WOODCRAFT
Woodlore
By Ernest Thompson Seton, Chief Scout
The Watch for a Compass
(From “Boy Scouts of America,” by Ernest Thompson Seton. Copyright, 1910, by Doubleday, Page & Company )
The watch is often used to give the compass point exactly. Thus: Point the hour-hand to the sun; then, in the morning, half-way between the hour-hand and noon is due south. If afternoon, one must reckon half-way backward.
Thus: at 8 A. M., point the hour-hand to the sun and reckon forward half-way to noon; the south is at 10. If at 4 P. M., point the hour-hand at the sun and reckon back half-way. The south is at two o’clock.
The “half-way” is because the sun makes a course of twenty-four hours and the clock of but twelve. If we had a rational timepiece of twenty-four hours, it would fit in much better with all nature, and with the hour-hand pointed to the sun would make 12 o’clock, noon, always south.
If you cannot see the sun, get into a clear, open space, hold your knife point upright on your watch dial, and it will cast a faint shadow, showing where the sun really is, unless the clouds are very heavy.
Finding Your Latitude by the Stars
The use of the stars to the scout is chiefly to guide him by showing the north, but the white man has carried the use a step farther: he makes the Pole-star tell him not only where the north is, but where he himself is. From the Pole-star, he can learn his latitude.
It is reckoned an exploit to take one’s latitude from the North Star with a cart-wheel, or with two sticks and a bucket of water.
The first attempt I made was with two sticks and a bucket of water. I arranged the bucket in the daytime, so that it could be filled from rim to rim; that is, it was level, and that gave me the horizon line; next, I fastened my two sticks together at an adjustable angle. Then, laying one stick across the bucket as a base, I raised the other till the two sight notches on its upper edge were in straight line for the Pole-star. The sticks were now fastened at this angle and put away till the morning. On a smooth board–the board is allowable because it can be found either far on the plains when you have your wagon, or on the ship at sea–I mapped out, first a right angle, by the old plan of measuring off a triangle, whose sides were six, eight, and ten inches, and applied the star angle to this. By a process of equal subdivision I got 45 degrees, 22-1/2 degrees, finally 40 degrees, which seemed to be the latitude of my camp; subsequent looking-up showed it to be 41 degrees 10 minutes.
To make a scout’s sundial, prepare a smooth board about fifteen inches across, with a circle divided into twenty-four equal parts, and a temporarily hinged pointer, whose upper edge is in the middle of the dial. Place on some dead level, solid post or stump in the open. At night fix the dial so that the twelve o’clock line points exactly to north, as determined by the Polestar. Then, using two temporary sighting sticks of exactly the same height (so as to permit sighting clear above the edge of the board) set the pointer exactly pointing to the Pole-star; that is, the same angle as the latitude of the place, and fix it there immovably. Then remove the two sighting sticks. As a timepiece, this dial will be found roughly correct for that latitude. The angle of the pointer, or style, must be changed for each latitude.
Building a Log Cabin
(From Country Life in America. May, 1905 )
There are as many different kinds of log cabins as of any other architecture. It is best to begin with the simplest. The tools needed are a sharp ax, a crosscut saw, an inch auger, and a spade. It is possible to get along with nothing but an ax (many settlers had no other tool), but the spade, saw, and auger save much work.
For the site select a high, dry place, in or near the woods, and close to the drinking-water. It should be a sunny place, and with a view, preferably one facing south or east. Clear off and level the ground. Then bring your logs. These are more picturesque with the bark left on, but last longer peeled. Eight feet by twelve feet outside makes a good cabin for three or four boys.
Cut and carry about twelve logs, each ten feet long; and twelve more, each fourteen feet long. The logs should be at least six inches through. Soft wood is preferable, as it is easier to handle; the four ground logs or sills, at least, should be of cedar, chestnut, or other wood that does not rot. Lay two of the fourteen-foot logs on the ground, at the places for the long sides, and seven feet apart. Then across them, at the end, lay two short ones, eleven feet apart. This leaves about a foot projecting from each log. Roll the last two into their resting places, and flatten them till they sit firmly. It is of prime importance that each log rest immovably on the one below. Now cut the upper part of each end log, to an edge over each corner. (Fig. 1.)
Next put on two long logs, roll them onto the middle, taking care to change off, so the big end at a given comer may be followed next time by the small end and insure the corner rising evenly. Roll one of these large logs close to where it is to be placed, then cut on its upper surface at each end a notch corresponding with the ridge on the log it is to ride on. When ready, half a roll drops it into place. The log should be one to three inches above the one under it, and should not touch except at {61} the ends. Repeat the process now with the other sides, then the two ends, etc., always keeping the line of the corner plumb. As the walls rise, it will be found necessary to skid the larger logs; that is, roll them up on two long logs, or skids, leaning against the wall. (Fig. 2.)
When the logs are in place to the height of four and a half feet from the ground, it is time to decide where the door and window are to be; and at that place, while the next long log is lying on top, bottom up, cut out a piece four feet long and four inches deep. Roll this log into place. (Fig. 3.) One more log above this, or certainly two, will make your shanty high enough for boys. Put on final end logs, then two others across the shanty. (Fig. 4.) Roll up the biggest, strongest log of all for the ridge (sometimes two are used side by side); it should lie along the middle of the four cross pieces shown in Fig. 4.
The two cross logs, B and C, and the ridge log should be very strong, as the roof is heavy. Now we are ready to cut the doorway and window.
First, drive in blocks of wood between each of the logs, all the way down from A to the ground, and from B down to D, and C to E. (Fig. 5.) Saw down now from A half-way through the ground log F. Then from B down to half-way through the log D; now continue from G, cutting down to half through the ground log. Use the ax to split out the upper half of the ground log, between the saw-cuts and also the upper half of the log D.
Hew a flat piece of soft wood, five or six inches wide, about two inches thick, and as long as the height of this doorway. Set it up against the ends of the logs A to F. Bore an auger hole through it into the end of each log (these holes must not be in line lest they split the jamb), including the top and bottom ones, and drive into each a pin of oak. This holds all safely. Do the same on the other side, H to E, and put a small one down B, D, which is the side of the window.
Now we are ready to finish the roof. Use the ax to bevel off the corners of the four cross-logs, A and B. (Fig. 6.) Then get a lot of strong poles, about five feet long, and lay them close together along the two sides of the roof till it is covered with poles; putting a very heavy one, or small log, on the outer edge of each, and fastening it down with a pin into the ridge log. Cut two long poles and lay one on each of the lower ends of the roof poles, as at A, B, and C (Fig. 7), pinning them to the side logs.
Cover this roof with a foot of hay or straw or grass, and cover {62} that again evenly with about four inches of stiff clay. Pack this down. It will soon squeeze all that foot of straw down to little more than one inch, and will make a warm and water-tight roof. As the clay is very heavy, it is wise, before going inside, to test the roof by jumping on it. If it gives too much, it will be well to add a centre prop.
Now for the door: Hew out planks; two should be enough. Fasten these together with two cross-pieces and one angle-piece, using oak pegs instead of nails, if you wish to be truly primitive. For these the holes should be bored part way with a gimlet, and a peg used larger than the hole. The lower end of the back plank is left projecting in a point. (Fig. 8.) This point fits into a hole pecked with a point or bored with an auger into the door-sill.
Bore another hole near the top of the door (A), and a corresponding one through the door-jamb between two logs. Set the door in place. A strip of rawhide leather, a limber willow branch, or a strip of hickory put through the auger hole of the door and wedged into the hole in the jamb, makes a truly wild-wood hinge. A peg in the front jamb prevents the door going too far out, and a string and peg inside answer for a latch.
The window opening may be closed with a glass sash, with a piece of muslin, or with the rawhide of an animal, scraped clear of hair and stretched on a frame.
It now remains to chink and plaster the place.
Chinking is best done from the inside. Long triangular strips and blocks of wood are driven in between the logs and fastened there with oak pins driven into the lower log till nothing but small crannies remain. Some cabins are finished with moss plugged into all the crannies, but mud worked into plaster does better.
It should be put on the outside first, and afterward finished form the inside. It is best done really with two plasterers working together, one inside and one out.
This completes the shanty, but a bunk and fireplace are usually added.
The fireplace may be in one corner, or in the middle of the end. It is easiest to make in the former.
Across the corner, peg three angle braces, each about three feet long. These are to prevent the chimney falling forward.
Now begin to build with stone, using mud as mortar, a fireplace this shape. (Fig. 9.) Make the opening about eighteen inches across; carry it up two feet high, drawing it in a little, then lay a long stone across the front, after which build up {63} the flue behind the corner braces right up to the roof. The top corner-piece carries the rafter that may be cut off to let the flue out. Build the chimney up outside as high as the highest part of the ridge.
But the ideal fireplace is made with the chimney on the outside of the cabin, at the middle of the end farthest from the door. For this you must cut a hole in the end log, like a big, low window, pegging a jamb on the ends as before.
With stones and mud you now build a fireplace inside the shanty, with the big chimney carried up outside, always taking care that there are several inches of mud or stone between the fire and any of the logs.
In country where stone cannot be found, the fireplace is often built of mud, sustained by an outside cribbing of logs.
If the flue is fair size, that is, say one quarter the size of the fireplace opening, it will be sure to draw.
The bunk should be made before the chinks are plastered, as the hammering is apt to loosen the mud.
Cut eight or ten poles a foot longer than you need the bunk; cut the end of each into a flat board and drive these between the long logs at the right height and place for the bunk, supporting the other end on a crosspiece from a post to the wall. Put a very big pole on the outer side, and all is ready for the bed; most woodsmen make this of small fir boughs.
There are two other well-known ways of cornering the logs–one is simply flattening the logs where they touch. This, as well as the first one, is known in the backwoods of Canada as hog-pen finish. The really skilful woodsmen of the North always dovetail the comers and saw them flush: (Fig. 10)
Sometimes it is desirable to make a higher gable than that which one ridge log can make. Then it is made thus: (Fig. 11.) This is as much slope as a clay roof should have; with any more, the clay would wash off.
This is the simplest way to build a log-cabin, but it illustrates all the main principles of log building. Shingle roofs and gables, broad piazzas outside, and modern fitting inside, are often added nowadays in summer camps, but it must be clear that the more towny you make the cabin, the less woodsy it is, and less likely to be the complete rest and change that is desired.
For fuller instructions, see “Log-Cabins and Cottages.” By. Wm. S. Wicks, 1900. (Pub. Forest and Stream, N. Y.) {64} Also, “The Jack of All Trades.” By Dan C. Beard, Scribner’s; and “Field and Forest Handy Book.”
Measuring Distances
(See “Two Little Savages,” 1903.)
The height of a tree is easily measured when on a level, open place, by measuring the length of its shadow, then comparing that with your own shadow, or that of a ten-foot pole.
Thus, the ten-foot pole is casting a fifteen-foot shadow, and the tree’s shadow is one hundred and fifty feet long, apply the simple rule of three.
15 : 150 :: 10 : x = 100
But it is seldom so easy, and the good old rule of the triangle can be safely counted on: Get a hundred or more feet from your tree, on open ground, as nearly as possible on the level of its base. Set up a ten-foot pole (A B, page 65). Then mark the spot where the exact line from the top of the tree over the top of the pole touches the ground (C). Now measure the distance from that spot (C) to the foot of the ten-foot pole (B); suppose it is twenty feet. Measure also the distance from that spot (C) to the base of the tree (D); suppose it is one hundred and twenty feet, then your problem is:
20 : 10 :: 120 : x = 60
i.e., if at that angle twenty feet from the eye gives ten feet elevation, one hundred and twenty feet must give sixty.
To make a right angle, make a triangle whose sides are exactly six, eight, and ten feet or inches each (or multiples of these). The angle opposite the ten must be a true right angle.
There are many ways of measuring distance across rivers, etc., without crossing. The simplest, perhaps, is by the equilateral triangle. Cut three poles of exactly equal length; peg them together into a triangle. Lay {65} this on the bank of the river so one side points to some point on the opposite bank. Drive in three pegs to mark the exact points of this triangle (A,B,C). Then move it along the bank until you find a place (F,E,G) where its base is on line with the two pegs, where the base used to be, and one side in line with the point across the river (D). The width of the river is seven eighths of the base of this great triangle.
Another method is by the isosceles triangle. Make a right-angled triangle as above, with sides six, eight, and ten feet (A,B,C); then, after firmly fixing the right angle, cut down the eight-foot side to six feet and saw off the ten-foot side to fit. Place this with the side D B on the river bank in line with the sight object (X) across. Put three pegs to mark the three {66} corner places. Then take the triangle along the bank in the direction of C until C’ D’ are in line with the sight object, while B’ C’ is in line with the pegs B C. Then the length of the long base B C’ will equal the distance from B to X.
To measure the space between two distant objects, D and E. Line A B on one, then move this right-angled triangle until F G is lined on the other, with B G in line with G H. B G equals the space between D and E then.
If the distance is considerable, it may be measured sometimes by sound. Thus, when a gun is fired, a man is chopping, or a dog barking, count the seconds between the sight and the hearing of the sound, and multiply by eleven hundred feet, which is the distance sound travels in a second.
Occasionally, the distance of an upright bank, cliff, or building can be measured by the echo. Half the seconds between shout and echo, multiplied by eleven hundred gives the distance in feet.
The usual way to estimate long distances is by the time they take to cover. Thus, a good canoe on dead water goes four to five miles an hour. A man afoot walks three and a half miles an hour on good roads. A packtrain goes two and a half miles an hour, or perhaps one and a half on the mountain trails.
A man’s thumb is an inch wide.
Span of thumb and longest finger, nine inches. Brisk walking pace is one yard for men.
What To Do When Lost in the Woods
(Ladies’ Home Journal, October, 1902.)
“Did you ever get lost in the woods?” I once asked a company of twenty campers. Some answered, “Yes; once or twice.” Others said, “Many a time.” Only two said, “No, never.” Then I said, turning to the two, “I know that all the others here have had plenty of experience, and that you two are the tenderfeet, and never lived in the woods.”
It is quite certain to come sooner or later; if you go camping, you will get lost in the woods. Hunters, Indians, yes, birds and beasts, get lost at times. You can avoid it for long by always taking your bearings and noting the landscape before leaving the camp, and this you should always do; but still you will get lost some time, and it is well to be ready for it by carrying matches, knife, and compass.
When you do miss your way, the first thing to remember is, like the Indian, “You are not lost; it is the teepee that is lost.” It isn’t serious. It cannot be so unless you do something foolish.
The first and most natural thing to do is to get on a hill, up a tree, or other high lookout, and seek for some landmark near camp. You may be sure of this much:
You are not nearly so far from camp as you think you are. Your friends will soon find you.
You can help them best by signaling.
