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:
ERNEST THOMPSON SETOV
jAutuor oF Wild Animals [Have Known,
io Little Savages Biography ofa Griz,
Life Mistories of No orthern Animals.
olf in the Woods. The Foresters’ Manual
Head Chief of the Indian Scouts
and of the Seton Indians.
Garden City
Doubleday Page ro Company
—MCMXII
PREFACE
For over twenty-five years I have been giving the talks and
demonstrations that are gathered together in this book. Many
of them have appeared in magazines or in the “Birch-Bark
Roll” that has come out annually for ten years. But this is
the first time in which a comprehensive collection has been
made of the activities, customs, laws, and amusements that
have been developed in my camps.
Some of the related subjects I have treated at too great length
for enclosure in one book. Of this class are the “ Life Histories
of Northern Animals,” “ Animal Stories,” “Sign Language”’ and
“Forestry,” which appear as separate works. All are merely
parts of a scheme that I have always considered my life work,
namely, the development or revival of Woodcraft as a school for
Manhood.
By Woodcraft I mean outdoor life in its broadest sense and
the plan has ever been with me since boyhood.
Woodcraft is the first of all the sciences. It was Woodcraft
that made man out of brutish material, and Woodcraft in its
highest form may save him from decay.
As the model for outdoor life in this country I took the
Indian, and have thus been obliged to defend him against the
calumnies of those who coveted his possessions. In giving
these few historical extracts to show the Indian character, it
must be remembered that I could give hundreds, and that prac-
tically all the travelers who saw with their own eyes are of one
mind in the matter.
Commissioner Robert G. Valentine, of the Indian Bureau,
the first Indian Commissioner we have ever had who knew and
sympathized with the Indians, writes after reading my manu-
script: >
Vv
Preface
“On the question of the character of the Indians I am in
absolute accord with you on everything that I believe any one
would consider a basic point. In speech after speech I have
fought the idea that Indians were cruel or lazy or vicious, and
dwelt on their positive virtues — among these their sense of
humor, and their deep reverence.”
The portions of the manuscript called “Spartans of the West,”
and “‘Campfire Stories of Indian Character,” have been sub-
mitted to George Bird Grinnell, of New York, whose life has
been largely spent among the Indians, and have received from
him a complete endorsement.
In a similar vein I have heard from Dr. Charles A. Eastman,
and from nearly all of the many who have seen the manuscript.
Some of my friends at the Smithsonian Institution take excep-
tion to certain details, but no one denies the main contentions
in regard to the character of the Indian, or the historical ac-
curacy of the ‘Campfire Stories.”
Gen. Nelson A. Miles, for example, writes me: ‘History can
show no parallel to the heroism and fortitude of the American
Indians in the two hundred years’ fight during which they
contested inch by inch the possession of their country against a
foe infinitely better equipped with inexhaustible resources, and
in overwhelming numbers. Had they even been equal in
numbers, history might have had a very different story to tell.”
I was taught to glorify the names of Xenophon, Leonidas,
Spartacus, the Founders of the Dutch Republic or the Noble
Six Hundred at Balaclava, as the ideals of human courage
and self-sacrifice, and yet I know of nothing in all history that
will compare with the story of Dull Knife as a narrative of
magnificent heroism and human fortitude.
While I set out only to justify the Indian as a model for our
boys in camp, I am not without hope that this may lead to a
measure of long-delayed justice being accorded him. He asks
only the same rights as are allowed without question to all other
men in America — the protection of the courts, the right to
select his own religion, dress, amusements, and the equal
vi
Preface
right to the pursuit of happiness so long as his methods do not
conflict with the greater law of the land.
This book is really the eleventh edition of the “Birch-Bark
Roll,” which I have published yearly and expanded yearly since
1902. On the first day of July that year I founded the first
band of Woodcraft Indians. Since then the growth of the
movement has called for constant revision and expansion. In
the present volume, for the first time, I have fully set forth a
justification of my Indian Ideal.
I am deeply indebted to my friend, Edgar Beecher Bronson,
for permission to include the History of Chief Dull Knife’s
March, which appeared in his ‘‘Reminiscences of a Ranch-
man.” It is astory that should be known to all the world.
I have also to express my obligations to Messrs. Charles
Scribner’s Sons for permission to quote from Capt. J. O. Bourke’s
writings, to J. W. Schultz for the use of his charming story of
“No-Heart,” to Messrs. The Fleming H. Revell Co., for permis-
sion to quote F. W. Calkins’ story of the “Two Wilderness
Voyagers,” to Miss Alice C. Fletcher for the use of two Indian
songs from her book “Indian Story and Song,” as noted, to
Edward S. Curtis for the use of Sitting Bull’s ‘War Song,”
to Miller Jordan and Geo. L. White for help in revising the
parts on organization and honors; to Dr. Clinton L. Bagg
for help in the “First Aid.” To Dr. C. C. Curtis for the identi-
fication of toadstools; to Dr. Charles A. Eastman (Ohiyesa)
for general criticism and for special assistance in the chapters on
“The Indian’s Creed,” “‘Teepee Etiquette, ” and the ‘‘ Teachings
of Wabasha I.”
Also to Robert G. Valentine (Indian Commissioner) and
George Bird Grinnell of New York for critical reading of the
historical parts of the book.
When I was a boy I hungered beyond expression for just
such information as I have tried herein to impart. It would
be a great joy to me if I could reach and help a considerable
number of such heart-hungry boys tormented with an insatiate
vii
Preface
instinct for the woods, and if I fail of this, I shall at least have
the lasting pleasures of having lived through these things
myself and of having written about them.
adh 1, 49 / ha) el
CONTENTS
Preface
Table of the Seventeen Sections:
I. PRINCIPLES OF SCOUTING
Nine Important Principles .
Recreation . ;
Camp-life . .
Self-government, with Adult Guidance
The Magic of the Campfire é
Woodcraft Pursuits x
Honors by Standards ;
Personal Decoration for Personal Nchiewe-
ments
A Heroic Tdeal $
Picturesqueness in Everything :
The Ideal . :
II. THe SPARTANS OF THE WEST
The Indian Way .
The Indian’s Creed
The Dark Side
The Bright Side
Reverence
Cleanliness
Chastity .
Bravery .
Thrift and Providence : :
Cheerfulness or the ner, Indian
Obedience F
Kindness
Hospitality : :
Treatment of Their Women ;
Courtesy and Polite Behavior
Honesty .
ix
AnA DAR
“Iw OD OV
Contents
THE SPARTANS OF THE West—Continued
Truthfulness and Honor
Temperance and Sobriety .
Physique . ee
In General
Summary :
Standard Indian Books
III. Tae Purpose AND LAWS OF THE WooDCRAFT INDIANS
The Redman’s Way.
Watchword .
Totem
War-cry.
Sign
The Laws. : é
The Rulers of the N ation ,
The Great Council
The High Council of Guidance
The Medicine Lodge or Mh a of the ¢ Old
Guides . :
The Initiation of a Brave .
The Little Lodge
The Big Lodge
The Laws for the Ruling 0 of the Tribe .
1. Name
2. Pursose.”
3. Who May Enter .
4, Councils” \;
5. The Rulers of ‘the Tribe
The Vow of the Head Chief
The Vow of Each Brave
6. Changes of the Law
7. Dues :
Secret
Laws and Punishments :
The Band or Clan .
Costumes . et.
Titles of Nobles .
Badges of Rank .
The Standard
Totems
Contents
‘PURPOSE AND LAWS OF THE WoopcraFT INDIANS—Continued
Order of Doings in Council
How to Begin .
The Tally Book and ‘How to Keep It
For Example ae :
The Indian Laws in Brief .
The War-cry of the Band .
IV. Honors AND DEGRBES AND INDIAN NAMES:
Honors
Decorations for Individual Honors
Decorations for Group Honors or Degrees .
Standards of Honors
Red Honors:
Heroism .
Iida)
Gee Athletics
Athletic Specialties .
Water Sports and Travel .
Mountain Climbing
Target Shooting
Eyesight . ,
Big-game Hunting :
White Honors:
Campercraft and Scouting
Archery :
Long Range, Clout, or st Flight t Shooting
Fishing Se
Bait Casting
Blue Honors:
Nature Study — Vertebrates .
Nature Study — Lower Forms of Life .
Geology, etc.
Photography
THE DEGREES IN WoopcRAFT
Athlete (Song-adis)
Camper (Gabeshiked) ;
Camp Cook (Chabakwed) .
Camp Craftsman (Enokid)
Camp Doctor (Mashkiki)
xi
Contents
DEGREES IN WoopcraFrt—Continued
Canoeman (Chemaunigan)
Fisherman (Gagoiked)
Forester (Mitigwakid)
Frontier Scout (Gimab) .
Gleeman or Camp Conjurer (Nagamed) |
Herald or Crier (Bibaged) .
Horseman (Bebamomigod) .
Hunter (Gaossed)
Mountaineer (Wadjiwed) :
Pathfinder or Scout (Mikan)
Scout Runner (Kee-mo-sah’-bee)
Sharpshooter (Godaakwed)
Star Wiseman (Gijiged)
Swimmer (Shingebis)
Traveler (Bebamadisid) .
Village Scout or Big Village Scout (Odena-
winini) :
Whiteman’s Woodcraft (Dibaakid)
Wise Woodman (Nibwaka-winini)
Winning a Name .
Indian Names that Have Been Won by Scouts
English Names that Have Been Given .
Indian Names Given in Ridicule .
English Names Given in Ridicule
Names Given to Women
V. Woopianp Soncs, DANCES, AND CEREMONIES
Omaha Tribal Prayer
Sitting Bull’s War Song
The Ghost Dance Song .
The Peace Pipe meme
The Scalp Dance
Bird Dance Song.
The Mujje Mukesin .
The Lament é
The Caribou Dance . ; ;
The Dance of the White Caribou .
The Dog Dance . 4
The Ojibwa Snake Dance .
xii
124
T25
126
128
120
129
130
131i
Toa
133
134
135
136
137
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
144
144
145
146
147
148
AQ
150
150
152
ree
154
156
158
a
Contents
WooDLAND Soncs, DANCES, AND CEREMONIES—Continued
The Hunting of Mishi-Mokwa
Indian Song Books . 9 :.). . .
The Weasel in the Wood . Bante
Le Furet .. OS Me Aa ea
Rouser or Reveille
VI. SuccEsTtED PROGRAMS
A Series of Monthly Programs
Suggestions for Evenings
Animal Story Books for Evenings
Indoor or Winter Activities
Handicraft . :
Games
Studies .
Songs
Breet ee Fa, s. Af ah tan vaste tek ce 8
Robe Contest. SPER at Gua ts) is
Suggested Camp Routine
Good Program of an Entertainment at a
Council
Indoor Competition for a Prize
Ouc-day Hikes 36 kes
VII. GENERAL ScouTING INDOORS
Handicraft Stunts
Fork and Spoon
Needle Case
Tackle Box F :
Peach Stone Basket :
Turkey Call .
Chicken Squawk
Picture Frames . ,
Birch-bark Vessels
Souvenir Spoons
Knots .
Fireside Trick ,
The Lone Star Trick Me OP net
Bird Boxes or Houses: 0c ie se
How to Raise Some Money .. . : s
159
164
164
165
166
167
Oy
172
173
173
173
174
174
174
174
176
176
176
177
180
180
180
180
180
180
180
180
182
182
183
186
186
187
190
Contents
VIII. GENERAL ScouTING OUTDOORS
Rubbing-stick Fire (i703. «| +s. 4
Hiking in the Snowy. ss) 1.0
Weather) Wisdom «{ S)s2)\".<..3.. 2.4 4) ae
Outdoor Proverbs "A 04) ©... 47
The-Stars. . + 2 2
The Pleiades as a | Test of Eyesight . |.) ie
The wir Stars), . 4
The Planets, 2 j<') eee hee, os or
The. Moon”... ..2)7. 34 Sateen ees Oe
Making a Dam . PUR PONTOOMUNEY ema
When Lost in the Woods. . . sj: |
Indian Tweezers ws a ei RS Sa te ee
A Home-made Compass . 206
An Indian Clock, Shadow Clock or Sundial «5 ea
Diehtsr wee tds a te eae
Hunter's: Lamp’). .° . .« |.) eae
Woodman’s Lantern . . .- \. 2 eee
Camp Loom and Grass Mats. ... 2 -ig@me
Navaho, Loom? /) . 3) 4... 6
Camp” Rake’ o's ti.) ) a pa A rr
Camp. Broom.) 2) je) 3). 3 ja a
Building a Boat: 0) 4°. 2 ae
A Dugout Canoe, . 0. 8) ee
Camp Hora... js) sce, ees ae
Sleep Outdoors. <2.) .)/.. 5) au
The Gee-string Camp, .<.\ 5.2 2)" eee
IX. SIGNALING AND INDIAN SIGNS
Sign Language’... 2) .) .. = yA ee
Picture-writing . . tite aj
Blazes and Indian Siens oda TE 2 er
Blazes... 0) GO ORT ee
Stone Signs . eo he Se
Grass and Twig Signs tid ee
Smoke Signals: A.) 9.00.0 2).
Signal. by. Shots) ..%/0-.: .«. ./ 00
Special Signs , 4°. |...
Weather. Signals. . (bs). 3)... 2
Signals on the mae ied oo >) ca ees
Phe: Codes) MIPIM
uy
Contents
SIGNALING AND INDIAN SIGNS—Continued
EOS 77 Ss Snares 2) SRS
Hand, Flag, and Lamp Signals: MDa ti) kee s
Other. Mand Signals’ 20%, 0.6 Se a a ieee
Signals by Engine Whistle). 3)... .) 253
iar Wouistle or Cord-patra sea is is 254
X. CAMPERCRAFT OR THE SUMMER CAMP
Camping Out MeN Te oe 1) ta 9 DIRS
Outfit for Six (one week) . SOP. IS A OR
atuetor Bach. Brave e su leas. 3200
2 0 ie PHO CV NRA EO EES hey 5a), OE
meepee. . SPN ena Nar Wy Wis ONE Ngu, ta Sf BEN
The Camp eee Daa PN eV ee
ibatrine». eh ats a8 = SIG
Arriving on the Camp Ghound Vos oe 263
Camp @iicers;and Government’. >... 263
DRY Re cabs) 06s: 5 Re eZ
Inspection. . Oats ue ROR
The Horns of the High Hikers . ~ s °266
Council-fire Circle . . PMO sc)\ ote, OD
SPRBDEC EME AI Nhe SU Lea gt ttt. ah
Mere AP emg os eh cy, tes, Tbe ao NR ee ca) OB
eds 5. Qh ah tae aa) a BOL
Water or the Indian Well. . . . . 270
Moesamitoess Black: Flies, 6fe.. 0) 6c)... 4. 270
Lice and Vermin . Grae Cac Mitac 28 Sk
Suggested Camp Routine POM ea rere gap at cain
Campfires what BUS aon rar Vat Toe. Vote(s
SO PCHEOTA) BSC A ra Ua eet teye eee GAC Bae
OTST: oh A CO SO aa 2d
ea Oile: COMET ye) syrs') cee ine earth Sra hae the BAG
Deere iM. ot cho heh Co hie heel he OS
EOE LORS RS ih gli leh ie aha A gorau eee
ReaeeerOR TOM LIT icv, Wve Viheelign. no REO
XI. GAMES FoR THE CAMP
See MESURE: og A, eles 280
Tilting Spears. Hi Wend! tiny wagner) y, wT aS
Tilting in the Water SGV Na PSL RUE A Sk IN
Aedes Oto el ae es 282
XV
Contents
GAMES FOR THE Camp— Continued
Still-hunting the Buck, or the Deer Hunt . . 283
The Bear Hunt . . i .
Spearing the Great Sturgeon . 540
Canoe Pag) eae . 9
Scouting 2) ig yee. os SD
Quicksight . eres)
Far-sight or Spot-the-rabbit » « ba
Home Star.or Pole:Star’... .. 5 5 3)
Rabbit Hunt. )..) .) ..480)(6) ie 0
Arrow Fight « boa Shag ei Nahae Ae Ge ar
Hostile Spy (2.0 26) 54) 6
Scout Messenger. . sithj'p | ee ee
Challenge for Scout Messenger jad Wied tere
Tree. the, Coon. 2) <5. 5 Pha bis sarees
Navajo Feather Dance : 4 eee
Feather Football or Feather-blow . . . 207
Cock-fighting ; » 9 a Ne Seen
One-legged Chicken Fight - » 2
Stronghand . . » se)
Badger-pulling . «9! 0g)
Stung, or Step-on-the-rattler «2 Det
Buftalo: Chigsp.\ (ys oele je
Rat-on-his-lodge ._ . oe 6
Watching by the Trail: «. .,:1, 300
Trailing’. MP
Apache Relay Race . MPU
The Weasel in the Wood . . . =. = « gOE
Throwing the Spear. . .. =):
Water-boiling Contest .. >. S00
Medley Scouting: |... 29) 60
XII. HEALTH aND WoopLAND MEDICINE
First Aid:
To Revive from Drow rine , tl!) iS
Sunstroke . oa fe 8”
Burns and Scalds . rou a
Hemorrhage or Internal Bleeding re
Cuts and Wounds . . , | jeyeeee
Lightning . » 9h ee
Shock or Nervous ‘Collapse . eR ee gee
Xvl
Contents
Frrst Arp—Continued
Fainting . = URN? ORR 9 7
Mad Dog or Snake Bite SEN SMa i ya!) cle OO
Picccy Oba. agente Min.) u/gO8
Tests of Death . Bae a. Ses OS
Cinders or Sand in the Eye Piietth ta) a ROO
Books Jrecommended mete RE 308
Wildwood Remedies or Simples:
Antiseptic or Wound Wash. . . . . 309
Basar Wounds i mee ae asa. | BOO
cedias tO! SEO ewty kis Lat eo). se RBOO
Bowel Complaints] ) ie she ats Sep
WEL TOMER GT oi en tenet Mee ie 24 SOG)
AC brill “aa Meyer ee at eure 8 ese\ os) 522, AROO
Wold pe ePerermoune ee. Ne ce Nie) PB
Cough Remedy . rier cin At tan ee
Cough and rmtated Threst 200.7. 312
Cough and ae Sivek “aaa Seay UN NE
Guretic —. S Wie RRO 3:
Face-ache . shoe Ca) eae
Inflammation of the Eyes or Skin. . 312
ae OU SON. BATU i done eS Da ean MORIN 8
Lung Bale Sy Oe aN Sm an a:
Nose-bleed .. Hain Pra A iti 3 1)
Nose Stopped up at Night hy ipacios ee aa
Pipes; and: Skin Rapley cis 2 PR. gE
Poronlivy Sting Ol! Sey) ee oo gre
Rene se Maecenas OC. are
Rha EORE 160150 au tocie Toms Pty aly hy Bed
Se Emery Xt St rae Se aeeene od Pathe CL ai
Perr rIaDASNT +H) 91 5.5 a aU eh cas eal Mal TA
Babes Aly AN OUS) 9 hone CME Ie a,’ BIR
ROMUNLMAE TE Pa ia le NCR Yep ia. a Me te on Gl aoe
SS nats 1D eee i See ae ae I
Tapeworm . Wie dh Bara aa
Throat Irritation (at night) « ein Wee e!) Vane
TOMI) np) : Shee Nee ae
Wash for Sore Throat . Ae GE aI
Worms . . PAM ee he) is EF
Worms and Tonic UE teen (ee CEG
ee
Contents
WILD-wooD REMEDIES OR SIMPLES—Continued
Wound Wash, (see Antiseptic) «hen
Indian Bath or Sweat Lodge 4
Latane)\))). 2. |) a
The Keen Eyes of the Indian er
Near-sightedness . . . i)
The Remedy’ (.)02 04.0 29 2)
Dry ‘Socks, . See
Shut Your Mouth and Save Your Life. . 320
Don’t Turn out Your Toes; Much ..) eames
Tobacco, 9.) 2 \\s) vena een ene
Sex (Matters i: We . ae
Starvation Foods in the Northern Woods . 324
Rabbits). 3.6).
Mice 9.0) se we
Ants 0 0.0. 6.)
Insect Borers . . Mee
Rawhide and Leather . - «| Se eee
Bark and Buds . . . . =a
Toadstools:.° 2. |...)
Lichens,.,. 20 .)640 «i. .)
Iceland‘Moss... . » «3 3))) a
Reindeer Moss ..)0.- 0...) 2) 2
Rock Pipe: \. MEP rn Ge
Drinks: Labrador Tea PM. cay Oe
XIII. Natura History
Our Common Birds, or Forty Birds that
Every Boy Should Know. . . 334
How: to Stuff a Bird .. . ..32 ees
Making a Skin.) 0.4)... Re
Mounting the Bird °. 20.4509).
