot men with flags were the combatants. We
had what is called a fine 'feast,' for five horses were killed and two
men very much hurt; had they been killed it would have been quite
complete.

"We felt for the bulls and the horses, and I own it would not have
displeased me to have seen some of the dons (Spaniards) tossed by the
enraged animals.

"How women can even sit out, much less applaud, such sights is
astonishing. It even turned us sick, and we could hardly go through
it; the dead, mangled horses and the bulls covered with blood were too
much. We have seen one bull feast, and agree that nothing shall ever
tempt us to see another-"

This is what Nelson, the hero of many a grimly fought battle, has
written, and it shows how even a man accustomed to the sight of blood
and death can be horrified and disgusted at it when it is done as a
form of sport and at the cost of pain to dumb animals.

Scouts should always remember this in dealing with animals, and have
the same feeling which that prince of sea scouts, Nelson, had.

       *       *       *       *       *

A GOOD YOUNG SCOUT.

I met a young Patrol-leader going along in a hurry, evidently on duty.
So I asked him where he was off to, and he replied that he was going
to call his patrol together--there are only three in it at
present--and to get three more Tenderfoots to join it at once, as they
had serious work on hand.

I then found out from his father that the serious work was this: The
patrol had come across a lot of boys torturing some frogs by blowing
them out with straws. The Scouts were not strong enough to stop them,
but they went to the police constable, and asked if they might take
the law into their own hands and "go for" these boys.

The policeman consented, and now they were going to raise their patrol
to full strength in order to tackle the torturers, and put a stop to
the cruelty to the frogs.

I heard afterwards that they were successful.


OBEDIENCE

Law 7. A SCOUT OBEYS ORDERS of his parents, Patrol-leader, or
Scoutmaster without question.

Even _if he gets an order which he does not like, a Scout must
do_ AS _soldiers_ AND SAILORS DO, _or_ AS _he would do
if he got it _FROM _his_ CAPTAIN _in a football match--he
must carry it out all the same, because it is his duty; after he has
done it he can come and state any reasons against it: but he must
carry out the order at once. That is discipline_.

       *       *       *       *       *

PLAY THE GAME.

Suppose you were playing outside forward in a football match, and you
were on the ball with a good opening for a run before you, when you
suddenly heard your captain shout "Centre!" What would you do? Go on
with the ball, or pass it to a centre player?

You would, of course, obey the captain's order and pass it.

Why?

Because you know that if every fellow played the game for his own fun
and glory, his side would never win--the team would be all over the
place.

To prevent this, each player has got his certain allotted place in the
field, and the captain, who is best placed for seeing how the game is
going on, is able to give directions that will help his side to win.

Of course, the success depends on every player doing his best to carry
out his captain's orders efficiently and well.

It is not only in football or hockey that this system brings success,
but in every game of life.

We see it just now on a very big scale at the Front--in the great game
of war--where men obey their captains' orders not only when it is
inconvenient to them to do so, but often when it means danger and
death to them. But in doing it they well know that, though they are
sacrificing themselves, they are helping their side to win; and that
is the right, spirit in which to play the game of life.

Therefore, even in small things, get yourself into the habit, of
obeying orders whether or not you like doing it.

If you can thus make a practice of it in small everyday matters like
obeying your parents at home, or your Patrol-leader when scouting,
obedience will come quite natural to you in the bigger duties of life,
and you will then be looked upon by both your comrades and your
officers as a really valuable man--one who can be trusted to play in
his place and to play the game in obedience to the rules and to his
captain, not for his own glorification but in order that his side may
win.

       *       *       *       *       *

BRITISH DISCIPLINE.

When Gibraltar was being besieged a hundred and thirty years ago by
the French and Spaniards on land and sea, the British Troops holding
the place stuck it out valiantly for three long years, and were in the
end relieved by the Fleet from home. But though there were many who
wanted to give in and were dead sick of the whole thing, General
Elliott, the commander of the garrison, showed such dogged
determination, and insisted on such strict discipline, that he held
the garrison together.

His measures for defence were so successful that every man realised
that the real road to safety and success was strict obedience to his
orders. In fact, it was a case where obedience won the day. And they
loved and admired the old general, too, for his pluck, his humanity,
and his sense of humour.

On one occasion a man ventured to disobey an order that was given to
him, and when he was brought before the commander the General said
that if a man could disobey an order at such a critical time he could
not be in his right mind, he must be mad. Therefore he ordered that
the usual treatment accorded to a lunatic should be applied to the
offender. His head was to be shaved, he was to be blistered and bled,
and kept in a padded cell on a light diet of bread and water--and also
be prayed for in church.

Well, the General was quite right. If a man cannot obey orders when
there is danger to all he must be mad. But it is difficult for a man
to be obedient at such a time if he has never learnt to be obedient in
ordinary times, and that is why discipline is so strongly kept up in
both the Army and Navy in peace time.

A man is taught to obey even the smallest order most carefully and
without hesitation, until it becomes such a habit with him that when
an order is given him, a big or dangerous one, he carries it out, at
once without any question. And, when everybody can be trusted to obey
orders, it is an easy thing for the commander to manoeuvre his troops
and conduct the battle with some chance of success.

You remember the story which I told you in _Scouting for Boys_
about the ship _Birkenhead_, on board of which discipline and
obedience were so splendidly shown by the soldiers.

The ship was carrying about 630 soldiers, with their families, and 130
seamen. Near the Cape of Good Hope one night she ran on to some rocks,
and began to break up. The soldiers were at once paraded on deck
half-dressed as they were, just out of their hammocks.

Some were told off to get out the boats and to put the women and
children into them, and others were told off to get the horses up out
of the hold, and to lower them overboard into the sea, in order that
they might have a chance of swimming ashore.

When this had all been done, it was found that there were not enough
boats to take everybody, and so the men were ordered to remain in
their ranks on the deck, while the women and children, with a few men
to row them, moved off from the sinking ship.

The boats had not gone far when the ship broke into half and began to
go down. The captain shouted to the men to jump overboard and save
themselves, but the Colonel, Colonel Seaton, interrupting the captain
ordered the men to stand where they were, and to keep their ranks, for
he saw that if they swam to the boats and tried to get in they would
probably sink them too.

So the men kept their ranks, and as the ship rolled over and sank,
they gave a cheer and went down with her.

Out of the whole 760 on board only 192 were saved, but even these
would probably have been lost had it not been for the discipline and
self-sacrifice of the others in obeying the order to keep their ranks
and not to try to get into the boats.

So you see the value of discipline in a difficult crisis or moment of
danger.

The great Duke of Wellington, who was Commander-in-Chief of the
British Army, when describing this heroic act on the _Birkenhead_,
praised very highly the discipline of the men--he did not praise their
bravery. It was brave of them, but he considered that all Britons are
naturally brave--he expected bravery of them. But discipline is another
thing; it has to be learnt.

In battle or in a big danger a brave man may be very useful, but if he
does pretty much as he pleases he is not half so valuable as the man
who, besides being brave, has also learnt, to obey every order at
once.

Watch firemen at work. They are all brave enough; they would all like
to be at the top of the ladder fighting the flames, but their
discipline makes them work at their different jobs, each playing in
his place, obeying orders, and doing his share in order that the fire
may be put out, not that he should win special glory or excitement for
himself.

Even in the streets there is discipline. The policeman regulates the
traffic so that all vehicles moving in one direction keep to one side
of the road, and thus allow the traffic in the opposite direction to
keep moving along the other side. But if one 'bus-driver did not feel
inclined to obey orders, but dashed about in his own way, not caring
to which side of the road he went so long as he went ahead, there
would be accidents and delay in no time, and the whole traffic would
be upset. If you are in business with a large number of others, it is
useful for the good of the whole that you obey the orders which you
receive from those who are in authority over you. If the seniors can
be sure that their assistants will carry out their orders, they can
carry on the business properly. Discipline is necessary everywhere,
but the thing is to learn while you are young to carry it out in small
things, so that you would be able to do so when it comes to your turn
to do it in a great difficulty or danger. In order to do this you have
to be able to command yourself in the first place.

The soldier does not go into a battle because he likes it. It is a
dangerous place, and he feels inclined to run away; but he commands
himself, and says "I must go whether I like it or not, because it is
my duty."

When he gets his orders from his officers to attack the enemy, he
would probably be more anxious still to go in the opposite direction,
but he commands himself and says: "I must obey the orders of my
officers."

And the officers obey the orders of the general, and so the whole
force moves everywhere to the attack simply from a spirit of
discipline, each man making himself do his proper share, so that
although he may lose his life, yet his side may win the battle.

So it will be with you every day. You will have your duty to do, when
often you would much rather do your pleasure, or play some games; but
you have to command yourself and order yourself to do your duty in the
first place, and amuse yourself afterwards.

When you succeed in doing this, and in always obeying the orders of
your officer readily and cheerily, in small things as well as in great
things, you will soon find that it becomes a habit with you and not a
trouble, so that when the time comes for you to carry out some
difficult and dangerous order you will be able to do it at once,
without any hesitation and with complete success for the good of your
side--that is, for the good of your business, your employer, or of
your Country, without thinking of the difficulty or danger to
yourself.

With a Scout, your "_Duty_" is to do a good turn to somebody
every day. Your "_Discipline_" makes you command yourself to
carry this out, even though it may be irksome or dangerous, and though
nobody is there to see you do it. You do it because it is your duty
and you are trusted, on your honour, to do it.

      *       *       *       *       *

A DISOBEDIENT SCOUT.

I once had a brave scout in my force in the South African War. He was
a brave man and an active scout, but he was not good at obeying
orders, and in the end this cost him his life and did harm to our
plans.

We had news of a force of the enemy which did not know of our presence
in that part of the country. So we hid ourselves, meaning to surprise
and capture them when they came along.

The orders were that not a sound was to be made and not a man
_was_ to show himself, and these orders were faithfully carried
out--except by this one scout. He thought he knew better than others,
and he slipped away unseen to go and look out for the enemy's
approach.

Presently he spied a hostile scout and fired at him; the enemy's scout
returned his fire, and after a short duel both of them fell mortally
wounded.

But the noise of their shooting gave the alarm to the enemy's force;
more came upon the spot, and, finding a British scout there, they
naturally guessed that there must be more in the neighbourhood, so
they took all precautions, sent out scouts in all directions, and
then, coming on our tracks, at last discovered our hiding-place, and
gave warning to their own side, who were then able to make their
escape.

If my scout had only learnt, when a boy, how to obey orders, it might
have made a great difference that day to him, to us--and to the enemy.

       *       *       *       *       *

SCOUT TEXT.

Here is a text which will help Scouts to discipline themselves:

CHEW GUM IF YOUR JAWS WANT EXERCISE.

That was the advice given by a "self-made merchant to his son." He
meant, don't exercise your jaws by talking if you have nothing
important to say don't talk for the mere sake of talking; and, above
all, don't argue when you get an order.

Boys, you know, are rather fond of asking endless silly questions.
Before speaking you should think first whether what you are going to
say is really necessary or not, and then don't waste words or other
people's attention if it is not. If you _must_ keep your jaw
wagging, our American friend says "chew gum."

       *       *       *       *       *

THE SILENT KING OF ASHANTI.