The worst thing you can do is to get frightened. The truly dangerous enemy is not the cold or the hunger so much as the fear. It is fear that robs the wanderer of his judgment and of his limb power; it is fear that turns the passing experience into a final tragedy. Only keep cool and all will be well.
If there is snow on the ground, you can follow your back track.
If you see no landmark, look for the smoke of the fire. Shout from time to time, and wait; for though you have been away for hours it is quite possible you are within earshot of your friends. If you happen to have a gun, fire it off twice in quick succession on your high lookout; then wait and listen. Do this several times and wait plenty long enough–perhaps an hour. If this brings no help, send up a distress signal–that is, make two smoke fires by smothering two bright fires with green leaves and rotten wood, and keep them at least fifty feet apart, or the wind will confuse them. Two shots or two smokes are usually understood to mean “I am in trouble.” Those in camp on seeing this should send up one smoke, which means, “Camp is here.”
If you have a dog or a horse with you, you may depend upon it he can bring you out all right; but usually you will have to rely on yourself. The simplest plan, when there is fresh snow and no wind, is to follow your own track back. No matter how far around or how crooked it may be, it will certainly bring you out safely.
If you are sure of the general direction to the camp and determined to keep moving, leave a note pinned on a tree if you have paper; if not, write with charcoal on a piece of wood, and also make a good smoke, so that you can come back to this spot if you choose. But make certain that the fire cannot run, by clearing the ground around it and by banking it around with sods. And mark your course by breaking or cutting a twig every fifty feet. You can keep straight by the sun, the moon, or the stars, but when they are unseen you must be guided by the compass. I do not believe much in guidance by what are called nature’s compass signs. It is usual to say, for example, that the north side of the tree has the most moss or the south side the most limbs, etc. While these are true in general, there are so many exceptions that when alarmed and in doubt as to which is north, one is not in a frame of mind to decide with certainty on such fine points.
If a strong west wind, for example, was blowing when you left camp, and has blown ever since, you can be pretty sure it is still a west wind; but the only safe and certain natural compass guides are the sun, moon, and stars.
The Pole or North Star, and the Great Bear (also called the Dipper and the Pointers), should be known to every boy as they are to every Indian. The Pointers always point out the {69} Pole-star. Of course, they go around it once in twenty-four hours, so this makes a kind of clock.
The stars, then, will enable you to keep straight if you travel. But thick woods, fog, or clouds are apt to come up, and without something to guide you are sure to go around in a circle.
Old woodsmen commonly follow down the streams. These are certain to bring you out somewhere; but the very worst traveling is along the edges of the streams, and they take you a long way around. All things considered, it is usually best to stay right where you are, especially if in a wild country where there is no chance of finding a farm house. Make yourself comfortable for the night by gathering plenty of good wood while it is daylight, and building a wind screen on three sides, with the fire in front, and something to keep you off the ground. Do not worry but keep up a good fire; and when day comes renew your two smokes and wait. A good fire is the best friend of a lost man.
I have been lost a number of times, but always got out without serious trouble, because I kept cool. The worst losing I ever got was after I had been so long in the West that I qualified to act as a professional guide, and was engaged by a lot of Eastern farmers looking for land locations.
This was in the October of 1883 on the Upper Assiniboin. The main body of the farmers had remained behind. I had gone ahead with two of them. I took them over hundreds of miles of wild country. As we went northward the country improved. We were traveling with oxen, and it was our custom to let them graze for two hours at noon. One warm day, while the oxen were feeding, we went in our shirt sleeves to a distant butte that promised a lookout. We forgot about the lateness till the sun got low. Even then I could have got back to camp, but clouds came up and darkness fell quickly. Knowing the general direction I kept on, and after half an hour’s tramp we came to a canyon I had never seen before. I got out my compass and a match and found that I had been circling, as one is sure to do in the dark. I corrected the course and led off again. After another brief turn I struck another match and learned from the compass that I was again circling. This was discouraging, but with corrected course we again tramped. I was leading, and suddenly the dark ground ten feet ahead of me turned gray. I could not make it out, so went cautiously nearer. I lay down, reached forth, and then slowly made sure that we were on the edge of a steep precipice. I backed off, {70} and frankly told the men I did not know where we were. I got out my match box and compass and found I had but one match left.
“Any of you got any matches?” I asked. “No; left ’em all in our coats,” was their answer.
“Well,” said I, “I have one. Shall I use it to get a new course from the compass, or shall we make a fire and stay here till morning?”
All voted to camp for the night. There was now a cold rain.
We groped into a hollow where we got some dead wood, and by using our knives got some dry chips from the inside of a log. When all was ready we gathered close around, and I got out the one match. I was about to strike it when the younger of the men said:
“Say, Seton, you are not a smoker; Jack is. Hadn’t you better give him that match?”
There was sense in this. I have never in my life smoked. Jack was an old stager and an adept with matches. I handed it to him. “Rrrp-fizz”–and in a minute we had a fire.
With the help of the firelight we now found plenty of dead wood; we made three blazing fires side by side, and after an hour we removed the centre one, then raked away all the hot ashes, and all lay down together on the warm ground. When the morning came the rain ceased. We stretched our stiffened limbs and made for camp. Yes, there it was in plain view two miles away across a fearful canyon. Three steps more on that gloomy night and we should have been over the edge of that canyon and dashed to the bottom.
How to Make Fire by Rubbing Sticks
“How do the Indians make a fire without matches?” asked a boy who loved to “play Indian.” Most of us have heard the answer to this. “The Indians use a flint and steel, as our own fathers and mothers did one hundred years ago, and before they had flint and steel they used rubbing-sticks.” We have all read about bringing fire out of two sticks by rubbing them together. I tried it once for an hour, and I know now I never would have got it in a thousand years as I was doing it. Others have had the same experience; consequently, most persons look upon this as a sort of fairy tale, or, if they believe it to be true, they think it so difficult as to be worth no second thought. All scouts, I find, are surprised and greatly interested to learn that not only is it possible, it is easy, to make a friction {71} fire, if you know how; and hopeless, if you don’t. I have taught many boys and men (including some Indians) to do it, and some have grown so expert that they make it nearly as quickly as with an old-fashioned sulphur match. When I first learned from Walter Hough, who learned from the Indians, it took me from five to ten minutes to get a blazing fire–not half an hour, as some books have it. But later I got it down to a minute, then to thirty-one seconds from the time of taking up the rubbing-sticks to having a fine blaze, the time in getting the first spark being about six seconds.
My early efforts were inspired by book accounts of Indian methods, but, unfortunately, I have never yet seen a book account that was accurate enough to guide anyone successfully in the art of fire-making. All omit one or other of the absolute essentials, or dwell on some triviality. The impression they leave on those who know is that the writers did not.
The surest and easiest method of making a friction fire is by use of the bow-drill. Two sticks, two tools, and some tinder are needed.
The two sticks are the drill and the fire-board, or fire-block. The books generally tell us that these must be of different kinds of wood. This is a mistake. I have uniformly gotten the best results with two pieces of the same kind–all the better, indeed, if they are parts of the same stick.
What Kind of Wood
This is a very important question, as woods that are too hard, too soft, too wet, too oily, too gummy, or too resinous will not produce fire. The wood should be soft enough to wear away, else it produces no punk, and hard enough to wear slowly, or the heat is not enough to light the punk, and, of course, it should be highly inflammable. Those that I have had the best luck with are balsam fir, cottonwood roots, tamarack, European larch, red cedar, white cedar, Oregon cedar, basswood, cypress, and sometimes second-growth white pine. It should always be a dry, sound stick, brash, but not in the least punky.
In each part of the country there seems to be a kind of wood well suited for fire-making. The Eastern Indians used cedar; the Northern Indians, cedar or balsam fir; the plains Indians used cottonwood or sage-brush roots.
Perhaps the most reliable of all is dry and seasoned balsam fir; either the species in the North woods or in the Rockies will do. It gives a fine big spark or coal in about seven seconds.
When in the grinding the dust that runs out of the notch is coarse and brown, it means that the wood is too soft; when it is very fine and scanty it means that the wood is too hard.
1. The simplest kind of bow; a bent stick with a stout leather thong fastened at each end. It is about 27 inches long and 5/8 inch thick.
2. A more elaborate bow with a hole at each end for the thong. At the handle end it goes through a disc of wood. This is to tighten the thong by pressure of the hand against the disc while using.
3. Simplest kind of drill-socket; a pine or hemlock knot with a shallow hole or pit in it. 3a is under view of same. It is about 4-1/2 inches long.
4. A more elaborate drill-socket; a pebble cemented with gum in a wooden holder. 4a is under view of same.
5. A very elaborate drill-socket; it is made of tulip wood, carved to represent the Thunderbird. It has eyes of green felspar cemented in with resin. On the under side (5a) is seen, in the middle, a soapstone socket let into the wood and fastened with pine gum, and on the head a hole kept filled with grease, to grease the top of the drill before use.
6. The drill; 12 to 18 inches long and about 3/4 inch thick; it is roughly eight-sided so the thong will not slip, and pointed at each end. The best wood for the drill is old, dry brash, but not punky, balsam fir or cottonwood roots; but basswood, white cedar, red cedar, tamarack, and sometimes even white pine, will do.
7. Fire-board or block; about 3/4 inch thick and any length handy; a is notch with pit just begun, b shows the pit after once using and in good trim for second time, c shows the pit bored through and now useless; the notch is 1/2 inch wide and 3/4 inch deep.
8. Shows the way of using the sticks. The block (a) is held down with one foot, the end of the drill (b) is put in the pit, the drill-socket (c) is held on top in left hand, one end of the bow (d) is held in the right hand, while the bow is drawn back and forth.
9. Is a little wooden fire-pan, not essential but convenient; its thin edge is put under the notch to catch the powder that falls.
I have made many experiments to determine whether there is anything in the idea that it is better to have the block and the drill of different woods.
But no hybrid combination was so successful as “two of a kind.”
The drill and the bow and socket are fully described in the illustration.
The preparing of the fire-board is one of the most important things. At the edge cut a notch half an inch wide and about three fourths of an inch deep; at the top of this notch make a pit or shallow hole, and the board is ready. The importance of this notch is such that it is useless to try fire-making without it.
While these are the essentials, it is well to get ready, also, some tinder. I have tried a great many different kinds of lint and punk, including a number that were artificially prepared, soaked with saltpetre or other combustibles. But these are not really fair play. The true woodcrafter limits himself to the things that he can get in the woods, and in all my recent fire-making I have contented myself with the tinder used for ages by the red men: that is, cedar wood finely shredded between two stones. Some use the fringes that grow on birch, improving it by rubbing in powdered charcoal.
Now that he has the tools and material ready, it will be an easy matter for the matchless castaway to produce a fire.
Pass the leather thong once around the drill–and this should make the thong taut; put the lower point of the drill in the pit at the top of the notch in the fire-board, and hold the socket with the left hand on top of the drill. The notch of the fire-board should be resting on a chip or thin wooden tray. Hold the bow by the handle end in the right hand, steady the board under the left foot, and the left arm against the left knee. Now draw the bow back and forth with steady, even strokes, its full length. This causes the drill to turn in the pit and bore into the wood; ground-up wood runs out of the side of the notch, falling on the chip or tray. At first it is brown; in two or three seconds it turns black, and then smokes; in five or six seconds it is giving off a cloud of smoke. A few more vigorous strokes of the bow, and now it will be found that smoke still comes from the pile of black wood-dust on the chip. Fan this gently with the hand; the smoke increases, and in a few seconds you see a glowing coal in the middle of the dust. (There are never any visible flying sparks.)
Now take a liberal pinch of the cedar tinder–about a teaspoonful; wrap this in some bark fibre or shredded rope to {74} keep it from blowing away. Hold it down on the coal, and, lifting tray and all, blow or fan it until in a few seconds it blazes. Carefully pile over it the shreds of birch bark or splinters of fat pine prepared beforehand, and the fire is made.
If you have the right wood and still cannot get the fire, it is likely because you do not hold the drill steady, or have not cut the side notch quite into the middle point of the little fire pit.
The advantages of learning this method are threefold:
First: Fire-making by friction is an interesting experiment in woodcraft.
Second: A boy is better equipped having learned it. He can never afterward freeze to death for lack of matches if he has wood and an old shoe lace.
Third: For the very reason that it is difficult, compared with matches, it tends to prevent the boys making unnecessary fires, and thus reduces the danger of their setting the woods ablaze or of smoking the forbidden cigarette.
There is such a fascination in making the rubbing-stick fire that one of my Western cooks, becoming an expert, gave up the use of matches for a time and lit his morning fire with the fire-drill, and, indeed, he did not find it much slower than the usual way.
Walter Hough told me a story of an Apache Indian who scoffed at the matches of white men, and claimed that he could light a fire with rubbing-sticks faster than Hough could with matches. So each made ready. They were waiting for the word “go” when the Indian said:
“Wait. I see if him right.” He gave a few strokes with the drill, and called–“Stop–stop him no good.” He rearranged the sticks, and tried a few more strokes. Just as Mr. Hough was going to strike the match, he said: “Stop–stop him no good.” He did this three times before he called “Ready.” Then the word “Go” was given. The white man struck the slow, sizzling match. The Indian gave half a dozen twirls to the drill–the smoke burst forth. He covered it with the tinder, fanned a few seconds, then a bright flame arose, just before the white man got his twigs ablaze. So the Indian won, but it was by an Indian trick; for the three times when he pretended to be trying it, he was really warming up the wood–that is, doing a large part of the work. I am afraid that, deft as he was, he would have lost in a fair race. Yet this incident shows at least that, in point of speed, the old rubbing-sticks are not very far behind the matches, as one might have supposed.
It is, indeed, a wonder that the soldiers at West Point are not taught this simple trick, when it is so easily learned, and might some day be the one thing to save the lives of many of them.
Archery
No woodcraft education is complete without a knowledge of archery. It is a pity that this noble sport has fallen into disuse. We shall find it essential to some of our best games.
The modern hunting gun is an irresistible weapon of wholesale murder, and is just as deadly no matter who pulls the trigger. It spreads terror as well as death by its loud discharge, and it leaves little clew as to who is responsible for the shot. Its deadly range is so fearfully great as to put all game at the mercy of the clumsiest tyro. Woodcraft, the oldest of all sciences and one of the best, has steadily declined since the coming of the gun, and it is entirely due to this same unbridled power that America has lost so many of her fine game animals.
The bow is a far less destructive weapon, and to succeed at all in the chase the bowman must be a double-read forester. The bow is silent and it sends the arrow with exactly the same power that the bowman’s arm puts into it–no more, no less–so it is really his own power that speeds the arrow. There is no question as to which hunter has the right to the game or is responsible for the shot when the arrow is there to tell. The gun stands for little skill, irresistible force supplied from an outside source, overwhelming unfair odds, and sure death to the victim. The bow, on the other hand, stands for all that is clever and fine in woodcraft; so, no guns or fire-arms of any kind are allowed in our boy scout camp.