Owl-stuffing Plate’... >.) 2.9). 2) 2)
Stuffing an Animal . . . «)
Preserving Small Mammal Skins . 2 ee
Directions for Measurement Bik"
Directions for the Preparation of Skins Ee ey
Trapping Animals . . «| ae
The Secrets of the Trail. . 369
Trailing. . «ite a ae ae
Hard to Photograph Tracks «an aaenee 370
XVili
Contents
NATURAL History — Continued
No Two Tracks alike.
Dog and Cat .
Wolf
Rabbits and Bares’
The Newton Jack- rabbit.
Tox’. :
The Fox’s Hunt
Closing In .
Books and Articles Recommended ;
XIV. MusHrooms,
Abundance
Dangers
Symptoms of Poisonin P
Remedy .
To Make Spore Prints for Study ;
Poisonous Toadstools
Unwholesome but Not Deadly Toadstools
Wholesome Toadstools .
Uncertain Kinds
Cautions for the Inexperienced
Mushroom Growing .
Books Recommended.
XV. FORESTRY
Fifty Common Forest Trees of Eastern North
FUNGI OR TOADSTOOLS
America
Pines .
Spruces
Cedars
Poplars
Walnuts .
Birches
Hornbeams
Oaks .
Chestnuts
Elms .
Gums.
Maples
Basswoods
37!
372
Bie)
Vath
379
382
385
388
399
391
392
392
392
393
394
399
402
407
409
409
409
4II
4II
413
415
417
418
423
425
426
431
431
430
438
440
Contents
ForESTRY—Continued ae
ASUICS ys. eae a
Books Recommended .. . . . . . 443
XVI. Some INDIAN Ways
Teepecss (243) ~ i « sn
Storm-cap or Bull Boat rr
Putting up the Bae oe 3
Teepee lite tc elie oe oo) fe
Hairy-Wolf’s T cepee oS) cal a er
Artie : a ohn aah ee Gs ii
Tridian! Saats NA aaa 2, Viele tls le eee
Head: Bands): oe AA lean
Warbonnet or Headdress . . . . . . 459
its Meaning” .... .° 5 /) 2)
Plenty-Coups end ah - 3
Details of the Warbonnet ree
Making the Warbonnet . . cpu
Indian'Costume’.. «. . -. |...
War-shirt 2008. wa.
Leggings (|). 0 2. te
Moccasins). 6) 0.) re
War-clobse 2) se LS
Paddles IS a Ot ee ee
Dra. ee el as Oe rr
Peace Vipews . » ot as
The Indian or Willow Bed . . . . . 471
Indian Paints . . we (act) pas an
Indian’ Dyes. 720. 477
Naming the Camp or K ccping the Winter Count 478
Archery : : 478
How to Make a’ Bow...) a:c2u/t) anne 479
Holding and Drawing . . 0 te eee
The Warbow of the ‘Penobscots . . Sa
Scalpsist. Feo RM
Indian Work iL oe). |.
XVII. CAmprrrE STORIES OR GLIMPSES OF INDIAN
CHARACTER
The Teachings of Winnemucca . . 4 95) 485
The Teachings of Wabasha I. | 20ers
xX
Contents
CAMPFIRE STORIES OR GLIMPSES OF INDIAN CHARACTER
—Continued
whe Lessons: of Lone’ Chief) 046200. 486
The Teachings of Tshut-che-nau. . . . 487
Courage or the Trained Scout. . . . 488
paul inline Prayer): Guee heh wulusiere) Ss 488
Genesis (Omaha) . BREW eS Aan su aR
The Quiché’s Story of Creation . . . . 489
Clean Fatherhood ARNT
BPM ee) se) MO
ea Proverbs: en Mela b wy CCM! eo 490
The Medicine Man and His Waysiic (ss saad
aie Indian Silenced ws ect ane 2.) 491
The Indian Babes in the Woods Se cee
the Story of No-Hearh 5°) 493
Tecumseh CCG SN RMN Sn TOE REPRE eo
Kanakuk, the Kickapoo Prophet eee
Chief Joseph of the Sahaptin ge oe NTd Site
White Calf, Chief of the Blackfeet . . . 507
Wovoka, the Prophet . ; Nba Oe tO
aie Apache Indian’s Case...) 513
The Wiping-out of Nanni-Chaddi . . . 515
The Ending of Dull Knife’s Band . . . 524.
Wie Message of the Indian:\'.. . . ..) . 548
LOTTE AGS UR Pe Cy 553
ana
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I, Principles of Scouting
Nine Important Principles of Scouting
HIS is.a time when the whole nation is turning
toward the Outdoor Life, seeking in it the physical
regeneration so needful for continued national
existence — is waking to the fact long known to thoughtful
men, that those live longest who live nearest to the ground
— that is, who live the simple life of primitive times, dives-
ted, however, of the evils that ignorance in those times begot.
Consumption, the white man’s plague since he has_ be-
come a house race, is vanquished by the sun and air, and
many ills of the mind also are forgotten when the sufferer
boldly takes to the life in tents.
Half our diseases are in our minds and half in our houses.
We can safely leave the rest to the physicians for treatment.
Sport is the great incentive to Outdoor Life; Nature
Study is the intellectual side of sport.
I should like to lead this whole nation into the way of
living outdoors for at least a month each year, reviving and
expanding a custom that as far back as Moses was deemed
essential to the national well-being.
Not long ago a benevolent rich man, impressed with this
idea, chartered a steamer and took some hundreds of slum
boys up to the Catskills for a day in the woods. They were
duly landed and told to ‘‘go in now and have a glorious
time.”” It was like gathering up a netful of catfish and
3
4 The Book of Woodcraft
throwing them into the woods, saying, ‘‘Go and have a
glorious time.’’
The boys sulked around and sullenly disappeared. An
hour later, on being looked up, they were found in groups
under the bushes, smoking cigarettes, shooting “craps,”
and playing cards — the only things they knew.
Thus the well-meaning rich man learned that it is not
enough to take men out of doors. We much also teach
them to enjoy it.
The purpose of this book is to show how Outdoor Life
may be followed to advantage.
Nine leading principles are kept in view:
(x) This movement is essentially for recreation.
(2) Camp-life. Camping is the simple life reduced to
actual practice, as well as the culmination of the outdoor life.
Camping has no great popularity to-day, because men
have the idea that it is possible only after an expensive
journey to the wilderness; and women that it is inconven-
ient, dirty, and dangerous.
These are errors. They have arisen because camping as
an art is not understood. When intelligently followed,
camp-life must take its place as a cheap and delightful way
of living, as well as a mental and physical savior of those
strained or broken by the grind of the over-busy world.
The wilderness affords the ideal camping, but many of
the benefits can be got by living in a tent on a town lot,
a piazza, or even a housetop.
(3) Self-government with Adult Guidance. Control from
without is a poor thing when you can get control from
within. As far as possible, then, we make these camps self-
governing. Each full member has a vote in affairs.
(4) The Magic of the Campfire. What is a camp with-
out a campfire? — no camp at all, but a chilly place in a
Principles of Scouting 5
landscape, where some people happen to have some
things.
When first the brutal anthropoid stood up and walked
erect — was man, the great event was symbolized and
marked by the lighting of the first campfire. 7
For millions of years our race has seen in this blessed fire,
the means and emblem of light, warmth, protection, friendly
gathering, council. All the hallow of the ancient thoughts,
hearth, fireside, home is centred in its glow, and the home-
tie itself is weakened with the waning of the home-fire.
Not in the steam radiator can we find the spell; not in the
water coil; not even in the gas log; they do not reach the
heart. Only the ancient sacred fire of wood has power to
touch and thrill the chords of primitive remembrance.
When men sit together at the campfire they seem to shed
all modern form and poise, and hark back to the primitive
—to meet as man and man—to show the naked soul.
Your campfire partner wins your love, or hate, mostly
your love; and having camped in peace together, is a lasting
bond of union — however wide your worlds may be apart.
The campfire, then, is the focal centre of all primitive
brotherhood. We shall not fail to use its magic powers.
(5) Woodcraft Pursuits. Realizing that manhood, not
scholarship, is the first aim of education, we have sought out
those pursuits which develop the finest character, the finest
physique, and which may be followed out of doors, which, in
a word, make for manhood.
By nearly every process of logic we are led primarily to
Woodcraft — that is, Woodcraft in a large sense — meaning
every accomplishment of an all-round Woodman — Rid-
ing, Hunting, Camper-craft, Scouting, Mountaineering,
Indian-craft, First aid, Star-craft, Signaling, and Boating.
To this we add all good Outdoor Athletics and Sports,
including Sailing and Motoring, and Nature Study, of
6 The Book of Woodcraft
which Wild Animal Photography is an important branch;
but above all, Heroism. .
Over three hundred deeds or exploits are recognized in
these various departments, and the members are given
decorations that show what they achieved
(6) Honors by Standards. The competitive principle is
responsible for much that is evil. We see it rampant in
our colleges to-day, where every effort is made to discover
and develop a champion, while the great body of students is
neglected. ‘That is, the ones who are in need of physical
development do not get it, and those who do not need it are
over-developed. ‘The result is much unsoundness of many
kinds. A great deal of this would be avoided if we strove to
bring all the individuals up to a certain standard. In our
non-competitive tests the enemies are not “‘the other fellows,”
but time and space, the forces of Nature. We try not to
down the others, but to raise ourselves. A thorough appli-
cation of this principle would end many of the evils now
demoralizing college athletics. ‘Therefore, all our honors
are bestowed according to world-wide standards. (Prizes
are not honors.)
(7) Personal Decoration for Personal Achievements.
The love of glory is the strongest motive in a savage. Civil-
ized man is supposed to find in high principle his master
impulse. But those who believe that the men of our race,
not to mention boys, are civilized in this highest sense,
would be greatly surprised if confronted with figures.
Nevertheless, a human weakness may be good material to
work with. I face the facts as they are. All have a chance
for glory through the standards, and we blazon it forth in
personal decorations that all can see, have, and desire.
(8) A Heroic Ideal. The boy from ten to fifteen, like the
savage, is purely physical in his ideals. I do not know that
I ever met a boy that would not rather be John L. Sullivan
Principles of Scouting | 7
than Darwin or Tolstoi. Therefore, I accept the fact, and
seek to keep in view an ideal that is physical, but also clean,
manly, heroic, already familiar, and leading with certainty
to higher things.
(9) Picturesqueness in Everything. Very great impor-
tance should be attached to this. The effect of the pictur-
esque is magical, and all the more subtle and irresistible
because it is not on the face of it reasonable. The charm of
titles and gay costumes, of the beautiful in ceremony,
phrase, dance, and song, are utilized in all ways.
THE IDEAL
When two or three young people camp out, they can live
as a sort of family, especially if a grown-up be with them;
but when a dozen or more are of the party, it is necessary
to organize.
What manner of organization will be practical, and also
give full recognition to the nine principles of scouting?
What form of government lends itself best to —
Recreation;
Outdoor Life;
Self-rule;
The Campfire;
Woodcraft traditions;
Honors by standards;
Personal decoration for personal achievement;
A heroic ideal;
Picturesqueness in all things?
In my opinion, the Tribal or Indian form of organization.
Fundamentally, this is a republic or limited monarchy,
and many experiments have proved it best for our purpose.
It makes its members self-governing; it offers appropriate
things to do outdoors; it is so plastic that it can be adopted
8 The Book of Woodcraft
in whole or in part, at once or gradually; its picturesqueness
takes immediate hold of all; and it lends itself so well to our
object that, soon or late, other forms of organization are
forced into its essentials.
No large band of boys ever yet camped out for a month
without finding it necessary to recognize a leader, a senior
form (or ruling set whose position rests on merit), some
wise grown person to guide them in difficulties, and a place
to display the emblems of the camp; that is, they have
adopted the system of the Chief, Council, Medicine Man
and Totem-pole.
Moreover, the Ideal Indian stands for the highest type
of primitive life. He was a master of woodcraft, and
unsordid, clean, manly, heroic, self-controlled, reverent,
truthful, and picturesque always.
America owes much to the Redman. When the struggle
for freedom came on, it was between men of the same blood
and bone, equal in brains and in strength. The British
had the better equipment perhaps. The great advantage
of the American was that he was a trained scout, and this
training which gave him the victory he got from the
Redman.
But the Redman can do a greater service now and
in the future. He can teach us the ways of outdoor
life, the nobility of courage, the joy of beauty, the
blessedness of enough, the glory of service, the power
of kindness, the super-excellence of peace of mind and
the scorn of death. For these were the things that the
Redman stood for; these were the sum of his faith.
II. The Spartans of the West
O WORLD-MOVEMENT ever yet grew as a mere
N doctrine. It must have some noble example; a
living, appealing personality; some man to whom
we can point and say, ‘‘This is what we mean.” All the
great faiths of the world have had such a man, and for lack
of one, many great and flawless truths have passed into the
lumber-room.
To exemplify my outdoor movement, I must have a man
who was of this country and climate; who was physically
beautiful, clean, unsordid, high-minded, heroic, picturesque,
and a master of Woodcraft, besides which, he must be al-
ready well-known. I would gladly have taken a man of our
own race, but I could find none. Rollo the Sea-King,
King Arthur, Leif Ericsson, Robin Hood, Leatherstocking,
all suggested themselves, but none seemed to meet the
requirements, and most were mere shadows, utterly un-
known. Surely, all this pointed the same way. There
was but one figure that seemed to answer all these needs:
that was the Ideal Indian of Fenimore Cooper and Long-
fellow.
For this reason, I took the Native American, and called
my organization ‘Woodcraft Indians.”* And yet, I am
told that the prejudice against the word ‘‘Indian” has
hurt the movement immensely. If so, it is because we do
not know what the Indian was, and this I shall make it my
*Also called Seton Indians and Indian'Scouts.
9
IO The Book of Woodcraft
sad and hopeful task, at this late day, to have our people
realize.
We know more about the Redman to-day than ever we
did. Indeed, we knew almost nothing of him twenty years
ago. We had two pictures offered us; one, the ideal savage
of Longfellow, the primitive man, so noble in nature that he
was incapable of anything small or mean or wicked; the
other was presented by those who coveted his possessions,
and, to justify their robberies, they sketched the Indian
as a dirty, filthy, squalid wretch, a demon of cruelty and
cowardice, incapable of a human emotion, and never good
till dead.
Which of these is the true picture? Let us calmly ex-
amine the pages of history, taking the words and records of
Redmen and white, friends and foes of the Indian, and be
prepared to render a verdict, in absolute accordance with
that evidence, no matter where it leads us.
Let us begin by admitting that it is fair to take the best
examples of the red race, to represent Indian philosophy
and goodness; even as we ourselves would prefer being
represented by Emerson, Tolstoi, Lincoln, Spencer, Pea-
body, General Booth, or Whitman, rather than by the
border ruffians and cut-throat outlaws who were the prin-
cipal exemplars of our ways among the Indians.
It is freely admitted that in all tribes, at all times, there
were reprobates and scoundrels, a reproach to the people;
just as amongst ourselves we have outcasts, tramps, drunk-
ards, and criminals. But these were despised by their own
people, and barely tolerated.
We must in fairness judge the Indian and his way of life
and thought by the exemplifications of his best types:
Hiawatha, Wabasha I, Tshut-che-nau, Ma-to-to-pa, Te-
cumseh, Kanakuk, Chief Joseph, Dull Knife, Washakie,
The Spartans of the West II
and many that loved their own people and were in no wise
touched by the doctrines of the whites.
If from these men we gather their beliefs, their teachings,
and the common thoughts that guided their lives, we may
fairly assume that we have outlined the creed of the best
Indians.
THE INDIAN’S CREED
These are the main thoughts in the Redman’s creed:
(1) While he believed in many gods, he accepted the
idea of one Supreme Spirit, who was everywhere all the
time; whose help was needed continually, and might be
secured by prayer and sacrifice.
(2) He believed in the immortality of the soul, and that
its future condition was to be determined by its behavior in
this life.
(3) He reverenced his body as the sacred temple of his
spirit; and believed it his duty in all ways to perfect his
body, that his earthly record might be the better.
We cannot, short of ancient Greece, find his equal in
physical perfection.
(4) He believed in the subjection of the body by fasting,
whenever it seemed necessary for the absolute domination
of the spirit; as when, in some great crisis, that spirit felt
the need for better insight.
(5) He believed in reverence for his parents, and in old
age supported them, even as he expected his children to
support him.
(6) He believed in the sacredness of property. Theft
among Indians was unknown.
(7) He believed that the murderer must expiate his
crime with his life; that the nearest kin was the proper
avenger, but that for accidental manslaughter compen-
sation might be made in goods.
12 The Book of Woodcraft
(8) He believed in cleanliness of body.
(9) He believed in purity of morals.
(10) He believed in speaking the truth, and nothing but
the truth. His promise was absolutely binding. He hated
and despised a liar, and held all falsehood to be an abomi-
nation.
(11) He believed in beautifying all things in his life.
He had a song for every occasion — a beautiful prayer
for every stress. His garments were made beautiful with
painted patterns, feathers, and quill-work. He had dances
for every fireside. He has led the world in the making of
beautiful baskets, blankets, and canoes; while the deco-
rations he put on lodges, weapons, clothes, dishes, and
dwellings, beds, cradles, or grave-boards, were among the
countless evidences of his pleasure in the beautiful, as he
understood it.
(12) He believed in the simple life.
He held, first, that land belonged to the tribe, not to the
individual; next, that the accumulation of property was the
beginning of greed that grew into monstrous crime.
(13) He believed in peace and the sacred obligations af
hospitality.
(14) He believed that the noblest of virtues was cour-
age, and that, above all other qualities, he worshipped and
prayed for. So also he believed that the most shameful of
crimes was being afraid.
(15) He believed that he should so live his life that the
fear of death could never enter into his heart; that when the
last call came he should put on the paint and honors of a
hero going home, then sing his death song and meet the
end in triumph.
If we measure this great pagan by our Ten Command-
ments, we shall find that he accepted and obeyed them, all
The Spartans of the West 13
but the first and third: that is, he had many lesser gods
besides the one Great Spirit, and he knew not the Sabbath
Day of rest. His religious faith, therefore, was much the
same as that of the mighty Greeks, before whom all the
world of learning bows; not unlike that of many Christians
and several stages higher than that of the Huxley and
other modern schools of materialism.
THE DARK SIDE
These are the chief charges against the Indian:
First: He was cruel to his enemies, even torturing them
at the stake in extreme cases. He knew nothing about for-
giving and loving them.
In the main, thisis true. But how much less cruel he was
than the leaders of the Christian Church in the Middle
Ages! What Indian massacre will compare in horror with
that of St. Bartholomew’s Eve or the Massacre of Glencoe?
Read the records of the Inquisition, or the Queen Mary
persecutions in England, or the later James II. abomina-
tions for further light!
There was no torture used by the Indians that was not
also used by the Spainards. Every frontiersman of the
Indian days knows that in every outbreak the whites were
the aggressors; and that in every evil count — robbery,
torture and massacre — they did exactly as the In-
dians did. ‘‘The ferocity of the Redman,” says Bourke,
“has been more than equaled by the ferocity of the
Christian Caucasian.” (‘‘On the Border with Crook,”
p. 114.)
There are good grounds for stating that the Indians were
cruel to their enemies, but it is surprising to see how little of
this cruelty there was in primitive days. In most cases the
enemy was killed in battle or adopted into the tribe; very,
14 The Book of Woodcraft
very rarely was he tortured. Captain Clark says of the
Cheyennes:
“There is no good evidence that captives have been burned
at the stake, flayed alive, or any other excruciating torture
inflicted on persons captured by these fierce, war-loving and
enterprising barbarians.” (‘‘ Sign Language,” p. 106.)
But we know now that the whites did use diabolical
tortures in their dealings with the Indian, and deliberately
and persistently misrepresented him in order to justify
their own atrocities.
The whites, however, had print to state their case, while
the Indians had none to tell their story or defend them.
Furthermore, it is notorious that all massacres of Indians
by the whites were accomplished by treachery im times of
peace, while all Indian massacres of whites were im time of
war, to resist invasion. At present, I know of no exception
to this rule.*
In almost every case, it must be said that the army
officers and men were personally guiltless. They were
impressed with the heroism of the Indians, admired them
for their bravery, were horrified by the wickedness of the
orders sent them, and did all they could to mitigate the
atrocious policies of the shameless Indian Bureau. But
there were instances in which the army officers showed
themselves the willing tools of the politicians. Among the
notorious cases was the cold-blooded massacre, in 1864, by
Col. J. H. Chivington, of several hundred Cheyennes.
Men, women, and children had surrendered and disarmed,
and were, indeed, at the time, under military protection.