In the expedition to Ashanti, on the Gold Coast, West Africa, when we
captured the King, Prempeh, he was carrying in his mouth a kind of nut
which looked like big, fat cigar. We found that he did this to prevent
himself talking too much.

If he felt inclined to make some meaningless remark, or in the heat of
an argument to let out a hasty opinion, he could not do so without
first having to take this impediment out of his mouth, and that gave
him time to think twice about what he was going to say.

I often think it would be a good thing if every nasty-tempered fellow
had to carry such a nut in his mouth, so that when he wanted suddenly
to let out a volley of abuse it would give him time to think and stop
it.

       *       *       *       *       *

SHOUTING SCOUTS AT WIMBLEDON.

I heard of a lady who, when riding on Wimbledon Common, came across a
party of Boy Scouts. She discovered their whereabouts by the immense
amount of jabbering that was going on; so, being the wife of an
officer, and knowing a good deal about scouting, she rode up to the
Scouts, and told them just what I should have told them, that unless
you practise keeping quiet at all times, you will forget to do so on
some important occasion, and so will give yourselves away.

Scouts should always talk low and quietly, and also should always move
quietly and lightly.

Remember on a still day or in the night a heavy, thumping footfall can
be heard a long way off, even in open country, and very much more so
in a street or in a house. So practise always treading lightly and
silently, and you will soon gain the Scouts' habit of moving unheard.

I have heard from an officer at the Front, who regrets that two old
Scouts whom he had with him have been killed or wounded. He found that
ordinary soldiers would not move quietly at night, and so were useless
to him. He has now got an ex-burglar as the next best thing to an
ex-Boy Scout!


CHEERFULNESS

Law 8. A SCOUT SMILES AND WHISTLES UNDER ALL DIFFICULTIES.

_When he gets an order, he should obey it cheerily and readily, not
in a slow_, hang-dog _sort of way.

Scouts never grouse at hardships nor whine at each other, nor_
swear _when put out, but go on whistling and smiling. When you just
miss a train, or someone treads on your favourite corn--not that
Scouts should have such things as corns--or in any annoying
circumstances, you should force yourself to smile at once, and then
whistle a tune, and you will be all right.

The punishment for swearing or using bad language is for each offence,
a_ mug of _cold water to be poured down the offender's _sleeve
by the other Scouts. It was the punishment invented by the old British
scout, Captain John Smith, three hundred years ago_.

When I was encamped with my troop of Scouts at Humshaugh,
Northumberland, a gentleman living in the neighbourhood invited us to
come and visit the castle in which he lived. It was a beautiful old
tower left much in the state in which it was when it formed one of the
Border defences against Scotland. On the top was the fighting platform
from which the archers fired their bolts and arrows, and the gunners
fired their culverins. On the storey below were the rooms in which the
family lived, and below these again were the guardrooms of the
men-at-arms. On the ground-floor was the cattle stable into which the
herds were driven for security when the enemy were around. The
portcullis which closed the gateway was still in existence, hauled up
and down by means of ropes over pulleys of which the levers were
worked on the floor above.

In later and more peaceful times, that is in the reign of James I, a
house was built on to the tower to give more room to the inhabitants.

In the hall of this house was a noble fireplace above which there was
an elaborate overmantel of carved oak illustrating the seven Christian
virtues. There were little statues representing Fortitude,
Benevolence, Faith, etc., etc., all the qualities which a good
Christian should possess and carry into practice. But I felt, after
looking at them all, that there was still one virtue missing, and I
suggested to the boys that you might carry out all these seven good
qualities of a Christian without doing it to the best effect. You
might carry it out as an order to be kind, to be helpful, to be
chivalrous, and so on, but if you only did it because it was an order,
and therefore did it grumpily, half its value was lost.

The important point is that when you know what is the right thing to
do, you should jump to it and do it cheerily with a smile. Therefore I
thought that we Scouts might add one more to these seven Christian
virtues--namely Cheerfulness.

Then there is another good reason for being cheerful.

Have you ever noticed as you walk along the street how very few people
look really happy? They are going along often with downcast eyes, and
nearly always with dejected, serious countenances; if one comes along
who looks at you smilingly it is a great relief, and makes you feel a
bit happier yourself. And _there_ is a reason why a Scout should
go about with a smile on, because it makes other people happy. You may
not always feel cheerful yourself, but you should not show this, as it
will make other people feel glum, too. If you make yourself look
cheerful, you will gradually find that you are becoming brighter.

If you are troubled or anxious, or in pain, force yourself to smile.
It will be difficult at first; still, force yourself to do it, and you
will find to your surprise that your trouble is not so great as you
thought it was.

I have known men in action getting very anxious when great danger
overshadowed them. But if one began to laugh and to talk cheerily, or
to whistle, the cloud passed by and everybody bucked up and was ready
to face the situation.

That is what makes our men so formidable in the war just now. In spite
of heavy losses, in spite of overwhelming attacks against them, they
have always kept up their spirits and therefore their pluck. It has
often been the secret of their being able to hold their own, and it
will be the secret of their coming out victorious in the end.

Remember this--and I have found it come true in hundreds of different
kinds of cases:

"A difficulty ceases to be a difficulty directly you smile at it and
tackle it."

       *       *       *       *       *

THE SCOUT'S SMILE.

During one of my visits to Birmingham, I saw a Rally of the local
Scouts. One thing that struck me about them, besides their good work,
was their cheerfulness. The outside of their programme had printed
upon it portraits of eight of their smartest Scouts, and each one of
these has a big grin on.

Well, that is what I like to see; fellows who can work, and work
cheerily. It is just what our men are doing at the Front.

I saw a letter the other day from an officer describing how the men
lived a miserable existence crouching in the trenches, always wet and
cold and muddy, being shot at and shelled all the time, but they
welcomed the shells as if they were friends, giving them the nicknames
of Jack Johnsons, Black Marias, Woolly Bears, etc. He says of the men:

"If I were asked what struck me most, I would say that it was the
marvellous cheerfulness of the men living in such awful circumstances.
Every one to a man seemed happy. They are always ready for a joke, and
they see fun in everything."

And that is why we shall succeed in this war, because our men see the
bright side of it, and take things cheerfully and hopefully, even in
the worst circumstances. It is also the way to succeed in peace time
when doing work or suffering hardships or disappointments.

       *       *       *       *       *

FIGHTING FROM A CHAIR.

[Illustration: KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE DOG.]

One bit of advice I gave to the Birmingham Scouts was that, if ever
you run a race with a dog, keep your eye on the dog, and don't look
about at other things. I myself was an example of "how not to do it,"
for I had had a race with my dog--I was running in shorts--and he saw
me looking round and promptly ran between my legs and threw me over.
So I had to go to Birmingham on two sticks with a bandaged knee.

But what is true of a dog race is true of any other competition in
life. When you start out to do a thing, keep your attention fixed on
what you are doing, and do not let it wander off to other things,
otherwise you may come a cropper.

It is a bit of a handicap to go about inspecting Scouts with one leg
out of action, but still I was only carrying out the example of other
Scouts.

There was Rob. Miller, a Scout at Whitby, who, when he lost a leg
through a German shell, was quite cheery, and wrote to me that he felt
it an honour to be the first Scout wounded whilst on duty, and that he
meant to go on scouting notwithstanding the loss of a leg.

Another Scout who lost his eye through a Toby Tenderfoot fooling with
a gun wrote to say that he could go scouting just as well with one eye
as with two. That is the spirit of the scouts.

In addition to these, I had a fine example in a namesake of mine,
Major H. G. Powell, out at the Front. He had left the Army some ten
years ago, but when the war broke out he went back to his old
regiment. In advancing to an attack he sprained his ankle badly.
However, he got a stick and a chair from a neighbouring cottage, and
continued to hobble along at the head of his men, sitting down
whenever there was a halt and directing their operations from the
chair. He went on doing this until he himself was hit and badly
wounded, and he was able to be carried safely back still sitting in
his chair.

[Illustration: A CHEERY OLD SCOUT.]

       *       *       *       *       *

HOW TO LIVE LONG.

I suppose none of you Scouts who read this are cheerful, happy
fellows! [I don't think!] But if you should happen to want to live to
be 100 years old, here is the way to do it--written by one who has
done it:

"_Be cheery, and work hard!_"

That is what Mrs. Rebecca Clark, of High Road, Wood Green, said a few
days before she died, and she was 110 years old, so she ought to know.

I think that most Scouts are doing exactly what she recommends--so in
A.D. 2010 there will be 200,000 old fellows of over 100 years of age,
skipping about in bare knees and worn-out hats, singing: "Boys, Be
Prepared!"

       *       *       *       *       *

THE ONLY BAD THING.

Mrs. Scoresby Routledge, a well-known lady explorer, wrote to me once
to say that while travelling in the Pacific she came across Scouts in
all sorts of unexpected places.

After giving them a good character, she added that the only bad thing
about Scouts was that they whistled.

She pointed out that a great many people already suffer from the
noises in the streets of our towns, especially people who are ill and
weak. Even small, harmless noises "get on their nerves," and keep them
from resting. And whistling is one of these dreaded noises.

I hope Scouts, in going about the streets, will think of this, and
tone down their whistling, as a good turn to people who may possibly
be disturbed by it.

At the same time, I need not remind you that it is good to whistle and
smile in a difficulty, when otherwise you might break out into curses,
or into a cry of pain or of panic, or take to your fists (or your
heels), according to what might be happening to you.

I have known fellows whistle in very bad times in action, and their
whistling has not only kept them calm themselves, but has also made
those around them feel calm and cheery, too.

       *       *       *       *       *

AN ANCIENT INSCRIPTION.

At Timgad in Algeria there are some interesting ruins, among them
being those of the theatre and the baths.

The theatre is a huge open-air one of horse-shoe shape with stone
seats rising like steps above each other, and with a row of private
boxes at the top.

The stage is a handsome one built of stone with fine marble pillars,
and a back wall--for the Romans did not make use of painted scenery as
we do--and behind the stage are the dressing-rooms for the actors.

The theatre itself was big enough to seat 3400 spectators, which is
more than most theatres in London could do, and as Timgad was merely a
country town of no very great size it shows that the Romans were as
fond of theatrical plays as the English are of cinematograph shows
to-day.

They were equally fond of bathing, and in this one town alone there
were twelve public baths. They were what we call Turkish baths, that
is, there were bathrooms of several grades of heat to be gone
through--one tepid, the next warm, the next one very hot, and then
cooler and cold, and the Romans were fond of taking these baths every
day.

This is too much of a good thing, as it is apt to weaken a man. The
Romans, as you know, were in the end driven out of their Empire,
because they allowed themselves to become weak in mind and in body by
too much laziness in theatre-going and continual hot baths.

One inhabitant had inscribed on a stone in Timgad what he thought to
be the best form of happiness. He wrote:

"_To hunt, to bathe, and to laugh--that's the way to live_."

And there is a good deal in what he says, for in hunting you have to
use much woodcraft and hard exercise, and keeping clean and being
cheery is all part of the Scout's life.

But he has forgotten to mention one very important thing towards
making your life a happy one, and I expect that any Scout could tell
me at once what that point is--couldn't you?