The Indian’s bow was short, because, though less efficient, it was easier to carry than a long one. Yet it did not lack power. It is said that the arrow head sometimes appeared on the far side of the buffalo it was fired into, and there is a tradition that Wah-na-tah, a Sioux chief, once shot his arrow through a cow buffalo and killed her calf that was running at the other side.
But the long bow is more effective than the short one. The old English bowmen, the best the world has ever seen, always shot with the long bow.
The finest bows and arrows are those made by the professional makers, but there is no reason why each boy should not make his own.
According to several authorities the best bow woods are mulberry, osage-orange, sassafras, Southern cedar, black locust, {76} apple, black walnut, slippery elm, ironwood, mountain ash, hickory, California yew, and hemlock.
Take a perfectly sound, straight, well-seasoned stick five or six feet long (your bow should be about as long as yourself); mark off a five-inch space in the middle for the handle; leave this round and a full inch thick; shave down the rest, flat on one side for the front and round on the other for the back, until it is about one inch wide and three fourths of an inch thick next the handle, tapering to about one half that at the ends, which are then “nocked,” nicked, or notched as shown in Cut I. These notches are for the string, which is to be put on early. Draw the bow now, flat side out, not more than the proper distance, and note carefully which end bends the most; then shave down the other side until it bends evenly. The middle scarcely bends at all. The perfect shape, when bent, is shown in Cut II. Trim the bow down to your strength and finish smoothly with sandpaper and glass. It should be straight when unstrung, and unstrung when not in use. Fancy curved bows are weak affairs. The bow for our boy should require a power of fifteen or twenty pounds (shown on a spring balance) to draw the string twenty-three inches from the bow; not more. The best string is of hemp or linen; it should be about five inches from the middle of the bow when strung (Cut II). The notches for the string should be two-thirds the depth of the string. If you have not a bought string make one of strong, unbleached linen thread twisted together. At one end the string, which is heaviest at the ends, should be fast knotted to the bow notch (Cut V); at the other it should have a loop as shown in Cut IV. In the middle it should be lashed with fine silk and wax for five inches, and the exact place marked where the arrow fits it.
The arrow is more important than the bow. Anyone can make a bow; few can make an arrow, for, as a Seminole Indian expressed it to Maurice Thompson, “Any stick do for bow; good arrow much heap work, ugh.” Hiawatha went all the way to Dakota to see the famous arrow maker. In England when the bow was the gun of the country, the bow maker was called a “bowyer,” and the arrow maker a “fletcher” (from the Norman fleche, an arrow). So when men began to use surnames those who excelled in arrow making were proud to be called the “Fletchers “; but to make a good bow was not a notable achievement, hence few took “Bowyer” as their name.
The first thing about an arrow is that it must be perfectly straight. “Straight as an arrow” refers to the arrow itself, not to its flight; that is always curved.
| I. | The five-foot bow as finished, with sections at the point shown. |
| II. | The bow “braced” or strung. |
| III. | The bow unstrung, showing the loop slipped down. |
| IV. | The loop that is used on the upper end of the bow. |
| V. | The timber hitch always used on the lower end or notch of the bow. |
| VI. | A turkey feather with split midrib, all ready to lash on. |
| VII. | End view of arrow, showing notch and arrangement of three feathers. |
| VIII. | Part of arrow, showing feathering and lashing. |
| IX. | Sanger hunting arrow with wooden point; 25 inches long. |
| X. | Sanger war arrow with nail point and extra long feathers; it also is 25 inches long. |
| XI. | Quiver with Indian design; 20 inches long. |
| XII. | The “bracer” or arm guard of heavy leather for left arm with two laces to tie it on. It is six inches long. |
The Indians made arrows of reeds and of straight shoots of viburnum or arrow-wood, and of elder, but we make better arrows out of the solid heartwood of hard pine for target use, and of hickory or ash for hunting. The arrow should be twenty-five inches long, round, and three eighths of an inch thick, and have three feathers set as shown in Cut VI, about an inch from the notch. The feather B, that stands out at right angles to notch A, should always be away from the bow in shooting. This is called the cock-feather, and it is usually marked or colored in some way to be quickly distinguished.
CORRECT FORM IN SHOOTING.
The diagram at bottom is to show the centres of heels in line with target.
Turkey and goose wing feathers are the best that grow in our country for arrow feathers. The Indians mostly use turkey. With a sharp knife cut a strip of the midrib on which is the vane of the feather; make three pieces, each two to three inches long. White men glue these on to the arrow. The Indians leave the midrib projecting at each end and by these lash the {79} feathers without gluing. The lashed feathers stand the weather better than those glued, but do not fly so well. The Indians use sharp flint arrow heads for war and for big game, but for birds and small game they make arrow heads with a knob of hard wood or the knuckle bone of some small animal. The best arrow heads for our purpose are like the ferrule of an umbrella top; they receive the end of the shaft into them and keep it from splitting.
One of the best arrows I ever shot with was twenty-eight inches long, five sixteenths of an inch thick, had a ferrule head and very small feathers.
The finishing touch of an arrow is “painting” it. This is done for several purposes: First, to preserve it from damp which would twist the arrow and soften the glue that holds the feathers; second, each hunter paints all his arrows with his mark so as to know them; third, they are thus made bright-colored to help in finding them when lost.
There are four other things required by our archer: A smooth, hard arm-guard, or bracer, usually of hard leather. The Indians who use one make it of wood, grass, or rawhide. In photographs of famous Indians you may often see this on the left wrist, and will remember that it was there as a protection from the blow of the bow cord. Some archers can shoot with the wrist bent so as to need no guard. The three middle fingers of the right hand also need protection. An old leather glove, with thumb and little finger cut away, will do very well for this, though the ready-made tips at the archery stores are more convenient. Some archers who practise all their lives can shoot without protecting the fingers.
The bow case and quiver are important. Any kind of a cover that will keep them from the rain, and hang on your back, will do, but there are many little things that help to make them handy. When the cover is off the arrows should project three or four inches so that they may be more easily drawn out. The Indians often carried very beautiful quivers of buckskin ornamented with quills and beads.
One day out West I saw an Omaha brave with a bow case and quiver covered with very odd material–a piece of common red and white cotton print. When allowed to examine it, I felt some other material underneath the print. After a little dickering he sold me bow, arrows, quiver, and all for a couple of dollars. I then ripped open the print and found my first suspicions confirmed; for, underneath, the quiver was of buckskin, beautifully embroidered with red feathers and porcupine {80} quills of deep red and turquoise blue. The Indian was as much puzzled by my preference for the quill work as I was by his for the cotton print.
The standard target for men is four feet across with a nine-inch bull’s-eye, and around that four rings, each four and three quarter inches wide. The bull’s-eye counts nine, the other rings seven, five, three, one. The bought targets are made of straw, but a good target may be made of a box filled with sods, or a bank covered with sacking on which are painted the usual rings.
Now comes the most important point of all–how to shoot. There are several ways of holding an arrow, but only one good one. Most boys know the ordinary finger and thumb pinch, or grip. This is all very well for a toy bow, but a hunter’s bow cannot be drawn that way. No one has strength enough in his fingers for it. The true archer’s grip of the arrow is shown in the cut. The thumb and little finger have nothing to do with it.
The archer’s grip
As in golf and all such things, there is a right “form.” You attend to your end of the arrow’s flight and the other will take care of itself:
Stand perfectly straight. Plant your feet with the centres of the two heels in line with the target. (Cut page 78.) Grasp the bow in the middle with the left hand and place the arrow on the string at the left side of the bow. Hold the bow plumb, and draw as above till the notch of the arrow is right under your eye, and the head of the arrow back to the bow. The right elbow must be in the same line with the arrow. Let go the arrow by straightening the fingers a little, turning the hand outward at the bottom and drawing it back one inch. Always do this in exactly the same way and your shooting will be even. Your left hand should not move a hair’s breadth until the arrow strikes the target.
To begin shooting put the target very near, within fifteen or twenty yards; but the proper shooting distance when the archer is in good practice is forty yards for a four-foot target and thirty yards for a three-foot target. A good shot, shooting twelve arrows at this, should score fifty.
The Indians generally used their bows at short range, so that it was easy to hit the mark. Rapid firing was important. In their archery competitions, therefore, the prize was given to the one who could have the most arrows in the air at once. Their record, according to Catlin, was eight.
The Stars
As Seen With the Naked Eye
The chief works referred to in this are C. Flammarion’s “Popular Astronomy” (Gore’s translation), and Garrett P. Serviss’s “Astronomy with an Opera Glass.” (Those who wish to go farther a-sky are referred to these books.)
Whether he expects to use them as guides or not, every boy should learn the principal constellations and the important stars. A non-scientific friend said to me once: “I am always glad that I learned the principal star groups when I was young. I have never forgotten them, and, no matter in what strange country I find myself, I can always look up at night, and see the old familiar stars that shone on me in my home in my own country.”
All American boys know the Dipper or Great Bear. This is, perhaps, the most important star group in our sky, because of its size, peculiar form, and the fact that it never sets in our latitude, and last, that it always points out the Pole-star, and, for this reason, it is sometimes known as the Pointers. It is called the Dipper because it is shaped like a dipper with a long, bent handle. Why it is called the Great Bear is not so easy to explain. The classical legend has it that the nymph Calisto, having violated her vow, was changed by Diana into a bear, which, after death, was immortalized in the sky by Zeus. Another suggestion is that the earliest astronomers, the Chaldeans, called these stars “the shining ones,” and their word happened to be very like the Greek arktos (a bear). Another explanation (I do not know who is authority for either) is that vessels in olden days were named for animals, etc. They bore at the prow the carved effigy of the namesake, and if the Great Bear, for example, made several very happy voyages by setting out when a certain constellation was in the ascendant, that constellation might become known as the Great Bear’s constellation. Certainly, there is nothing in its shape to justify the name. Very few of the constellations, indeed, are like the thing they are {82} called after. Their names were usually given for some fanciful association with the namesake, rather than for resemblance to it.
The Pole-star is really the most important of the stars in our sky; it marks the north at all times; it alone is fixed in the heavens: all the other stars seem to swing around it once in twenty-four hours. It is in the end of the Little Bear’s tail. But the Pole-star, or Polaris, is not a very bright one, and it would be hard to identify but for the help of the Dipper, or Pointers.
The outside (Alpha and Beta) of the Dipper points nearly to Polaris, at a distance equal to three and one half times the space that separates these two stars of the Dipper’s outer side.
Various Indians call the Pole-star the “Home Star,” and “The Star that Never Moves,” and the Dipper they call the “Broken Back.”
The last star but one in the Dipper, away from the pole–that is, the star at the bend of the handle,–is known to astronomers as Mizar, one of the Horses; Just above it, and tucked close in, is a smaller star known to astronomers as Alcor, or the Rider. The Indians call these two the “Old Squaw and the Pappoose on Her Back.” In the old world, from very ancient times, these have been used as tests of eyesight. To be able to see Alcor with the naked eye means that one has excellent eyesight. So also on the plains, the old folks would ask the children at night, “Can you see the pappoose on the old squaw’s back?” And when the youngster saw it, and proved that he did by a right description, they rejoiced that he had the eyesight which is the first requisite of a good hunter.
The Great Bear is also to be remembered as the Pointers for another reason. It is the hour-hand of the woodman’s clock. It goes once around the North Star in about twenty-four hours, the same way as the sun, and for the same reason–that it is the earth that is going and leaving them behind.
The time in going around is not exactly twenty-four hours, so that the position of the Pointers varies with the seasons, but, as a rule, this for woodcraft purposes is near enough. The bowl of the Dipper swings one and one half times the width of the opening (i.e., fifteen degrees) in one hour. If it went a quarter of the circle, that would mean you had slept a quarter of a day, or six hours.
Each fifteen days the stars seem to be an hour earlier; in three months they gain one fourth of the circle, and in a year gain the whole circle.
According to Flammarion, there are about seven thousand stars visible to the naked eye, and of those but nineteen are stars of the first magnitude. Thirteen of them are visible in the latitude of New York, the other six belong to the South Polar Region of the sky. Here is Flammarion’s arrangement of them in order of seeming brightness. Those that can be seen in the Southern Hemisphere only, are in brackets:
| 1. | Sirius, the Dog-star. |
| 2. | [Canopus, of Argo.] |
| 3. | [Alpha, of the Centaur.] |
| 4. | Arcturus, of Bootes. |
| 5. | Vega, of the Lyre. |
| 6. | Rigel, of Orion’s foot. |
| 7. | Capella, of Auriga. |
| 8. | Procyon, or the Little Dog-star. |
| 9. | Betelguese, of Orion’s right shoulder. |
| 10. | [Beta, of the Centaur.] |
| 11. | [Achernar, of Eridanus.] |
| 12. | Aldebaran, of Taurus, the Bull’s right eye. |
| 13. | Antares, of Scorpio. |
| 14. | [Alpha, of the Southern Cross.] |
| 15. | Altair, of the Eagle. |
| 16. | Spica, of Virgo. |
| 17. | Fomalhaut, of the Southern Fish. |
| 18. | [Beta, of the Southern Cross.] |
| 19. | Regulus, of the Lion. |
Orion
Orion (O-ri-on), with its striking array of brilliant stars, Betelguese, Rigel, the Three Kings, etc., is generally admitted to be the finest constellation in the heavens.
Orion was the hunter giant who went to Heaven when he died, and now marches around the great dome, but is seen only in the winter, because, during the summer, he passes over during daytime. Thus he is still the hunter’s constellation. The three stars of his belt are called the “Three Kings.”
Sirius, the Great Dog-star, is in the head of Orion’s hound, and following farther back is the Little Dog-star, Procyon. In old charts of the stars, Orion is shown with his hound, hunting the bull, Taurus.
Pleiades
Pleiades (Ply-a-des) can be seen in winter as a cluster of small stars between Aldebaran and Algol, or, a line drawn from the back bottom, through the front rim of the Dipper, about two Dipper lengths, touches this little group. They are not far from Aldebaran, being on the shoulder of the Bull, of which Aldebaran is the right eye. They may be considered the seven arrow wounds made by Orion. They are nearer the Pole-star than Aldebaran is, and on the side away from the Dipper; also, they are nearly on a line between Beta of the Dipper (front bottom) and Capella.
Serviss tells us that the Pleiades have a supposed connection with the Great Pyramid, because “about 2170 B. C., when the beginning of spring coincided with the culmination of the Pleiades at midnight; that wonderful group of stars was visible {85} just at midnight, through the mysterious southward-pointing passage of the Pyramid.”