The fiendish cruelty and cowardice of that one attack on
these defenseless beings was enough to more than justify
_*Many supposed massacres by Indians are now known to have been the work of
whites disguised as Indians.
The Spartans of the West Le
everything the Cheyennes have ever done to the race of the
assassins. (See “‘Century of Dishonor,” pp. 341-358.)
Still worse was the Baker massacre of Blackfeet, on
January 23, 1870.
A border ruffian, a white man named Clark, had assaulted
a young Indian, beating him severely, and the Indian, in
retaliation, had killed Clark and gone off into Canada.
Without troubling to find the guilty party, or even the band
he belonged to, Brevet Col. E. M. Baker, major Second
Cavalry, stationed at Fort Shaw, marched out, under
orders from Gen. Philip H. Sheridan, to the nearest Indian
village, on Marias River; as it happened, they were peace-
able, friendly Indians, under Bear’s Head. Without
warning, the soldiers silently surrounded the sleeping
village. But the story is better told by Schultz, who
was on the spot later, and heard it all from those who
saw:
“Tn a low tone Colonel Baker spoke a few words to his men,
telling them to keep cool, aim to kill, to spare none of the
enemy; and then he gave the command to fire. A terrible
scene ensued. On the day previous, many of the men of the
camp had gone out toward the Sweetgrass Hills on a grand
buffalo hunt; so, save for Chief Bear’s Head and a few old men,
none were there to return the soldiers’ fire. Their first volley
was aimed low down into the lodges, and many of the sleeping
people were killed or wounded in their beds. The rest rushed
out, men, children, women, many of the latter with babes in
their arms, only to be shot down at the doorways of their lodges.
Bear’s Head, frantically waving a paper which bore testimony
to his good character and friendliness to the white men, ran
toward the command on the bluff, shouting to them to cease
firing, entreating them to save the women and children; down
he also went with several bullet holes in his body. Of the more
than four hundred souls in camp at the time, very few escaped.
And when it was all over, when the last wounded woman and
child had been put out of misery, the soldiers piled the corpses
16 The Book of Woodevatt |
on overturned lodges, firewood and household property, and set
fire to it all.
“Several years afterward I was on the ground. Everywhere
scattered about in the long grass and brush, just where the
wolves and foxes had left them, gleamed the skulls and bones of
those who had been so ruthlessly slaughtered. ‘How could
they have done it?’ I asked myself, time and time again.
‘What manner of men were these soldiers who deliberately shot
down defenseless women and innocent children?’ They had not
even the excuse of being drunk; nor was their commanding
officer intoxicated; nor were they excited or in any danger
whatever. Deliberately, coolly, with steady and deadly aim
they shot them down, killed the wounded, and then tried to
burn the bodies of their victims. But I will say no more about
it. Think it over, yourself, and try to find a fit name for men
who did this.” (‘My Life as an Indian,” pp. 41-2.)
According to G. B. Grinnell, one hundred and seventy-six
innocent persons were butchered on this day of shame;
ninety of them women, fifty-five babies, the rest chiefly
very old or very young men, most of the able-bodied
hunters being away on a hunt. No punishment of any
kind was given the monster who did it.
There is no Indian massacre of whites to compare with
this shocking barbarity, for at least the Indian always had
the excuse that war had been declared, and he was acting on the
defensive. Of a similar character were the massacres at
Cos Cob, 1641; Conestoga, 1763; Gnadenwhiitten, 1782;
Coquille River, 1854; Wounded Knee, 1890; and a hundred
more that could be mentioned. And no punishment was ever
meted out to the murderers. Why? First, because appar-
ently the Bureau at Washington approved; second, because
‘‘An Indian has no legal status; he is merely a live and
particularly troublesome animal in the eye of the law.”
(New York Times, February 21, 1880.) (See “Century of
Dishonor,” p. 367.) Governor Horatio Seymour says:
The Spartans of the West 17
“Every human being born upon our continent, or who comes
here from any quarter of the world, whether savage or civilized,
can go to our courts for protection — except those who belong
to the tribes who once owned this country. The cannibal from
the islands of the Pacific, the worst criminals from Europe,
Asia or Africa, can appeal to the law and courts for their rights
of person and property — all save our native Indians, who,
above all, should be protected from wrong.” (Century of
Dishonor,’’ title-page.)
And this is the land whose Constitution grants equal
rights to all alike. This is the land that waxes virtuously
indignant when Russia expels or massacres Nihilists, Poles
or Jews. Have we not enough courage left to face the sim-
ple truth that every crime of despotism in Russia has been
more than doubled in atrocity by what has but recently
been done in America? Nihilists, Jews and Poles were
certainly breaking the law, usually plotting against the
Government, when attacked. Russia never used burnings
at the stake, as did the American unofficial Indian-killers.
And never did Russia turn batteries of machine-guns on
masses of men, women and children who were absolutely
quiet, unarmed, helpless and submissive: who had indeed
thrown themselves on the mercy of the Government, and
were under its protection.
Americans were roused to a fury of indignation by doubt-
ful newspaper accounts of Spanish misrule in Cuba. But
the atrocities so credited to Spain pale into insignificance
beside the unspeakable abominations proved against the
United States by records of its own officials in its dealings
with the native American race during the last hundred
years.
There are many exceptions to this charge that the
Indian is cruel to his enemies, enough, almost, to justify a
complete rebuttal, and among these was none more honor-
18 The Book of Woodcraft
ably distinguished than Tecumseh, the war chief of the.
Shawnees; perhaps the greatest of all historic Indians. —
Like a new incarnation of Hiawatha, he planned a de-
fensive federation of the whole red race, and led them in
war, that he might secure for them lasting peace. All
great Indians had taught the doctrine “Love your friend.”
But Tecumseh was the first in authority to extend the
heaven-taught precept, so they should be kind, at least, to
their enemies; for he put an end in his nation to all tortur-
ing of prisoners.
Above all whose history is fully known, Tecumseh was
the ideal noble Redman realized; nevertheless, he was not
alone; Wabasha, Osceola, Kanakuk, and Wovoka must
be numbered among those whose great hearts reached out
in kindness even to those who hated them.
Tecumseh taught, ‘‘Love your enemy after he is con-
quered”’; Kanakuk preached non-resistance to evil;
Wovoka, ‘‘Be kind to all men.”
Second: The Indian had no property instincts. He was a
Socialist in all matters of large property, such as land, its
fruits, rivers, fish, and game.
So were the early Christians. ‘‘And all that believed
were together; had all things in common, and sold their
possessions and goods, and parted them to all men, as every
man had need.” (Acts, ii., 44-45.)
They considered that every child had a right to a bring-
ing up, and every old person to a free living from the
tribe. We know that it worked well, for there was neither
hunger nor poverty, except when the whole tribe was in
want. And we know also that there were among them no
men of shameful, monstrous wealth.
Third: He was improvident. He is now, just like our
own drunkards. He was ot, until after the Great Degra-
dation that we effected in him. All the old travelers,
The Spartans of the West 19
testify that each Indian village had its fields of corn, beans,
and pumpkins. The crops were harvested and safely
carried them over long periods when there was no other
supply. They did not believe in vast accumulations of
wealth, because their wise men had said that greed would
turn their hearts to stone and make them forget the poor.
Furthermore, since all when strong contributed to the tribe,
the tribe supported them in childhood, sickness and age.
They had no poor; they had no famine until the traders
came with whiskey and committed the crimes ‘for which
we as a nation have yet to answer.
Fourth: He was dirty. Many dirty habits are to be
seen to-day among the Reservation Indians, but it was not
so in the free days. A part of the old Indian’s religion was
to take a bath every day the year round for the helping of
his body. Some tribes bathed twice a day. Every village
had a Turkish bath in continual use. It is only the de-
graded Indian who has become dirty, and many of the
whites who oftenest assail him as filthy never take a bath
from birth to judgment day.
Fifth: He was lazy. No one who saw the Indian in his
ancient form has preferred this charge. He was not fond
of commercial manufacturing, but the regular work of
tilling his little patch of corn and beans he did not shirk, nor
the labor of making weapons and boats, nor the frightful
toil of portaging, hunting and making war. He undertook
these at all times without a murmur.
Many men will not allow their horses to bear such bur-
dens as I saw the Chipewyans bear daily, without a thought
of hardship, accepting all as a part of their daily lot.
Sixth: He degraded woman to be a mere beast of burden.
Some have said so, but the vast bulk of evidence to-day
goes to show that while the women did the household
drudgery and lighter tasks, the men did all the work be-
20 The Book of Woodcraft
yond their partners’ strength. In making clothes, canoes, —
and weapons, as well as in tilling of the fields, men and
women worked together. The woman had a voice in all
the great affairs, and a far better legal position than in most
of the civilized world to-day.
Seventh: He was treacherous. Oh! how ill it becomes us
to mention such a thing! Every authority tells us the
same — that primitive Redman never broke a treaty; his
word was as good as his bond; that the American Govern-
ment broke every treaty as soon as there was something to
gain by doing so. Captain J. G. Bourke thus scores the
continual treachery of the whites: ‘‘The occasional treach-
ery of the aborigines,” says he, ‘‘has found its best excuse
in the unvarying Punic faith of the Caucasian invader.”
(“On the Border with Crook,” p. 114.)
But let us look for evidence of the Indian’s character
among those who saw with their own eyes, and had no ob-
ject to serve by blackening the fair fame of the bravely
dying race.
It would be easy to fill a large volume with startling and
trustworthy testimony as to the goodness of the old Indian
of the best type; I shall give a few pages bearing on the
Indian life and especially relating to the various charac-
teristics for which the Redman has been attacked, selecting
the testimony preferably from the records of men who knew
the Indian before his withering contact with the white
race.
REVERENCE
' In 1832 George Catlin, the painter, went West and spent
eight years with the unchanged Indians of the Plains. He
lived with them and became conversant with their lives.
He has left one of the fullest and best records we have of the
The Spartans of the West 21
Redman. From his books I quote repeatedly. Con-
cerning the Indian’s religion, he says:
“The North American Indian is everywhere, in his native
state, a highly moral and religious being, endowed by his Maker
with an intuitive knowledge of some great Author of his being,
and the Universe, in dread of whose displeasure he con-
stantly lives, with the apprehension before him of a future
state, where he expects to be rewarded or punished according
to the merits he has gained or forfeited in this world.
* * * * * * o
“Morality and virtue I venture to say the civilized world
need not undertake to teach them.
* * * * * * *
““T never saw any other people of any color who spend so
much of their lives in humbling themselves before and worship-
ping the Great Spirit.” (Catlin’s ““N. A. Indian,” Vol. IT., p.
243.)
“We have been told of late years that there is no evidence
that any tribe of Indians ever believed in one overruling power;
yet, in the early part of the seventeenth century, Jesuits and
Puritans alike testified that tribes which they had met, believed
in a god, and it is certain that, at the present time, many tribes
worship a Supreme Being who is the Ruler of the Universe.”’
(Grinnell’s ‘‘Story of the Indian,” 1902, p. 214.)
“Love and adore the Good Spirit who made us all; who sup-
plies our hunting-grounds, and keeps us alive.” (Teachings
of Tshut-che-nau, Chief of the Kansas. J. D. Hunter’s “Cap-
tivity Among the American Indians,” 1798-1816, p. 21).
And, again, Hunter says (p. 216):
“A day seldom passes with an elderly Indian, or others who
are esteemed wise and good, in which a blessing is not asked, or
thanks returned to the Giver of Life, sometimes audibly, but
more generally in the devotional language of the heart.
22 The Book of Woodcraft
“Every Indian of standing has his sacred place, such as a
tree, rock, fountain, etc., to which he resorts for devotional ex-
ercise, whenever his feelings prompt to the measure; some-
times many resort to the same place.” (P. 221).
A typical prayer is recorded for us by Grinnell.
A Pawnee, in dire distress and despair, through a strong
enemy, decided to sacrifice his horse to the unseen powers,
that they might intercede for him with the Creator, and
thus prayed beforehand:
“My Father [who dwells] in all places, it is through you that
Iam living. Perhaps it was through you that this man put me
in this condition. You are the Ruler. Nothing is impossible
with you. If you see fit, take this [trouble] away from me.
Now you, all fish of the rivers, and you, all birds of the air, and
all animals that move upon the earth, and you, O Sun! I present
to you this animal. You, birds in the air, and you, animals
upon the earth, we are related; we are alike in this respect, that
one Ruler made us all. You see how unhappy Iam. If you
have any power, intercede for me.”’ (Grinnell’s “Story of the
Indian,” p. 213.)
Capt. W. P. Clark, one of our best authorities on the
Plains Indians, says: ‘‘There are no people who pray more
than Indians.’ (“Indian Sign Language,” 1885, p. 309.)
And, again, he says:
“Indians make vocal petitions to the God or Force which they
wish to assist them, and also make prayer by pointing the long
stem of the pipe. The Poncas call the sun God or Grandfather,
and the earth Grandmother, and pray to both when making
supplications. Running Antelope, a chief of the Uncapapa
Band of Sioux, said in regard to pointing the pipestem, that the
mere motion meant, ‘To the Great Spirit: give me plenty of
ponies; plenty of meat; let me live in peace and comfort with
my wife, and stay long with my children. To the Earth, my
The Spartans of the West 23
Grandmother: let me live long; hold me good and strong.
When I go to war, give me many ponies and let me count
many “coups.” In peace, let not anger enter my heart.’”
(P. 309.)
But the best account of the Indian’s belief and mode of
worship is given to us by Dr. Charles A. Eastman, himself
a Sioux Indian; he has written of the things that were his
daily life in youth. He says: .
“When food is taken, the woman murmurs a ‘grace’ as she
lowers the kettle, an act so softly and unobtrusively performed
that one who does not know the custom usually fails to catch
the whisper: ‘Spirit partake!’ As her husband receives the
bowl or plate, he likewise murmurs his invocation to the spirit.
When he becomes an old man, he loves to make a notable
effort to prove his gratitude. He cuts off the choicest
morsel of the meat and casts it into the fire — the purest and
most ethereal element.” (‘“‘Soul of the Indian,” 1o11,
p- 47-48.)
“The first hambeday, or religious retreat, marked an epoch in
the life of the youth, which may be compared to that of con-
firmation or conversion in Christian experience. Having first
prepared himself by means of the purifying vapor bath, and cast
off, as far as possible, all human or fleshly influences, the young
man sought out the noblest height, the most commanding sum-
mit in all the surrounding region. Knowing that God sets no
value upon material things, he took with him no offerings or
sacrifices, other than symbolic objects, such as paints and
tobacco. Wishing to appear before Him in all humility, he
wore no clothing save his moccasins and breech-clout. At the
solemn hour of sunrise or sunset, he took up his position, over-
looking the glories of earth, and facing the ‘Great Mystery,’
and there he remained, naked, erect, silent, and motionless,
exposed to the elements and forces of His arming, for a night
and a day to two days and nights, but rarely longer. Sometimes
he would chant a hymn without words, or offer the ceremonial
‘filled pipe.’ In this holy trance or ecstasy the Indian mystic
found his highest happiness, and the motive power of his exis-
tence.” (“Soul of the Indian,” Eastman, pp. 7-8.)
24 The Book of Woodcraft
“In the life of the Indian there was only one inevitable duty,
the duty of prayer — the daily recognition of the Unseen and
Eternal. His daily devotions were more necessary to him than
daily food. He wakes at daybreak, puts on his moccasins and
steps down to the water’s edge. Here he throws handfuls of
clear cold water into his face, or plunges in bodily. After the
bath, he stands erect before the advancing dawn, facing the sun
as it dances upon the horizon, and offers his unspoken orison.
His mate may precede or follow him in his devotions, but never
accompanies him. Each soul must meet the morning sun, the
new, sweet earth, and the Great Silence alone!
““Whenever, in the course of the daily hunt, the red hunter
comes upon a scene that is strikingly beautiful or sublime — a
black thunder-cloud, with the rainbow’s glowing arch above the
mountain; a white waterfall in the heart of a green gorge; a vast
prairie tinged with the blood-red of sunset — he pauses for an
instant in the attitude of worship. He sees no. need for setting
apart one day in seven as a holy day, since to him al! days are
God’s.”? (‘Soul of the Indian,” Eastman; pp. 45-6.)
In the light of all this evidence, is it to be wondered that
most of the early historians who lived with the primitive
Indians of the Plains, were led to believe, from their worship
of God, their strict moral code, their rigid laws as to foods
clean and unclean, and their elaborate system of bathings
and purifications, that in these red men of the New World,
they had indeed found the long-lost tribes of Israel?
CLEANLINESS
Nothing will convince some persons but that “‘ Yankees
have tails,’’ because, in their nursery days, these persons
always heard it was so. That is exactly the attitude of the
world on the subject of dirty Indians.
Alexander Henry II., a fur and whiskey trader, who did
his share in degrading the early Indians, and did not love
them, admits of the Mandans, in 1806:
The Spartans of the West 25
“Both men and women make it a rule to go down to the river
and wash every morning and evening.” (‘‘Journal,”’ Vol. 1.,
325.)
“These people, like their neighbors, have the custom of wash-
ing, morning and evening.”’ (“‘Journal,” Vol. 1., p. 348.)
Catlin, after eight years in their lodges (1832-40) says that
notwithstanding many exceptions, among the wild Indians the
“strictest regard to decency and cleanliness and elegance of
dress is observed, and there are few people, perhaps, who take
more pains to keep their persons neat and cleanly, than they
do.” (Vol. 1., p. 96.)
“Tn their bathing and ablutions at all seasons of the year, as a
part of their religious observances — having separate places for
men and women to perform these immersions — they resemble
again [the Jews].” (Vol. II., p. 233.)
J. W. Schultz, who spent his life among the Blackfeet,
comments on their wonderful hardiness. During the
intensest zero weather, he, himself, wore twice as much
clothing as they did, and yet was suffering severely, while
“They never froze, nor even shivered from the cold. They
attributed their indifference to exposure, to the beneficial
effect of their daily baths, which were always taken, even if
a hole had to be cut in the ice for the purpose. And they
forced their children to accompany them, little fellows from
three years of age up, dragging the unwilling ones from ther
beds, and carrying them under their arms to the icy plunge.”
(“My Life as an Indian,” pub. 1907; p. 63.)
This same experienced observer says:
“T have seen hundreds of white homes — there are numbers
of them in any city — so exceedingly dirty, their inmates so
slovenly, that one turns from them in absolute disgust, but I
have seen nothing like that among the Blackfeet.” (P. 413.)
Friendly enthusiasts like Catlin may sometimes get only
part of the facts, but the trained observers of the Smith-
26 The Book of Woodcraft
sonian Institution usually have absolute and complete
evidence to offer. Here is J. O. Dorsey’s paragraph on
Omaha cleanliness:
“The Omahas generally bathe (hica) every day in warm
weather, early in the morning and at night. Some who wish to
do so, bathe also at noon. Jackson, a member of the Elkgens,
bathes every day, even in winter. He breaks a hole in the ice
on the Missouri River, and bathes, or else he rubs snow over
his body. In winter the Omahas heat water in a kettle and wash
themselves (kigcija). . . . The Ponkas used to bathe in
the miei every day.” (Dorsey, 3th Ann. Dep. Eth.;
p. 269.
Every Indian village in the old days had a Turkish bath,
as we call it; a ““Sweat Lodge,” as they say, used as a
‘cure for inflammatory rheumatism, etc. Catlin de-
scribes this in great detail, and says:
“T allude to their vapor baths, or sudatories, of which
each village has several, and which seem to be a kind of
public property — accessible to all, and resorted to by all, male
and female, old and young, sick and well.” (Vol. I., p. 97.)
The “Sweat Lodge”’ is usually a low lodge covered with
blankets or skins. The patient goes in undressed and sits
by a bucket of water. Ina fire outside, a number of stones
are heated by the attendants. These are rolled in, one or
more at a time. ‘The patient pours water on them. This
raises a cloud of steam. The lodge becomes very hot.
The individual drinks copious draughts of water. After
a sufficient sweat, he raises the cover and rushes into the
water, beside which, the lodge is always built. After this,
he is rubbed down with buckskin, and wrapped in a robe
to cool off.
This was used as a bath, as well as a religious purification.
The Spartans of the West 27
I have seen scores of them. Clark says they were ‘‘common
to all tribes,” (p. 365). Every old-timer knows that they
were in daily use by the Indians and scoffed at by the white
settlers who, indeed, were little given to bathing of any kind.
CHASTITY
About one hundred years ago the notorious whiskey-
trader, Alexander Henry, already mentioned, went into
the Missouri region. He was a man of strange character,
of heroic frame and mind, but unscrupulous and sordid.