He has left out the happiness which you get from doing a good turn. If
he had slightly altered his sentence, and had put it this way:

"_To scout, to bathe, to do a good turn, and to smile--that is the
way to live and be happy_," he would have said the truth, and he
would have exactly described what every Boy Scout does.

       *       *       *       *       *

DON'T STAND WITH YOUR BACK TO THE SUN.

This is one of the Scout mottoes.

Every Scout knows that when you examine footmarks on the ground, you
should generally do so facing the sun, have them between you and the
light, and you will see them all the better.

But that is not the meaning of this text; it has a second and bigger
meaning.

It means that when there is any sunshine or brightness possible, look
out for it when you are in trouble or misfortune, and make the most of
it.

If you feel inclined to grumble at your lot because you have damaged
your leg and can't play in a game of football, think of other poor
cripples who never can play at all.

However down on your luck you may be, remember there is a bright
lining to every cloud. There is some brightness somewhere, if only you
look out for it and don't turn your back on it.

When things are looking their worst, and everybody is depressed, make
up your mind that you, at any rate, will be hopeful.

Try to see where there is hope.

Remember St. Paul said that God was the "God of Hope." Hope gives you
pluck and comfort at a bad time, and your hopefulness will comfort
others round you and nerve them to stick it out.

       *       *       *       *       *

LORD ROBERTS.

Lord Roberts died the best death that could have been hoped for him.
He died in the field, within the sound of the guns, doing his duty for
his Country even at the age eighty-two.

It was very many years ago that I first got to know him. It was at
Simla, in India. I had just joined the Army, and was enjoying myself
in all the glory of my new uniform at a ball. I had gone to the
refreshment-room to get something for my partner, but I could not make
the native waiter understand what I wanted, as I had not at that time
learnt any Hindustani.

A very small but very polite officer alongside me kindly explained to
the servant what I wanted. Then he said to me that if I wanted to
enjoy India I ought to learn the language as soon as possible. I
should get much more fun out of the country if I could talk to the
natives. And he asked me my name and where I was staying.

After thanking him, I thought no more about the matter till next day,
when there arrived at my house a native teacher of Languages, who said
that Sir Frederick Roberts had sent him to give me some lessons!

Thus, like everybody else, I began my acquaintance with him by
heartily liking him. He had gone out of his way to do a kindness to a
young officer of whom he knew nothing. But that was just like him--it
was his way.

I need not tell you about his early career in the Army. Probably every
Scout knows how, in the Mutiny in India in 1858, Lieutenant Roberts
won the Victoria Cross. He had charged with the cavalry, and had
followed the flying mutineers, when he saw one of them attacking a
loyal native cavalryman.

Roberts at once dashed to his rescue and cut down the Sepoy. As he did
so, he saw two more Sepoys making off with a regimental flag; so he
pushed on after them, although single-handed and alone. He seized the
Standard and cut down the man who held it. The other man aimed his
rifle at him, close against him, and pulled the trigger but the gun
failed to go off, and the man turned and fled for his life.

In 1880 Lord Roberts made his famous march in Afghanistan, from Kabul
to relieve Kandahar, which was besieged by the Afghans. He took ten
thousand men and marched the 320 miles in twenty-two days, which was a
splendid performance in that difficult, mountainous desert. He arrived
in time to relieve Kandahar and to inflict a very heavy defeat on the
Afghans. For his splendid victory here he received the title of Lord
Roberts "of Kandahar."

In 1900 he was Commander-in-Chief of the British forces in the Boer
war in South Africa. Here again he displayed his self-sacrifice and
determination.

His winning of the Victoria Cross had showed that, though a very small
man--he was very nearly rejected from the Army because he was so
small--he had great pluck. And he also had a great heart.

His pluck and self-control were perhaps better proved by his bracing
himself up to send men to their death in battle when he loved them and
would gladly have saved them if duty and the good of the Country were
not at stake. And it was in South Africa that he met with the sorrow
of his life, when his only son was killed in trying to save the guns
at the battle of Colenso.

For his gallantry on this occasion young Roberts was awarded the
Victoria Cross, although he was dead. It is seldom that the Victoria
Cross has been won by both father and son.

In South Africa Lord Roberts again did me a kind act by riding out
many miles to meet me on my coming into Pretoria after the siege of
Mafeking.

On his return to England after that war, Lord Roberts became
Commander-in-Chief of the British Army.

When the Boy Scout movement began, he took the greatest interest in
it, because he was always fond, of boys and knew how useful to the
Country they might be if only they were trained to it.

So he came on the Council of the Scouts' Headquarters, and he reviewed
the Scouts at a big Empire Day parade in Hyde Park.

When I went to stay with him, he talked of little else but the Scouts;
and the Scouts at Ascot, who were raised and organised by his
daughter, Lady Aileen Roberts, miss their great friend.

The Ascot Scouts formed part of the Guard of Honour which escorted his
body through that place on its way to burial in London. At St. Paul's
Cathedral I was glad to see also a Guard of Honour of Scouts, who had
come to pay their last respects to our national hero.

Lord Roberts was a splendid example for any boy to follow, because he
rose from small beginnings to the highest position in the Army and,
what is more, to the highest position in the admiration and affection
of all his fellow-subjects of the King, whether they were white or
coloured. And he did it all by his own merit, though he was not
extraordinarily brilliant or clever as a lad.

How did he manage it?

I think it was largely because he was a true Scout in every sense of
the word. The things which brought him success were:

His pluck in facing every kind of difficulty or danger with cheery
hopefulness.

His eagerness to work hard and to do his duty regardless of whether it
was what he liked or wanted to do. His honesty and straightforwardness,
which made everybody trust and believe in him.

His humility, by which he put himself on equal terms with everybody;
he had no kind of "swank" or pride, in spite of his brilliant
successes.

His kind-heartedness and thoughtfulness for others, especially those
at the bottom of the ladder. And that was one of the secrets of his
success--those working under his orders worked like slaves for him
because they loved him.

His simple faith in God, which led him true and straight through every
difficulty.

Well, when you come to look into it, you will see that by doing these
things in his daily life Lord Roberts was exactly carrying out the
Scout Law. It is what you as a Scout are already aiming to do.

So, now that you have his great example before you, all you have to do
is to go ahead and stick to it, with all the greater determination
that you will make yourself, like Lord Roberts, a cheery, brave fellow
and a valuable man for your Country.


THRIFT

Law 9. A SCOUT IS THRIFTY.

_It is expected that a Scout will save every penny he can, and put
it in the bank, so that he may have money to keep himself when out of
work, and thus not make himself a burden to others; or that he may
have money to give away to others when they need it_.

There are many Boy Scouts to-day who will in a few years' time become
very rich men although they have not much to begin with. That is a
certainty, because a good many are determined to make their fortunes,
and if a lad begins by being thrifty he generally succeeds in the end.

A fellow who begins making money as a boy will go on making it as a
man. Some fellows, of course, want to do it by easy means, and that as
a rule does not pay.

Some fellows see a fortune in betting on a horse race or football
match; you may win a few shillings now and then but you are absolutely
certain to lose half the time, and it is a fool's way of trying to
make money, because the bookies who make a living by it trust to there
being a sufficient number of fools to keep on betting and supplying
them with money.

Such money is not earned, it is only gained by chance and therefore is
not worth having--to a fellow with manly ideas.

Any number of poor boys have become rich men, but it was because they
meant to from the first. They WORKED for it and put by every penny
that they earned in the bank to begin with.

Lots of boys are already at work doing this, and I hope that very many
of the Boy Scouts are also at it. Two good rules are given for making
your fortune. The first is "_Spend_ less _than you earn_."
The second is "_Pay ready money, and don't run into debt_."

Many of you probably have heard of the Nasmyth steam hammer which is
used in all the great iron works?

Well, Nasmyth, as a boy, worked in his father's workshop, and used to
spend a great deal of his spare time in a neighbouring iron foundry,
and he took to using tools and making all sorts of models of engines,
etc., just as you Boy Scouts who are working up for your Engineer's
Badge might do.

He made one model steam-engine so large that a man bought it for the
purpose of driving a machine tool in his factory, and so he began to
make money by selling his own home-made engines. And finally he went
to work at a big engineering shop because he felt that he was one of a
large family and that his father could not afford to keep them all and
he was resolved to make his own living.

He could not afford to have his food cooked for him on the small pay
that he got as a boy at the works, but he manufactured his own
cooking-stove and found that with its help he was able to live on ten
shillings a week.

He worked so well in the shop that the manager raised his wages to
fifteen shillings a week. But as he had found that he could live on
ten shillings, he put by the extra five shillings each week in the
bank, and all the time he kept making tools for himself in his spare
hours, and eventually started himself in business on his own account
with his own money and his own tools, and finally invented his
celebrated steam hammer.

By the time he was forty-eight, he had made a big income and quite a
fortune. Many men would not have been content with this, but would
have gone on until they became millionaires. But Nasmyth did not, he
was content to retire from hard work with sufficient money to buy a
happy home, where he went in for making telescopes and studying
astronomy and also in doing good turns to people not so well off as
himself.

And he gave some good advice to young fellows wanting to make a
success of their lives in the following words:

"If I were to try to compress into one sentence the whole of the
experience I have had, and offer it to a young man as a certain means
of bringing success in whatever position he holds, it would be
this:'_Duty first, pleasure second_,'"

"I am certain from what I have seen that what so many call 'bad luck'
comes in nine cases out of ten from putting that maxim the other way
round and satisfying your pleasure first and attending to work and
duty afterwards."

One poor man, a farm labourer, made himself rich by writing poetry.
His name was Stephen Duck, the thresher poet. But unfortunately
numbers of other working men, seeing his good fortune, also thought it
would be an easier way of making money to write poetry rather than by
doing hard work, and Horace Walpole, when writing of Duck, said.,
"that he succeeded as a poet, but he also succeeded in ruining at
least twenty good workmen."

There are very few young men who have not at one time or another in
their lives thought themselves splendid poets. I hope this will be a
warning to them, and that they will take to hard work as a means of
making their way in the world.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE MAN WHO "STUCK TO IT."

Lord Strathcona began life as a poor boy in Scotland and he ended up
by being one of the richest men in Britain, and, not only the richest
in money, but in having also the admiration and affection of a vast
number of his fellow-countrymen.

When he was eighteen, as plain Donald Smith, he went out to Canada and
joined the Hudson Bay Trading Company there. This Company used to buy
fur skins from the trappers and Indians, and their trading stations
were built in far-off, out-of-the-way places in order to be near to
the hunting-grounds of these people.

Also, as you never could trust the Red Indians, they were all
fortified posts, ready for defence against attack.

Young Smith was sent up to a place called Mingan, right away up in the
north-east of Canada, in Labrador, a cold, bleak, dreary country.

After he had been there some time, his eyes began to give him great
trouble, and he feared he was going blind. There was no doctor nor
anyone else to consult, so he started off to make his way down to
Montreal to see a doctor. He took with him as guides two half-breed
Indians.

For weeks he toiled through the awful wilderness, among snow and
blizzard, but at length he reached Montreal.

Do you think they made a hero of him?

Not a bit of it. His employers rounded on him for quitting his post
without leave, and told him to go back at once.

At first he felt--like many of us would have done--so angry that he
was on the point of throwing up the whole thing and leaving the
service of the Hudson Bay Company.