The Moon
The moon is one fifth the diameter of the earth, about one fiftieth of the bulk, and is about a quarter million miles away. Its course, while very irregular, is nearly the same as the apparent course of the sun. But “in winter the full moon is at an altitude in the sky near the limit attained by the sun in summer, . . . and even, at certain times, five degrees higher. It is the contrary in summer, a season when the moon remains very low” (F.).
The moon goes around the earth in 27-1/4 days. It loses nearly three fourths of an hour each night; that is, it rises that much later.
BIRDCRAFT
By the National Association of Audubon Societies
Any boy who cares enough for out-doors to be a scout is sure to want a good acquaintance with the birds. Even dull people cannot help taking notice of our “little brothers of the air,” on account of their beauty, their songs, and their wondrous flight. But most folks never take the trouble to try and learn the names of any except a few common birds. Scouts whose eyes are sharp and ears are keen will find the study of birds a fascinating sport, which may prove to be the best fun that the woods provide.
Knowing the Birds
It is no easy matter, this trying to get to know the birds; but scouts are not looking for the easiest jobs, and it is great sport for them to follow some shy songster through the briery thicket until a really good look can be had, to sit stock still for half an hour to watch some unknown bird come home to her nest, or to wriggle on all fours through the grass to have a glimpse over the top of the knoll at the ducks in the pool beyond.
The only equipment necessary for bird study is an opera or field glass, a note-book and a good bird reference book. As soon as you get a good look at a strange bird, notice its colors and markings, and then, if it moves, follow it up until you have seen practically all of its most prominent features. It will be impossible to carry these facts in your head, and unless some definite memorandum is made at the time you will probably {86} be hopelessly perplexed when you go to consult the bird book later. As it is hard to jot down satisfactory notes in the field, while catching fleeting glances of some timid bird, a handy little booklet has been prepared in which observations can be recorded very rapidly. These can be procured for fifteen cents apiece from the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City.
Each booklet contains outline figures of the five leading types of birds: (1) small perching birds, (2) hawks, (3) snipes, (4) herons, (5) ducks. On the page opposite is a list of numbers corresponding to colors. You can quickly mark on the outline the proper numbers, and note with your pencil any marks on the bird. Then check the other data on the page, add any additional memoranda, and you have your “bird in the hand,” ready to take back and look up at your leisure.
Careful Observation
Notice particularly the “range” of the birds in your reference book, and eliminate all those not stated as occurring in your territory. Notice too, dates of the birds’ coming and going, and do not expect to find species at any other time of year than within the dates mentioned. By thus narrowing down the possibilities the task is much simplified. As a final resort, the National Association of Audubon Societies stands ready to help all scouts who are positively “stumped,” and if the descriptive slips are mailed with return envelopes to the secretary of the association, 1974 Broadway, New York City, an identification will be made, if the information furnished renders it in any way possible.
The next time you see a bird that you have once identified, you will probably remember its name, and in this way you will be surprised to find how rapidly your bird acquaintance will grow. After a time even the flight of a bird or its song will be enough to reveal an old acquaintance, just as you can often recognize a boy friend by his walk or the sound of his voice, without seeing his face. And what a new joy in life there is for anybody that really knows the birds about him. He can pick from the medley of bird songs the notes of the individual singers; he knows when to look for old friends of the year before; no countryside is ever lonely for him, for he finds birds everywhere and knows that any moment he may make some rare discovery or see a bird before unknown to him.
Bird Lists
A scout should make a list of all the birds he has positively identified. This is his “life list” and is added to year by year. In addition he will keep daily lists of the birds seen on special trips in the field. Two or more patrols can enjoy a friendly rivalry by covering different regions and seeing which can observe the largest variety of birds. Hundreds of well-known {88} ornithologists often have the fun of this kind of competition, sending in their lists to a central bureau. As many as one hundred and twenty different kinds of birds have been counted in a single day by one energetic band of bird-lovers. Such a list is, however, attainable only under exceptionally favorable circumstances and by skilled observers who know their country thoroughly. For most scouts, thirty to forty species on a summer day, and fifty to sixty during the spring migration, would be regarded as a good list.
Bob-white at feeding station
Nesting Season
Undoubtedly the most interesting season to study birds is during the nesting period which is at its height in June. It takes a pair of sharp eyes to find most birds’ nests in the first place, and once found, there are dozens of interesting little incidents which it is a delight to watch. Only a foolish scout would rob himself of his chance to observe the secrets of nest life by stealing the contents, or would take any delight in piling up a collection of egg shells whose value at its best is almost nothing, and whose acquisition is necessarily accompanied by {89} genuine heart pangs on the part of the rightful owners. It is more exciting to try to hide yourself near the nest so skilfully that the birds will carry on their domestic duties as though you were not near. A blind made of green cloth and set up near the nest like a little tent will often give opportunity for very close observation. It is surprising how near many birds will allow one to come in this way. Even though the blind looks very strange and out of place, the birds soon seem to get used to it, so long as it is motionless and the inmate cannot be seen. A simple type of blind can be constructed by sewing the edges of long pieces of green cloth together, drawing in the top with a cord, and then draping it over an open umbrella.
Bird blind
How to Photograph
From such a hiding place, photographs can often be secured of timid birds at their nests. In attempting to take photographs it must be remembered that cameras of the pocket variety or fixed box type are almost useless. Most of them cannot be worked without special attachments at closer range than six feet, and, even if the focus is correctly guessed, the image is apt to be very small. In this work it is far better to invest in a cheap camera (second-hand if need be) with which one can obtain a definite image on the ground glass where the plate or film is to be. Focus the camera on some spot where it is expected the bird will come; usually this is on the nest or young, sometimes it is the food, a favorite perch, or some form of decoy. The next requisite is patience. If the coveted opportunity arrives, set off the shutter by hand in the {90} blind, or, where this is not possible, by means of a long thread, after carefully hiding the camera with boughs, leaves, sods, etc.
How to Know
An idea of the details of a bird’s life which a scout may come to know, may be had from the following table:
| 1. | Description. (Size, form, color, and markings.) |
| 2. | Haunts. (Upland, lowland, lakes, rivers, woods, fields. etc.) |
| 3. | Movements. (Slow or active, hops, walks, creeps, swims, tail wagged, etc.) |
| 4. | Appearance. (Alert, listless, crest erect, tail drooped, etc.) |
| 5. | Disposition. (Solitary, flocking, wary, unsuspicious, etc.) |
| 6. | Flight. (Slow, rapid, direct, undulating, soaring, sailing, flapping, etc.) |
| 7. | Song. (Pleasing, unattractive, long, short, loud, faint, sung from the ground, from a perch, in the air, etc. Season of song.) |
| 8. | Call notes. (Of surprise, alarm, protest, warning, signaling, etc.) |
| 9. | Season. (Spring, fall, summer, winter, with times of arrival and departure and variations in numbers.) |
| 10. | Food. (Berries, insects, seeds, etc.; how secured.) |
| 11. | Mating. (Habits during courtship.) |
| 12. | Nesting. (Choice of site, material, construction, eggs, incubation, etc.) |
| 13. | The young. (Food and care of, time in the nest, notes, actions, flight, etc.) |
So varied is a bird’s life that there is still plenty to be learned about even our common birds. It is quite possible for a scout to discover some facts that have never yet been published in books.
Red-breasted nuthatch
What One Boy Did
A boy once originated the idea of varying the usual “bird’s nesting” craze into a systematic study of the breeding of our common birds. In one spring he found within the limits of a single village one hundred and seventy robins’ nests. “One hundred were in suitable situations on private places, forty-one were in woods, swamps and orchards, eight were placed under bridges (two being under the iron girders of the railroad bridge), four were {91} in quarries, sixteen were in barns, sheds, under piazzas, etc., and one was on the ground at the foot of a bush.”
In addition to searching out the birds in their natural haunts, there is a great fascination in trying to attract them to our homes. During winter evenings boy scouts can busy themselves making nesting boxes. Even an old cigar box or a tomato can with a hole in it the size of a quarter will satisfy a house wren. Other boxes which are suitable for bluebirds, chickadees, tree swallows, purple martins, and starlings, will, if set up in March, often have tenants the very first season. In many cases it is feasible to have hinged doors or sides on the nesting boxes, so that they may occasionally be opened and the progress of events within observed. It is needless to add, however, that great caution must be exercised to prevent desertion of the nest, or other disturbance of the birds’ home life. Under favorable circumstances, even some of the shyer inhabitants of the woods, such as woodpeckers, owls, and ducks can be induced to patronize artificial cavities, if they are made right and erected right.
Downy woodpecker
Observation box, open
Caring for Birds
Another way of attracting birds in summer is by providing drinking and bathing places. A little artificial pool protected from cats, will be a source of joy to the birds and of delight to the observer from morning to night. Apply to the {92} National Association of Audubon Societies for information as to where ready-made nest boxes and fountains can be procured, also books on this subject, as well as on the subject of making friends of the birds through feeding.
House wren and tomato-can house
Birch-bark house
The Bird Lunch Counter
How best to feed the birds is almost an art in itself. A winter lunch counter spread with suet, nuts, hemp seed, meat, and crumbs will attract nuthatches, chickadees, downy and hairy woodpeckers, creepers, blue jays, etc. Canary seed, buckwheat, oats and hay-chaff scattered on the ground beneath will provide an irresistible banquet for other feathered boarders. A feeding place of this sort can be arranged for convenient observation from a window, and afford no end of diversion and instruction. But whether close to home or far afield, the great secret of success in such work is regularity. Begin to put the food out early in November, and let the birds get to know that they are always sure to find a supply of dainties in a certain spot, and the news will soon spread among them. In wintry weather, especially, it is amazing what can be accomplished by feeding the birds regularly, and at least the following birds have been induced to feed from the human hand: chickadee, white-breasted nuthatch, red-breasted nuthatch, brown creeper, Carolina wren, cardinal, evening grosbeak, tufted titmouse, Canada jay, Florida jay, Oregon jay, and redpoll. Even in spring untiring patience has resulted in the gratification of this supreme ambition of the bird-lover, and bluebird, robin, cat-bird: chipping sparrow, oven-bird, brown thrasher and yellow-throated vireo have been known to feed from the hand of a trusted friend, even with plenty of food all around. What scout can add to this list?
Protecting the Birds
Many a boy thinks that just because a bird is alive and moves it is a proper target for his air rifle or his sling shot. {93} Let us be thankful that there has now arisen a new class of boys, the scouts, who, like the knights of old, are champions of the defenceless, even the birds. Scouts are the birds’ police, and wo betide the lad who is caught with a nest and eggs, or the limp corpse of some feathered songster that he has slaughtered. Scouts know that there is no value in birds that are shot, except a few scientific specimens collected by trained museum experts. Scouts will not commend a farmer for shooting a hawk or an owl as a harmful bird, even though it were seen to capture a young chicken. They will post themselves on the subject and find that most hawks and owls feed chiefly on field mice and large insects injurious to the farmer’s crops, and that thus, in spite of an occasional toll on the poultry, they are as a whole of tremendous value. The way the birds help mankind is little short of a marvel. A band of nuthatches worked all winter in a pear orchard near Rochester and rid the trees of a certain insect that had entirely destroyed the crop of the previous summer. A pair of rose-breasted grosbeaks were seen to feed their nest of youngsters four hundred and twenty-six times in a day, each time with a billful of potato-bugs or other insects. A professor in Washington counted two hundred and fifty tent caterpillars in the stomach of a dead yellow-billed cuckoo, and, what appeals to us even more, five hundred bloodthirsty mosquitoes inside of one night-hawk.
White-breasted nuthatch
Bluebird at entrance of nesting-box
It must not be forgotten that large city parks are among the best places for observing birds. As an example of what can be accomplished, even with limited opportunities, there was a boy who happened to know where some owls roosted. {94} Now all owls swallow their prey whole, and in digesting this food they disgorge the skulls, bones, fur, and feathers in the form of hard dry pellets. This boy used to go out on Saturday or Sunday afternoon and bring home his pockets full of pellets, and then in the evening he would break them apart. In this way he learned exactly what the owls had been eating (without killing them) and he even discovered the skulls of certain field mice that naturalists had never known existed in that region. He let the owl be his collector.
Patrol Work
It is a good idea to keep at patrol headquarters a large sheet on the wall, where a list of the year’s bird observations can be tabulated. Each time a new bird is seen, its name is added, together with the initial of the observer, and after that its various occurrences are noted opposite its name. The keenest eyed scouts are those whose initials appear most frequently in the table. In addition, the tables will show the appearance and relative abundance of birds in a given locality. For patrols of young boys, a plan of tacking up a colored picture of each bird, as soon as it is thoroughly known, has been found very successful, and the result provides a way to decorate the headquarters.
Such pictures can be obtained very cheaply from the Perry Pictures Co., Boston, Mass., or the National Association of Audubon Societies, 1974 Broadway, New York City.
MOLLUSCA–Shells and Shellfish
By Dr. William Healey Dall, of the United States Geological Survey
Fig. 1
White lipped snail (Polygyra albolabris)
Among the shy and retiring animals which inhabit our woods and waters, or the borders of the sea, without making themselves conspicuous to man except when he seeks the larger ones for food, are the mollusca, usually confounded with crabs and crayfish under the popular name of “shellfish,” except the few which have no external shell, which are generally called slugs. Hardly any part of the world (except deserts) is without them, but, shy as they are, it takes pretty sharp eyes to find them. Some come out of their hiding places {95} only at night, and nearly all our American kinds live under cover of some sort.
The mollusks can be conveniently divided into three groups: those which inhabit fresh water, those which breathe air and live on dry land, and lastly those which are confined to the sea. The land shells, or snails, have generally thin shells of spiral form and live upon vegetable matter, many of them laying small eggs which look like minute pearls. Their hiding places are under leaves in shady or moist places, under the bark of dead trees or stumps, or under loose stone. They creep slowly and are most active after rain. Some of our larger kinds are an inch or two in diameter, (see Fig. 1., the white-lipped) but from this size there are others diminishing in size to the smallest, which are hardly larger than the head of a pin, In collecting them the little ones may be allowed to dry up. The big ones must be killed in boiling water, when the animal can be pulled out with a hook made of a crooked pin, leaving the shell clean and perfect. The slugs are not attractive on account of the slime which they throw out and can only be kept in spirits. Some of the species found in California are as large as a small cigar, but those of the states east of the Rocky Mountains are smaller and have mostly been introduced from Europe, where they do a lot of mischief by eating such garden plants as lettuce.
Many of the fresh-water snails are abundant in brooks and ponds, and their relations, the fresh-water mussels, are often very numerous in shallow rivers. They have a shell frequently beautifully pearly, white or purple, and sometimes have the brown outer skin prettily streaked with bright green.