His only interest and business among the Indians was
beating them out of their furs with potations of cheap
alcohol. This fearless ruffian penetrated the far North-
west, was the first trader to meet certain Western tribes,
and strange to tell he wrote a full, straightforward and
shocking account of his.wanderings and methods among the
red folk he despised for not being white. In spite of arro-
gance and assumed superiority, his narrative contains
much like the following:
“The Flatheads on the Buffalo Plains, generally encounter the
Piegans and fight desperately when attacked. They never
attempt war themselves, and have the character of a brave and
virtuous people, not in the least addicted to those vices so
common among savages who have had long intercourse with
Europeans. Chastity is particularly esteemed, and no woman
will barter her favors, even with the whites, upon any mer-
cenary consideration. She may be easily prevailed upon
to reside with a white man as his wife, according to the custom
of the country, but prostitution is out of the question —she will
listen to no proposals of that nature. Their morals have not
yet been sufficiently debauched and corrupted by an intercourse
with people who call themselves Christians, but whose licentious
and lecherous manners are far worse than those of savages. A
striking example is to be seen throughout the N. W. country, of
the depravity and wretchedness of the natives; but as one
28 The Book of Woodcraft
advances into the interior parts, vice and debauchery become
less frequent. Happy those who have the least connection with
us, for most of the present depravity is easily traced to its origin
in their intercourse with the whites. That baneful source of
all evils, spirituous liquor, has not yet been introduced among
the natives of the Columbia. To the introduction of that
subtle poison among the savage tribes may be mainly attributed
their miserable and wretched condition.’”’ [So at once he set
about introducing it. E. T. S.] (A. Henry’s Journal, 1811; pp.
710-11.)
Jonathan Carver, who traveled among the Sioux from
1766-9, says:
“‘Adultery is esteemed by them a heinous crime, and pun-
ished with the greatest rigor.”’ (Travels, 1796; p. 245.)
George Catlin, after his eight years among the wild Man-
dans of the Missouri (1832), says of them:
“Their women are beautiful and modest — and amongst the
respectable families, virtue is as highly cherished and as inap-
proachable, as in any society whatever.” (Vol. I., p. 121.)
Colonel R. I. Dodge, an Indian fighter and hater, says:
“The Cheyenne women are retiring and modest, and for
chastity will compare favorably with women of any other nation
or people . . . almost models of purity and chastity.”
(‘‘Hunting-grounds of the Great West,” p. 302.)
I am well aware that the Crows, the Arapaho and some
West coast tribes were shockingly immoral in primitive
times, but these were the exceptions, and in consequence
they were despised by the dominant tribes of the Plains.
BRAVERY
Old-time travelers and modern Indian fighters agree
that there was no braver man on earth, alive or in history,
than the Redman. Courage was the virtue he chiefly
honored. His whole life and training were with the pur-
The Spartans of the West 29
pose of making him calm, fearless and efficient in every
possible stress or situation.
Father Lafitau said of the Eastern Indians, in 1724:
“They are high-minded and proud; possess a courage equal to
every trial; an intrepid valor; the most heroic constancy under
torments, and an equanimity which neither misfortune nor
reverses can shake.’’ (Moeurs des Sauv. Amer.)
‘An Indian meets death, when it approaches him in his hut,
with the same resolution he has often faced him in the field.
His indifference relative to this important article, which is the
source of so many apprehensions to almost every other nation,
is truly admirable. When his fate is pronounced by the phy-
sician, and it remains no longer uncertain, he harangues those
about him with the greatest composure.’”’? (Carver’s “Travels
Among the Sioux,” 1766-9; p. 261.)
“The greatest insult that can be offered to an Indian, is, to
doubt : courage.” (J. D. Hunter, ‘‘Captivity”; 1798-1816;
pi. -30n.
“These savages are possessed with many heroic qualities, and
bear every species of misfortune with a degree of fortitude which
has not been outdone by any of the ancient heroes either of
Greece or of Rome.”’ (Carver’s ‘“‘Travels Among the Sioux,”’
1766-9; pp. 221-2.)
None of us are likely to question the Redman’s prowess when
we remember for example that Black Hawk with 40 warriors
utterly routed 270 American riflemen in 1832, Chief Joseph in 1877
with inferior weapons beat the American soldiers over and over
again with half their number, and in 1878 Dull Knife with 69 war-
riors fought and defied 2000 American troops for over four months.
THRIFT AND PROVIDENCE
Every Indian village in the old days had its granaries of
corn, its stores of dried beans, berries, and pumpkin-strips,
as well as its dried buffalo tongues, pemmican and deer’s
meat. ‘To this day all the Fisher Indians of the north and
west dry great quantities of fish, as well as berries, for the
famine months that are surely coming.
Many of the modern Indians, armed with rifles, have
30 The Book of Woodcraft
learned to emulate the white man, and slaughter game for
the love of slaughter, without reference to the future. Such
waste was condemned by the old-time Indians, as an abuse
of the gifts of God, and which would surely bring its punish-
ment.
When, in 1684, De la Barre, Governor of Canada, com-
plained that the Iroquois were encroaching on the country
of those Indians who were allies of the French, he got a
stinging reply from Garangula, the Onondaga Chief, and a
general statement showing that the aborigines had game-
laws, not written, indeed, but well known, and enforced at
the spear-point, if need be: ‘‘We knock the Twightwies
[Miamis] and Chictaghicks [Illinois] on the head, because
they had cut down the trees of peace, which were the limits
of our country. They have hunted beaver on our lands.
They have acted contrary to the customs of all Indians, for
they left none of the beavers alive, they killed both male and
female.” (Sam G. Drake’s “Indian Biog.” 1832, p. 111.)
Hunter says of the Kansas Indians:
“T have never known a solitary instance of their wantonly
destroying any of those animals [buffalo, elk, and deer], except
on the hunting-grounds of their enemies, or encouraged to it by
the prospect of bartering their skins with the traders.”” (Hun-
ter’s “‘Captivity,”’ 1798-1816, p. 270.)
“After all, the Wild Indians could not be justly termed im-
provident, when the manner of life is taken into consideration.
They let nothing go to waste, and labored incessantly during
the summer and fall, to lay up provisions for the inclement
season. Berries of all kinds were industriously gathered and
dried in the sun. Even the wild cherries were pounded up,
stones and all, made into small cakes, and dried, for use in soups,
and for mixing with the pounded jerked meat and fat to form a
much-prized Indian delicacy.”’ (‘‘Indian Boyhood,” East-
man; pp. 237-8.)
The Spartans of the West 31
Their wise men were not blind to the dangers of greed, as
we know, from many sources, and, in particular, their
attitude toward money-getting is full of interest:
“The Indians, except those who live adjoining to the Euro-
pean colonies, can form to themselves no idea of the value of
money; they consider it, when they are made acquainted with
the uses to which it is applied by other nations, as the source of
innumerable evils. To it they attribute all the mischiefs that
are prevalent among Europeans, such as treachery, plundering,
devastations and murder.” (Carver’s ‘‘ Travels,” p. 158.)
Could we have a more exact paraphrase of ‘‘ The love of
money is the root of all evil?”
Beware of greed which grows into crime and makes men for-
get the poor. A man’s life should not be for himself, but for his
people. For them he must be ready to die.
This is the sum of Indian economic teaching. (Sce
Eastman ‘‘Soul of Indian,” pp. 94 and 99-103.)
CHEERFULNESS OR THE MERRY INDIAN
Nothing seems to anger the educated Indian, to-day,
_ more than the oft-repeated absurdity that his race was of a
gloomy, silent nature. Any one that has ever been in an
Indian village knows what a scene of joy and good cheer it
normally was. In every such gathering there was always
at least one recognized fun-maker, who led them all in joke
and hilarious jest. Their songs, their speeches, their fairy-
tales are full of fun and dry satire. The reports of the
Ethnological Bureau sufficiently set forth these facts.
Eastman, the Sioux, says on this subject:
“There is scarcely anything so exasperating to me as the idea
that the natives of this country have no sense of humor and no
32 The Book of Woodcraft
faculty for mirth. This phase of their character is well under-
stood by those whose fortune or misfortune it has been to live
among them, day in and day out, at their homes. I don’t
believe I ever heard a real hearty laugh away from the Indians’
fireside. I have often spent an entire evening in laughter with
them, until I could laugh no more. There are evenings when
the recognized wit or story-teller of the village gives a free
entertainment which keeps the rest of the community in a
convulsive state until he leaves them. However, Indian humor
consists as much in the gestures and inflections of the voice, as
in words, and is really untranslatable.” (“Indian Boyhood,” p,
267.)
And, again, Grinnell:
“The common belief that the Indian is stoical, stolid, and
sullen, is altogether erroneous. They are really a merry people,
good-natured and jocular, usually ready to laugh at an amusing
incident or a joke, with a simple mirth that reminds one of
children.” (‘‘ Ind. To-day,” p. 9.)
There is, however, an explanation of our widespread mis-
conception. Many a time in Indian camp or village, I have
approached some noisy group of children or hilarious ring of
those more grown. My purpose was wholly sympathetic, but
my presence acted as a wet-blanket. The children were hushed
or went away. I saw shy faces, furtive glances, or looks of dis-
trust. They hate us; they do not want us near. Our presence
is an evil influence in their joy. Can we wonder?
OBEDIENCE — REVERENCE FOR THEIR PARENTS AND FOR
THE AGED
We cannot, short of the Jews or the Chinese, perhaps, find
more complete respect for their parents than among the
Indians. Catlin says:
“To each other I have found these people kind and honorable,
and endowed with every feeling of parental, of filial, and con-
The Spartans of the West 33
jugal affection, that is met in more enlightened communities.
I have found them moral and religious; and I am bound to give
them credit for their zeal, which is often exhibited in their modes
of worship, however insufficient they may seem to us, or may be
in the estimation of the Great Spirit.” | (Vol. IL., p. 242.)
While Hunter, after living with the Kansas Indians for
nineteen years, says:
“They are very assiduous and attentive to the wants and
comforts, particularly, of the aged; and kind to all who require
their assistance. And an Indian who failed in these respects,
though he otherwise merited esteem, would be neglected and
despised. To the credit of their morals, few such are to
be found, except where debauched by the vices of the white
people.” (Hunter’s “Captivity,” 1798-1816; p. 251.)
Among the maxims laid down by the venerable Chief of
the Kansas, was:
“Obey and venerate the old people, particularly your par-
ents.” (‘‘ Teachings of Tshut-che-nau, Chief of the Kansas;’’
Hunter; p. 21.)
Father J. F. Lafitau, the Jesuit missionary, was far from
being predisposed in favor of savage ways or views, yet
says of the Eastern Indians:
“Toward each other, they behave with a natural politeness
and attention, entertaining a high respect for the aged.”
(Moeurs des Sauv. Am., 1724.)
“The Indians always took care of their aged and helpless.
It was a rare exception when they did not.” (Francis La
Flesche, Conversation, April 27, 1912.)
There have been cases of Indians abandoning their very
aged to die, but it was always done by request of the vic-
34 The Book of Woodcraft
tims, under dire stress of hunger or travel, and was dis-
approved and denounced by all their great teachers.
During my Northern journey in 1907 I selected for one
of my guides a fine young Indian named Freesay. At the
end of our first journey I said to him: “‘Would you like to
go with me still farther, to the Far North country, and see
the things your people have not yet seen? I will give you
good wages and a big present.”
He replied: ‘‘ Yes; I would like to go very much, but my
uncle [his adoptive father] told me not to go beyond Pike’s
Lobstick, and soI cannot go.” And he did not, though his
uncle was 350 miles away. This was one case out of
several noted, and many heard of. The Fifth Command-
ment is a very big, strong law in the wigwam.
KINDNESS
At every first meeting of red men and whites, the whites
were inferior in numbers, and yet were received with the
utmost kindness, until they treacherously betrayed the men
who had helped and harbored them. Even Christopher
Columbus, blind and burnt up with avarice as he was,
and soul-poisoned with superstition, and contempt for an
alien race, yet had the fairness to write home to his royal
accomplices in crime, the King and Queen of Spain:
“‘T swear to your Majesties that there is not a better people
in the world than these; more affectionate, affable or mild.
They love their neighbors as themselves, and they always speak
smilingly. (Catlin, “N. A. Indian,” II., p. 246.)
Jonathan Carver, who lived among the Sioux from
1766-9, after speaking of their severity in dealing with
enemies, says:
The Spartans of the West 35
“But if they are thus barbarous to those with whom they are
at war, they are friendly, hospitable, and humane in peace. It
may with truth be said of them, that they are the worst enemies
and the best friends of any people in the whole world.” (‘‘ Trav-
els,” p. 157.)
“We shall likewise see them sociable and humane to those
whom they consider as their friends, and even to their adopted
enemies: and ready to partake with them of the last morsel, or
to risk their lives in their defence.”’ (P. 269.)
And, again:
“No people are more hospitable, kind and free than the
Indians.” (P. 171.)
“Nothing can exceed the tenderness shown by them to their
offspring.” (P. 247.)
Catlin, writing of the Plain Indians generally, says:
“To their friends, there are no people on earth that are more
kind; and cruelties and punishments (except for capital offences)
are, amongst themselves, entirely dispensed with.” (Vol. II.,
Pp. 241.)
Schultz evidently went among the Blackfeet with the
usual wrong ideas about the Indians, but he soon wrote:
“T have read, or heard, that an Indian’s loss of to-day is for-
gotten on the morrow. ‘That is certainly not true of the Black-
feet, nor the Mandans. Often and often I have heard many of
the Blackfeet mourn for one dead long years since.” (‘‘My
Life as an Indian,” p. 154.)
And again:
“T have often heard the Blackfeet speak of various white men
as utterly heartless, because they had left their parents and their
youthful home to wander and seek adventure in a strange land.
They could not comprehend how one with right feeling might
36 The Book of Woodcraft
absent himself from father and mother, as we do, for months and
years. ‘Hard hearts,’ ‘stone hearts,’ they call us, and with |
some reason.” (Schultz, p. 155.)
“There are few people so generous as the Indians.
* * * * * * *
In their religious and war ceremonies, at their feasts, festivals,
and funerals, the widows and orphans, the poor and needy are
always thought of; not only thought of, . . . but their pov-
erty and necessity are relieved. :
* * * * * * *
“‘T have seen white men reduced to the last ‘hard tack,’ with
only tobacco enough for two smokes, and with no immediate
prospect of anything better than horse-meat ‘straight.’ A
portion of the hard bread was hidden away, and the smokes
were taken in secret. An Indian, undemoralized by contact
with the whites, under similar circumstances, would divide
down to the last morsel.”’ (Clark’s “Sign Language,” p. 185
and 186.)
HOSPITALITY
This is a point that needs little discussing, even the
sworn enemy was safe, once he was admitted to an Indian
lodge ‘‘as a guest.”
Carver says of the Sioux, in 1766 (“‘Travels,” p. 172):
‘No people are more hospitable . . . and free than the
Indians.”
And, again, I found them ready to share with their friends
the last morsel of food they possessed. (P. 269.)
The Jesuits testify of the Iroquois, 1656:
“Hospitals for the poor would be useless among them, because
there are no beggars; those who have are so liberal to those who
are in want, that everything is enjoyed incommon. The whole
village must be in distress before any individual is left in
necessity.”’ (“Century of Dishonor,” p. 379.)
The Spartans of the West 37
Catlin, in 1832-40, enthusiastically writes of the Plains
Indians and their hospitality:
.“T have been welcomed generally in their country, and treated
to the best that they could give me [for eight years], without
any charges made for my board.” (Vol. L., p. 9.)
“No matter how great the scarcity of food might be, so long
as there was any remaining in the lodge, the visitor received his
share without grudging.”” (Grinnell, ‘Ind. of To-day,” p. 9.)
The same authority writes me:
“When Lone Chief had gone into the Lodge of the Chief of
the enemy, and food and water had been given to him, the Chief
’ stood up and spoke to his tribespeople saying, ‘What can I do?
They have eaten of my food, I cannot make war on people who
have been eating with me and have also drunk of my water.’”
(“Pawnee Hero Stories,”’ pp. 59-60.)
TREATMENT OF THEIR WOMEN
“The social condition of the North Americans has been
greatly misunderstood. The place of woman in the tribe was
not that of a slave or of a beast of burden. The existence of
the gentile organization, in most tribes, with descent in the fe-
male line, forbade any such subjugation of woman. In many
tribes, women took part in the councils of the chiefs; in some,
women were even the tribal rulers; while in all, they received a
fair measure of respect and affection from those related to
them.” (Grinnell’s “Story of the Indian,” p. 244.)
This is Grinnell’s summing up of what every student of
Indians has known for long. Here in addition are the
statements of other good authorities:
“T have often heard and read that Indian women received no
consideration from their husbands, and led a life of exceedingly
hard and thankless work. That is very wide of the truth, so
38 The Book of Woodcraft
far as the natives of the northern plains were concerned. It is
true, that the women gathered fuel for the lodge — bundles of
dry willows, or limbs from a fallen cottonwood. They also did
the cooking, and, besides tanning robes, converted the skins of
deer, elk, antelope, and mountain sheep, into soft buckskin for
family use. But never a one of them suffered from overwork;
when they felt like it, they rested; they realized that there were
other days coming, and they took their time about anything
they had to do. Their husbands, never interfered with them,
any more than they did with him in his task of providing the
hides and skins and meat, the staff of life. The majority —
nearly all of them — were naturally industrious, and took pride
in their work; they joyed in putting away parfleche after par-
fleche of choice dried meats and pemmican; in tanning soft robes
and buckskins for home use or sale, in embroidering wonderful
patterns of beads or colored porcupine quills upon moccasin
tops, dresses, leggings and saddle trappings. When robes were
to be traded, they got their share of the proceeds.” (Schultz,
p. 64.)
“Tt has often been asserted that the ‘Indian’ did no work,
even leaving the cultivation of the corn and squashes to the
women. That the women in some of the tribes tended the crops,
is true, but in others, like the Pueblos, they seldom or never
touched hoe or spade. The Eastern men were hunting or build-
ing boats, or were on the war-path, hence it was necessary for the
women to look after the fields.” (‘“The N. A. of Yesterday,”
by F. S. Dellenbaugh, p. 333.)
Schultz tells us that the men had to make their own
clothing. (‘‘My Life as an Indian,” p. 180.)
Prof. J. O. Dorsey writes of Omaha manners:
“Politeness is shown by men to women. Men used to help
women and children to alight from horses. When they had to
ford streams, the men used to assist them, and sometimes they
carried them across on their backs.” (Dorsey, 270-1; 3rd Ann.
Rep. Ethn.)
“One of the most erroneous beliefs relating to the status and
condition of the American Indian woman is, that she was, both
before and after marriage, the abject slave and drudge of the
The Spartans of the West 39
men of her tribe, in general. This view, due largely to inac-
curate observation and misconception, was correct, perhaps,
at times, as to a small percentage of the tribes and peoples whose
social organization was of the most elementary kind politically
and ceremonially, and especially of such tribes as were non-
agricultural.” (‘‘Handbook of American Indians,” Bur. Am.
Ethn., p. 968.)
“Among the Iroquoian tribes—the Susquehanna, the Hurons,
and the Iroquois — the penalties for killing a woman of the tribe
were double those exacted for the killing of a man, because
in the death of a woman, the Iroquoian lawgivers recognized
the probable loss of a long line of prospective offspring.”
(“Handbook American Indian,” p. 971.)
“Tn most, if not in all, the highly organized tribes, the woman
was the sole master of her own body.” (‘‘Handbook North
American Indian,” p. 972.)
“The men are the warriors and hunters, though an old woman
of rank usually steers the war-canoe.” (‘‘Coast Indian’;
Niblack; 1889; p. 253.)
“A mother possessed the important authority to forbid her
sons going on the war-path, and frequently the chiefs took
advantage of this power of the woman, to avoid a rupture
with another tribe.” (‘‘Handbook North American Indian,”
. O71.
“Roger Williams, with reference to another subject, brings
this same respect for woman to view; he wrote: ‘So did
never the Lord Jesus bring any unto his most pure worship, for
he abhors, as all men, yea, the very Indians, an unwilling spouse
to enter into forced relations.”” (‘‘Handbook North America,”
- 972.)
“Ata later day, and in the face of circumstances adverse to
the Indians, Gen. James Clinton, who commanded the New
York Division in the Sullivan expedition in 1779, against the
hostile Iroquois, paid his enemies the tribute of a soldier, by
writing in April, 1779, to Colonel Van Schaick, then leading the
troops against the Onondaga, the following terse compliment:
“Bad as the savages are, they never violate the chastity of any
woman, their prisoners.’”’