But on second thoughts he felt that, after all, the managers were
right. They had put him there to have charge of valuable stores and
important work, and that it was his duty to stick there, and not to
come in to civilised parts for his own sake.

So he accepted the wigging, and started back on the long, dreary
journey to his gloomy post in Labrador.

He had luckily been able to see a doctor, and had got his eyes put
right.

It was an awful journey: so bad that the two guides gave way under
their hardships and died. But again Donald Smith _stuck to it_,
and struggled on, and in the end he just managed to get to his post,
worn out and exhausted.

But that sticking to it was exactly what was the secret of his
success.

For thirteen _years_ he stuck to his job in that awful country
and then his employers saw that he was so strong on doing his duty
that they promoted him to higher and more important work, till in the
end he became Chief Factor or Head Manager of the Company.

Then came the idea of making the Canadian Pacific Railway right across
Canada.

People said it was a mad scheme; that it could never pay to make a
railway into that vast wilderness which in those days had not been
properly explored.

But Donald Smith looked far ahead, and saw the time when Britain would
be overcrowded with people, and corn-growing, cattle-raising land
would be needed for colonists.

So he put his savings into the railway and worked hard to make it a
success.

Everything seemed to go against it. But he _stuck to it_, and
fought against all difficulties, until in the end he _came_ out
successful. And to-day the Canadian Pacific is one of the greatest
railways in the world, and has opened up Canada to be a great country,
peopled by thousands of British colonists.

And so he made his fortune, and later on, in return for his splendid
work for the Empire, he was made Lord Strathcona.

Most men leave off work when they are between sixty and seventy, but
Lord Strathcona did not. He still continued to _stick to it_ for
twenty or thirty years longer than most men. Only a few days before
his death he was at work in his office (and he died at the age of
ninety-four).

And in his office every day he _stuck to it_, for he went there
about eleven in the morning, but seldom left before seven--often he
was there till nine.

When all the neighbouring offices in Victoria Street had turned off
their lights and closed their doors for the night, Lord Strathcona's
window was to be seen still brilliantly lit up, so much so that the
policemen and others about there called it "The Lighthouse."

Now, why should a man go on working overtime like that? He was not
making money; he had enough of that and to spare. It was simply
because he considered it was his duty, and he _stuck to it_.

Besides his adventures in Canada, and besides his power of sticking to
his duty, Lord Strathcona was also a good scout, because he was kind
and helpful to others.

       *       *       *       *       *

MONEY IS NOT EVERYTHING.

For the South African War he paid the expenses of raising a regiment
to fight for the King--and a fine regiment it was, too--of mounted
men, which was called after him "Strathcona's Horse."

Also the Boy Scouts owe him a debt of gratitude, because in the early
days of the movement, when we were struggling to get along, he gave
500 Pounds to me to help to start our brotherhood.

So Boy Scouts owe much to Lord Strathcona for that, and for setting a
real living example of how a man should _stick to it_ in doing
his duty, and in being kind and helpful to others.

From these stories of poor boys who have made successes of their lives
and become rich men I do not want you to think that I look upon money
as the aim of your life. You should only wish to gain sufficient money
to put you in a position where you can live happily into old age if
necessary, and bring up a family without calling on other people to
support you.

And I would tell you just one more story of a poor man who yet made a
fortune other than that which money produced.

This man was John Pounds, and he kept a little cobbler's shop in
Portsmouth, where he worked hard and well, so that people began to
bring their boots to him for repair in preference to any other
cobbler, because they knew that he did honest work and they got a
better return for their money.

Soon he began to gather in much more cash than was necessary for his
modest wants. But he did not buy a big house and set himself up in
comfort. He did a better thing than that.

When he was at his work, idle boys used to come and hang around his
shop watching him busily employed, and while he stitched and cobbled
he chatted with the boys and took an interest in them.

Boys are good fellows, and when they found somebody thought about
them, although they were dirty, ragged urchins, they took an interest
in him, until gradually they came at their own desire to hear him
talk, and began to imitate him in doing steady work. Then he made use
of his savings in a way that was better than feeding himself on good
things, for he fed these boys who badly wanted a good meal.

As time went on, he started a sort of club or school for his ragged
friends, and in the end had a sort of Scout troop of boys who learnt
handicrafts under him and became strong with their good feeding,
became good workmen under his instruction, and saved up money under
his example.

Thus he was able to send out into the world a number of good, strong,
prosperous workmen who would otherwise have drifted into being
wasters.

And from his little effort in Portsmouth sprang up similar ragged
schools and boys' clubs in different parts of the Kingdom.

So he did as much by his thrift as many have done by saving their
millions.

       *       *       *       *       *

HOW A POOR BOY BECAME RICH.

"How can I ever succeed in becoming great and rich? It is impossible.
I am only a poor boy!"

That is what a lad said to me. I was able to restore him to greater
hopefulness by saying:

"Nothing is impossible if you make up your mind to do it. Many a great
man who is alive to-day began as a poor boy like yourself, with no
help besides his own wits and pluck."

Then I told him about Sir William Arrol. At nine years of age he went
to work as a "piecer" in a cotton factory. A few years later he became
apprenticed to a blacksmith. He worked hard and well, and was very
steady, so that at the age of twenty-three he found himself foreman in
Messrs. Laidlaw's boiler works in Glasgow. Like a Scout, he was
thrifty, and in five years of this employment he saved up 85 Pounds of his
wages, and with this sum he started a business of his own.

At first he made boilers and girders, and then, as his business grew
bigger, he took up bridge-building.

Steadily he worked at this, being at all times anxious to show good
solid work, without any scamping.

To start with he had met with disappointments and failures, but he
would not give in to then; when things looked their worst he kept a
smiling face and _stuck to it_.

And in the end he came out successful, as every man does who is
patient and sticks it out. He got a name for steady, persevering work,
and for giving full value for any money paid to him.

For these reasons he obtained good contracts for building bridges, and
soon enlarged his business into a very big one.

Among others, the great Tay bridge and the bridge over the Forth in
Scotland are his work.

He died a rich and highly respected man, but in the height of his
power he never forgot that he began as a poor boy, and he always did
what he could to help other poor boys to win their way to success.

He used, however, to say that success depended mainly on the boy
himself. If a boy were determined to get on, and knew a handicraft or
two, he would probably succeed, but if he merely dabbled in one thing
and then another, and wasted his time in amusements, and could not
stick it out when luck seemed against, him, that boy would be a
failure, and would probably go on being a failure all his life.

       *       *       *       *       *

THRIFT IS MANLINESS.

So you see if, as a Scout, you pick up and really practise what
Scouting teaches you, it gives you every chance of being a success in
life, since it teaches you to be active and enduring, to be
trustworthy, to be obedient to your duty, to be thrifty, and to learn
handicrafts.

In fact, it teaches you to Be Prepared to make a successful career for
yourself if you stick to it.

The knights in the old days were ordered by their code of rules to be
thrifty, that is, to save money as much as possible in order to keep
themselves and not to be a burden to others, and that they might have
more to give away in charity.

If they were poor, they were not to beg for money, but had to make it
by their own work.

Thus, Thrift is part of manliness because it means hard work and
self-denial, and boys are never too young to work for pay, which they
should put in the Post Office Savings Bank or some other Government
security.


CLEANLINESS

Law 10. A SCOUT IS CLEAN IN THOUGHT, WORD AND DEED.

_Decent Scouts look down upon silly youths who talk dirt, and they
do not let themselves give way to temptation, either to talk it or to
do anything dirty. A Scout is pure, and clean-minded, and manly._

When boys are getting big, they generally want to show off and to
impress other boys with their "manliness"--or at least what they think
is manliness.

It generally begins with smoking. They think it fine to smoke, so they
suck and puff at cigarettes, partly because these are cheap, and
partly because a pipe would make them sick.

The reason why half of them do it is because they are arrant cowards,
and are afraid of being laughed at by the other boys if they don't do
it. They think themselves tremendous heroes, while in reality they are
little asses. Then they like to use swear words because they think
this makes them appear tremendously ferocious and big. Also they think
it the height of manliness to tell smutty stories and to talk dirt.

But these things don't say much for the boy who does them. He
generally curls up and hides them directly a man is present. He only
produces them for swanking in the presence of other boys, This shows
that he is not really very proud of his accomplishments, and the boy
who has a sense of honour in him knows at once that such things are
against his conscience-law and he will have nothing to do with them.

This often puts him in a difficult position when among boys who are
showing off, as they will be ready to jeer at him; but if he has
honour and pluck--in a word, if he is a true Scout--he will brave it
out and, as a result, he will come out the only real man of the party.

The probability will be that though they do not show it at the moment,
some of the others will see that he is right and that they are wrong,
and will pluck up courage themselves and follow his example in being
clean and straight.

If, by his conduct, a Scout can in this way save one fellow, he will
at any rate have done something in the world.

You may think there is no harm in a little joking of a risky kind, or
in the occasional secret smoking of a cigarette, although you allow it
may be silly; but if you look into it, and especially when you have,
later on, seen results such as I have seen that come of it, you will
at once understand there is great harm--great danger in it. It is the
beginning; and the beginning of anything is very often the important
point.

If you talk or listen to what is wrong, you get to think about what is
wrong and very soon you get to doing what is wrong.

By doing things which you would not care to do before your father or
mother, you are becoming a bit of a sneak. You do these things
secretly, you are not straight.

A fellow who is not straight at starting is pretty sure to go on being
crooked for the rest of his career. He knows all the time in his
inmost heart that he is a sneak, and he can therefore never take a
pride in himself and others are bound to find it out sooner or later,
so he never gets a real friend nor a good employer.

Then these things are likely to do him bodily harm.

Smoking is poison to a growing lad. It may not do you much harm if you
take to it when you are grown up; but while you are still forming your
muscles as a lad it is almost certain to do damage to your heart, your
wind, your digestion, and very likely your eyesight and teeth.

I take it that most boys want to be good healthy runners and able to
play at all the games, and I am certain that every Scout wants to Be
Prepared to be a good healthy man for his Country.

Well, you can't do it if you begin by smoking as a boy.

Drinking begins, like everything else, in a small way; but it very
soon grows on a fellow unless he is on the look out to stop it. More
than half the crime in Great Britain is due to drink, and so is most
of the poverty, and three-quarters of the insanity. And it is much the
same with thoughts about women; they soon grow into wrong action, and
if these are kept up they grow into habits which lead in an awful
number of cases to misery, disease, and madness.

Brace up!

Be a man! Keep off these dangers.

If fellows around you are swanking in dirt, leave them and go
elsewhere.

Don't let yourself BEGIN loafing about, taking drinks, talking smut,
or doing what you know is wrong; give yourself bettor things to
do--games, handicrafts, good turns, work, and you will grow up a
clean, straight, and happy fellow, and, what is more--a _man_.

       *       *       *       *       *

MANLINESS IS NOT DIRTINESS.

Not long ago there was a lot of argument about certain music-halls in
London. Many people were disgusted at the low and dirty talk or hints
made by some of the performers. Most of these rotten ideas of
half-dressed women, dancing about trying to look pretty, come from
abroad, and do not really please the ordinary British man.