Fig. 2 Whelk (Buccinum umatum)
Fig. 3 Pond snail (Lymnaea palustris)
The principal fresh-water snails are the pond snail (Lymnaea; see Fig. 3); the Physa (see Fig. 6), which is remarkable for having the coil turned to the left instead of the right; and the orb-snail, (Planorbis: see Fig. 4) which has its coil flat. All of {96} these lay minute eggs in a mass of transparent jelly, and are to be found on lily pads and other water plants, or crawling on the bottom, while the mussels bury themselves more or less in the mud or lie on the gravelly bottom of streams. There is also a very numerous tribe of small bivalve shells, varying from half an inch to very minute in size, which are also mud lovers and are known as Sphaerium or Pisidium, having no “common” English names, since only those who hunt for them know of their existence.
On the seashore everybody knows the mussel (Mytilus: see Fig. 5), the soft clam, the round clam, and the oyster, as these are sought for food; but there is a multitude of smaller bivalves which are not so well known. The sea-snails best known on the coast north of Chesapeake Bay are the whelk (Buccinum: see Fig. 2), the sand snail or Natica, which bores the round holes often found in clam shells on the beach, in order to suck the juices of its neighbors, and the various kinds of periwinkles (rock snails or Littorina) found by the millions on the rocks between tides. These, as well as the limpets, small boat-shaped or slipper-shaped conical shells found in similar places, are vegetable feeders. Altogether, there are several hundred kinds found on the seashore and the water near the shore, and a collection of them will not only contain many curious, pretty, and interesting things, but will have the advantage of requiring no preservative to keep them in good condition after the animal has been taken out.
Fig. 4 Orb-Shell (Planorbis trivolvis)
Fig. 5 Black Mussel (Mytilus)
Fig. 6 Bubble snail (Physa heterostropha)
The squids, cuttle-fishes, octopus, and their allies are also mollusks, but not so accessible to the ordinary collector, and can only be kept in spirits.
Books which may help the collector to identify the shells he may find are:
For the land and fresh-water shells:
“Mollusks of the Chicago Area” and “The Lymnaeidae of North America.” By F. C. Baker. Published by the Chicago Academy of Sciences.
For the American Marine Shells: Bulletin No. 37. Published by the United States National Museum, at Washington.
For shells in general: “The Shell Book.” Published by Doubleday, Page & Co., Garden City, N.Y.
On the Pacific Coast the “West Coast Shells,” by Prof. Josiah Keep of Mills College, will be found very useful.
REPTILES
By Dr. Leonhard Stejneger, Curator National Museum
By reptiles we understand properly a certain class of vertebrate or backboned animals, which, on the whole, may be described as possessing scales or horny shields since most of them may be distinguished by this outer covering, as the mammals by their hair and the birds by their feathers. Such animals as thousand-legs, scorpions, tarantulas, etc., though often erroneously referred to as reptiles, do not concern us in this connection. Among the living reptiles we distinguish four separate groups, the crocodiles, the turtles, the lizards, and the snakes.
The crocodiles resemble lizards in shape, but are very much larger and live only in the tropics and the adjacent regions of the temperate zone. To this order belongs our North American alligator, which inhabits the states bordering the Gulf of Mexico and the coast country along the Atlantic Ocean as far north as North Carolina. They are hunted for their skin, which furnishes an excellent leather for traveling bags, purses, etc., and because of the incessant pursuit are now becoming quite rare in many localities where formerly they were numerous. The American crocodile, very much like the one occurring in the river Nile, is also found at the extreme southern end of Florida.
The turtles are easily recognized by the bony covering which encases their body, and into which most species can withdraw their heads and legs for protection. This bony box is usually covered with horny plates, but in a large group, the so-called soft-shell turtles, the outer covering is a soft skin, thus forming a {98} notable exception to the rule that reptiles are characterized by being covered with scales or plates. While most of the turtles live in fresh water or on land, a few species pass their lives in the open ocean, only coming ashore during the breeding season to deposit their eggs. Some of these marine turtles grow to an enormous size, sometimes reaching a weight of over eight hundred pounds. One of them is much sought for on account of the delicacy of its flesh; another because of the thickness and beauty of its horny plates which furnish the so-called tortoise-shell, an important article of commerce. Turtles appear to reach a very old age, specimens having been known to have lived several hundred years. The box tortoise of our woods, the musk turtles, the snapping turtles are familiar examples of this order, while the terrapin, which lives in brackish ponds and swamps along our sea-coasts, is famous as a table delicacy.
Harlequin snake
The lizards are four-legged reptiles, usually of small size, living on the ground or in the trees, out very rarely voluntarily entering water. The so-called water lizards are not lizards at all, but belong to the salamanders and are distinguished by having a naked body not covered with scales. Most of the true lizards are of very graceful form, exceedingly quick at running; others display the most gorgeous coloration which, in many of them, such as the chameleons, changes according to the light, or the temperature, or the mood of the animal. Not all of them have four legs, however, there being a strong tendency to develop legless species which then externally become so much like snakes that they are told apart with some difficulty. Thus our so-called glass-snake, common in the Southern states, is not a snake at all, but a lizard, as we may easily see by observing the ear openings on each side of the head, as no snake has ears. This beautiful animal is also known as the joint-snake, and both names have reference to the exceeding brittleness of its long tail, which often breaks in many pieces in the hands of the enemy trying to capture the lizard. That these pieces ever join and heal together is of course a silly fable. As a matter of fact, the body in a comparatively short time grows a new tail, which, however, is much shorter and stumpier than the old one. The new piece is often of a different color from the rest of the body and {99} greatly resembles a “horn,” being conical and pointed, and has thus given rise to another equally silly fable, viz., that of the horn snake, or hoop snake, which is said to have a sting in its tail and to be deadly poisonous. The lizards are all perfectly harmless, except the sluggish Gila monster (pronounced Heela, named from the Gila River in Arizona) which lives in the deserts of Arizona and Mexico, and whose bite may be fatal to man. The poison glands are situated at the point of the lower jaw, and the venom is taken up by the wound while the animal hangs on to its victim with the tenacity of a bulldog. All the other lizards are harmless in spite of the dreadful stories told about the deadly quality of some of the species in various parts of the country.
Rattlesnake palate
The snakes form the last group of the reptiles. Universally legless, though some of the boas and pythons have distinct outer rudiments of hind limbs, they are not easily mistaken. And it is perhaps well so, for unless one is an expert at distinguishing between the poisonous and the harmless kind it is just as well to keep at a respectful distance from them. It is safest not to interfere with them, especially as those that are not poisonous are usually very useful in destroying rats and mice and other vermin, except perhaps those living in trees and feeding on eggs and young birds, which certainly do not deserve our protection. Of course the rattlesnake is not to be mistaken. The horny appendix to its tail, with which it sounds the warning of its presence, is enough to distinguish it. It should here be explained that both lizards and snakes at various intervals shed the outer layer of their skin, the so-called epidermis. This transparent layer, after a certain length of time, loosens and is usually stripped off whole by the animal crawling out of it and turning it inside out, as a tight glove is turned. Now, at the end of a rattlesnake’s tail there is a horny cap which is {100} called the button, and being narrowed at the base and more strongly built than the rest of the epidermis it is not shed with the rest of the skin, but remains attached.
Thus for each shedding a new joint or ring is added to the rattle. How often the shedding takes place depends on various circumstances and may occur an uncertain number of times each year. Such a rattle, loose-jointed as it is, is rather brittle and the tip of the sounding instrument is easily broken and lost. It will therefore be easily understood that the common notion that a rattlesnake’s age can be told by the number of the rings in its rattle is absolutely erroneous. Another equally common and equally erroneous notion relates to the tongue of the snake, which the ignorant often term its “sting” and which they believe to be the death-dealing instrument. Of course, the soft, forked tongue which constantly darts out and in of the snake’s mouth is perfectly harmless. It serves rather as a “feeler” than as a taste organ. The wound is inflicted by a pair of large, curved, teeth or fangs, in the upper jaw. These fangs are hollow and connected by a duct with the gland on the side of the head, in which the poison is formed. Pressure on this gland at the time of the strike–for our poisonous snakes strike rather than bite–squirts the poison into the wound like a hypodermic syringe. The fangs when shed or damaged are replaced within a short time with new ones, so that a poisonous snake can only be made harmless for a short period by breaking them off. Only in exceptional cases need snake bites prove fatal. It is estimated that in North America only about two persons in a hundred bitten are killed by the poison, though many more die from carelessness or bad treatment, the worst of which is the filling up with whiskey, which aids the poison rather than counteracts it. The essential things in case of snake bite are: (1) keeping one’s wits; (2) tying a string, or the like, tightly around the wounded limb between the wound and the heart, and loosening it about once in fifteen minutes, so as to admit the poison slowly into the circulation; (3) making the wound bleed freely by enlarging it with a knife or otherwise; (4) if permanganate of potash be handy it should at once be applied to the {101} wound; (5) treat the wound as antiseptically as it is possible with the means at hand and hurry to a doctor.
Copperhead
The danger depends greatly on the amount of the poison injected, hence upon the size of the snake. It is for this reason that the big Florida rattlesnakes which grow to six feet and over are more to be feared than are other poisonous snakes. Of these, we have in our country, besides the rattlesnakes, the water moccasin, or cotton mouth, the copperhead, and the coral snake. The latter is a bright-colored snake of red, yellow, and black rings found in the South, but it is usually small, and not aggressive, so that but few cases of poisoning are known. The other two are common enough, the former from Norfolk, Va., south, the other all over the eastern country from Texas to Massachusetts. They are usually confounded, however, with two perfectly harmless snakes, the cotton mouth with the common water snake, the copperhead with the so-called spreading adder, but as their differences have to be learned from actual inspection and are very hard to express in a description which would help to identify living specimens, it is wisest to keep away from all of them.
See “The Poisonous Snakes of North America.” By Leonard Stejneger, published by Government Printing office, Washington.
Water moccasin
Chrysalis
INSECTS AND BUTTERFLIES
United States Bureau of Entomology
(Illustrations are copies from Comstock’s “How to Know the
Butterflies,” through courtesy of D. Appleton & Company.)
There is an advantage in the study of insects over most other branches of nature, excepting perhaps plants, in that there is plenty of material. You may have to tramp miles to see a certain bird or wild animal, but if you will sit down on the first patch of grass you are sure to see something going on in the insect world.
Butterflies
Nearly all insects go through several different stages. The young bird is very much like its parent, so is the young squirrel or a young snake or a {102} young fish or a young snail; but with most of the insects the young is very different from its parents. All butterflies and moths lay eggs, and these hatch into caterpillars which when full grown transform to what are called pupae or chrysalids–nearly motionless objects with all of the parts soldered together under an enveloping sheath. With some of the moths, the pupae are surrounded by silk cocoons spun by the caterpillars just before finally transforming to pupae. With all butterflies the chrysalids are naked, except with one species which occurs in Central America in which there is a common silk cocoon. With the moths, the larger part spin cocoons, but some of them, like the owlet moths whose larvae are the cutworms, have naked pupre, usually under the surface of the ground. It is not difficult to study the transformations of the butterflies and moths, and it is always very interesting to feed a caterpillar until it transforms, in order to see what kind of a butterfly or moth comes out of the chrysalis.
Take the monarch butterfly, for example: This is a large, reddish-brown butterfly, a strong flier, which is seen often flying about in the spring and again in the late summer and autumn. This is one of the most remarkable butterflies in America. It is found all over the United States. It is one of the strongest fliers that we know. It passes the winter in the Southern states as an adult butterfly, probably hidden away in cracks under the bark of trees or elsewhere. When spring comes the butterflies come out and begin to fly toward the north. Wherever they find the milk-weed plant they stop and lay some eggs on the leaves. The caterpillars issue from the eggs, feed on the milkweed, transform to chrysalids; then the butterflies issue and continue the northward flight, stopping to lay eggs farther north on other milkweeds. By the end of June or July some of these Southern butterflies have found their way north into Canada and begin the return flight southward. Along in early August they will be seen at the summer resorts in the Catskill Mountains, and by the end of October they will have traveled far down into the Southern states where they pass the winter.
Empty chrysalis and butterfly
The caterpillar of the monarch or milkweed butterfly is a very striking creature. It is nearly two inches long when full grown. Its head is yellow striped with black; its body is white with narrow black and yellow cross-stripes on each {103} segment. On the back of the second segment of the thorax there is a pair of black, whiplash-like filaments, and on the eighth joint there is a similar shorter pair. When this caterpillar gets ready to transform to chrysalis, it hangs itself up by its tail end, the skin splits and gradually draws back, and the chrysalis itself is revealed–pale pea-green in color with golden spots. Anyone by hunting over a patch of milkweed anywhere in the United States during the summer is quite apt to find these caterpillars feeding. It will be easy to watch them and to see them transform, and eventually to get the butterfly.
The same thing may be done with anyone of the six hundred and fifty-two different kinds of butterflies in the United States.
Larva getting ready to transform
Full grown larva
Moths
When it comes to moths, there is a much greater variety.
Instead of six hundred and fifty-two, there are fifty-nine hundred and seventy in Doctor Dyar’s big catalogue. Perhaps the most interesting of these caterpillars are the big native silk-worms, like those of the cecropia moth, the luna moth, the polyphemus moth, or the promethia moth. These caterpillars are very large and are to be found feeding upon the leaves of different trees, and all spin strong silken cocoons. People have tried to reel these cocoons, thinking that they might be able to use the silk to make silk cloth as with the domestic silk-worm of commerce, but they have been unable to reel them properly. The polyphemus moth, for example, has been experimented with a great deal. It is found over a greater part of the United States, and its caterpillar feeds upon a great variety of trees and shrubs such as oak, Butternut, hickory, basswood, elm, maple, birch, chestnut, sycamore, and many others. The caterpillar is light green and has raised lines of silvery white on the side. It grows to a very large size and spins a dense, hard cocoon, usually attached to leaves. There {104} are two generations in the Southern states, and one in the Northern states. The moth which comes out of the cocoon has a wing spread of fully five inches. It is reddish-gray or somewhat buff in color with darker bands near the edge of the wings, which themselves are pinkish on the outside, and with a large clear spot near the centre of the forewing and a regular eyespot (clear in part and blue in the rest) in the centre of the hind wing.
One wishing to know about butterflies and moths should consult a book entitled, “How to Know the Butterflies,” by Prof. J. H. Comstock of Cornell University and his wife, Mrs. Comstock, published by D. Appleton & Co., of New York, or, “The Butterfly Book,” by Dr. W. J. Holland of Pittsburg, published by Doubleday, Page & Co., of New York, and “The Moth Book,” also by Doctor Holland, and published by the same firm.