“Among the Sioux and the Yuchi, men who made a practice
of seduction were in grave bodily danger, from the aggrieved
women and girls, and the resort by the latter to extreme meas-
40 _ The Book of Woodcraft
ures was sanctioned by public opinion, as properly avenging a
gross violation of woman’s inalienable right — the control of -
her own body. The dower or bride-price, when such was given,
did not confer it, it seems, on the husband, absolute right over
the life and liberty of the wife: it was rather compensation to
her kindred and household for the loss of her services.”
(“Handbook American Indian,” pp. 972,3.)
“Tt is the universal testimony, as voiced by Portlock (1787),
that they [the Coast Indians] treat their wives and children with
much affection and tenderness.” (““Voyages,” p. 290.) ‘“‘In the
approach to political and industrial equality of the sexes, and in
the respect shown for the opinions of their females, these
Indians furnish another refutation of the old misconception
concerning the systematic mal-treatment of the women by
savages. Such a thing is incompatible with the laws of nature.
Good treatment of the female is essential to the presery-
ation of the species, and it will be found that this ill-treatment
is more apparent than real.” (Niblack, ‘Coast Indian,” 1880,
Pp. 238-9.)
That is, the sum of evidence, according to all reliable
authority, plainly shows that the condition of the women
among the primitive Indians was much as with white folks.
They had the steady, dreary work of the household, while
the men did the intermittent, yet much harder work of por-
taging, hunting and fighting. But the Indian woman had
several advantages over her white sister. She owned the
house and the children. She had absolute control of her
body. There could be no war without her consent; she
could and often did become the Head Chief of the Nation.
Awashonks, the Woman Chief of Seconset, R. I. (1671),
and Wetamoo, the beautiful woman Sachem of the Massa-
chusetts Wampanoags (1662) were among the many
famous women whose lives and positions give the lie to the
tiresome calumny that the “Indian women were mere
beasts of burden; they had no rights, nor any voice in their
public affairs.”
The Spartans of the West 41
COURTESY AND POLITE BEHAVIOR
There has never been any question of the Redman’s
politeness. Every observer remarks it. I have seen
countless cases of it, myself. The white who usurped his
domain are immeasurably his inferiors in such matters.
For fuller testimony, let us note these records by early
travelers:
“Toward each other, they behave with natural politeness and
attention.” (Pere Lafitau, 1724.)
Catlin says of the Mandans:
“They are handsome, straight, and elegant in their forms —
not tall, but quick and graceful; easy and polite in their manners,
neat in their persons, and beautifully clad.” (Catlin; Vol. L.,
790.
j ep te next and second Chief of the [Mandan] tribe is Ma-to-
to-pa (The Four Bears). This extraordinary man, though sec-
ond in office, is undoubtedly the first and most popular man in
the nation. Free, generous, elegant and gentlemanly in his
deportment — handsome, brave and valiant; wearing a robe on
his back with the history of his battles emblazoned on it, which
would fill a book of themselves, if properly translated. This,
readers, is the most extraordinary man, perhaps, who lives at
this day, in the atmosphere of Nature’s nobleman.” (Catlin;
Vol. I., p. 92.)
Omaha politeness: “When persons attend feasts, they extend
their hand and return thanks to the giver. So, also, when they
receive presents.
* * * * * * *
“Tf a man receives a favor and does not manifest his gratitude,
they exclaim, ‘He does not appreciate the gift; he has no man-
ners!’
* * * * * *
“Mothers teach their children not to pass in front of people,
if they can avoid it.” (Dorsey, 3d Ann. Rep. Bur. Eth.,
1881-2, p. 270.)
42 The Book of Woodcraft
TEEPEE ETIQUETTE —— THE UNWRITTEN LAW OF THE LODGE
(Gathered chiefly from observations of actual practice, but
im many cases from formal precept.)
Be hospitable.
Always assume that your guest is tired, cold, and hungry.
Always give your guest the place of honor in the lodge,
and at the feast, and serve him in reasonable ways.
Never sit while your guest stands.
Go hungry rather than stint your guest.
If your guest refuses certain food, say nothing; he may be
under vow.
Protect your guest as one of the family; feed his horse,
and beat your dogs if they harm his dog.
Do not trouble your guest with many questions about
himself; he will tell you what he wishes you to know.
In another man’s lodge follow his customs, not your own.
Never worry your host with your troubles.
Always repay calls of courtesy; do not delay.
Give your host a little present on leaving; little presents
are little courtesies and never give offence.
Say ‘‘Thank you” for every gift, however small.
Compliment your host, even if you strain the facts to do
so.
Never walk between persons talking.
Never interrupt persons talking.
Let not the young speak among those much older, unless
asked.
Always give place to your seniors in entering or leaving
the lodge; or anywhere.
Never sit while your seniors stand.
Never force your conversation on any one.
Speak softly, especially before your elders, or in presence
of strangers.
The Spartans of the West 43
Never come between any one and the fire.
Do not touch live coals with a steel knife or any sharp
steel.
Do not stare at strangers; drop your eyes if they stare
hard at you; and this, above all, for women.
The women of the lodge are the keepers of the fire, but the
men should help with the heavier sticks.
Always give a word or sign of salute when meeting or
passing a friend, or even a stranger, if in a lonely place.
Do not talk to your mother-in-law at any time, or let her
talk to you.
Be kind.
Show respect to all men, but grovel to none.
Let silence be your motto till duty bids you speak.
Thank the Great Spirit for each meal.
HONESTY
Catlin says:
“As evidence of . . . their honesty and honor, there
will be found recorded many striking instances in the following
pages.
* * * * * * *
“T have roamed about, from time to time, during seven or
eight years, visiting and associating with some three or four
hundred thousands of these people, under an almost infinite
variety of circumstances;
* * * * * * *
and under all these circumstances of exposure, no Indian ever
betrayed me, struck me a blow, or stole from me a shilling’s
worth of my property, that I am aware of.” (Vol. I., p. 9-10.)
“Never steal, except it be from an enemy, whom it is just
that we should injure in every possible way.” (‘‘Teachings
of Tshut-che-nau, Chief of Kansas,’’ Hunter; p. 21.)
“Among [between] the individuals of some tribes or nations,
44 The Book of Woodcraft
theft is a crime scarcely known.” (Hunter’s “Captivity ©
Among American Indians,” 1798-1816; p. 300.) :
“Theft was unknown in an Indian camp.” (G. B.
Grinnell; ‘Indians of To-day,”’ p. 8.)
Every traveler among the highly developed tribes of the
Plains Indians tells a similar story, though, of course, when
at war, it was another matter.
Even that rollicking old cut-throat, Alexander Henry II,
says after fifteen years among the Wild Indians: “I have
been frequently fired at by them and have had several nar-
row escapes for my life. But Iam happy to say they never
pillaged me to the value of a needle.” (“Journal” 1799-
1814, Pp. 452.)
In my own travels in the Far North, 1907, I found the
Indians tainted with many white vices, and in many re-
spects degenerated, but I also found them absolutely
honest, and I left valuable property hung in trees for
months, without fear, knowing that no wild Indian would
touch it.
There is a story told of Bishop Whipple:
He was leaving his cabin, with its valuable contents, to be
gone some months, and sought some way of rendering all
robber-proof. His Indian guide then said: ‘Why, Brother,
leave it open. Have no fear. There is not a white man
within a hundred miles!”
On the road to a certain large Indian Ojibway village in
1904 I lost a considerable roll of bills. My friend, the white
man in charge, said: ‘‘If an Indian finds it, you will have it
again within an hour; if a white man finds it, you will never
see it again, for our people are very weak, when it comes to
- property matters.”
Finally, to cover the far Southwest, I found that the
experience of most travelers agrees with the following:
—————
The Spartans of the West 45
“T lived among the Wild Indians for eight years (1872-1880) ;
_ I know the Apaches, the Navajos, the Utes, and the Pueblos, and
I never knew a dishonest Indian.” (Robert A. Widenmann,
West Haverstraw, N. Y.)
\
TRUTHFULNESS AND HONOR
“Falsehood they esteem much more mean and contemptible
than stealing. The greatest insult that can be offered to an
Indian, is, to doubt his courage: the next is to doubt his honor
or truth!
* * * * * * *
“Lying, as well as stealing, entails loss of character on habitual
offenders; and, indeed, an Indian of independent feelings and ele-
vated character will hold no kind of intercourse with any one
who has been once clearly convicted.” (Hunter’s “Captivity
Among Indians,” 1797-1816, p. 301.)
“This venerable, worn-out warrior [the Kansas Chief,
Tshut-che-nau, Defender of the People], would often admonish
us for our faults and exhort us never to tell a lie.”” (Hunter, p.
21.)
“On all occasions, and at whatever price, the Iroquois spoke
the truth, without fear and without hesitation.”” (Morgan’s
“League of the Iroquois,”’ p. 330.)
“The honor of their tribe, and the welfare of their nation is the
first and most predominant emotion of their hearts; and from
hence proceed in a great measure all their virtues and their
vices. Actuated by this, they brave every danger, endure the
most exquisite torments, and expire triumphing in their forti-
tude, not as a personal qualification, but as a national charac-
teristic.’”’ (Carver’s ‘‘Travels,” p. 271.)
The Indian’s assent to a treaty was always binding. I
cannot discover a case of breach, excepting when the whites
first broke it; and this does not mean the irresponsible
whites, but the American Government. The authorities
at Washington never hesitated to break each and every
46 The Book of Woodcraft
treaty apparently, as soon as some material benefit seemed
likely to accrue.
Col. R. I. Dodge says:
“The three principal causes of wars with the Indians are:
“First, Non-fulfilment of treaties by the United States
Government.
“Second, Frauds by the Indian agents.
“Third, Encroachments by the whites.” (‘‘ Hunting-grounds
of the Great West,” 1878, pp. XLIII-XLIV.)
Captain John G. Bourke, who served under General
Crook in 1872, when the Apaches were crushed by over-
whelming numbers and robbed of their unquestioned heri-
tage, says:
“Tt was an outrageous proceeding, one for which I should
still blush, had I not long since gotten over blushing for any-
thing that the United States Government did in Indian mat-
ters.”” (“On the Border with Crook,” p. 217.)
“The most shameful chapter of American history is that in
which is recorded the account of our dealings with the Indians.
The story of our Government’s intercourse with this race is an
unbroken narrative of injustice, fraud and robbery.” (Grin-
nell’s ‘‘ Blackfoot Lodge Tales,” 1892, p. IX.)
In brief, during our chief dealings with the Redman, our
manners were represented by the border outlaws, the vilest
criminals the world has known, absolute fiends; and our
Government by educated scoundrels of shameless, heartless,
continual greed and treachery.
The great exception on American soil was that of
William Penn. He kept his word. He treated the Indians
fairly; they never wronged him to the extent of a penny, or
harmed him or his, or caused a day’s anxiety; but con-
tinued his loyal and trusty defenders.”’ (See Jackson’s
‘“*Century of Dishonor.”’)
The Spartans of the West 47
How is it that Canada has never had an Indian war or an
Indian massacre? Because the Government honorably
kept all its treaties, and the Indians themselves were
honorable, by tradition; they never yet broke a treaty. In
northwestern Canada, there were two slight outbreaks of
half-breeds (1871 and 1885), but these were misunder-
standings, easily settled. There was little fighting, no
massacres, and no heritage of hate in their track.
What wonder that all who could, among the Indian tribes,
moved over the “Medicine Line,” and dwell in Canada
to-day!
TEMPERANCE AND SOBRIETY
When the white traders struck into the West with their
shameful cargoes of alcohol to tempt the simple savages, it
was the beginning of the Great Degradation for which we
must answer.
The leading Indians soon saw what the drink habit
meant, and strove in vain to stem the rising current of
madness that surely would sweep them to ruin.
About 1795, Tshut-che-nau, chief of the Kansas, did his
best to save the youth of his people from the growing vice
of the day.
““Drink not the poisonous strong-water of the white
people;’ he said, ‘it is sent by the Bad Spirit to destroy the
Indians.’ He preached, but preached in vain.” (J. D.
Hunter, p. 21.)
Pere Lafitau says, in 1724:
“They never permit themselves to indulge in passion,
but always, from a sense of honor and greatness of soul,
appear masters of themselves.” (P. 378, “Century of Dis-
honor.’’)
48 The Book of Woodcraft
In 1766, living among the Sioux, Carver writes:
“We shall find them temperate, both in their diet and pota-
tions (it must be remembered that I speak of those tribes who
have little communication with Europeans) that they withstand
with unexampled patience, the attacks of hunger, or the incle-
mency of the seasons, and esteem the gratification of their
appetites but as a secondary consideration.’ (‘‘ Travels,” p. 269.)
Concerning the temperance of the Wild Indian, Catlin
writes, in 1832:
“Every kind of excess is studiously avoided.
* * * * * * *
“Amongst the wild Indians in this country, there are no beg-
gars—no drunkards—and every man, from a beautiful
natural precept, studies to keep his body and mind in such a
healthy shape and condition as will, at all times, enable him to
use his weapons in self-defense, or struggle for the prize in their
manly games.” (Catlin, Vol. L., p. 123.)
And, how was it he fell from these high ideals? Alas!
we know too well. G. B. Grinnell has sent me a record
which, in one form or another, might have been made about
every western tribe:
“The Reverend Moses Merrill, a missionary among the Oto
Indians from 1832 to the beginning of 1840, kept a diary from
which the following account is taken:
“April 14, 1837. Two men from a trading expedition in the
Indian country called on me to-day. They state that one half
of the furs purchased in the Indian country are obtained in
exchange for whiskey. They also stated that the Shiennes, a
tribe of Indians on the Platte River, were wholly averse to drink-
ing whiskey, but, five years ago — now (through the influence
of a trader, Captain Gant, who, by sweetening the whiskey,
induced them to drink the intoxicating draught), they are a
tribe of drunkards.’” (Trans. and Repts. Nebraska State
Historical Society, IV.,” p. 181.)
The Spartans of the West 49
After describing the rigid dieting that formed part of the
Indian’s training, Eastman adds:
“Tn the old days, no young man was allowed to use tobacco
in any form until he had become an acknowledged warrior and
had achieved a record.” (“Ind. Boy.,” p. 50.)
PHYSIQUE
We need but little evidence on this head. All historians,
hostile or friendly, admit the Indian to have been the finest
type of physical manhood the world has ever known.
None but the best, the picked, chosen and trained of the
whites, had any chance with them. Had they not been
crushed by overwhelming numbers, the Indians would
own the continent to-day.
Grinnell says (‘‘Indians of To-day,” p. 7.):
“The struggle for existence weeded out the weak and the
sickly, the slow and the stupid, and created a race physically
perfect, and mentally fitted to cope with the conditions which
they were forced to meet, so long as they were left to them-
selves. ”’
Speaking of the Iroquois in primitive condition, Brinton
says that physically ‘‘they were unsurpassed by any other
on the continent, and I may even say by any other people
in the world.”” (‘The American Race,” p. 82.)
The most famous runner of ancient Greeee was Phi-
dippides, whose record run was 152 miles in 2 days.
Among our Indians such a feat would have been consid-
ered very second rate. In 1882, at Fort Ellice, I saw a
young Cree who, on foot, had just brought in despatches
from Fort Qu’ Appelle (125 miles away) in twenty-five hours.
It created almost no comment. I heard little from the trad-
ers but cool remarks like, “‘A good boy’’; ‘pretty good run.”
It was obviously a very usual exploit, among Indians.
50 The Book of Woodcraft
“The Tarahumare mail carrier from Chihuahua to Batopilas, —
Mexico, runs regularly more than 500 miles a week; a Hopi
messenger has been known to run 120 miles in 15 hours.”’
(‘Handbook American Indians,” Part II., p. 802.)
The Arizona Indians are known to run down deer by
sheer endurance, and every student of southwestern his-
tory will remember that Coronado’s mounted men were
unable to overtake the natives, when in the hill country,
such was their speed and activity on foot.
We know that white men’s ways, vices, and diseases have
robbed them of much of their former physique, and yet, accord-
ing to Dr. Daniel G. Brinton (“The American Race,”’ 1891.)
“The five Companies (500 men) recruited from the Iroquois of
New York and Canada, during the Civil War, stood first on the
list among all the recruits of our army, for height, vigor, and
corporeal symmetry.’’ (Grinnell’s “Indian of To-day,” p. 56.)
The wonderful work of the Carlisle Indian School foot-
ball team is a familiar example of what is meant by Indian
physique, even at this late date, when the different life has
done so much to bring them low.
(While this was in press the all round athletic champion-
ship of the world was won at the Olympic games (1912)
by James Thorpe, a Carlisle Indian. He was at best the
pick of 300,000, while against him were white men, the
pick of 300,000,000.)
The whole case, with its spiritual motive, is thus summed
up by Eastman in his inspiring account of the religion of his
people, the Dakotas:
“The moment that man conceived of a perfect body, supple,
symmetrical, graceful, and enduring —in that moment he had
laid the foundation of a moral life. No man can hope to main-
tain such a temple of the spirit beyond the period of adolescence,
The Spartans of the West 51
unless he is able to curb his indulgence in the pleasures of the
senses. Upon this truth the Indian built a rigid system of
physical training, a social and moral code that was the law of his
life.
“There was aroused in him as a child a high ideal of manly
strength and beauty, the attainment of which must depend upon
strict temperance in eating and in the sexual relation, together
with severe and persistent exercise. He desired to be a worthy
link in the generations, and that he might not destroy by his
weakness that vigor and purity of blood which had been achieved
at the cost of so much self-denial by a long line of ancestors.
“He was required to fast from time to time for short periods
and to work off his superfluous energy by means of hard running,
swimming and the vapor bath. The bodily fatigue thus induced,
especially when coupled with a reduced diet, is a reliable cure
for undue sexual desires.”? (Eastman’s “‘Soul of the Indian,”
Pp. 90-92.)
In their wonderful physique, the result of their life-long,
age-long training, in their courage, their fortitude, their
skill with weapons, their devoted patriotism, they realize
more than any other modern race has done the ideal of
the Spartan Greek, with this advantage; that, in his moral
code, the Indian was far superior.
IN GENERAL
“T admit,’ says Father Lallemant, of the Hurons, “that their
habits and customs are barbarous in a thousand ways, but, after
all, in matters which they consider as wrong, and which their
‘ public condemns, we observe among them less criminality than
in France, although here the only punishment of a crime is the
ee of having committed it.” (‘Century of Dishonor,” p.
378.
Even stronger is the summary of the Jesuit Father,
J. F. Lafitau:
“They are high-minded and proud; possess a courage equal to
every trial, an intrepid valor, the most heroic constancy under
52 The Book of Woodcraft
torments, and an equanimity which neither misfortunes nor
reverses can shake. Toward each other they behave with a
natural politeness and attention, entertaining a high respect
for the aged, and a consideration for their equals which appears
scarcely reconciliable with that freedom and independence of
which they are so jealous.”” (Moeurs des Sauv. Amer., 1724,
quoted in ‘“‘Century of Dishonor” p. 378.)
Long afterward the judicial Morgan in his League of the
Iroquois, says, (p. 55):
“In legislation, in eloquence, in fortitude, and in military
sagacity, they had no equals.
“Crimes and offences were so infrequent, under their social
system, that the Iroquois can scarcely be said to have had a
criminal code.”
Captain John H. Bourke, who spent most of his active
life as an Indian fighter, and who, by training, was an
Indian hater, was at last, even in the horror of an Indian-
crushing campaign, compelled to admit:
“The American Indian, born free as the eagle, would not
tolerate restraint, would not brook injustice; therefore, the
restraint imposed must be manifestly for his benefit, and the
government to which he was subjected must be eminently one
of kindness, mercy and absolute justice, without necessarily
degenerating into weakness. The American Indian despises a
liar. The American Indian is the most generous of mortals; at
all his dances and feasts, the widow and the orphan are the first
to be remembered.”’ (Bourke’s “On the Border with Crook,”
p. 226.)
“‘Badasthe Indians often are, ”’ says this same frontier veteran,
“‘T have never yet seen one so demoralized that he was not an
example in honor and nobility to the wretches who enrich them-
selves by plundering him of the little our Government appor-
tions for him.’’? (Bourke’s ‘‘On the Border with Crook,” p.
445.)
The Spartans of the West 53
Catlin’s summary of the race is thus:
“The North American Indian, in his native state, is an honest,
hospitable, faithful, brave; warlike, cruel, revengeful, relent-
less — yet honorable— contemplative and religious being.’
(Vol. I., p. 8.)
Omitting here what he gives elsewhere, that the Redman
is clean, virtuous, of splendid physique, a master of wood-
craft, and that to many of his best representatives, the
above evil adjectives do not apply.