Harry Lauder is delightfully funny, but he is funny without being
dirty, and so is Chevalier, the coster singer. Dan Leno made you
laugh, but he was never dirty--and that was why he and these other
singers have been so popular.

I saw a performance not long ago, where a half-dressed woman came and
danced about on the stage, but, though she was tremendously advertised
as the great attraction of the place, she got very little applause.
Soon after her there came a bright-looking girl in ordinary clothes,
who merely sang an English ballad, but she was cheered and applauded
till she had to come on again and sing a second, and even a third
time.

I believe that the proper, manly Britisher likes a good clean show on
the stage; he likes to have a good hearty laugh, or to hear good
music, but I believe it is only a very few (and those nearly all
slackers and wasters) who care to go and see the nasty, half-indecent
shows which come sometimes from other countries.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE ORDER OF THE BATH.

In the old days when being made Knights, members of the Order of the
Bath used to go and take a bath as part of the ceremony. I was very
glad to see in Hull during a visit there that at the Boys' Club every
boy on coming into the club has a bath.

In the first room he comes into on entering the club he takes off all
his clothes and puts them in a rack made for the purpose. Then he goes
into a big warm plunge bath, from which he goes into a drying-room,
and beyond this is a dressing-room, where he gets a club shirt and
pair of shorts to wear for the evening, till it is time to get into
his own clothes to go home again.

[Illustration: BRITISH SOLDIERS SURPRISED THE FRENCH NATIVES BY THEIR
EAGERNESS TO HAVE A WASH, EVEN ON ICY COLD MORNINGS.]

This daily bath is an excellent thing for keeping a fellow healthy and
strong--and the most important part of it is the rubbing with the
towel.

Well, it is often difficult for a Scout to get a bath. Sometimes in
his home there are no means for doing it, and often out on the veldt
or desert there is very little water, but if he has a towel,
especially a damp one, he can always give himself a good rub down with
it--he should scrub himself well all over! and that is what I should
like every Scout to do every morning when he gets up. It will not only
keep him clean, but will make him grow far more healthy and happy and
strong, because it cleans the skin and wakes up the blood so that it
rushes through his veins and brings him health.

So get yourself a towel, every Scout; and carry out your rubbing every
day when you get up.

In the same way see that you clean your teeth regularly night and
morning--not because it will help you to pass the time away, but
because it will prevent your teeth from getting rotten, thus saving
you from toothache.

       *       *       *       *       *

SPITTING.

"Gentlemen _do_ not spit; men _must_ not spit" is a notice
which may be seen in an American city; also there is a similar one
which says: "If you _expect to rate_ as a gentleman, don't
_expectorate_."

On the steamships to South America the English passengers were often
disgusted by the amount of spitting about the decks done by some of
the foreigners on board.

One of the captains thought of a good idea; he ordered a sailor,
carrying a mop, to follow each of these foreigners where-ever he went;
whenever the foreigner spat, the sailor used the mop, and in a short
time _all_ the foreigners learnt that if they behaved like other
gentlemen and did not spit, they were spared having an attendant with
a mop, so they soon gave up the dirty habit.

When I was in charge of a public building in Malta, which was guarded
at night by Maltese watchmen, I soon found that I need not be always
going round to see that they were alert, because their habit of
constantly spitting showed me next morning whether they had been awake
and where they had stood or walked during the night.

One day I found the pavement of one man's beat quite clean and dry, so
I had him up and accused him of having been absent without leave. He
did not know how I found it out, so confessed that he had been away to
see a friend, thinking there was no harm in it, since the place was
all locked up and secure.

Englishmen are fortunately not so dirty in their habits as to be
always spitting, but, still; there is a little of it going on in our
streets; and even a little is a bad thing.

It is not only a habit that is nasty to other people, but it is
dangerous as well, for the following reason;

So many men are suffering from consumption or disease of the lungs
even without knowing it. When they spit they throw out a number of
tiny "germs," which, although too small to be seen, get into the air
and are very easily breathed in again by other passers-by; and these
germs contain the seeds of the disease, which are thus sown in healthy
people, and make them "consumptives" also.

Unhappily people are rather fond of spitting in railway carriages. A
man doing this was fined ten shillings and two guineas costs not long
since.

His excuse was that he had a bad cough.

Any Scout could have told him, apart from the dirty, disgusting part
of the habit, how very dangerous to other passengers it is for a
person with a bad cough to indulge in this habit.

Little living seeds of disease are in this way let loose to get into
other people's throats and lungs, and possibly to bring them illness
and death.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE WAR AGAINST CONSUMPTION.

Sixty thousand people die every year of consumption in Great Britain.

One death in every eight is from consumption.

Two hundred and fifty thousand people, or one in every two hundred,
have the disease in them.

Consumption is caught through carelessness or ignorance, by breathing
the germs, or in drinking them in milk.

The following are a few simple rules which, if followed, should help
to prevent you from getting it:

   1. Live much in the open air.
   2. Sleep with the window open.
   3. Breathe through the nose.
   4. If you drink milk, be sure that it is pure.
   5. Keep your blood healthy with exercise, good and plain food.
   6. Keep your home clean and well ventilated.
   7. Never neglect a cold.


Here are some pictures showing how people get the germs of consumption
into them unless they are very careful.

A large number of cows have the germs or seeds of consumption in them,
and they give out these germs in their milk. So milk ought to be
"sterilised," that is to say, it should be made so hot that the germs
are killed before it is drunk.

[Illustration: DO NOT DRINK MILK STRAIGHT FROM THE COW, AS A GREAT
NUMBER OF THESE ANIMALS HAVE THE GERMS OF CONSUMPTION IN THEM.]

Then a large number of people have the consumption germs in them,
although they may not yet be ill with it. They will get ill sooner or
later, and they give out germs whenever they cough or spit.

[Illustration: HOW CONSUMPTION IS SPREAD.

A man spits and the germs rise. They try a boy who breathes through
the nose, but get thrown out again. Then they try another boy who
breathes through his open mouth, and so they get into his lungs.]

These germs get blown about in the air with the dust, and get into
other people's mouths, and so into their lungs--that is, if the other
people go about with their mouths partly open. If they breathe through
their nose only, as I hope all Scouts do, there is less chance of the
germs getting into the lungs, as they get caught in the sticky liquid
in the nostrils, and get driven out again when you blow your nose.

It is the same with other diseases besides consumption.

The Missioner Scout can safely go about among people who are ill with
colds, measles, and other sicknesses, if he breathes only through his
nose. All illnesses that are "catching" are spread by germs flying
from one person to another.

The consumptive germs get into you and go for your lungs, which are
big sponges inside you, through which your blood gets the air, which
is necessary to keep it healthy. Consumption germs "consume" your
lungs.

The nasty little germ of disease thrives in dirt, and dark and muggy
_air_, and so he grips even the healthiest people in rooms that
are dark and dirty, and where the windows are not kept open.

Fresh air, sunlight, and cleanliness kill the germs.

Now that you know what consumption is, you will be doing a good turn
to get other people to understand it.

I _want_ every _Scout who reads this to show the pictures to at
least five other people, AND EXPLAIN them. He may thus save lives._




TRAVELS ABROAD

CAMPING IN NORWAY

After a delightful little voyage in one of the smart Wilson Line
steamers, I arrived one morning early in Christiania, the capital of
Norway.

The town is an ordinary Continental town, but stands on the shores of
an arm of the sea which is so shut in by wooded hills for some twenty
miles that it is more like an inland lake than a gulf of the ocean.

What a place for Sea Scouts!

One of the first Norwegian boys to attract my attention was a Boy
Scout--so like an English Scout that he may have been one for all I
know, but I was not able to speak to him, I was catching a train, and
he was going off in a hurry in another direction, evidently in
trouble, as he was whistling and smiling! And it is difficult to tell
a Norwegian boy from an English boy by his appearance, for they are
very much alike.

And so are the girls and young women very like their British sisters.
But then, as we all came of the same blood in bygone times, it is not
altogether surprising.

Then their Royal Family is related to ours, for Queen Maud, the wife
of King Haakon, is sister of our own King.

So Norwegians have much in common with the English, and since my visit
Scouts of the two countries have become good friends and camped with
each other.

There could be no better country than this for camping out. As you
come through it in the train, you keep passing among wooded hills and
then alongside rivers and lakes; a great deal of wild country with
occasional cultivated parts where there are neat little wooden
farmsteads and villages.

The houses are painted bright colours, and are roofed with tiles or
shingles, that is, wooden slates, as in Canada. In fact, with its
forests, lakes, and rivers, and their floating timber, and the
sawmills, the country generally is not unlike Canada.

As wood is so abundant here, farm Scouts will be interested to see
from the picture how they make their fences in place of hedges or
ordinary post-and-rails. It is a kind of fence that you can make
easily with almost any kind of slats or with brushwood or branches.

[Illustration: A NORWEGIAN FENCE.]

A way which the Norwegian woodmen have of piling their small timber in
the woods in order to dry it is one which might also be useful to
Scouts when making a bivouac-hut, where there are plenty of saplings.
You pile them as shown in the picture, all with their butts or thick
ends together to windward, and thin ends splayed outwards.

When you have got this frame together you can cover it with a
waterproof sheet, or straw mat, or brushwood, to keep out the weather,
and light your fire opposite the opening.

In my camp I had one friend, George.

[Illustration: AN EASILY-MADE BIVOUAC HUT]

We found a good site on the bank of a rushing roaring river between
high hills covered with forest. We were thirty-five miles from the
nearest railway station, and about four miles from a farm, where we
got our butter and our milk. The river supplied our fish, and we shot
our own game.

We carried just enough kit to make a load for a pack-pony--a bundle of
about 50lb. weight on each side of him. There were no roads, and a
pack-pony is the only means of carrying heavy luggage, such as tents,
etc.

We each had our bivouac tent, bedding, change of clothes, cooking
pots, and fishing rods, etc.

Of course, we did our own cooking, woodcutting, and cleaning up. And
cleaning up is a very important part of camp work.

Our camp was small and never likely to be seen by anybody besides
ourselves, but it was always kept very neat and tidy, and we could
shift camp at any moment, and leave scarcely a sign that we had been
there. That is how Scouts should always have their camp--everything in
its place, so that you can find anything you want at a moment's notice
in the event of a sudden turn out in the dark, or for shutting up for
a sudden rain squall.

All scraps of food should be burnt or buried, and not thrown about
round the camp. On service these scraps would be good "sign" to an
enemy's scouts as to who had occupied the camp, and how long ago, and
how well off they were for provisions, and so on.

Another reason against letting your camp ground get dirty is that it
quickly becomes the camping place also of thousands of flies. If you
have flies in camp it is a sign that the camp is not kept clean.

       *       *       *       *       *

A CAMP BEDROOM.

I have made a sketch of my tent, which, as you will see, is a kind of
hammock with a roof to it, slung between two trees. This form of tent
keeps you dry in wet weather or on swampy ground; you never have to
lie on the ground, you can get snakes and other nice visitors crawling
into your bed. The cot is long enough to hold your kit as well as
yourself.

It is kept stretched out by two side poles and a ridge pole. These can
be cut in the wood where you camp, and the cot itself, with bedding
and kit inside, can be rolled up in the waterproof, and this forms a
neat roll for half of the pack-pony's load.