Caterpillar to chrysalis
Other Insects
There are many more different kinds of insects than there are of flowering plants, and if we were to add together all of the different kinds of birds, mammals, reptiles, fishes, crabs, mollusks, and all of the lower forms of animal life, they would not all together amount to so many different kinds as there are insects. This makes the classification of insects quite complicated. There are eighteen or nineteen main orders, and each one is subdivided almost indefinitely. There is not one of these that is not full of interest. The habits of ants, for example, living in communities by themselves, afford a tremendous opportunity for interesting observation. A good book about them has been recently written by Dr. W. M. Wheeler, of Harvard, entitled “Ants, their Structure, Development, and Behavior,” published by the Columbia University Press, New York.
Many insects live in the water, and to follow their life histories in small home-made aquaria is one of the most interesting occupations one could have, and there is a lot to be learned about these insects. Go to any stagnant pool and you will find it swarming with animal life:
Larvae or “wigglers” of mosquitoes, and a number of other aquatic insects will be found, feeding upon these wigglers. Water bugs of different kinds will be found and the life histories of most of these were until quite recently almost unknown.
Beetles and Wasps
The order Coleoptera, comprising what we know as beetles, has thousands of species, each one with its own distinctive mode of life; some of them feeding upon other insects, others boring into wood, others feeding upon flowers, others upon leaves, and so on in endless variety.
The wasps also will bear study. Here, too, there is a great variety, some of them building the paper nests known to every one, others burrowing into the surface of the ground and storing up in these burrows grasshoppers and other insects for food for their young which are grub-like in form; others still burrowing into the twigs of bushes, and others making mud nests attached to the trunks of trees or to the clapboards of houses or outbuildings.
This is just a hint at the endless variety of habits of insects. The United States National Museum publishes a bulletin, by Mr. Nathan Banks, entitled “Directions for Collecting and Preserving Insects,” which gives a general outline of the classification, and should be possessed by everyone who wishes to take up the study from the beginning.
FISHES
By Dr. Hugh M. Smith, Deputy Commissioner United States Fisheries
There is no more fascinating and profitable study than the fish life of the lakes, ponds, rivers, brooks, bays, estuaries, and coasts of the United States; and no more important service can be rendered our American boys than to teach them to become familiar with our native food and game fishes, to realize their needs, and by example and precept to {106} endeavor to secure for the fishes fair consideration and treatment.
Esox lucius–Common pike pickerel
Oncorhynchus tschawytscha–Chinook salmon
Coregonus clupeiformis–Common whitefish
Salvelinus fontinalis–Brook trout: speckled trout
Ictalurus punctatus–The speckled catfish
Classes of Fish
Fishes may be roughly classified as (1) fresh water, (2) migratory between fresh and salt water, and (3) marine. Among the families of American fresh-water fishes that are conspicuous on account of their size, abundance, or economic importance, or all of these, there may be mentioned the sturgeons, the catfishes, the suckers, the minnows or carps, the pikes, the killifishes, the trouts, salmons, and whitefishes, the perches, and the basses, and sun fishes.
Migratory Fish
The migratory fishes fall into two groups, the anadromous and the catadtomous. The anadromous fishes pass most of their lives in the sea, run up stream only for the purpose of spawning, and constitute the most valuable of our river fishes. In this group are the shads and the alewives or river herrings, the white perch, the striped bass or rock fish, some {107} of the sturgeons, and the Atlantic salmon, all of which go back to sea after spawning, and the Pacific salmons (five species), all of which die after spawning. Of the catadromous fishes there is a single example in our waters–the common eel. It spends most of its life in the fresh waters and sometimes becomes permanently landlocked there, and runs down to the sea to spawn, laying its eggs off shore in deep water.
Marine Fish
The marine fishes that are found in the coastal waters of the United States number many hundred species, some of them of great value as food. Among the most important are cod, haddock, hake, halibut, Flounder, herring, bluefish, mackeral, weakfish or squeteague, mullet, snapper, drum, and rock fishes.
Perea flavescens–Yellow perch
Pomolobus altivalis–The alewife or river herring
Micropterus salmoides–Large-mouth black bass
Notropis hudsonius–Minnow or shiner
Acipenser oxyrhynchus–The Atlantic sturgeon
Studying Fish
The study of living fishes is most entertaining and is rendered somewhat difficult by the medium in which they live, by their {108}shyness, and by the necessity of approaching closely in order to obtain any accurate view. The spawning, feeding, swimming and other habits of very few of our fishes are so well known that further information thereon is not needed; and the boy scout’s patience, skill, and powers of observation will be reflected in the records that may be and should be kept about the different fishes met with. Fishes may be studied from a bank, wharf, or boat, or by wading; and the view of the bottom and the fishes on or adjacent thereto may be greatly improved by the use of a “water bucket”–an ordinary wooden pail whose bottom is replaced by a piece of window glass. A more elaborate arrangement for observation is to provide at the bow of a row-boat a glass bottom box over which may be thrown a hood so that the student is invisible to the fishes.
Fundulus diaphanus–Killifish: top minnow
Catostomus commersonii–Common sucker: white sucker
Identification of Specimens
While many of the fishes in a given section are easily recognizable, there are in every water fishes which, on account of their small size, rarity, retiring habits, or close similarity to other fishes, are unknown to the average boy. These latter fishes often afford the most interesting subjects for study; and in all parts of the country it is possible for energetic observers and collectors to add to the list of fishes already recorded from particular districts.
When fishes cannot be identified in the field, the larger ones may be sketched and notes taken on their color, while the smaller ones may be preserved with salt, formalin, or any kind of spirits. Specimens and drawings may be forwarded for identification to the zoological department of the local state university, to the state fish commission, to the Bureau of Fisheries, Washington, D. C., or to the United States National Museum in the same city.
Angling
This most delightful of outdoor pastimes requires for its enjoyment no elaborate or expensive paraphernalia: a rod cut on the spot, a cork float, an ordinary hook baited with angleworm, grasshopper, grub, may-fly, or any of a dozen other handy lures, will answer for most occasions. At the same time, the joys of fishing will often be increased if one possesses and learns how to use a light, jointed rod, with reel, fine line, and artificial baits. The necessary equipment for scientific angling is so light and compact that it should form a part of the outfit of every one who spends much time in the open air.
It should be the invariable practice of anglers to return to the water all uninjured fish that are not needed for food or study. “It is not all of fishing to fish,” and no thoughtful boy who has the interests of the country at heart, and no lover of nature, will go fishing merely for the purpose of catching the longest possible string of fish, thus placing himself in the class of anglers properly known as “fish hogs.”
Special Service by Boy Scouts
Valuable service may be rendered by boy scouts in all parts of the country by bringing to the attention of the proper state, county, or municipal authorities matters affecting the welfare of the fishes. Among the subjects that should be reported to fish commissioners, fish
wardens, or local legal officers are:
(1) All cases noticed where fish are being killed by dynamite, poisons, or other illegal and improper means.
(2) Threatened destruction of fish by the drying of streams or ponds.
(3) The existence of obstructions to the passage of fish on their way to their spawning grounds. All dams in streams in which are migratory fish should have fish-ways or fish-ladders.
Aquarium
William Leland Stowell, M. D.
Every boy should have an aquarium. The aquarium will give ten times as much pleasure as annoyance, and the longer time you have one undisturbed the greater will be its revelations.
A simple tank can be made from a large water bottle or demijohn. File a line around the top and carefully break it off. For the back yard, cut a paint barrel in two or coat a tub inside with spar varnish. Anything that will hold a few gallons of water, two inches of clean sand, and some water plants will be a suitable home for fish and other creatures. A boy handy with tools can make a frame, and with plate glass and proper cement construct a large tank.
Starting the Aquarium
You can balance your aquarium by plenty of plants. As they grow they give off oxygen which purifies the water and is breathed by the fish. The water need not be changed for years. The swamps and slow streams afford great numbers of plants. If you know the plants get pond weeds, Canadian water weed, ludwigia, willow moss, or tape grass. (Look in the dictionary for official names of the plants or get special books from the library.) Take some tape grass (vallisneria) to your teacher or doctor and ask him to show you under his microscope how the sap flows and the green coloring matter is deposited. The simplest form of vegetation is algae which grows on the sides of the tank. Lest this grow too thick, put in a few snails. Watch the snails’ eggs develop in clusters. Buy if you cannot find banded swamp snails that give birth to their young instead of laying eggs.
Any pond or stream will furnish fish that are beautiful or interesting to watch, e.g., killies, sunfish, cat-fish, carp, shiners, blacknosed dace, minnows–the mud minnow that seems to stand on his tail–darters, etc. If you get your supply from dealers, buy gold fish, of which there are several varieties, fan-tailed, comets, fringe tails and telescope eyed. Mirror carp are lively. Paradise fish are as beautiful as butterflies.
A balanced aquarium
Fish Nests
Every one knows something of birds’ nests. Did you ever watch sticklebacks build their barrel-like nest, or the Paradise fish his floating nest, and the father fish take all the care of the young? Did you ever see the newt roll her eggs in small leaves, or the caddis fly make a case of bits of stick, leaves, and sand? For a real marvel watch a pair of diving spiders weave their balloon-like nest under water and actually carry air down to fill it, so that the young may be dry though submerged.
Put in a few fresh-water clams and insects in variety, water boatmen, diving spiders, and whirligigs. A tank of beetles will be full of interest. Always add two or three tadpoles as scavengers, and watch their legs grow out as the tail grows short and they become frogs. You can find or buy a variety of turtles which will soon be tame and eat from your fingers. Do not keep turtles with fish.
On every hike or tramp carry a wide-mouthed bottle for specimens and a piece of rubber cloth in which to bring home water plants. Fish can be carried wrapped in damp moss for hours and will be found well and lively when put in the aquarium.
Fish Food
Fish require very little food other than the minute creatures that develop in the water.
The dealers supply proper foods for aquaria, or you can prepare your own. Fine vermicelli is good for gold fish, scraped lean beef is just what the sunfish and Paradise fish want. Ant eggs suit many fish, and powdered dog biscuit will fill many mouths. It is evident that an article so brief as this is only suggestive. The libraries contain many books of which two are recommended:
“Home Aquarium and How to Care For It.” By Eugene Smith, 1902.
Published by Dutton, New York.
“Book of Aquaria.” By Bateman and Bennett, 1890. Published by L. Upcott Gill, 170 Strand, W. C., London.
ROCKS AND PEBBLES
United States Geological Survey
Geologists study the materials of the earth’s crust, the processes continually changing its surface, and the forms and structures thus produced. In a day’s tramp one may see much under each of these heads.
The earth’s crust is made up chiefly of the hard rocks, which outcrop in many places, but are largely covered by thin, loose, surface materials. Rocks may be igneous, which have cooled from a melted condition; or sedimentary, which are made of layers spread one upon another by water currents or waves, or by winds.
Igneous rocks, while still molten, have been forced into other rocks from below, or poured out on the surface from volcanoes. They are chiefly made of crystals of various minerals, such as quartz, felspar, mica, and pyrite. Granite often contains large crystals of felspar or mica. Some igneous rocks, especially lavas, are glassy; others are so fine grained that the crystals cannot be seen.
In places one may find veins filling cracks in the rocks, and {113} made of material deposited from solution in water. Many valuable minerals and ores occur in such veins, and fine specimens can sometimes be obtained from them.
Fold in stratified rock
Wearing the soft and hard beds by rain and wind
Quartz vein in rock
Sedimentary rock are formed of material usually derived from the breaking up and wearing away of older rocks. When first deposited, the materials are loose, but later, when covered by other beds, they become hardened into solid rock. If the layers were of sand, the rock is sandstone; if of clay, it is shale. Rocks made of layers of pebbles are called conglomerate or pudding-stone; those of limy material, derived perhaps from shells, are limestone. Many sedimentary rocks contain fossils, which are the shells or bones of animals or the stems and leaves of plants living in former times, and buried by successive beds of sand or mud spread over them. Much of the land is covered by a thin surface deposit of clay, sand, or gravel, which is yet loose material and which shows the mode of formation of sedimentary rocks.
Some rocks have undergone, since their formation, great pressure or heat and have been much changed. They are called metamorphic rocks. Some are now made of crystals though at first they were not; in others the minerals have become arranged {114} in layers closely resembling the beds of sedimentary rocks; still others, like slate, tend to split into thin plates.
The earth’s surface is continually being changed; the outcropping hard rock is worn away by wind and rain, and is broken up by frost, by solution of some minerals, etc. The loose material formed is blown away or washed away by rain and deposited elsewhere by streams in gravel bars, sand beds, and mud flats. The streams cut away their beds, aided by the sand and pebbles washed along. Thus the hills are being worn down and the valleys deepened and widened, and the materials of the land are slowly being moved toward the sea, again to be deposited in beds.
Wave-cut cliff with beach and spit built by waves and currents
Along the coast the waves, with the pebbles washed about, are wearing away the land and spreading out its materials in new beds elsewhere. The shore is being cut back in some places and built out in others. Rivers bring down sand and mud and build deltas or bars at their mouths.
Volcanoes pour out melted rock on the surface, and much fine material is blown out in eruptions. Swamps are filled {115} by dead vegetable matter and by sand and mud washed in. These materials form new rocks and build up the surface. Thus the two processes, the wearing down in some places and the building up in others, are tending to bring the surface to a uniform level. Another process, so slow that it can be observed only through long periods of time, tends to deform the earth’s crust and to make the surface more irregular. In times past, layers of rock once horizontal have been bent and folded into great arches and troughs, and large areas of the earth’s surface have been raised high above sea-level.
Rock ledge rounded smooth and scratched by ice
Sand-dune with wind-rippled surface
At almost any rock outcrop the result of {116} the breaking-up process may be seen; the outer portion is softer, more easily broken, and of different color from the fresh rock, as shown by breaking open a large piece. The wearing away of the land surface is well shown in rain gullies, and the carrying along and depositing of sand and gravel may be seen in almost any stream. In the Northern states and Canada, which at one time were covered by a great sheet of ice, moving southward and grinding off the surface over which it passed, most of the rock outcrops are smoothly rounded and many show scratches made by pebbles dragged along by the ice. The hills too have {117} smoother and rounder outlines, as compared with those farther south where the land has been carved only by rain and streams. Along the coast the wearing away of the land by waves is shown at cliffs, found where the coast is high, and by the abundant pebbles on the beaches, which are built of material torn from the land by the waves. Sand bars and tidal flats show the deposition of material brought by streams and spread out by currents. Sand dunes and barrens illustrate the carrying and spreading out of fine material by the wind.