Bishop Whipple thus sums up the wild Indian, after
intimate knowledge, during a lifetime of associations,
(“Century of Dishonor,” Jackson; p. VII.):
“The North American Indian is the noblest type of a heathen
man on the earth. He recognizes a Great Spirit; he believes in
immortality; he has a quick intellect; he is a clear thinker; he is
brave and fearless, and, until betrayed, he is true to his plighted
faith; he has a passionate love for his children, and counts it a
joy to die for his people. Our most terrible wars have been with
the noblest types of the Indians and with men who had been the
white man’s friends. Nicolet said the Sioux were the finest type
of wild men he had ever seen.”
Why, then, has he so long been caluminated? ‘Be-
cause,” explains the Bishop, ‘‘ Ahab never speaks kindly of
Naboth whom he has robbed of his vineyard. It soothes
conscience to cast mud on the character of the one whom
we have wronged.”
When General Crook, after he had crushed, and enabled
the nation to plunder the Apaches, was ordered to the
northward on a similar expedition against the Sioux, a
friend said to him, “‘It is hard to go on such a campaign,”’
the General replied, ‘‘ Yes, it is hard; but, sir, the hardest
thing is to go and fight those whom you know are in the
right.” (‘‘Century of Dishonor,’ p. VI.)
54 The Book of Woodcraft
Finally, let me reproduce in full the account by Bonne-
ville, from which I have already selected portions:
In 1834, he visited the Nez Perces and Flatheads, and
thus sums up these wholly primitive Indians, for they were -
as yet uncorrupted by the whiskey-trader or those who
preached the love of money.
“They were friendly in their dispositions, honest to the most
scrupulous degreein their intercourse with the white man.”
(P. 200.) “Simply to call these people religious would convey but
a faint idea of the deep hue of piety and devotion which pervades
their whole conduct. Their honesty is immaculate, and their
purity of purpose and their observance of the rites of their
religion are most uniform and remarkable. They are certainly
more like a nation of saints than a horde of savages.” (‘‘ Cap-
tain a aa Narrative; by Washington Irving, p. 171,
1837.
It would, I know, be quite easy to collect incidents —
true ones — that would seem to contradict each of these
claims for the Redman, especially if we look among the
degraded Indians of the Reservations. But I do not con-
sider them disproofs any more than I consider our religion
disproved by the countless horrors and wickedness recorded
every day as our daily history, in every newspaper in every
corner of the land. The fact remains that this was the ideal
of the Indian, and many times that ideal was exemplified
in their great men, and at all times the influence of their
laws was strong.
One might select a hundred of these great Indians who
led their people, as Plato led the Greeks or as Tolstoi led the
Russians, and learn from each and all that dignity, strength,
courtesy, courage, kindness, and reverence were indeed the
ideals of the teepee folk, and that their ideal was realized
more or less in all their history — that the noble Redman
did indeed exist.
The Spartans of the West 55
- The earliest of the northern Indians to win immortal
fame was the great Mohawk, Hiawatha. Although the
Longfellow version of his life is not sound as history, we
know that there was such a man; he was a great hero; he
stood for peace, brotherhood, and agriculture; and not only
united the Five Nations in a Peace League, but made
provision for the complete extension of that League to the
whole of America.
Pontiac, the Napoleon of his people; Tecumseh, the
chevalier Bayard, who was great as warrior and statesman,
as well as when he proclaimed the broad truths of humanity;
Dull Knife, the Leonidas of the Cheyennes; Chief Joseph,
the Xenophon of the Nez Perces; Wabasha, Little Wolf,
Pita-Lesharu, Washakie, and a hundred others might be
named to demonstrate the Redman’s progress toward his
ideals. |
SUMMARY
Who that reads this record can help saying: ‘‘If these
things be true, then, judging by its fruits, the Indian way
must be better than ours. Wherein can we claim the
better thought or results?”
To answer is not easy. My first purpose was to clear the
memory of the Redman. To compare his way with ours,
we must set our best men against his, for there is little
difference in our doctrine.
One great difference in our ways is that, like the early
Christians, the Indian was a Socialist. The tribe owned the
ground, the rivers and the game; only personal property
was owned by the individual, and even that, it was consid-
ered a shame to greatly increase. For they held tnat greed
grew into crime, and much property made men forget the
poor.
Our answer to this is that, without great property, that is
56 The Book of Woodcraft
power in the hands of one man, most of the great business
enterprises of the world could not have been; especially
enterprises that required the prompt action impossible in a
national commission. All great steps in national progress
have been through some one man, to whom the light came,
and to whom our system gave the power to realize his idea.
The Indian’s answer is, that all good things would have
been established by the nation as it needed them; anything
coming sooner comes too soon. The price of a very rich
man is many poor ones, and peace of mind is worth more
than railways and skyscrapers.
In the Indian life there was no great wealth, so also pov-
erty and starvation were unknown, excepting under the
blight of national disaster, against which no system can
insure. Without a thought of shame or mendicancy, the
young, helpless and aged all were cared for by the nation
that, in the days of their strength, they were taught and
eager to serve.
And how did it work out? Thus: Avarice, said to be
the root of all evil, and the dominant characteristic of our
race, was unknown among Indians, indeed it was made
impossible by the system they had developed.
These facts long known to the few are slowly reaching all
our people at large, in spite of shameless writers of history,
that have done their best to discredit the Indian, and to
that end have falsified every page and picture that promised
to gain for him a measure of sympathy.
Here are the simple facts of the long struggle between the
two races:
There never yet was a massacre of Indians by whites —
and they were many — except in time of peace and made
possible by treachery.
There never yet was an Indian massacre of whites except
in times of declared war to resist invasion.
The Spartans of the West o7
There never yet was an Indian war but was begun by the
whites violating their solemn treaties, encroaching on the
Indians’ lands, stealing the Indians’ property or murdering
their people.
There never yet was a successful campaign of whites
against Indians except when the whites had other Indians
to scout, lead and guide them; otherwise the Redmen were
too clever for the whites.
There never yet was a successful war of whites against
Indians except when the whites were in overwhelming
numbers,with superior equipments and unlimited resources.
There cannot be the slightest doubt that the Indian was
crushed only by force of superior numbers. And had the
tribes been united even, they might possibly have owned
America to-day.
Finally, a famous Indian fighter of the most desperate
period thus summarizes the situation and the character of
the dispossessed:
“History can show no parallel to the heroism and fortitude of
the American Indians in the two hundred years’ fight during
which they contested inch by inch the possession of their coun-
try against a foe infinitely better equipped, with inexhaustible
resources, and in overwhelming numbers. Had they even been
equal in numbers, history might have had a very different story
to tell.’”’ (Gen. Nelson A. Miles, U.S. A., Letter, February 16,
1912.)
I never yet knew a man who studied the Indians or lived
among them, without becoming their warm friend and
ardent admirer. Professor C. A. Nichols, of the South-
western University, a deep student of Indian life, said to
me, sadly, one day last autumn: “I am afraid we have
stamped out a system that was producing men who, taken
all around, were better than ourselves.”’
58 The Book of Woodcraft
Our soldiers, above all others, have been trained to hate
the Redmen, and yet the evidence of those that have lived
years with this primitive people is, to the same effect as that
of missionaries and travelers, namely, that, the high-class
Indian was brave; he was obedient to authority. He was
kind, clean and reverent. He was provident, unsordid,
hospitable, dignified, courteous, truthful, and honest. He
was the soul of honor. He lived a life of temperance and
physical culture that he might perfect his body, and so he
achieved a splendid physique. He was a wonderful hunter, —
a master of woodcraft, and a model for outdoor life in this
country. He was heroic and picturesque all the time.
He knew nothing of the forgiveness of sin, but he
remembered his Creator all the days of his life, and
was in truth one of the finest types of men the world has
ever known.
We set out to discover the noble Redman. Have we
entirely failed?
Surely,it is our duty, at least, to do justice to his memory,
and that justice shall not fail of reward. For this lost and
dying type can help us in many ways that we need, even as
he did help us in the past. Have we forgotten that in
everything the white pioneer learned of woodcraft, the
Indian was the teacher? And when at length came on the
white man’s fight for freedom, it was the training he got
from the Redman that gave him the victory. So again, to
fight a different enemy to-day, he can help us. And in our
search for the ideal outdoor life, we cannot do better than
take this Indian, with his reverence and his carefully cul-
tured physique, as a model for the making of men, and as a
pattern for our youth who would achieve high manhood,
in the Spartan sense, with the added graces of courtesy,
honor and truth.
The Spartans of the West 59
The world knows no higher ideal than the Man of Gali-
lee; nevertheless, oftentimes, it is helpful to the Plainsmen
climbing Mount Shasta, if we lead them, first, to Sheep-
Rock Shoulder, before attempting the Dome that looks
down upon the clouds.
STANDARD INDIAN BOOKS
““Drake’s Indian Chiefs, the lives of more than 200 Indian
Chiefs, by Samuel G. Drake. Boston. 1832.
““Adventures of Captain Bonneville,” by Washington
Irving, in 3 vols. London. 1837. An amazing record
of the truly noble Redmen.
“North American Indians,’’ by George Catlin, in 2 vols.
London. 1866. A famous book; with many illustrations.
“Life Amongst the Modocs,” by Joaquin Miller, Bentley
& Son. London. 1873. A classic. The story of a
white boy’s life among the uncontaminated Redmen.
“Tndian Sign Language,” by W. P. Clark. Philadelphia,
Pa. 1884. A valuable cyclopedia of Indian life, as well
as the best existing treatise on Sign Language.
“A Century of Dishonor,’ by Helen Jackson (H. H.).
Boston. 1885. ‘Treats of the shameful methods of the
U. S. in dealing with Indians, an unbroken record of
one hundred years of treachery, murder and infamy.
“On the Border With Crook,” by John G. Bourke, U.S. A.
Scribner’s Sons. New York. 1891. A soldier account
of the Apache War. Setting out an Indian hater, he
60 The Book of Woodcraft
learned the truth and returned to make a terrible ar-
raignment of the U. S. Government.
“Indian Boyhood,” by Charles A. Eastman, M. D. Mc-
Clure, Phillips & Co. New York. 1902. A Sioux
Indian’s story of his own boyhood.
“The Story of the Indian,” by G. B. Grinnell. Appleton
& Co. New York. tigo02.
“Two Wilderness Voyagers,” by F. W. Calkins. Fleming
H. Revell Co. New York. 1902. The Indian Babes
in the Woods.
“Lives of Famous Indian Chiefs,” by W. B. Wood. Ameri-
can Indian Hist. Pub. Co. Aurora, Ill. 1906.
““My Life as an Indian,” by J. W. Schultz. Doubleday,
Page & Co. New York. 1907. A white man’s life
among the Blackfeet in the old days.
‘““Handbook of American Indians,” by F. W. Hodge and
associates. Pub. in 2 large vols. by Smithsonian Insti-
tution, Washington, D. C. 1907. This is a concise
and valuable encyclopedia of Indian names and matters.
‘‘Famous Indian Chiefs I have Known,” by Gen. O. O.
Howard. U. S. A. The Century Co. New York
1908. Treats of Osceola, Washakie, etc. from the
white man’s standpoint.
“The Soul of the Indian,” by Charles A. Eastman.
Houghton, Mifflin Co. Boston & New York. ig11. A
Sioux Indian’s account of his people’s religion.
“‘Legends of Vancouver,” by Pauline Johnson. Thomson
Stationery Co., Vancouver, B. C. 1912. A valuable
collection of charming legends gathered on the West
coast.
Besides these the Annual Reports of the Bureau of Eth-
nology, (1878 to date, Smithsonian Institution, Washing-
ton, D. C.) are full of valuable information about
Indians.
III. The Purpose and Laws of the
Woodcraft Indians
The Redman’s Way
HUS have I shown forth the ways of the great
Redmen. And their high code I would here set
down for the growth and guidance of all young
people, for the building up of their bodies and the helping
and strengthening of their souls. That they may go forth
with the seeing eye, the steady hand and muscles that fail
not; and learn to know the pleasant ways of the woods,
and be in all-wise masters of themselves. That no manner
of stress or ill-fortune or hardship or wounding of the
spirit may come, but they shall face it without flinching.
Yea, with the calm fortitude of the Proven Minisino,
rather rejoicing that the Great Spirit has been pleased
to send them so noble an occasion to show forth how fully
each one, by his will, is ruler of a great soul in its worthy
tabernacle.
This is, indeed, the thought in our Nation and in the
Lodge of Vigil:
Our watchword is ‘‘ Blue Sky.”’ For under the blue sky,
in the sunlight, we seek to live our lives; and our thoughts
are of “‘blue sky,” for that means “‘cheer’’; and when there
are clouds, we know that the blue sky is ever behind them,
and will come again.
Our totem is the white horned-shield, with horns of blue.
61
62
The Book of Woodcraft
The horns are given to fight, and the shield to ward off. In |
these, we symbolize that we are ready for all manner of trial.
Our war-cry is ‘How Kola! How Kola! How Kola!
Shunka meneetu Y aooooooo!”’ (which is the ‘‘ Hail! Brother,”
and the wolf, and the howl of the wolf).
Our sign is the closed hand held up, with little finger and
thumb out as horns; and raising the hand, so held palm
forward to the head, and down, is both a courteous salute
and a sign that we are of the Brotherhood. Some also in
salute add the word ‘‘ How,”’ or “ Haw.”
THE LAWS
Obedience. Obedience is the foundation of all law;
therefore, at all times; obey the law and the Chief
and the Council of your Tribe, without evil-speaking
or resentment or delay.
Courage. The greatest of all gifts is courage, and the
meanest of faults is fear. In the words of Quonab,
“My father taught me there is nothing that can
shame a man but being afraid.”
Cleanliness. There is no strength without cleanliness.
While the Redmen took an ice-cold morning plunge
Purpose and Laws 63
each day, from snow around again to snow, there
were none on earth to match them in their strength.
But when they fell from this high estate, and forgot
the old way, their strength went from them, because
with dirt came in disease, and they became its prey;
for foul disease is ever the child of dirt, be it in per-
son, in camp, in speech, or in mind.
Smoking. Let no one use tobacco till he be a full-
grown man of eighteen snows; and then only as a
burnt sacrifice to the Great Spirit. In the child or
the young brave, it saps the strength; but in the man
it may be a helper of prayer and meditation.
Fire-water. No Fire-water in camp. Should we drink
of destruction, or surrender to an enemy that will
wreck our bodies and turn our wisdom into folly?
Wild-life. The Great Spirit made all things, and we
have no right to unmake them, except we know it be
to preserve ourselves. Therefore, protect all song-
birds and harmless squirrels. Keep the game-laws,
and do no harm to the beauty of the landscape.
Wild-fire. The forest is the father of the rivers and the
game. There can be no good thing without the
forest. ‘The enemy of the forest is wild-fire. There-
fore, at all times, be sure to fight it, and leave no
camp fire unguarded, lest it should become wild-
fire.
Kindness. Above all others, the great Tecumseh was
kind to every man and to the beasts. And his kind-
ness came again to him. It caused him no loss; no,
not the value of a hair, and it gave him power over
all men. Let each one strive to do at least one act
of kindness every day, for thereby he becomes
kinder, and his kindness comes to him again.
Play Fair. Play no game except according to the
64 The Book of Woodcraft
rules of the game. Loyalty is playing fair; foul
play is treachery.
to. Silence. Do not hasten to speak before your elders.
Keep silence in youth, then it may be your older
thoughts will be worth the telling.
11. Reverence. Respect all worship of the Great Spirit;
ard show deference to those that are your elders.
12. Word of Honor. Word of honor is sacred.
THE RULERS OF THE NATION
The whole Nation is ruled by The Great Council, to which
all our Head Chiefs, Rulers, Nobles, and Medicine Men may
belong, if the Council itself invite them. They are many.
They meet once a year, and elect in person:
The High Council of Guidance, which shall be made up of
fifteen leaders of the Nation and the Head Chief of all
the Medicine Lodges.
They meet as often as they need, and in them is power
to make change and enforce all laws. These sixteen shall
elect their own Chief, one of themselves. Seven shall be
a sufficient and lawful meeting if duly heralded.
The whole Nation is divided into three Lodges:
The Little Lodge, for the very young (all under 15).
The Big Lodge, for the young men (of 15 years and all
above).
The Medicine Lodge of the Old Guides and the Medicine
Men (for those who have reached the years of manhood,
even 21).
Tribe. Each of the first two Lodges is further divided
into Tribes numbering from 20 to 100 members in each.
Band. And, again, each Tribe into Bands of 5 to to
members each.
The Medicine Lodge, or Lodge of the Old Guides. This is
Purpose and Laws 65
open to all men of ripe years, who have shown a right spirit
within, and loving the ways of the woods are willing to help;
and who also are voted worthy by the Council of their Medi-
cine Lodge. Nevertheless, the High Council of Guidance
may withhold its consent, so the election becomes void.
If besides being Old Guides, they take also the degrees of
Camper, Camp Cook, Camp Doctor, and Gleeman, or
Herald, they may become Medicine Men of the Lodge, and
for those who would follow further, there is the Inmost or
Red Lodge of Power whose secrets are known only to the
Head Chief of the Lodge and to certain others, but are not
to be set down on paper, or given to the people at large.
In the Medicine Lodge, each Medicine Man has two
votes, whereas each Old Guide has but one.
In every Tribe is at least one Old Guide or Medicine Man,
who presides over their search for wisdom, and their
Councils, in time of difficulty, helping with his experience
and riper knowledge. Four times in every Moon, he should
hold Council with his Tribe, from snow around again to
snow.
THE INITIATION OF A BRAVE
All who would learn the life, and take on the vows of the
other Lodges, must pass through three stages of: (1) Indian
Boy; (2) Young Brave; and (3) Minisino or Tried Warrior.
Before being admitted as an Indian Boy, he must:
(1) Know the laws of the Lodge.
(2) Have slept out three nights without a roof overhead
(tents allowed).
(3) Be proposed, seconded, posted, for one Moon, if not
in camp, or for seven suns when in camp; and then voted
into a Band by that Band (one blackball to exclude).
After this, he faces some trial of his fortitude, and, if
found worthy, may take the vow in this wise:
66 The Book of Woodcraft |
Standing before the Old Guide or Medicine Man in oper!
Council, he shall be questioned and instructed, so he shal]
know more fully of the sacred purpose of the Order. Then,
the Medicine Man shall say to him:
“Is it your serious wish to become a member of the
Order of Woodcraft Indians?”’
Assi St dss
“Can any here testify that you have fully qualified, by
learning the law of the Lodge, by sleeping out for three
nights, and by being found acceptable to the Band you wish’
to join?”
Ans. (by the officer who knows): ‘“‘Yes, O Chief, I can
vouch for him.’
“You know our laws; we shall take them one by one.
(x) “Do you promise obedience to the Council?”
Ans}, 1 dox%
(And so, through the twelve laws, whereby he is bound
to obedience, courage, cleanliness, abstinence from fire-
water, tobacco; and to cherish the Great Spirit’s gifts; and
to kindness, fair-play, loyalty, silence, reverence, honor.) —
The Meticine Man then says: “Raise your right hand
and say afterme: ‘J give my word of honor that I will obey
the Chief and Council and the laws of my Tribe, and if at any
time I fail in my duty, I will appear before the Council, when
ordered, and submit without murmuring to its decision.’”
Now, the Medicine Man pins. the badge over the candi-
date’s heart, takes him by the hand, and says: “‘I receive
you into our Order, and, by this badge, I confer on you the
degree of Indian Boy in the Band, and declare your instal-
ation complete, as a member of . . . . Bandin the
ee nee
Big Lodge.”
Thus he enters the Tribe and the Order by joining a
Band.
i
|
|
|
}
{
Purpose and Laws 67
THE LITTLE LODGE
(For those under 15 years old.)
Having thus entered the Little Lodge as Indian Roy, the
in step is Young Brave.
To become a Young Brave, the Indian Boy must:
(z) Have served one month at least in his low degree.
(2) Know fifty signs of the Sign Language.
(3) Know ten forest trees.
(4) Walk a mile in fifteen minutes.
(s) Swim fifty yards.
(6) Followatrail a quarter ofa mile (nosnow) in one hour.
_ (7) Know the Dipper and the Pole Star.
(8) Light five successive fires with one match each, in
different places; wildwood material only.
(9) Have slept out twelve nights (it need not be in
succession).
Minisino or Tried Warrior. To become a Minisino the
Young Brave must:
(1) Know elementary first aid.
(2) Know twenty forest trees; fruit, leaf and trunk.
(3) Know one hundred signs of the Sign Language.
~(4) Light ten successive campfires with ten matches
(with wildwood material).
(5) ‘Tie five standard knots in a rope.
(6) Swim one hundred yards.
(7) Walk three miles in one hour.