The cot is springy and most comfortable to sleep in.

When you are ill or wounded it makes a very good stretcher, the side
poles forming the carrying handles. In the same way, when you are dead
it makes an excellent coffin, as the sides and ends fold in, and can
be laced over the body. I have not tried it myself in that way.

Another advantage which I have twice found the cot-tent to have was,
when a tornado visited camp, and all the tents were blown down into
the mud, my little cot was swaying quietly in the wind--it cannot blow
down.

In the drawing you see also, besides my bedroom (in the cot), my
dressing-room, my drawing-room, and my bathroom--in fact, my whole
residence.

The dressing-room was where my fishing waders are hanging up to dry,
together with my shaving-glass, hat, and holdalls.

Over the cot are hanging my overcoat and moccasins and towel. My
drawing-room was the rug on which I sit, my writing-case lying there
ready for use.

[Illustration: MY CAMP RESIDENCE IN NORWAY. My cot-tent will be seen
in the centre of the picture.]

My bath was down below, through the trees, in the river!

My whole house was carpeted with a beautiful soft springy moss, so dry
that a match dropped on to it would soon set the whole forest in a
blaze.

So we had to be very careful about our camp fire.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE CAMP FIRE.

We made our kitchen near the river, where this dry moss did not grow.

A camp fire for cooking is not a bonfire. A tenderfoot never remembers
this; but an old campaigner can be recognised by the smallness of his
fire; he does not waste fuel. In the woods there may be plenty of
timber, but he is not going to waste time, energy, and axes in cutting
down piles of firewood when he can make a few handfuls do equally
well; and if he is out on the plains where firewood is almost unknown,
he has to do with a few roots of grass, or bits of cow-dung, etc.

Then a big roaring fire, though it looks very cheery, sends off
sparks, and in dry camping weather these are very dangerous, whether
in the woods, or on the heather, or among the grass.

[Illustration: MY CAMP KITCHEN.]

We began our fire by, first of all, collecting a heap of firewood,
chiefly dead branches from trees; then by laying a few shreds of
birch-bark between two good flat stones of equal height (about six
inches), and on these we laid a few bits and splinters of dry wood
taken from the inside of a dead tree, and on that just two or three
small dry sticks, and then set it alight. As it burnt we gradually
added more small sticks till it was a good strong little fire, then we
added more and more sticks, the object being to get the space between
the stones gradually full of glowing red-hot bits of wood to give heat
to the cooking pots, which we then stood on the two stones so as to
bridge over the fire.

The great art is to begin with a very _small_ fire and a
_very_ dry one. You can then add to its size as you please later
on, and when it is going strong you can add damper wood if dry wood is
scarce. Birch-bark cannot be found everywhere, but it is the best of
lighting tinder when you have it.

The channel between the stones is much better if laid so as to face
the breeze. The fire can then be kept going at the mouth of it, and
the heat will blow through; a bigger kind of log can be put in from
the other end to catch fire and add to the heat in the channel.

Of course, there are plenty of other ways of making fires, which you
can read about in _Scouting for Boys_, but this is the particular
kind of cooking fire that we used in my Norwegian camp.

At night, when we had cooked our supper and the night was getting
chilly, of course, we put on big logs laid across each other, and so
got a big, star-shaped fire to make a blaze to warm us,

But we kept a good watch on any sparks to see that they didn't touch
the moss or heather, and when we turned in, we trod out the fire and
poured water over the whole of the ashes, so as to prevent any chance
of embers blowing out into flame again during the night and setting
light to the grass.

Scouts cannot be too careful in this matter, especially in England,
where landowners are very good at lending their ground to troops for
camping, but are naturally very nervous all the time lest by some
carelessness a grass fire may get started, and thousands of pounds'
worth of timber or property get burnt.

Early in the morning we were to leave our rest-house near the railway
in order to drive (and partly to walk) to the place where we were
going to make our headquarters. This was forty-nine kilometres
distant. How many miles is that?

As kilometres are generally used abroad for telling distances, a Scout
ought to know how to compare the two and here is a simple way of doing
it: Multiply your number of kilometres by five and divide the result
by eight, and you will have the number of miles. Thus:

We want to know how many miles our forty-nine kilometres are.

     49
      5
    ---
  8)245
    ---
     30 5/8 or about 30 1/2 miles.

As I have said, we were to leave early, but we found that the
Norwegian idea of early is not so very early as with us in England.
They thought eight o'clock breakfast very early, and the cart, which
was supposed to start at nine, did not get away till 10:30.

It was a little ramshackle sort of dogcart with a very high seat,
which just gave standing room for us among our baggage, while the boy
in charge of the pony hung on as best he could behind.

The pony was fine and strong and fat, but awfully sedate; in fact, it
was only after a lot of persuasion that we got him to move at a trot,
and then it was a marvellously slow trot.

However, I found that if one showed him the spare end of the rope
reins, and offered to strike him with it, he mended his pace
considerably. He kept his eye on me all the time--

The Norwegians seem to be very kind to their animals. They don't use
whips or blinkers or bearing-reins on their horses and before we had
gone very far the boy in charge considered it time to unharness and
feed his horse for a few minutes. We walked on while he did so, and as
it wasn't for an hour and a half that he overtook us again, we guessed
he had given the horse a very fine feed indeed.

[Illustration: THE HORSE KEPT HIS EYE ON ME ALL THE WAY.]

We didn't do ourselves badly, either, because all along the road,
which ran through beautiful woods along the hillside, we found lots of
excellent raspberries growing wild.

We changed ponies half-way: but when we had got nearly to our
journey's end, the boy said he must stop and feed the horse. We said:
"No; it is only four or five miles more, and the pony will be home."
But the boy began to cry at our cruelty, so we had to stop and let the
horse graze. It was very pleasing to see that they are so kind to
their animals.

I have said that I was not one day in Norway before I saw a Boy Scout.
Well, I was not two days in the country before I saw a Girl Guide.
Correctly dressed in the same kits those in England, with her patrol
ribbons on, she was taking lunch at the rest-house where we stopped
for ours. Unfortunately, she could not talk English, so we could not
have a chat, as I should have liked.

It is a grand thing for Scouts who care to travel that Boy Scouts are
now to be found in most foreign countries, because you have only to
make the secret sign a few times in any town, and you will get an
answer, and find a brother Scout ready to help you.

In Norway, especially, they seem likely to be very useful to British
Scouts, because they are very like British boys, except that they have
much more practice in woodcraft.

A large proportion of them live in wildish country, among the forests
and lakes, and so they know how to look after themselves; they are
nice, cheery fellows. They are very clean, and they speak the truth.
Well, that means a great deal, because you can trust a fellow who
speaks the truth, and, what is more, you can trust him to behave well
in danger or trouble.

I find that men who tell lies in peace time are not among the bravest
in war; and telling a lie is, after all, a bit of cowardice--the
fellow who tells it is afraid to speak the truth, or he hopes to get
something in return for what he says, if he can only get the other
fellow to see the question as he wants him to.

Well, that's a sneaking way of doing it. A manly fellow will speak
out, and always say exactly what he wants or what is the real state of
the case; he will be believed and will generally get his way. In any
case, show me a liar, and I can show you a "funk-stick."

       *       *       *       *       *

HOOKS AND POT-HOOKS.

You may be interested in a picture of our camp on the Allalaer River
in Norway. The shelter was rigged up with a waterproof sheet and a few
poles cut in the forest.

Inside this shelter you see our store-cupboard; in other words, a box
turned on end, with a bit of the lid made into a shelf. In this we
stored our bread, coffee, sugar, and such things.

Then down on the left of the sketch is a small log bridge over a
stream. Under this bridge we kept our milk, butter, and fish; it made
an excellent ice-cold larder.

Next we come to the chopping block, an old log on which we chopped
firewood into the right size. If you chop wood on the ground you will
very soon blunt your axe, so always use a chopping-block.

And when you have finished chopping, leave your axe sticking in the
block; this preserves its edge from getting rusty or knocked by
stones, etc. It also preserves your toes from getting cut by stumbling
over an axe in the dark.

[Illustration: MY CAMP ON THE ALLALAER RIVER IN NORWAY.]

Next we come to the important part of the camp--the fire. You see we
made the fire between two big flat stones. These were useful for
standing the frying-pan on, and cooking billies, etc. The fire is made
at the windward end of the channel, between the stones, so that the
heat blows into the channel, while the fire forms a pile of red-hot
embers outside, at which toast can be made.

Notice our automatic toast-makers, made of a forked stick and a small
supporting fork.

[Illustration: MY TOASTING-FORK.]

Then over the fire we had a crossbar of green wood (if you use old
wood it will catch fire and drop your pot into the fire just as the
stew is ready); it was supported on two stout, firmly-driven forked
stakes, not the wobbly, rickety things which tenderfoots like to put
up.

On the crossbar our kettle was hung by a pot-hook--just a hooked stick
with a good notch cut in it to take the handle of the kettle.

Also on the crossbar in the sketch you see our tongs. These are most
useful things for a camp-fire for lifting hot embers into the spot
where you want them for giving extra heat.

[Illustration: MY AUTOMATIC KETTLE-HOLDER.]

The tongs are made from a green stick of hazel, or alder, or birch.
The stick should be about 2 1/2 to 3 feet long. At the middle you cut
away a good bit of the wood from one side for about 4 inches. Then cut
a number of small notches across the grain of the wood to make it
still more bendable at the centre. Here's the side view of the centre
part of your stick.

[Illustration: THE TONGS BEFORE AND AFTER BEING BENT.]

Then flatten the inner sides of your stick towards both ends, so that
they get a better hold on things; bend the two ends together and there
you have your tongs:

Next to the tongs, in the sketch, you see a small branch of dwarf fir.
This makes a hearth-brush, which is very useful for keeping the fire
neat and clean.

The ordinary-looking stick leaning against the crossbar is an ordinary
sort of stick, but a very useful one. He is the poker and pot-lifter.
He should be a stout green stick not easily burnt. Poplar is a
difficult wood to burn, but then many old hands won't use it, because
it is said to bring bad luck on the camp-fire where it is used; but
that is an old wife's story, and I always use it when I get the
chance.

If the soup gets upset, I look on it as my fault, not the fault of the
poplar poker. In fact, whatever wood the poker is made of, one always
seems to get a kind of affection for him. He is only an ordinary ugly,
old half-burnt stick, but he is jolly useful and helpful.

On this side of the fire you see the pile of wood that has been
collected for fuel. It is generally the right thing when in camp for
each camper, when coming in, whether from bathing, or fishing, or
anywhere else, to bring with him some contribution to the wood-pile.

Different kinds of wood are needed for it.

First you want "punk" and "kindling"--that is, strips of birch-bark
(which are better than paper for starting a fire), dry fibre from the
inside of old dead trees, dry lichen or moss, anything that will start
a fire. And also small, dry splinters, chips, and twigs to give the
flame for lighting the bigger wood.

Secondly, you want lots of sticks, about 1/2 to 1 inch in thickness,
for making your cooking-fire of hot embers, or you can get bigger
logs, from which you can afterwards knock off, with our friend the
poker, red-hot embers for the cooking.