Slab containing fossil shells
Conglomerate or pudding-stone
In many regions the beds of sedimentary rocks, which must have been nearly horizontal when formed, are now found sloping at various angles or standing on edge, the result of slow deforming of these beds at an earlier time. As some beds are more easily worn away than others, the hills and valleys in such regions owe their form and position largely to the different extent to which the harder and softer beds have been worn down by weather and by streams. The irregular line of many coasts is likewise due to the different hardness of the rocks along the shore.
It is by the study of the rocks and of the remains of life found in them, by observing the way in which the surface of the earth is being changed and examining the results of those changes and by concluding that similar results were produced in former times in the same way, that geologists are able to read much of the past history of the earth, uncounted years before there were men upon it.
Plants, Ferns, and Grasses
By Dr. L. C. Corbett, Horticulturist, United States Bureau of Plant Industry
The appearance of the blossoms and fruits of the fields and forests in any locality note the advent and progress of the seasons more accurately than does the calendar. Plants and seeds which have lain asleep during the winter are awakened not by the birth of a month, but by the return of heat and moisture in proper proportions. This may be early one year and late another, but, no matter what the calendar says, the plants respond to the call and give evidence of spring, summer, or autumn as the case may be. The surface of the earth is not flat. We have valleys and we have mountains; we have torrid and we have temperate zones. The plant life of the world has been adjusted to these varied conditions, and as a result we have plants with certain characteristics growing in the tropics at sea-level, but a very different class of plants with {118} different habits and characteristics inhabiting the elevated regions of this same zone. It must be remembered that even under the tropics some of the highest mountains carry a perpetual snow-cap. There is therefore all possible gradations of climate from sea-level to the top of such mountains, even at the equator, and plant life is as a result as varied as is climate. Each zone, whether determined by latitude or by altitude, possesses a distinctive flora.
But altitude and latitude are not the only factors which have been instrumental in determining the plants found in any particular locality. This old earth of ours has not always been as we see her to-day. The nature we know and observe is quite different from that which existed in earlier ages of the earth’s history. The plants, the trees, and the flowers that existed upon the earth during the age when our coal was being deposited were very different from those we now have. There has been a change, but, strange as it may seem, there are in some places upon the earth to-day some of the same species of plants which were abundant during the coal-forming periods. These are among the oldest representatives of the plant world now extant. Then we are told that there was a period when the north temperate zone was covered with a great ice field which crowded down as far as southern Pennsylvania and central Ohio. This naturally brought about a profound change in the location and character of the plants of this region. There are in the Black Hills of Dakota species of plants which have no relatives anywhere in the prairie region, and no means is known by which these representatives of a Rocky Mountain family could find their way into the Black Hills, save that, previous to the ice age, this species was generally scattered over the territory, and that, during the ice age, the species was perpetuated in the hills, but was killed out between there and the Rocky Mountains where it is found in abundance. These are some of the natural reasons for the existence of varied plants in different localities. They are sufficient to explain the reason for the existence of local floras.
But nature has provided untold ways for the perpetuation as well as the dispersal of plants for the purpose of, so far as possible, enabling the plants of the world to take possession of all parts of the earth’s surface. If this adjustment were complete, the plants would be practically alike all over the surface of the earth, but we have already explained why this cannot be and why we have a different flora in each zone, whether it be marked by lines of latitude or height of {120} the mountains. Plants are perpetuated by seeds, by bulbs, and by woody parts. Some seeds are highly perishable and must be sown as soon as ripe; others remain years without losing their power to produce plants. Some grow as soon as they come in contact with the soil; others must fall, be buried and frozen before they will germinate. Some plants are perpetuated by bulbs, tubers, or roots in which a supply of food material is stored away to carry the plant over a period when its above-ground parts cannot thrive owing to frost or drought. Upon the return of favorable conditions, these resting parts throw out shoots and again make the round of growth, usually producing both seeds and underground parts for the preservation of the species. There are both wild and cultivated plants in nearly all sections which illustrate these methods of preservation. Besides plants which have bulbs, tubers, or perennial roots, we have the large, woody plants which live many years and so perpetuate themselves, not only as individuals the same as plants with perennial roots; but they, too, as a rule, produce seed for the multiplication of their kind.
Pinkster Flower–It shows its pink flowers in rocky woods and thickets during spring.
White Pine–Common evergreen tree of the Northeastern states. Needle-like leaves in bundles of five
Butterfly Weed–The bright, orange colored flowers are conspicuous in dry meadows from June to September
Poison Ivy–Can be distinguished from the harmless woodbine by its three-lobed leaves
The agencies which serve to spread plants about over the earth’s surface are very varied and interesting. Nature has provided seeds with many appendages which assist in their dispersal. Some seeds have wings, and some parachutes to take advantage of the wind. Some seeds are provided with hooks and stickers by which they become attached to the fur of animals and are in this way enabled to steal a free ride. Other seeds are provided with edible coverings which attract birds, but the seeds themselves are hard and not digestible; the fruit is eaten and the seeds rejected and so plants are scattered. Besides these methods of perpetuation and dispersal, some plants are perpetuated as well as dispersed by vegetative reproduction, i. e., by cuttings as in the case of willows; by runners as in the case of the strawberry; and by stolons as with the black raspberry. (For further information on this point see Bailey’s “Lessons with Plants.”)
Some plant characteristics, however, of greatest interest to the scout may be enumerated. Plants not only mark zones, but they indicate soils with certain characteristics, and the crop wise say that the soil on which chestnut abounds is suitable for buckwheat or peaches. Plants also indicate the influence of local conditions such as lakes, ponds, or even variations in contour. A knowledge of the local flora of a region will at once tell one whether he is upon a northern or a southern hillside by the plants of the area. The creek bottom will {121} abound with species not to be found on the hillsides, but species common to both plain and mountain will mark the progress of the season up the slope.
In the north temperate zone the moss if any will be found growing upon the north side of the tree trunk. Each hundred feet of elevation in a given latitude makes from one to two days difference in time of blooming of plants. The character of the vegetation of a region is an index to its climate. Certain plants are adapted to frigid regions, others to temperate, and still others to tropical areas. Some plants are adapted to humid sections, while others are admirably adjusted to desert conditions. A knowledge of these differences in plants will be of the greatest value to the scout, and if this is supplemented by information about the value and uses of the various plant products many hardships can be avoided. Many plants produce valuable juices, gums, and resins, while others yield us valuable timber for building and cabinet uses.
While it is impossible to even suggest the great variety of plants found within the confines of the United States, the following books on botany will be found helpful in each of the different sections for which they are designed.
Bibliography
Besides these, several states have issued through their state experiment stations bulletins dealing with the local plant inhabitants. In some instances these publications cover forest trees, grasses, and shrubs, either native or introduced. Several of the educational institutions, as well as the experiment stations, now regularly issue nature study leaflets or bulletins which treat of popular subjects of interest in connection with outdoor things. It would be well to write the state experiment station in your state for literature of this nature.
MUSHROOMS, FUNGI, OR TOADSTOOLS
By Ernest Thompson Seton, Chief Scout
Revised by Dr. C. C. Curtis
There are thousands of different kinds of toadstools or mushrooms in the world; most of them are good to eat, yet all have a bad reputation, because some are deadly poisonous.
False tests. First of all let us dispose of some ancient false tests that have led many into disaster.
Cooking or otherwise trying with silver proves absolutely nothing. It is believed by many that the poisonous mushrooms turn silver black. Some do; some do not; and some eatable ones do. There is nothing in it.
Bright colors on the cap also mean nothing; many gorgeous toadstools are wholesome food. But the color of the pores {123} means a great deal, and this is determined by laying the fungus cap gills down on gray paper for six or eight hours under a glass.
Moose horn clavaria
Spindle clavaria
Club clavaria
Golden clavaria
Poisonous Toadstools
Of all the poisonous kinds the deadliest are the Amanitas. Not only are they widespread and abundant, but they are unhappily much like the ordinary table mushrooms. They have however one or two strong marks: Their stalk always grows out of a “poison cup” which shows either as a cup or as a bulb; they have white or yellow gills, and white spores. The worst of these are:
Deathcup, Destroying Angel, Sure-death, or Deadly Amanita
(Amanita phalloides)
One and one half to five inches across the cup; three to seven inches high; white, green, yellowish olive, or grayish brown; {124} smooth but sticky when moist; gills white; spores white; on the stem is an annulus or ring just below the cap.
Fly Amanita
(Amanita muscaria)
About the same size; mostly yellow, but ranging from orange red to or almost white; usually with raised white spots or scales on the top; gills white or tinged yellow; spores white; flesh white.
Hated Amanita
(Amanita spreta)
Four to six inches high; cap three to five inches across; white, tinged with brown in places especially in the middle of the cap, where it has sometimes a bump.
Deadly amanita — Fly amanita — Hated amanita
There are over a score more of amanitas varying in size and color, but all have the general style of mushrooms, and the label marks of poison, viz., white or yellow gills, a poison cup, and white spores.
Emetic Russula
(Russula emetica)
In a less degree this russula is poisonous. It is a short-stemmed mushroom, two to four inches high, about the size of the Fly Amanita; its cap is rosy red, pinkish when young, dark red when older, fading to straw color in age; its gills and spores white. Its peppery taste when raw is a fair notice of danger.
Symptoms of Poisoning: Vomiting and purging, “the discharge from the bowels being watery with small flakes {125} suspended and sometimes containing blood,” cramps in the extremities. The pulse is very slow and strong at first but later weak and rapid, sometimes sweat and saliva pour out. Dizziness, faintness, and blindness, the skin clammy, cold, and bluish, or livid; temperature low with dreadful tetanic convulsions, and finally stupor.
Remedy: “Take an emetic at once, and send for a physician with instructions to bring hypodermic syringe and atropine sulphate. The dose is 1/180 of a grain, and doses should be continued heroically until 1/20 of a grain is administered, or until, in the physician’s opinion, a proper quantity has been injected. Where the victim is critically ill, the 1/20 of a grain may be administered.” (McIllvaine & Macadam.)
Emetic russula: russula emetica
(after Marshall)
Mushrooms
WHOLESOME TOADSTOOLS
The Common Mushroom
(Agaricus campestris)
Coprinus
They grow on dung piles and rich ground. They spring up over night and perish in a day. In the last stage the gills turn as black as ink.
Inky Coprinus
(Coprinus atramentarius)
This is the species illustrated. The example was from the woods; often it is less tall and graceful. The cap is one inch {126} to three inches in diameter, grayish or grayish brown, sometimes tinged lead color. Wash and stew: Stew or bake from twenty to thirty minutes after thorough washing, being the recognized mode.
All the Clavarias or Coral Mushrooms are good except Clavaria dichotoma which is white, and has its branches divided in pairs at each fork. It grows on the ground under beeches and is slightly poisonous; it is rare.
Inky coprinus
The Delicious Morel
(Morchella deliciosa)
One and a half to three inches high; greenish with brown hollows. There are several kindred species of various colors. This is known by the cylindrical shape of its cap. Wash, slice, and stew.
Morel
Puffballs
(Lycoperdaceae)
The next important and safe group are the puffballs before they begin to puff. All our puffballs when young and solid white inside are good, wholesome food. Some of them, like the brain puffball or the giant puffball, are occasionally a foot in diameter, and yield flesh enough to feed a dozen persons.
| Brain puffball | Pear puffball | Cup puffball |
They are well known to all who live in the country, their smooth rounded exterior, without special features except the {127} roots, and their solid white interior are easily remembered. Peel, slice, and fry.
Bibliography
COMMON NORTH AMERICAN TREES
White Pine
(Pinus strobus)
| White pine | Hemlock | Red cedar |
Hemlock
(Tsuga Canadensis)
Evergreen. Sixty to seventy feet high. Wood pale, soft, coarse, splintery, not durable. Bark full of tannin. Leaves 1/2 to 3/4 inches long; cones about the same. Its knots are so hard that they quickly turn the edge of an axe or gap it as a stone might; these are probably the hardest vegetable growth in our woods. Its topmost twig usually points easterly. Nova Scotia to Minnesota, south to Delaware and Michigan.
| Cottonwood | Shagbark | Walnut |
Red Cedar
(Juniperus Virginiana)
Evergreen. Any height up to 100 feet. Wood, heart a beautiful bright red; sap wood nearly white; soft, weak, but extremely durable as posts, etc. Makes a good bow. The tiny scale-like leaves are 3 to 6 to the inch; the berry-like cones are light blue and 1/4 of an inch in diameter. It is found in dry places from Nova Scotia to Florida and west to British Columbia.
Cottonwood
(Populus deltoides)
Small and rare in the Northeast, but abundant and large {129} in West; even 150 feet high. Leaves 3 to 6 inches long. Found from Quebec to Florida and west to the mountains.
Shagbark or White Hickory
(Hicoria ovata)
A tall forest tree up to 120 feet high. Known at once by the great angular slabs of bark hanging partly detached from its main trunk, forced off by the growth of wood, but too tough to fall. Its leaves are 8 to 14 inches long, with 5 to 7 broad leaflets.
Black Walnut
(Juglans nigra)
A magnificent forest tree up to 150 feet high. Wood, a dark purplish-brown or gray; hard, close-grained, strong, very durable in weather or ground work, and heavy; fruit round, 1-3/4 inches through. Leaflets 13 to 23, and 3 to 5 inches long. Found from Canada to the Gulf.
White Walnut or Butternut
(Juglans cinerea)
A much smaller tree than the last, rarely 100 feet high, with much smoother bark, leaves similar but larger and coarser, compound of fewer leaflets, but the leaflet stalks and the new twigs are covered with sticky down. Leaves 15 to 30 inches long, leaflets 11 to 19 in number and 3 to 5 inches long; fruit oblong, 2 to 3 inches long. New Brunswick and Dakota and south to Mississippi.
Common Birch or Aspen-leaved Birch
(Betula populifolia)
A small tree on dry and poor soil, rarely 50 feet high. Wood soft, close-grained, not strong, splits in drying, useless for weather or ground work. A cubic foot weighs 36 pounds. Leaves 2 to 3 inches long. It has a black triangular scar at each armpit. The canoe birch is without these black marks. New Brunswick to Ontario to Pennsylvania and Delaware.
Black Birch, Sweet Birch, or Mahogany Birch
(Betula lenta)
The largest of the birches; a great tree, in Northern forests up to 80 feet high. The bark is scarcely birchy, rather like that of {130} cherry, very dark, and aromatic. Leaves 2-1/2 to 6 inches long. Newfoundland to Western Ontario and south to Tennessee.
| Ashen-leaved birch | Black birch | Beech |
Beech
(Fagus Americana)
In all North America there is but one species of beech. It is a noble forest tree, 70 to 80 and occasionally 120 feet high, readily distinguished by its smooth, ashy-gray bark. Leaves 3 to 4 inches long. It shares with hickory and sugar maple the honor of being a perfect firewood. Nova Scotia to Wisconsin, south to Florida and Texas.