(8) Know the Pole Star, the two Dippers, and at least
three of the other constellations.
(9) Have slept out thirty nights.
(10) Be sunburnt to the waist.
_ (at) Have cooked nine digestible meals by the campfire.
: (12) Havea good record in keeping the Laws of the Order.
68 The Book of Woodcraft :
THE BIG LODGE
(For those 15 years of age, and over.)
To become an Indian Boy in the Big Lodge, the quali-
fication is the same as in the Little Lodge, excepting that
the candidate must be fifteen or over.
If he is a graduate of the Little Lodge, he may take his
Second Degree without waiting a month.
Young Brave. To become a Young Brave, the Indian
Boy must: |
Have had one month’s service as Boy, and take the same!
tests as in the Little Lodge are required to pesca for’
Minisino or Tried Warrior. ;
Minisino. To become a Minisino, the Young Brave
must:
(1) Have a thorough course in first aid.
(2) Know two hundred signs of the Sign Language.
(3) Know ten constellations.
(4) Know twenty-five native wild birds.
(5) Know fifteen native wild quadrupeds.
(6) Know thirty forest trees.
(7) Know twenty wild flowers.
(8) Swim one hundred yards in three minutes.
(9) Make a rubbing-stick fire with tools made by
himself.
(10) Light fifteen successive fires with fifteen matches
all in different places and with wildwood stuff. |
(11) Single-paddle a canoe one mile in twenty minutes.
(x2) Tie ten standard knots in a rope. ;
(13) Make an Indian bed, or else a serviceable bow anc
arrow. |
(14) Dance any good campfire dance.
(zs) Walk four miles in one hour.
Purpose and Laws 69
(16) Set up a two-man tent, single-handed.
(17) Be able to make a comfortable, rainproof shelter,
and a dry, comfortable bed, also light a fire and cook a meal,
including roast meat, boiled potatoes, and fresh bread,
with no tools or utensils but a hatchet and what he can make
with it.
THE LAWS FOR THE RULING OF THE TRIBE
I. NAME
This Brotherhood shall be called “‘ The (any local Indian
name) Tribe of the Jie: plodee of Woodcraft Indians.”
II. PURPOSE
The true purpose of this Tribe in its Councils shall be to
learn of the great Redmen, and to seek out and follow such
things as they teach in the outdoor life and the pleasures
of woodcraft, and help us to work actively for the preser-
vation of wild-life and landscape, and cherish the spirit of
Brotherhood, and, above all, see the Beautiful in all things,
and through all these achieve a high manhood.
Ill. WHO MAY ENTER *
Those who would enter must show themselves worthy,
according to the established initiation.
The number in the Tribe may not exceed 50 (or other
number, as agreed).
Those who would enter must be admitted to a Band,
which is already part of the Tribe, or is afterward made
such.
The Indian Boy has no vote in the Tribe, nor can he hold
70 The Book of Woodcraft
office; he must first become a Young Brave. Young
Braves and Minisino have each a vote, and may hold office.
Iv. COUNCILS
A Council of the Tribe should be held in the first part of
each Moon.
The yearly Council for the election of officers shall be
held on the first sun of the Crow Moon (March) or as soon
after as possible.
The moons are: Snow (Jan.), Hunger (Feb.), Crow or Wakening (March),
Grass (April), Planting (May), Rose (June), Thunder (July), Red (Aug.),
Hunting (Sep.), Leaf-falling (Oct.), Mad (Nov.), Long-night (Dec.).
Special Councils may be called by the Chief, and must be
called by him upon the written request of one fourth of the
Council, or one third of the Tribe.
A quarter of the whole number shall be a quorum of the
Council or Tribe. Seven suns’ notice must be given before
each Council.
A Brave or Minisino may vote at any Council of the
Tribe, by proxy in his own handwriting.
V. THE RULERS OF THE TRIBE
Head Chief, elected by the whole Tribe. He should be
strong and acceptable, for he is the leader and must enforce
the laws. He is Head of the Council and of the Tribe and
has charge of the standard which bears the totem of the
dibe:
The Second Chief takes the Head Chief’s place in his
absence; otherwise, he is merely a Councilor. He is
elected by the whole Tribe.
So, also, the elected Third Chief is leader, only when the
other two are away.
Purpose and Laws va
Wampum Chief or Keeper. He is not elected, but
appointed for one year by the Chief. He is charged with
keeping the money and public property of the Tribe, except
the records. He ought to have a lock-box or small trunk
to keep valuables in.
Chief of the Painted Robe or Feather Tally. He is not
elected, but appointed for one year by the Chief. He keeps
the tribal records, including the Book of Laws, the Roster or
Roll, the Winter Count or Record of Camps and Seasons,
and the Feather Tally, or Record of Honors and Exploits.
He enters nothing except as commanded by the Council.
He should be an artist.
Sometimes one Councilor or Chief holds more than one
office.
_ The Old Guide or Medicine Man is elected and appointed
by the whole Tribe. He is a member of the Council with-
out election.
Add to these the Chief of each Band or Clan in the Tribe,
and all the Sachems and Sagamores (see page 74); pro-
vided always that that number of non-elective members
shall mot exceed the number of elective members. These
officers and Councilors form the governing body. (If
there are too many Nobles, omit those who were latest
raised to rank.)
All disputes, etc., are settled by the Chief and the Coun- .
cil. The Council makes the laws and fixes the dues. The
Chief enforces the laws.
All rulers are elected or appointed for one year, or until
their successors are chosen. ‘The election to take place on,
or as soon as possible after, Spring Day, which is the first
Sun of the Crow Moon (March rst).
Each year an Honorary Life Member may be elected.
(Whenever in doubt, follow the National Constitution.)
72 The Book of Woodcraft
Vow of the Head Chief. (To be signed with his name and
totem in the Tally Book.) I give my word of honor that I
will maintain the Laws, see fair play in all the doings of the
Tribe, and protect the weak.
Vow of each Brave. (To be signed with the name and
totem of each in the Tally Book.) I give my word of honor
that I will obey the Chief and Council of my Tribe, and if I
fail in my duty, I will appear before the Council, when
ordered, and submit without murmuring to their decision.
VI. CHANGES OF THE LAW
Changes of this code may be in harmony with the
National laws made at any Council by a two-thirds vote
of all the Tribe.
Notice of proposed amendments shall be made public for
at least seven suns before the meeting.
VII. DUES
Dues shall be, first . . . '. . @ year; Seconudenss
assessments made by the Council for Tribal property;
and, third, when necessary, the Council shall assess those
taking part in camp.
The initiation fee for new Braves shall be ,
which shall include the first year’s dues, but this shall nae
include assessments.
VIII. SECRET
It is charged that all keep secret the doings in Council.
Ix. LAWS AND PUNISHMENTS
The laws are as already given on pages 62-64.
Punishments are meted out by the Chief and Council,
after a hearing of the case. They consist of:
Purpose and Laws 73
Exclusion from the games or boats for a time.
Reduction in rank, or of fines, etc.
The extreme penalty is death; that is, banishment from
the Tribe.
THE BAND OR CLAN
Each Band or Clan of not less than five or more than ten
members, elects its Chief for one year, or until his successor
is elected. The Chief appoints his own Second Chief, to act
in his absence, and also a Tally Keeper, who should be an
attist, for it is his office to keep the records, the Winter
Count, and the Tally Robe of his Band, and it is his glory to
_ embellish them in all ways. A Wampum Keeper, also, is
needed, and may be appointed by the Chief, though he,
himself may act, unless otherwise arranged. The other
members, even those of lowest degree, sit in the Council
without election.
Two to fifteen, or even twenty, Bands, unite to form a
Tribe.
Every member of the Band is a member of the Tribe,
because the tests are the same; and he may use the Tribal
Totem and War Cry. But the Band has also a Totem and
a War Cry of its own.
The Band keeps its own Tally, and raises what dues it
pleases. But it also pays dues to the Tribe and is repre-
sented in the Tribal Council by its Chief and Nobles (if
any) and such Tribal Councillors as it can elect.
One Medicine Man or Old Guide may serve for the whole
Tribe.
COSTUMES
The costume of the Little Lodge is a coat of olive-green
khaki, with knee breeches of the same. Across the back
from shoulder to shoulder, a line of fringe one inch deep.
The costume of the Big Lodge, of the Old Guide, and of
74 The Book of Woodcraft
the Medicine Man, is the same, with fringe on the shoulders
but not across the back; and may have on the trousers,
down the outer seam, from the knee to the bottom, a
fringe which begins at a quarter-inch deep, and widens
gradually till it ends an inch deep at the bottom.
On great occasions, much regalia and gorgeous Indian
costumes are worn, but the badges are the same.
TITLES OF NOBLES
When a Brave has won 24 honors in either Lodge, accord-
ing to the Standard of Honors, he may claim the title of
Sagamore.”
He that has won 24 grand honors becomes a Grand Saga-
more.
He that has won 48 honors becomes a Sachem.
He that has won 48 grand honors becomes a Grand
Sachem.
All Sachems and Sagamores sit in the Council of their
Tribe without election, and by right of their honors. But
the Lodges do not mingle; that is, a member of the Little
Lodge cannot sit by right in a Council of the Big Lodge.
*During the ten years since the Order was founded only ten have won
the Sagamore’s Crown, viz: ,
Sagamore Plenty-Coups, 1905. (Douglas A. Miller, of Greenwich,
Conn.)
it Deerfoot, 1906. (Loraine ni Wood, of Rutherford,
INSEE
ap Deerslayer, 1906. (Willis R. Monroe, of Cos Cob, Conn.)
a” Silver-Fox, 1908. (S. Miller Jordan, of Rutherford, N. J.)
si Kingbird, 1910. (Jas. F. Gilkinson, of Middletown,
Conn.)
2 Eagle-eye, 1911. (Geo. L. White, of Cos Cob, Conn.)
» Little Thunder, 1912. (Albert E. Finiels, of Cos Cob, Conn.)
y Little Beaver, 1912. (Richard L. Burdsall, of Port Chester,
N
ba
a Karonawa, 1912. (Paul Cecil Spofford, of Port Chester,
ae
3 Ningonit, 1912. (Edward D. Graber, of Greenwich,
Conn.)
Purpose and Laws 75
BADGES OF RANK
The badge of the dian Boy in the Little Lodge is a green
ribbon, fastened on with a green pin bearing the blue
horned white shield of the Woodcraft Indians.
The badge for the Young Brave in the Little Lodge is a
blue ribbon, pinned on with the horned-shield pin. It is
worn on the breast, but may be repeated, with the symbol
cut out of cloth, and sewn on the arm.
INDIAN BOY YOUNG BRAVE MINISINO
(Little Lodge) (Little Lodge) (Little Lodge) i UCUCL(
(Big Lodge)
The badge for the Minisino or Tried Warrior in the
Little Lodge is the same, but with red ribbon.
The badge of the Chief in either Lodge is a head-band
with two horns on it, worn in addition to his other badge.
The badges for the Big Lodge are the same as for the
Little Lodge, excepting that behind the emblem is a triangle
or “Big Lodge” of yellow cloth. This is not seen in the
badge of the Little Lodge, for the reason that the ‘‘Lodge”’
is so small, it is surely hidden behind the shield.
The titles, Sagamore, Grand Sagamore, Sachem, and
Grand Sachem, also may be won by those of the Big Lodge,’
taking, however, the standards proper for their age.
On entering the Big Lodge, he does not carry with him the
76 The Book of Woodcraft
titles won in the Little Lodge,
but begins again in his new
degree.
The badge of the Old Guide is
the horned-shield on a broad
blue band which goes around
the left arm.
The badge of the Medicine
Man is the same, but with a red
SAGAMORE eae band, and on the shield are two
eyes, to signify that he is a Seer,
GRAND whereas, others move in blind-
SAGAMORE noo
The badge of the Sagamore is a
SACHEM , / black and white warbonnet.
The badge of the Grand Sag-
> amore is a black and white, tuf-
ted warbonnet.
pean The badge of the Sachem is a
\ black and white warbonnet with
tail.
The badge of the Grand Sachem is a black and white
tufted warbonnet with two tails. All are worn on the spear
arm, or on the breast.
THE STANDARD
The standard of the Tribe or Band is a staff about eight
feet long, painted red, and bearing a shield on which is the
totem of the Tribe or Band. A small shield on top is white
with blue horns, to typify the whole nation. The standard
is carried around when a proclamation is being made. If
the Chief deputes another to be Herald, he also gives him
the standard to carry as a badge of authority.
Purpose and Laws 77
Some carry a banner standard instead of a shield stand-
ard: in which case the. banner is hung on a cross piece.
-trail-.
Red= trai
Standard,
When not in use, it is stuck in the
ground, near the Chief’s teepee or place
in Council.
TOTEMS
The Totem of the whole Nation of
BANNER STANDARDS. Woodcraft Indians is the White Buffalo
head, symbolized by the Horned White Shield. This is
used chiefly on Totem poles and on publications.
Each Tribe, of course, has a
special Totem. This is selected
by the Council, and should be
something easy to draw. So, also,
each Band has its totem and,
finally, each Brave adds a private
Totem of his own, usually a drawing
of his Indian name, if he wins one.
The first of these Tribes took as its Totem a Blue Buffalo,
and so became the Blue Buffalo Tribe; and Deerfoot, the Chief,
uses the Blue Buffalo Totem, with his own added underneath.
78 The Book of Woodcraft
As soon as organized, the Tribe or Band should
select a Totem and a Call. Take one out of the
accompanying list, or a modification of one of them;
or take any one that is suggested by them. Thus,
you might take the “Wild Cat,’ but wish to have
it of some other color. This you are free to do. Take
one, two, three, or even four colors if you like, but two
are most convenient. When the book says “purple on
green,”’ that means the Totem is in purple; all the rest of
the flag is green. Do not be afraid to select other colors,
but always keep them as flat tints; avoid mere pictures
on the flag.
Lines are easily put in with black paint, when they are
needed, which is not often.
Any bird, animal, tree, or flower, will do for To-
tem, but it is all the better if it have some special
reason.
One Tribe set out on a long journey to look for a Totem.
They agreed to take the first living wild thing that they saw-
and knew the name of. They traveled all one day and
saw nothing to suit, but next day, in a swamp, they startled
a blue heron. It went off with a harsh cry. So they be-
came the ‘‘Blue Herons,” and adopted as a war cry the
croak of the bird and its name — “ Hrrrrr — Blue Heron.”
Another Band may have the Wolf Totem. The Snap-
ping Turtles were formed because their camp was on
a lake that was the haunt of a huge snapper. The
Flying Eagles had organized, but were sitting in
Council waiting for a sign to guide them in choice of
a name. A bald eagle came from the lake, flew over the
camp, then went back on the lake. This was accepted as
the sign, and the Tribe became the Flving Eagle Band
of New Jersey
Purpose and Laws 79
ORDER OF DOINGS IN COUNCIL
The Head Chief, or the Herald he may appoint, walks
around with the standard, announcing that a Council is to
be held, and all must come to Council.
The form used among the Ogallala is Neetah Kolah
nahoonpo omneechee-yay nee-chopi. (My friends, give ear,
a Council we hold.)
For “assent” or “approval” we say How, for “dissent”
or “‘no’”’ we say Wah.
Opening Council with Omaha Tribal Prayer. (See
page 145)
Roll Call.
Tally of last Council and report of Tally Chief.
Report of Wampum Chief.
Reports of Scouts.
Left-over business.
Complaints.
Honors awarded.
New braves.
New business.
Challenges, etc.
Social doings, songs, dances, stories.
Closing Council.
HOW TO BEGIN
Suppose that you have a lot of fellows that want to forma
Band of Woodcraft Indians. They ought to be a gang that
usually goes together, not less than five or more than ten,
between 8 and 15, or 15 and 18 years of age. They should
live near each other. It is no use taking in fellows that
live in another town. With these you organize a Band.
_ This is how to go about it: Get a copy of the “Book of
Woodcraft” from your local book-seller or from Doubleday,
80 The Book of Woodcraft
Page & Co., Garden City, L. I., N. Y., and read or tell them
the first few pages, the Laws of the Lodges, and the Life of
Tecumseh. Talk it over and see if all are fully inspired
with the idea. If they take to it, get some suitable man to
act as your Old Guide, which means he is a man of good
character and able and willing to give the time. He must
begin by breaking you in as Indian Boys.
For this you qualify as follows:
Know the Indian laws, signs, and salute.
Have slept out three nights without a roof overhead.
Be proposed, recorded, posted for one Moon, if not in
camp, or for Seven Suns when in camp, and then voted into
the Band by that band (one blackball to exclude). Unless
this is the foundation of a new band in which case it is
enough if all are willing to accept the candidate as a founder
without waiting.
Each then takes the pledge as given on pages 65-6,
is enrolled as an Indian Boy, and is invested with the green
badge.
While the fellows are preparing, it is well to think on
what name the band is to bear. Turn to the pages given
Totems and Calls for suggestions. You should use some
animal or object that is easy to draw and not already used
by a band in your region, preferably one or something, that
belongs to your country. Do not hesitate to make little
changes in the color, etc., of the design if you can make it
more acceptable.
Thus you may wish to use the Wolf Totem because some
of your fellows are good at howling, or the Hoot Owl be-
cause your leader has had some good lessons in hooting; but
you cannot take them as they stand because there is already
a Wolf and Hoot Owl Band in your region. All you need to
do is to change the color, and make it the Black Wolf, Red
Hoot Owl, etc., as you please.
Purpose and Laws 81
For colors take two, three or four if you like, but two is
the best combination.
Having got the Band together let them elect for one
year a Chief, one of their number, the natural leader of the
gang.
Let this leader get a blank book about 7 x 9, with about
200 pages in it, to be the Tally Book of the band. This he
should either keep himself or appoint one of his band to
keep. He should also appoint a Wampum Keeper or else
take the office himself.
THE TALLY BOOK AND HOW TO KEEP IT
The Tally Book is the record of the Band’s doings. It
should be kept like the proceedings of any other society.
The Tally Keeper who is an artist has a great advantage, as
a few sketches and photographs thrown in make a most
interesting variation.
Some of these Tally Books are beautifully illustrated with
colored drawings and are highly prized. In some cases
each member has added his thumb. mark in printer’s
ink opposite his name when first entered.
The first page of the Tally Book should bear an inscrip- °
tion thus:
The Tally Book
of the
Thunder Band (or whatever it is)
of Woodcraft Indians
For Example. The next page should say for example:
On the First day of the Snow Moon (January) of 1910, the
following assembled at No. 139 Tenth Avenue, to form a
Band of Indians.
82 The Book of Woodcraft
Jas. Cameron as their Old Guide,
John Smith Peter Petro
Jas. O’Brien Sam Selig
Patrick Keenan John June
Robert Junk
(The address of each added.)
It was agreed that the regular order of business should be
followed in all business meetings: The Old Guide takes the
chair, or in his absence, or at his request, the Chief of the
Band takes the chair and the meeting goes as follows:
Roll Call New Braves
Read the Tally of the last | New business
meeting Studies
Report of Scouts Social doings, songs, dances,
Left-over business stories
Complaints Adjournment.
Honors
8th Sun Snow Moon, 1o10. Second meeting of Band.
The Band assembled at 1149 East oth St., the home of
Sam Selig. At 7 o’clock the meeting was opened with
Guide Cameron in the chair.
The following also present: Smith, O’Brien, Keenan,
Junk, Petro, and June.
First the Old Guide announced that the Mohawks of
Manhattan were not willing to take us in as a Band of their
Tribe, as they had already 50 members.
Next the following were examined, passed and duly
sworn in as Indian Boys: Smith, O’Brien, Keenan, Junk,
and June. ‘This took in all the Band except two. It was
decided therefore to go ahead and complete the organi-
zation. After discussion it was agreed to call this the
“THUNDER BAND OF MANHATTAN (unattached),”
Purpose and Laws 83
its Totem and colors to be a red thunder-bolt on a black
circle in the middle of the white flag; our War Cry is to
be: Rumble, Rumble, Thunder, Bang, Crash-sh-sh, begin-
ning low and rising higher and stronger to the Bang
then dying away on the sh-sh.
A resolution to call it the “Bowery Pirates” was voted
down, as was the suggestion to call it the ‘“‘ Yellow Dogs” —
in spite of the fact that O’Brien could lead with a fine imi-
tation of a small dog in deep trouble. Keenan said it was
better than the dog could do it.
Smith was elected Chief for one year. He appointed
Keenan as his Second and Petro as his Tally Keeper.
The rest of the time was spent teaching the laws to the
other two and in taking the first lesson in Sign Language.
The Old Guide gave us the Laws in a shorter form:
The Indian Laws in Brief
Obedience is the brave’s first duty.
Courage is the brave’s highest gift.