Remember, you don't want a great blazing fire for cooking, but one
that is all made of red-hot lumps.

For warming you up and giving a cheerful appearance to the camp at
night you can have any amount of big, dry branches and logs--the drier
the better for a good blaze.

Beyond the fire, in the sketch, you see our dining-table and seat.
This is a plank set across a hole in the ground, and the table is
another plank beyond it. That is one way of making a dining-table.

Another way to make seats and tables in camp, especially in a country
like this, where the forest is full of fallen timber, is to go and
look out for a suitable pine tree with branches so placed that by a
little lopping with an axe you can make a trestle like this:

[Illustration: HOME-MADE SEAT.]

Two such trestles can be made to support a few split saplings, or a
number of stout straight rods, which can then be nailed, spiked, or
lashed down with cross-battens to form a table; and more such trestles
can form the seats.

On the right of the sketch you see three forked uprights. These formed
our rack for holding fishing-rods and landing-nets.

The little tufts hanging on this rack are bunches of heather.

Did you ever hear the yarn of the Boy Scout who, at his school
examination in natural history, was asked, "What is heather?" He
replied, "Well, sir, it is what we clean the cooking-pots with in
camp."

He was quite right, though perhaps the examiner did not think so.

A few bunches of heather are most useful as dishcloths for cleaning
dishes and pots. The reason why they are hanging on the rod rack is
that they are handy for use in the scullery, which is that part of the
river close by the rack.

In using a river you always have certain spots told off to the
different uses. First and highest up-stream you get your drinking
water. Next is your handwashing place (not bathing place) and scullery
for washing plates and cooking-pots.

Below that is the refuse place, where you throw away scraps off the
plates and from cooking-pots, and gut your fish. This should be where
the stream will carry away the scraps and not slack water, where they
will collect.

Of course, this throwing of refuse into the river only does in a wild
country or where the river is big. In most English camps, all refuse
should be buried in a pit or burnt.

I think that describes the whole of our camp.

Oh, no, there is still one article--and one of great importance
Alongside the tent you see our camp besom or broom. It is made of a
few birch twigs bound together. (The long thin roots of the fir-tree
make very good cord.) This we used for sweeping the camp-ground every
morning when we tidied up.

When we left our camp, the last thing we did after everything was
packed ready for moving was to go round and tidy up the whole ground,
and burn all the scraps, chips, and twigs that were left on the
ground. So when we left it would have been difficult for a stranger to
say that anybody had been camped there except for the place where the
fire had been. But we left the cross-bars, pot-hooks, and wood-pile
there, so that anyone coming after us would find them ready for his
use.

[Illustration: A FISH CARRIER]

But I expect they will all have rotted away before any one else comes
that way to camp, for it is in an out-of-the-way corner where very few
travellers come.

Another hook I might, mention is one used for carrying your fish when
you have caught them. It is merely a twig cut from the nearest bush.

       *       *       *       *       *

A BOAT VOYAGE

I had heard of a wonderful gorge in the mountains to the west of us,
through which no man had ever passed, and George wanted to go "reeper"
shooting on the mountain slopes in that direction. (A "reeper" is a
Norwegian grouse.) So one fine morning found us starting in a boat to
row down the great lake, which would bring us to the foot of the
mountains.

This lake is about eight miles long, and one mile wide. Steep,
forest-clad hillsides run down to the lake on both sides, and there
are not half a dozen farms in sight of it, so we felt that we were
getting into wilder parts as soon as we had started on our voyage.

The boats here are only made for one pair of sculls to be used at a
time, so it came heavy on each of us in turn to have to row our
well-loaded ship with its cargo of two men, two dogs (Bruce and
Gordon), and all our luggage, guns, and ammunition.

[Illustration: "I Rigged up my oilskin coat as a sail, with George to
act as mast and rigging."]

Luckily for me, before it came to my turn to row, a good breeze sprang
up from behind us, so in a very short time I had rigged up my oilskin
coat as a sail, with George to act as mast and rigging, and I took an
oar to steer with.

In a very short time we found ourselves running along at double the
pace that we could have got by rowing.

On these lakes, though there are plenty of boats, you never see one
fitted with mast and sails for sailing. It is too dangerous; sudden
squalls come down from the hills and catch the sails the wrong way or
too violently, and so capsize the boat before the crew can do anything
to save her.

Even on ordinary water, no one but a tenderfoot would sail a small
boat with the "sheets" made fast; the men sailing the boat hold these
in their hands ready to ease them up at any moment should a squall
strike them. But the danger is much greater on a lake among mountains.

So you see a Scout needs to know something about sea scouting if he
wants to get about successfully in a country where he has to make use
of boats or canoes.

By using an oar as a rudder--which is also understood by Sea
Scouts--we found we could sail to some extent across the wind as well
as before it, and so we were able to get round headlands which came in
our way without having to lower sail and take to rowing.

Another thing to look out for on these mountain lakes is that a bit of
wind very quickly makes quite fair-sized waves, which, with a heavily
loaded boat, may lop in over the side, if your helmsman is not very
careful, and swamp the boat. So it is foolishness for any Scout to go
on this sort of expedition unless he can swim.

In fact, every Scout ought to be able to swim; he is no use till he
can, and he will always find it useful to know something of sea
scouting.

The oars of Norwegian boats are worked not in rowlocks, or crutches,
or between thole pins, as at home, but on a single thole pin, to which
they are attached by a "strop" or loop.

This is a useful dodge to know of in case one of your thole pins
breaks, as sometimes happens.

[Illustration: How the oars in Norwegian boats are worked.]

In Norway, the strop is made of a stick of birchwood (hazel does
equally well), which is first twisted and twisted round to such an
extent that it is as flexible and as strong as a length of rope, and
is tied by twisting its ends round itself, as shown in _Scouting for
Boys_.

A Scout should be able at any time to twist a stick into rope, but to
do it successfully he must know which kind of wood to pick out for it.
That is one reason for knowing the different kinds of trees by sight.

While we sailed along we trailed a line astern of us with some
tempting-looking flies on it in the hope that we might get a trout for
dinner.

Suddenly, just when we were in the middle of a busy time over a squall
of wind, there came a tug, tug, and a pull at our line. All was at
once excitement.

"Down mast and sail!" "Reel in the line!" "Hold the boat with the
oars!" "Don't let him break away!"

Steadily he is hauled, kicking and rolling over in the water, and at
last he is safely lifted into the boat--a fine, silvery, speckled
trout.

"What a dinner he will make!"

"How would you like him, grilled, fried, or boiled?"

Alas! we thought a good deal about what sort of dinner he would make.
And he did make a dinner, too--but not for us!

We presently heard Bruce crunching and munching something. He had not
waited for the fish to be fried, or grilled, or boiled. He just ate
him as he was. We only had bread and butter and coffee for dinner that
day--without any trout. We didn't even mention trout during the meal.
We didn't seem to want any, or we pretended we didn't.

Still, we had a very jolly dinner at a beautiful spot where we landed
on the shore of the lake. Then after a further bit of sailing and
rowing we reached the end of the lake.

Here we hauled up our boat high and dry, leaving all her gear in her,
for nobody steals things in Norway. We "humped our packs" on to our
backs, and, with rod and gun in hand and the dogs trotting alongside,
we started up the hills through the forest, bogs, and rocks, to get to
the farm three miles away, where we were to spend the night at the
foot of the mountains.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE JASJVOLD SAETER.

That means the name of the farm where we stopped, and we made it our
headquarters for several days.

"Saeter" means "summer farm." The Norwegian farmers are mostly dairy
and cattle farmers, and in the summer they take their herds up on to
the high ground for the grazing, and bring them back into the lower
and warmer valleys in winter.

Our farmer at Jasjvold was named Slackman; and he was a slack man to
look at--very wild and unkempt, with a tousled head of hair, and a
rough beard; clothed in a blue jumper, and breeches and rough
stockings, and carrying a big knife in his belt, he looked as if he
could and would willingly slit your throat while you were asleep; but
on Sundays he was a very different character.

[Illustration: THE JASJVOLD SAETER.]

Even away up here in the mountains, far away from any neighbours, he
did not forget to keep the Sabbath, and he appeared very clean and
smart, neatly dressed, with white collar and tie, hair and beard
trimmed, and altogether so different that at first glance I did not
recognise him on Sunday morning.

But, in spite of his wild week-day appearance, he was a most cheery,
kind-hearted man, always anxious to do good turns for us, and to help
us in every way. In the evenings he would come and sit with us, eager
to teach us Norwegian, and equally anxious himself to learn English.
So we got along splendidly together.

The saeter is a group of farm buildings; each one is a separate
single-storied log house. There is the farmer's house, the house for
guests (in which we lived), the men's house, the dairy, the bakehouse,
and the "staboor," which is a kind of hayloft, stable, and manure shed
all in one. Being built on the side of a hill, it has three storeys on
one side, and only one or two on the uphill side.

The hay is put into the top storey, and can be dropped down through a
trapdoor into the stable, which is on the second floor. Then the
stable is cleaned out through trapdoors, which let all the dirt fall
into the lower storey, from which it can be carted away to manure the
fields.

A curious thing about most of the Norwegian farms is that there are no
muddy cart tracks to be seen, the grass is green right up to the
doors. Then there are no chickens about the place, as a rule; nor are
there beehives, nor any garden. The carts are very small and low,
sometimes on wheels, sometimes on runners, as sledges. The harness is
very light, and yet strong; the driver walks behind the cart and
drives the horse with a long pair of rope reins.

[Illustration: THE CARTS ARE SMALL AND LOW.]

Our house in the saeter was, like all the others, a single-storied log
house, with a roof of planks covered with birchbark, over which is
spread a thick layer of earth, which soon becomes grass-grown, so that
it looks as if the roof were made of turf.

There were three or four rooms in the house, nice, clean rooms, with
comfortable beds, and a great big open fire hearth in the corner, in
which you light up your log fire whenever you like to have it--and we
liked it pretty nearly always, for at this height, nearly 4000 feet,
close to snow-clad mountains, the evenings and early mornings were
very cold.

On our door was a big lock, and a lock in this country is not boxed up
inside iron casing but is left open to view, so that you can see how
it works, and get your fingers pinched in it if you like to be
careless.

The farmer's wife, a kind, cheery, clean, motherly woman, was always
cooking up good things for us, and feeding us to such an extent that
if we had stopped there much longer we should have grown too fat to
carry out our expedition.

She didn't understand a word of English, but she used to stop her work
every now and then to come and hear us having our Norwegian lessons,
and she used simply to howl with laughing at our attempts to pronounce
the words the right way.

The food she used to give us is much the same as you get everywhere in
Norway. For breakfast, which is generally about nine or ten o'clock
(we persuaded her to give it to us much earlier), you have a cup of
coffee and two or three glasses of milk, home-made bread, and a kind
of thin oatmeal cake, butter, and goats'-milk cheese.

[Illustration: THE LOCK ON OUR DOOR.]

Dinner is usually about three in the afternoon, but we never had any,
as we were out all day, and took bread and coffee with us. Supper, at
nine o'clock, was much the same as breakfast, with the addition of
trout, or soup, and stewed fruit and cream, again with milk to drink.

There was one girl, who waited on us and did all the work of the
house. I never saw any servant do half as much as she did, and yet she
was always neat and clean and smiling.