Chestnut
(Castanea dentata)
A noble tree, 60 to 80 or even 100 feet high. The most delicious of nuts. Leaves 6 to 8 inches long. Maine to Michigan and south to Tennessee.
Red Oak
(Quercus rubra)
A fine forest tree, 70 to 80 or even 140 feet high. Hard, strong, coarse-grained, heavy. It checks, warps, and does not stand for weather or ground work. The acorn takes two {131} seasons to ripen. Leaves 4 to 8 inches long. Nova Scotia to Minnesota, south to Texas and Florida.
White Oak
(Quercus alba)
A grand forest tree, over 100 up to 150 feet high. Wood pale, strong, tough, fine-grained, durable and heavy, valuable timber. Called white from pale color of bark and wood. Leaves 5 to 9 inches long. Acorns ripen in one season. Maine to Minnesota, Florida and Texas.
| Chestnut | Red oak | White oak |
White Elm or Swamp Elm
(Ulmus Americana)
A tall, splendid forest tree, commonly 100, occasionally 120 feet high. Wood reddish-brown, hard, strong, tough, very hard to split, coarse, heavy. Soon rots near the ground. Leaves 2 to 5 inches long. Flowers in early spring before leafing. Abundant, Newfoundland and Manitoba to Texas.
Sycamore, Plane Tree, Buttonball or Buttonwood
(Platanus occidentalis)
One of the largest of our trees; up to 140 feet high; commonly hollow. Little use for weather work. Famous for shedding {132} its bark as well as its leaves; leaves 4 to 9 inches long. Canada to Gulf.
Black or Yellow Locust, Silver Chain
(Robinia pseudacacia)
A tall forest tree up to 80 feet high; leaves 8 to 14 inches long; leaflets 9 to 19, 1 to 2 inches long, pods 2 to 4 inches long, 4 to 7 seeded. This is the common locust so often seen about old lawns.
| White elm | Sycamore | Black locust |
Red, Scarlet, Water, or Swamp Maple
(Acer rubrum)
A fine, tall tree, often over 100 feet high. Noted for its flaming crimson foliage in fall, as well as its red leaf stalks, flowers, and fruit, earlier. Leaves 2 to 6 inches long. Like all the maples it produces sugar, though in this case not much. Western North America.
 |
 |
| Red maple | White Ash |
White Ash
(Fraxinus Americana)
A fine tree on moist soil. Seventy to 80 or even 130 feet high. Yellow in autumn; noted for being last to leaf and first {133} to shed in the forest. Called white for the silvery under sides of the leaves; these are 8 to 12 inches long, each leaflet 3 to 6 inches long. Nova Scotia to Texas.
For a full unbotanical account of one hundred and twenty of our finest trees with their uses as wood, their properties, and the curious and interesting things about them see:
“The Forester’s Manual: or Forest Trees That Every Scout Should Know.” By Ernest Thompson Seton.
NATIVE WILD ANIMALS
Every scout ought to know the principal wild animals that are found in North America. He need not know them as a naturalist, but as a hunter, as a camper. Here is a brief account of twenty-four of them, and those who wish to know more will find the fullest possible account in “Life Histories of North America,” by E. T. Seton. (Scribners, 1909.) These two volumes are found in all large libraries.
Elk
Elk or Wapiti
(Cervus canadensis)
This is smaller than the moose. It stands four to five feet at the shoulder and weighs four hundred to eight hundred pounds. It is known by its rounded horns and the patch of yellowish-white on the rump and tail. At one time this splendid animal was found throughout temperate America from the Atlantic to the Pacific, north to Massachusetts, the Ottawa River, the Peace River, and British Columbia; and south to Georgia, Texas, and southern California. It is now exterminated except in Manitoba, Saskatchewan, Alberta; Vancouver Island, Washington, Wyoming and a few localities in the mountain states and in parks where it has been reintroduced.
The elk of Washington is very dark in color; that of the Southwest is very pale and small.
White-tailed Deer
(Odocoileus virginianus)
This is the best known of the common deer of America. It is distinguished by the forward bend of the horns, with the snags pointing backward, and by its long tail which is brown or blackish above and pure white below. Its face is gray, its throat white. A fair sized buck weighs two hundred pounds, live weight. A few have been taken of over three hundred and fifty pounds weight. In the Southern states they run much smaller. Several varieties have been described. It was found formerly in all of the timber states east of the Rockies; also in Ontario south of Lake Nipissing, in south Quebec and south New Brunswick. At present it is exterminated in the highly cultivated states of the Middle West, but has spread into northern Ontario, New Brunswick, and Manitoba.
White-tailed deer
Mule deer
Mule Deer
(Odocoileus hemionus)
This is the commonest deer of the hill country in the centre of the continent. It is found in the mountains from Mexico to British Columbia and northeasterly Saskatchewan and the Lake of the Woods. It is known by its {135} double-forked horns, its large ears, the dark patch on the forehead, the rest of the face being whitish. Also by its tail which is white with a black bunch on the end. This is a larger deer than the White-tail. There are several varieties of it in the South and West.
Moose
Moose
(Alces americanus)
This is the largest of the deer tribe. It stands five and a half to six and a half feet at the withers and weighs eight hundred to one thousand pounds. It is readily distinguished by its flat horns and pendulous, hairy muzzle. It is found in all the heavily timbered regions of Canada and Alaska and enters the United States in Maine, Adirondacks, Minnesota, Montana, Idaho, and northwestern Wyoming. Those from Alaska are of gigantic stature.
In all our deer the antlers are grown and shed each year, reaching perfection in autumn for the mating season. They are found in the males only, except in the caribou, in which species the females also have small horns.
Antelope
Antelope
(Antilocapra americana)
The antelope is famous as the swiftest quadruped native in America. It is a small creature, less than a common deer; a fair-sized buck weighs about one hundred pounds. It is known by its rich buff color with pure white patches, by having only two hoofs on each foot, and by the horns which are of true horn, like those of a goat, but have a snag or branch and are shed each year. In the female the horns are little points about an inch long.
Formerly the antelope abounded on all the high plains from Manitoba to Mexico and west to Oregon and California. It is now reduced to a few straggling bands in the central and wildest parts of the region.
Mountain Goat
(Oreamnos montanus)
The mountain goat is known at once by its pure white coat of wool and hair, its black horns, and peculiar shape. It is {136} above the size of a common deer; that is, a full grown male weighs two hundred and fifty to three hundred pounds; the female a third less. It is famous for its wonderful power as a rock climber and mountaineer. It is found in the higher Rockies, chiefly above timber lines, from central Idaho to Alaska.
Goat
Woodchuck
Woodchuck
(Marmota monax)
The common woodchuck is a grizzly brown on the back, chestnut on the breast, blackish on the crown and paws, and whitish on the cheeks. Its short ears and bushy tail are important characteristics. It measures about twenty-four inches of which the tail is five and a half inches and weighs five to ten pounds.
It is found in all the wooded parts of Canada from the Rockies to the Atlantic and south in the eastern states to about 40 degrees latitude.
Beaver
Beaver
(Castor canadensis)
The beaver is known by its great size–weighing from twenty-five to fifty pounds–its chestnut color, darker on the crown, its webbed feet, and its broad, flat, naked, scaly tail. The pelt of this animal is a valuable fur. The creature is famous for building dams and digging canals. It was found wherever there was water and timber in North America north of Mexico, but is now exterminated in most highly settled regions.
Muskrat
Muskrat
(Fiber zibethicus)
The muskrat is about the size of a cat; that is, it is twenty-one inches long, of which the tail is ten inches. In color it somewhat resembles the beaver, but its feet are not conspicuously webbed, its tail is long and flattened vertically, not {137} horizontally. This abundant animal is found throughout North America within the limit of trees wherever there is fresh water. It is the most abundant fur on the market.
Black-tailed jack rabbit
Jack Rabbit
(Lepus Californicus)
The jack-rabbit, famous for its speed and its ears, is known by its size, which about doubles that of a common rabbit and the jet black stripe running from its back into its tail. It is found on the plains from Nebraska to Oregon and south to Mexico. There are several different varieties.
Cottontail
Cottontail
(Sylvilagus floridanus)
The common eastern cottontail is known from the snowshoe by its smaller feet and its much larger, longer tail, which is gray above, and snow-white underneath. Sometimes the common tame rabbit resembles the cottontail in general color, but the latter has the top of its tail black.
The cottontails do not turn white in winter. They are found in most parts of the United States, entering Canada only in the Ontario peninsula and southern Saskatchewan.
Cougar
Cougar or Panther
(Felis couguar)
The cougar has been called the American lion; it is the largest cat in the western world except the jaguar or American {138} tiger. It is known by its unspotted brown coat, its long, heavy tail, and its size. A male cougar weighs one hundred and fifty to two hundred pounds; a few have been taken over that. The females are a third smaller. The young in first coat have black spots.
The cougar never attacks man but preys on deer, horses, calves, etc. There are several different forms; one or other of these is (or was) found from Ottawa, Minnesota, and Vancouver Island to Patagonia.
Lynx
Wild cat or bob cat
Wild Cat or Bob Cat
Wild Cat or Bob Cat
(Lynx rufus)
This is somewhat like the Canada lynx but is more spotted, has smaller feet, and the tail has several dark bars above and is pure white on the under side of the tip.
There are several species of bob cats; they cover the timbered states and enter Canada in Ontario, going north to Lake Simcoe.
Fox
(Vulpes fulvus)
The fox is about four feet from snout to tail tip; of this the tail is sixteen inches or more; it stands about fifteen inches at the shoulder. It rarely weighs over fifteen pounds and sometimes barely ten. The fox is known by its bright, sandy-red coat, black ears and paws, its white throat, and the white tip at the end of the tail. At a distance the fox’s ears and tail look very large. The silver or black fox is a mere color freak with black coat and white tail tip. Red foxes are found throughout the heavily timbered parts of North America north of latitude thirty-five degrees.
Gray Wolf
(Canis occidentalis)
The wolf is simply a big wild dog with exceptionally strong jaws and general gray color, becoming dirty white on the under part. The wolf is found in all parts of North America, except where settlement has driven it out, and varies in color with locality. The Florida wolves are black, Texan wolves are reddish, and Arctic wolves are white. Wolves weigh from {139} seventy-five to one hundred and twenty pounds and are distinguishable from coyotes by the heavy muzzle and jaws, greater size, and comparatively small tail, which is often held aloft. Wolves nowadays rarely molest man.
Coyote
(Canis latrans)
The common coyote is like a small and delicate edition of the gray wolf. It is much smaller, weighing only twenty to thirty pounds, and is distinguished by its sharp, fox-like muzzle and large bushy tail, which is rarely raised to the level. In color it is much like the ordinary gray wolf but usually more tinged with yellow. It is found in all the interior country from Wisconsin to Oregon and from Mexico to Great Slave Lake. There are several different varieties. It never attacks man.
Otter
Otter
(Lutra canadensis)
The otter is a large water weasel with close, dense, shiny fur and webbed feet. It is known by its color–dark brown above shaded into dark gray below and white on the cheeks without any markings–and by its size. It is about forty inches long and weighs about twenty pounds. It is found throughout North America within the limit of trees. Its fur is very valuable. It feeds on fish.
Weasel
Weasel
(Putorius noveboracensis)
The common weasel of New England is about the size of a big rat; that is, it is sixteen inches long and all brown with the exception of white chin, throat, breast, and paws, and black tip to the tail. In winter it turns white except the tail tip; that does not change.
The whole continent is inhabited by weasels of one kind or another. To the north there is a smaller kind with shorter tail; on the prairies a large kind with a very long tail; but all are of the same general style and habits. A very small one, {140} the least weasel, is only six inches long. It is found chiefly in Canada.
Mink
Mink
(Putorius vison)
The mink is simply a water weasel. It is known by its size, larger than that of a common weasel, as it is twenty-four inches long of which the tail is seven inches; also by its deep brown color all over except the throat and chin which are pure white. Its fur is brown, harder and glossier than that of the marten, and worth about a quarter as much. It does not turn white in the winter. One form or another of mink is found over all the unarid parts of North America from the north limit of trees to the Gulf of Mexico.
Skunk
Skunk
(Mephitis mephitica)
The skunk is known at once by its black coat with white stripes, its immense bushy tail tipped with white, and its size, nearly that of a cat. It weighs three to seven pounds. It ranges from Virginia to Hudson Bay. In the Northwest is a larger kind weighing twice as much and with black tip to tail. Various kinds range over the continent south of latitude 55 degrees. It is harmless and beautiful. The smell gun for which it is famous is a liquid musk; this is never used except in the extreme of self-defence.
Badger
Badger
(Taxidea taxus)
The common badger is known by its general whitish-gray color, the black and white markings on the head, the black paws, and the strong claws for digging. It weighs from twelve to twenty-two pounds. That is, it is about the size of a ‘coon. {141} It is found in all the prairie and plains country from the Saskatchewan Valley to Mexico and from Wisconsin to the Pacific.
Racoon
Raccoon
(Procyon lotor)
The ‘coon looks like a small gray bear with a bushy ringed tail and a large black patch on each eye. Its paws look like hands, and it has the full number of five fingers or toes on each extremity. It is found in all wooded regions from Manitoba south to Mexico and from Atlantic to Pacific, except the desert and Rocky Mountain region.
Opossum
Opossum
(Didelphis marsupialis)
The opossum is famous for carrying its young in a pouch in front of the body. It may be known by its dirty-white woolly fur, its long, naked, prehensile tail, its hand-like paws, its white face and sharp muzzle, and the naked pink and blue ears. In size it resembles a cat. The ‘possum is found from Connecticut to Florida and westerly to California.
Gray Squirrel
Gray-squirrel
(Sciurus carolinensis)
America is particularly rich in squirrels. Not counting ground-squirrels or chipmunks, we have over seventy-five different forms on this continent. The widest spread is probably the red-squirrel; but the best known in the United States is the common gray-squirrel. Its gray coat white breast, and immense {142} bushy tail are familiar to all eastern children. It is found in most of the hardwood timber east of the Mississippi and south of the Ottawa River and the State of Maine. Most of the nut trees in the woods of this region were planted by the gray-squirrel.
Black Bear
(Ursus americanus)
This is the common bear of America. It is known at once by its jet black color and brown nose. Its claws are short, rarely over an inch long, and curved, serving better as climbers than do the long claws of the grizzly. Two hundred pounds would be a good sized female, three hundred a male; but Florida black bears have been taken weighing five hundred pounds. Sometimes freaks with cinnamon-brown coats are found.
This bear is found throughout North America wherever there is timber.