She chopped our firewood, made our beds, greased our boots, waited at
table, scrubbed the floors, tables, and chairs every day. You never
saw a place so clean, If I were sitting at a table writing when she
was on the scrub, I was politely requested to lift my feet up while
she did the floor beneath them!

Then there was a boy at the saeter, who, though he could not speak a
word of English, was a very nice English-looking lad.

He was in charge of the pony and cart, and his two ponies were the
cheekiest, tamest things I have seen. They would follow you about like
dogs, and seemed to understand what you said to them. That was all due
to kind treatment by their young master.

This boy used to be sent off on long journeys over very rough country
in charge of the cart. Then sometimes he would milk the cows and
goats. Whenever he had any spare time he would take down his great
18-foot rod, and go fishing for trout, and generally he brought back
some good ones, too. Then he was a handy carpenter, and understood
mending a boat and sharpening tools on a grindstone. All these are
things which a Scout should be able to do, but I wonder how many of
them an ordinary boy in England can do.

Then, sharpening your tools is a very useful thing to practise for
putting an edge on to your axe or knife.

There is a saying among Sikh soldiers in India, when speaking of any
bad act, that it is "as disgraceful as having a blunt sword." A Sikh
always keeps his as sharp as a razor. It is a disgrace to him if it is
blunt.

So, too, a woodman would never be seen with a blunt axe or knife in
camp. He would never get through his work if he had them. Yet I often
see Boy Scouts go into camp with axes so blunt that they will cut
nothing, and their knives very little better. You don't know the
pleasure of handling an axe till you have used a really sharp one.

And then every Scout ought to know how to sharpen his own axe on a
grindstone. You must wet the stone first, and then get someone to turn
it, running the wheel away from you, while you lay the blade with its
back towards you, and its edge in the same direction as the wheel is
moving, and pass it gently on to the stone, doing each side of the
blade in turn a little at a time until the whole blade becomes bright,
especially at the cutting edge.

       *       *       *       *       *

EXPLORING THE GORGE.

You remember that George and I went to Jasjvold Saeter in order to get
some "reeper," and also to explore the gorge of which we had heard.

As you get higher up above the level of the sea, the nature of the
country and of the plants changes. In the lower level you get trees
and bushes and flowers very much like those in England, but as you
rise higher nothing but fir trees, pines, and birch trees seem to
grow. Then as you get up a bit the fir trees come to an end, and you
find only small birch trees, after which there are no trees.

You come out on the open moorland where there is heather, like that in
Scotland, and other small shrubs, one of which would interest boys
because it grows a very nice little fruit called "blue-berries." Above
the heather, that is, at a height of over 4000 feet, you get what is
called moss. This is really a kind of lichen like you see growing on
trees at home, a pale, yellowish-white, spongy kind of plant, which
seems to thrive on barren, rocky mountain sides, and forms feed for
the reindeer which run wild in these parts.

Well, George and I used to go out from the Saeter directly after
breakfast each day, carrying our ruksacks on our backs, and one of us
a gun and the other a fishing rod in his hand. And the dogs went with
us. In our ruksacks we carried a kettle, some bread, butter, and
coffee, and a change of shoes and stockings, for what with wading
through streams and stepping into bogs we were pretty wet about the
feet before the day was ended.

On the first day we went and discovered the head of the gorge, high up
on the mountain side, and each day after that we explored a new bit of
it till we had followed it down to where it opened on to the valley at
its foot.

The gorge was a deep cleft in the mountain-side of dark, frowning
cliffs, with a bright, clear mountain stream running along among the
rocks and stones at its bottom.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE TROUT STREAM.

The farmer had told us there were no fish in this stream, and nobody
ever fished there. However, I thought I might as well use my rod,
having brought it all the way there, so, pretending to myself that
there was a fish in a swirling little pool behind a great rock, I
crept and crawled to a spot from which I could, unseen by the fish,
throw my fly so that it could float quietly in the current and be
carried round the corner.

The first attempt from my crouching position was not a good one; the
line did not go out far enough, and merely got into a backwater and
drifted in close to me so I shortened it up by pulling in a handful or
two, and then shot it out again over the water.

This time it fell well out, the thin gut cast falling lightly as a
cobweb on the surface, and then sliding off with the current close
round the edge of the rock; and just as it went out of sight there was
a sudden tug and a steady hold on it! A rock 1 No. The next moment
there was a rush and a strain, the rod bending over and showing that a
really nice fish was on.

[Illustration: OUR DAILY EXCURSION.]

I won't tell you all the joy that followed in playing the fish till he
was exhausted, and then leading him to a smooth shallow, where, having
no landing-net, I could draw him steadily and quickly from the water
and up the shelving rock without breaking the delicate line. But I got
him! And after him we got many more, enough for all our meals. It was
a delightful trout stream, and I could only wish that every Scout in
the world were there to enjoy it, too.

One particular run of water pleased me particularly. The stream rushed
through an opening between some rocks, and then gradually opened over
a gravelly bed in a long, rippling current. The "tail of the run," as
they call it, is the place to expect fish, so I fished quickly over
the rapid part of the run, and went more gingerly when I got nearer to
the "tail," making my fly visit every inch of the water, and I was
quickly rewarded.

A sudden ting like an electric shock on my rod, and a heavy rushing
and jerking hither and thither, till gradually the fish exhausted
himself, and I was able to hold him and gradually tow him up on the
shelving beach. Out of that one pool we got no fewer than fourteen
trout that day! Of course, we only kept those we wanted for food, and
slid the others back into the water, alarmed, but not hurt.

       *       *       *       *       *

STALKING.

After a few miles the gorge got deeper and deeper and more and more
narrow, until it ran between high cliffs which could not be climbed,
and the stream became a torrent running between the high rocks, so
that progress was impossible along the bottom.

We were, therefore, obliged to keep up on the mountainside above the
cliffs and make our way along in the same direction as the gorge,
occasionally looking down into it to see its wonderful scenery.

On steep parts of the mountain we had to clamber along as best we
could, and sometimes it was jumpy work, where, if you kicked aside a
loose stone, you could see it go bounding away down into the gloomy
gorge below. At other times we were walking on beautifully soft moss,
into which our feet sank for several inches; in fact, after a time,
with a good load on our backs we began to wish it was not quite so
soft! But it made our going very quiet and silent, and we kept a sharp
look-out for game.

At one time George was leading the way when we came to a slight rise
in front. Like a good scout, he never came to a rise without checking
his pace and peeping very carefully over it before going on. This he
did more from habit than from any expectation of seeing anything the
other side, but it is a most valuable habit, and one which every good
scout has. On this occasion it proved its value.

George dropped flat on the ground, and, taking the warning from him,
I, too, "squatted" at once, and made the dogs lie down. I did not know
whether we had an elk or rabbit in front of us, but presently George
crept back to me and reported that there were some duck on a pool a
short distance ahead.

He, being the gun-bearer, then started to stalk these duck by going a
long way round, keeping behind hillocks and rocks until he could get
near enough to be within shot of them. It took him a long time.

[Illustration: "George dropped flat on the ground, and, taking the
warning from Him, I, too, squatted at once, and made the dogs lie
down."]

He had a good look at the ground first from our hiding-place, and he
noted any peculiar rocks or bushes which would serve as guides to him
while he was carrying out his stalk, and off he went, creeping and
crawling from one landmark to the next, until at last he wriggled up
to the bush which he had guessed would bring him within shot of the
birds.

When he got there, he peeped through the stems of the bush, and found
that it was not so close as he had hoped--it was scarcely within
gunshot; but the duck had already some suspicion that all was not
well. They are the cleverest birds alive; they had all stopped
feeding, were looking anxiously about, and were beginning to swim
away.

George saw that his only chance was to risk a long shot if we were
going to have any dinner that day, so, pushing his gun through the
bush, he fired at the nearest duck, and, immediately jumping to his
feet, he fired again at another, which by this time was on the
wing--and he killed both.

Of course the dogs and I both hurried down to him in great jubilation.
There were two good fat ducks floating on the little lake. But how
were we to get them? Neither of the dogs was a water dog, and the lake
was really a wet bog, in which a man could neither swim nor wade.

Luckily, there was a breeze blowing, so we went round to the lee side
and sat down to wait for the birds to drift to us. Slowly they came
nearer and nearer, but it was very slow work. It became slower and
slower as the breeze dropped and at last died away when they were not
twenty yards away.

[Illustration: "FISHING" FOR DUCK.]

Then George--again as a good scout would--invented a plan. He took my
rod and began to fly-fish for the ducks! That is, he threw the line
over a duck, and then gently drew it in so that the hook caught in the
bird's feathers. In this way he "caught" both of them in turn and
dragged them ashore.

From the open high ground we gradually descended to lower heights.
First we came among scattered birch trees, and below these we entered
pine and fir woods, and through them we came steadily down to the
level of the valley in which lay the great lake.

Just before getting to the valley we dipped once more into our gorge
where it finally left the mountains, and it was a grand sight. The
cliffs rose sheer up a hundred feet on either side, even overhanging
in some places, and the opening between the cliffs was quite narrow,
where the stream in a dense body of water rushed its way through in a
roaring cascade. It was a magnificent scene.

Just below the cascade the gorge opened out, and the stream spread
itself over a shallow, stony bed, in many courses, till it joined the
main river in the valley.

George and I clambered down the last cliff, and close to the cascade I
made the fire while he went and caught a couple of trout for lunch (we
were going to keep those duck for supper at the saeter), and we were
very glad of the lunch and a rest.

Then we turned for home by a new road, walking round the foot of the
mountain over whose back we had come. But we turned for home in
another sense, for that was the turning point of my trip in Norway; I
had to go back home to England from there.

On our way back we passed great swamps where there were duck, but we
had had enough of them to last us for the present.

In one part of the swamp we came upon the spoor of elk. The elk, you
know, is a great big stag--the same as a moose in Canada; a very lanky
animal, as big as a horse, with a very blobby nose, and heavy,
flat-spread antlers.

It was, of course, very good to learn that there really were elk in
the neighbourhood, but it only made me the more unhappy at having to
leave the country. George, who had no Boy Scouts demanding his
presence, was going to stay on there, so everything that made me more
sad made him all the happier--the unfeeling brute!

Still, I can't complain. I think in the few weeks that I was in Norway
I had had as good a time as anyone could possibly have. There is no
better fun on earth than living in the open and catching and cooking
your own grub, in doing mutual good turns with a good comrade in camp,
and in recognising God's handiwork in the mountains and forests around
you.

       *       *       *       *       *

HOW TO FISH.

George and I would have gone pretty hungry in our camp and on our
tramps while in Norway had we not both been able to catch fish, for
there was little else in the woods to eat besides blue-berries (we
were now too high up for the wild raspberries which are so good in the
valleys).

Every Scout must know how to fish, otherwise he would feel so silly if
he died of starvation alongside a stream full of trout. And
fishing--like shooting, or cooking, or swimming, or anything else--is
not a thing that you can do straight off without having practised it
beforehand; so my advice to Tenderfoots is to take every chance of
learning how to fish, so that they may be able to do it when they may
be in need of fish for food.

Sea fishing, as you know, is generally

Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/6673