Keep yourself and your camp Clean.
No Smoking till you are eighteen.
No Alcohol in Camp.
Take care of all harmless Wild-life.
Ever guard against Wild-fire.
Do at least one Kindness every day.
Play Fair. Foul play is treachery.
10. Keep Silence before your elders, unless duty bids
you speak.
11. Respect all Worship of the Great Spirit.
12. Word of Honor is sacred.
oe ae ee
2
An assessment of toc each was made to buy badges and
cover postage.
84 The Book of Woodcraft
An application was made by three fellows on Fourth
Avenue for membership, but was refused as the Band was
full. But they were invited to join the meetings as outside
Scouts or visitors until they had enough to form a new Band
under the same Guide.
It was arranged to hold the next meeting at Keenan’s,
1100 Fifth Avenue.
Meeting adjourned at 9g o’clock.
15th Sun Snow Moon, 1910. Third meeting of the
Thunder Band. Held at Selig’s as arranged. Old Guide
Cameron in the chair. Etc., etc., etc.
1st Sun Hunger Moon, 1910. Fifth meeting, etc.
At this meeting Smith, the Chief, was able to qualify as a
Young Brave, and so the Old Guide has sent for the badge.
Two others expect to qualify before a month.
The Thunder Band was sent into another room while
the Old Guide organized the new band of six members.
They are now “THE SCREECH OWLS” because two of
them can screech so loud; but they wouldn’t tell us how
they did it, or what their War Cry is.
Now we had two Bands, we agreed to unite and form a
tribe, keeping our own Band just the same. The name
decided on was the “TRIBE OF THUNDER-ROLLERS
OF THE LITTLE LODGE.” So each puts a small
Thunder Bird under the Totem of his Band. Nomina-
tions were made at once for Tribal officers.
The election came seven suns later. The Thunder Band
got their Chief in as Head Chief. The other officers were
about divided.
Whenever we can, we have Tribal meetings, but Band
meetings where only one Band is represented are easier to
arrange. We have one about once a week.
Purpose and Laws 85
_ The Guide says he will take us out camping next summer
if we all pass as Young Braves. We are trying hard and
mean to go.
_ Our Guide says The Indian Brave must be like Tecumseh;
besides a great master of Woodcraft he was
H — onorable.
O — bedient.
W — ild-fire fighter.
K — ind.
O — pposed to foul play.
L — over of wild life.
A — lcohol hater.
B — rave.
ais everent.
A — nti-smoker.
V —ery modest.
E — ver clean.
Which, reading down the initials, gives us the greeting
of our Tribes — How, Kela, Brave.
WAR CRY OF THE BAND
The Call or War Cry is something to be carefully con-
sidered. It is a great help if you get it right. The howl
of a wolf as suggested by “‘ Yow-w-w” is not the same as the
howl suggested by the wolf itself. Go to some zoo where
they have a lot of wolves and wait till you hear a real howl.
Oftentimes one can start them by howling. If you cannot
get a wolf to show you, listen to some big dog doing it; it is
pretty much the same. Remember the Call was used as a
signal when in the enemy’s country. If it is done exactly
right, the enemy think it is done by the animal not by the
Scout. The friends of the Scout know it is he that calls
because he gives it the right number of times or at the right
86 The Book of Woodcraft
intervals. Thus perhaps the Barred Owl Call is given three
times and the reply to that is arranged to be the cry but
once. If the answer is given three times to the three-times
Call that would mean that the one answering was not a
friend — it is either an enemy or the owl itself.
It is such a great help to get the Call just right that cer-
tain patrols have decided on a given Call, because that was
one which they knew or could do.
For these reasons it is well to avoid foreign animals, etc.
Nevertheless those who have taken such as “‘ Kangaroo,”
“Cockatoo,” and ‘‘Rhino,” need not change them but
rather adopt some call that will serve their purpose in our ©
own country.
When it comes to such things as ‘‘ Blue-Moon,” “‘ Echo,”
“Horseshoe,” ‘‘Red-hand,”’ etc., the Band can of course
decide on any good yell, howl, whistle, squeak noise or call
they like, only make it something peculiar and far-reaching.
They should practise it only among themselves. Out-
siders are not supposed to know it.
Remember then that the Calls and Totems given here are
mere suggestions, you can take one of these (if it is not
already in use in your town) or take any other bird, reptile,
fish, animal or object that commends itself to you and is
easy to draw.
In many of the Totems suggested no Call or War Cry is
given. To supply this use any local yell or cry that your
fellows can do or invent or make with two sticks, stones, or
other apparatus.
_
Purpose and Laws 87
ahem FLYING EAGLES. BLUE HERONS
is 1902. 1904.
alesis Black and white on red. Blue on green.
“Arrrrr.”
“Vek-yek-yek.”
HORNED <
KINGBIRDS.
BLACKBEARS.
1902.
Black and white on pale red. SINAWA. 1906,
1903. Black on red.
Black on red.
AHMEEKS. wi
1909.
Black on red
s SILVER FOXES. 19
o i, ”
A loud “‘s/ap-plong. 1904. RED TRAILERS.
Black on white. 1903.
Red on pale yellow.
RIL ES.
© © a
oe Maat
OWENOKES. tall
MOON BAND. 1904.
1905. Red with black lines BLAZING ARROW.
Yellow on blue. on pale blue. Red on pale yellow.
88
re
RAVEN.
Black on red.
Hroo-Hroo.
HOOT OWL.
Black and yellow on green.
Wa-ha-hoo-hoo.
SCREECH OWL.
Dark red, white face on
purple ground.
Whil-il-il-loo
A soft quavering cry.
BLACK WOLF.
Black on yellow or
LOBO BAND;
Gray on pink.
Ya-hoooooo.
WOLF.
Black on red for Wolves
Brown on yellow for Brown
Wolves.
Red on pale blue for Red
Wolves, etc., etc.
Yew-w-w.
LYNX.
Brown on gray.
Brown on blue.
Red on green.
Yow-wow-wow.
GRIZZLY.
Brown.
Grr-woof.
WILD CAT.
Gray or brown on tea green.
Yah-row-row
The Book of Woodcraft |
OKOKOHOO or
CAT OWL,
Red and white on purple.
Hoo-hoo-hoo.
BLACK CAT.
Black with yellow eyes on
yellow ground.
Me-ow.
FOX.
Red on yellow for Red Foxes.
Silver on gold for Silver
Foxes.
Yap-yurrr.
LITTLE BEAR.
Black or brown on pale buff.
W oof-woof.
Purpose and Laws 89
a :
omer ; —
Dark blue on pale green. FLYING BLACK HAWK.
LOON.
A long whistle. Black on orange or red.
Black and white for Red
a Loon, Amber Loon, etc.,
on blue ground.
THUNDER CANOE. A tremulous whooo.
Black or dark gray on pale
blue.
A whistle then a bang.
MUSTANG.
BLACK HAWK. BALD EAGLE. cra parte Sa eal
Black on red. White and brown on yellow. eh ae : idea ae
Kek-kek-kek. Krek-brekbav. Mapiy ited Me
‘v.
BUCKHORN.
Black buck, etc., on pale
green ground.
A shrill, hissing whistle.
NIGHT-BIRD.
Brown and whiteon pale blue-
BLUEHAWE. green.
Blue on blood red. Peabody-peabody-peabody
Indian warwhoop. whistled.
FORKED LIGHTNING.
Red or yellow on blue-green,
Fizz-bang.
THUNDER. BUCK. SEABIRD.
Orange on black. Purple on blue. Black and white.
Bang-rumble-boom. A shrill whistle. Kee-way-u.
go The Bool of Woodcraft
i
SHUNKA-REELA.
(running fox)
SILENT BEAVER. Yellow and black on pale
Brown on blue. Blue
No mouth —no cry,
S
RED-GODS.
Red on pale blue, ye S
Yap-yahoo. j
STING RAY.
Green with black marks o1 |
pale red ground. :
|
|
|
BADGER.
White and black on yellow BLAZING STAR.
ground. Yellow star—red tail—or
A rattling whistle. blue. E.
WHOOPING CRANE ne eS
White on blue ground—black
wing. WOLVERINE. BLUE MOON.
Kah-roo, a trumpeted croak. Black and pale brown on Pale blue on deep green.
white. Any known night song.
Garoooo.
=~ ee
RED-GODS. COUGAR, ECHO BAND.
Red with black lines on pale Dark brown on pale blue. Pale on dark blue.
blue. An awful yell. Ek-ho.
Purpose and Laws 91
FIRE-MOUNTAIN BAND.
: : Blue mountain, red flames
BUGLING ELK. on black.
Dark brown on rose red. COYOTE. Yip-yip-yahoo-bang.
Brown and white on yellow.
Yoop-yoop-yah-yow in as-
cending side like a coyote’s
bark.
MOOSE.
Black on pale green.
A long smooth bellow.
WHITE MOUNTAINS or
EK FLYING EAGLE. ae F aioe D.
it ue.
White and brown on pale Riebieskchsk,
CAT-IN-THE-NIGHT. blue.
Gray on black. Kek-Kek-Kek,
Prow-row.
THUND SUNRISE BAND.
Pek blue o: gf hit Yellow on pale blue.
ar m yellow, white
head. ARROW-FOOT. ae nica pag
Lightning comesifrom his eye. Red on blue field. "
. ¢ 73 COON.
vided Gray with black marks on a SUN Y BAND.
MOHAWE. red ground. Red or yellow on blue-green
Black and red on olive green A high pitched quavering or pink.
Indian whoop. Ho00-00-00-00. A long descending whistle.
92 | The Book of Woodcrait
bevel
LIGHT HEART.
Red on pale blue.
SHINING MOUNTAIN.
Dark blue semi-circle with
white mountain.
—<—Pa
KINGSNAKE. WAR QUILL.
coun Pe a Spots, White feather black tip and
g : red tuft on yellow.
ARROWHEADS.
Turquoise blue arrow on YELLOW QUILL.
dazk Brown. All yellow with black tip on
pine pale green.
re) oO
9
FLYING PATROL or \] °
FLEET FOOT or
WINGED HEEL. THE SEVEN STARS.
BLUE SKY White on red. Pale pink on dark blue.
v
Large blue circle on white.
Crm)
OJIBWA.
Orange on pale blue.
Peace Whoop.
DEERFOOT. RED-HAND.
Qeorl'3 Yellow and black on blue- Red hand on gray.
green. Ho.
Pat-Pat-Pat
RED ARROW.
Red on white.
— 0
BLACKFOOT. HORSESHOE. SNAPPER BAND.
Black and red Blue on pale yellow. Red on turquoise.
War Whoop. Clink-Clank. Snap-ouch.
IV. Honors, Degrees, and
Indian Names
Honors _
ONORS are of two kinds, individual, and group
or degree. Any brave may take both kinds, if
he wishes. The standards for the individual
honors, it will be seen, are higher.
I shall give these first. as they have been in use from the
beginning.
DECORATIONS FOR INDIVIDUAL HONORS
The decorations for the exploits are: eagle-feathers and
wampum medals. Thus, the emblems of a high honor
or grand coup would be an eagle feather with a red tuft
on the end, aud a wampum or beaded medal for the head
band or necklace.
The symbol for a low honor or coup would be a plain
eagle feather — that is without any tuft and a wampum
or beaded medal of. half-size.
Thus, it will be seen that the medals do not take the
place of the feathers, but repeat the honor in another form.
DECORATIONS FOR GROUP HONORS OR DEGREES
The decoration for the group honors or degrees, of which
there are twenty-four, set forth on pages 117-141 is an honor
band made in beads, quills, or embroidery. These honor
bands are used as arm bands or as decorations of the war
shirt.
93
94 The Book of Woodcraft
STANDARDS OF HONORS
These exploits are intended to distinguish those who are
first-class in their department, and those who are so good
that they may be considered in the record-making class.
They may be called Honors and High Honors, but the
Plains Indians speak of their exploits as Coup (pronounced
coo) and Grand Coup. The Sioux, I am informed, use
the French word coup, but call them “Justee-na coo,” and
‘“‘Tonka coo,” the ‘Little Deed,” and the “Big Deed.”
No one can count both Coup and Grand Coup, or repeat
their honor in the same department, except for heroism,
mountain climbing, and others that are specified as “‘re-
peaters,” in which each honor is added to that previously
worn.
No honors are conferred unless the exploit has been
properly witnessed or proven, as though for the Century
Bar of the L. A. W. When it is a question of time under
one minute, only stop-watches are allowed.
Honors are allowed according to the standard of the
year in which the application was made.
An honor, once fairly won, can never be lost for sub-
sequent failure to reach the standard.
Except when otherwise stated, the exploits are meant
for all ages.
Any one counting coup, according to the class above him
may count it a grand coup in his own class, unless other-
wise provided.
This list is made by the High Council of Guidance.
The exploits are founded on world-wide standards, and
with the help of the best experts. The Council will
gladly consider any suggestion, but it must be under-
stood that no local group has any power to add to or
vary the exploits in any way whatsoever.
Honors, Degrees, and Indian Names 95
Class I. Red Honors — Heroism
Honors are allowed for saving a human Jife at risk of
one’s own; it is a coup or a grand coup, at the discretion
of the Council.
A soldier’s war medals count for a grand coup each.
Courage. (The measure of courage has not yet been
discovered.)
RIDING
To ride a horse 1 mile in 3 minutes, clearing a 4-foot
hurdle and an 8-foot water jump, counts honor; to do it
in 2 minutes, clearing a 5-foot hurdle and a 12-foot water
jump, high honor.
Trick-riding. To pick up one’s hat from the ground
while at full gallop on a horse of, not less than 13 hands,
counts honor.
To do it 3 times without failure, from each side, with
horse of at least 15 hands, counts high honor.
GENERAL ATHLETICS
(Advisers — J. E. Sullivan, secretary of Amateur Athletic Union; Dr. Luther
H. Gulick of Russell Sage Foundation, New York.)
Those under 10 are children; those over 10 and under
16 are boys; those over 16 and under 18 are lads; those
over 18 are men.
Girls take the standards according to their ages up to
18, but for athletics are never over that. No matter what
their age, thenceforth they continue in the “‘lad class,”
and in filing the claim need only mention their class.
Men over 70 return to the lad class.
The records are given according to Spalding’s Almanac,
where will be found the names of those who made them,
with date and place.
A dash (—) means ‘‘not open.”
The Book of Woodcraft
96
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Honors, Degrees, and Indian Names __to1
GENERAL ATHLETICS (Continued)
ATHLETIC SPECIALTIES
(Open to those only who are over 21.)
Run 10 miles, coup. 80 m., g. coup. 7o m., Record 52 m. 382s.
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mes). grand coup in any time
Bicycle 100 milesin 24 hrs, coup
“200 +“ in 24 hrs., grand coup
(Acc. to L. A. W. rules)
Weight-throwing. ‘Throw the 56-lb. weight from a 7-ft.
circle: coup 22 ft.; grand coup 28 ft.; Rec. 38 ft. 72 in.
Dumb-bell. Pushing up one 50-lb. dumb-bell with one
hand to full arm length above the shoulder: 15 times for
coup; 30 times, grand coup; Rec. 94 times.
Ditto with roo-tb. dumb-bell: 5 times, coup; 10 times,
grand coup; Rec. 20 times.
Ditto with two 100-Ib. dumb-bells once; one in each
hand, same time grand coup.
To turn a wheel, coup.
102 The Book of Woodcraft
Handspring. To throw a tumbler or 4-legged hand-
spring, coup; to throw a clean handspring, grand coup.
Back handspring. A clean back handspring, grand coup.
WATER-SPORTS AND TRAVEL
(For swimming, rowing, etc., see classified athletics on a previous page.)
Bathing. A coup for having bathed out of doors in
water of natural temperature anywhere north of N. Lat.
30, or south of S. Lat. 30, for 300 days in the year; a
grand coup for 365 days.
Sailing. To have sailed any two-man craft for 30
successive days, 12 hours a day at the wheel — the other
man not a professional sailor — coup.
Sixty days of the same in salt water, grand coup.
Log-riding. Tread a sawlog 100 yards in any time,
without going overboard, for coup; do it 100 yards and
back in 30 minutes, for grand coup.
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120
CAMPER
(Gabeshiked)
The Degree of Camper may be conferred on those who
take 10 of these tests:
*r. Can light 15 fires in succession with 15 matches,
at different places, one, at least, on a wet day. (10 for
1 OR D2) :
2. Have put up a 2-man tent alone, ten times, for actual
service, ready for storms. (5 times for L. L.)
3. Can make the fire with rubbing-sticks of own prepa-
ration.
4. Can boil water in 10 minutes with 1 match, 1 log,
I axe; 1 quart of water in a 2-quart pail. (15 min. for
y Da ay)
*5. Have made awillow bed, or a rush mat, or an equally
good one of wild material.
6. Have made a waterproof roof of wildwood materials.
7. Have cooked 21 digestible meals with ordinary
camp outfits, for at least three persons. (12 meals for
ie)
8. Know how to make a raft.
*9. Know how to choose a camp site and how to prepare
for rain.
*ro. Know how to build a latrine (toilet).
*rr. Know how to dispose of the camp garbage and
refuse.
*r2. Have slept out 100 nights (no roof but canvas);
not necessarily consecutive nights. (50 for L. L.)
13. Have traveled 500 miles, all told, in canoe, on foot,
or in saddle, while sleeping out. (250 for L. L.)
14. Have had charge of a camp of five or more
for seven suns (one week) and kept all going in good
shape.
Honors, Degrees, and Indian Names 121
CAMP COOK
(Chabakwed)
The Degree of Camp Cook is conferred on those who take
6 of these tests:
1. Can make a good fireplace of wood, of stone, sod,
or earth.
*>. Light 15 fires with 15 successive matches, one on a
wet day. (10 fires and 10 matches for L. L.)
*2._ Cook 5 batches of good bread ina Dutch oven. (3
for L. L.)
4. Cook 5 batches of good bread without any utensils
but a hatchet. (3 for L. L.)
*>. Cook 21 digestible meals over campfire for a party
of two or more. (12 for L. L.)
*6. Boil a quart of water in a 2-quart pail in 10 minutes.
(15 for L. L. given 1 match, 1 log, 1 axe.)
7. Cook a meal consisting of baked bread, fried meat or
fish, roast meat or boiled potatoes without any utensils
or tools but a hatchet.
8. Have trained aclass in cooking; showing and making
them do it properly.
CAMP CRAFTSMAN
(Enokid)
The Degree of Camp Craftsman may be conferred on those
who take 15 out of these tests:
1. Have a knowledge of tanning and curing.
2. Can sole and heel a pair of boots, sewed or nailed,
and generally repair boots and shoes.
3. Can dress a saddle, repair traces, stirrup leathers,
etc., and know the various parts of harness.
4. Can patch a garment.
*
122 The Book of Woodcraft
5. Can make a lace or a button of a leather patch
6. Make set of 6 camp chairs and a camp table.
7. Make a waterproof vessel of birch bark.
8. Repair a broken boat or canoe.
9. Repair a tent cover so it will not leak.
10. Make an axe helve or a hoe handle.
11. Can repair a leaky kettle or pot.
12. Can solder a tin.
13. Make a basket of wildwood materials.
*r4. Make an Indian bed.
*r5. Make a grass mat.
16. Can fell a 6-inch tree in 60 seconds and drive with
it a given stake.
17. Cut down a 6-inch tree, and chop and split it into
stove wood, using axe only.
18. Cut and flat with 2 true surfaces a railway tie 8
feet long, g-inch face and 6 inches thick, using axe only.
*ig. Distinguish between rip saw, crosscut, keyhole
saw, 2-handed crosscut and show how they are used.
*20. Show the right and wrong way of putting nails
into two boards, one of which is to be fastened across
the other.
21. Make a boat or a birch canoe.
22. Build a log cabin.
CAMP DOCTOR
(Mashkikt)
The Degree of Camp Doctor is conferred on those who take
20 out of these tests:
*r. Can demonstrate the Schaefer method of resuscita-
tion.
2. Carry a person down a ladder.
3. Bandage head and ankle.
Honors, Degrees, and Indian Names = 123
*4. Demonstrate treatment of wound of the neck with
severe arterial hemorrhage.
5. Treat mangled injury of the leg without severe
hemorrhage.
6. Demonstrate treatment for rupture of varicose
veins of the leg with severe hemorrhage.
7. Show treatment for bite of finger by mad dog.
8. Demonstrate rescue of person in contact with elec-
tric wire.
9. Apply tourniquet to a principal artery.
1o. State chief difference between carbolic poisoning
and intoxication.
*t1. Pass first-aid tests of American Red Cross Society.
12. Write a statement on the care of the teeth.
13. State a principle to govern in eating, and state in
the order of their importance, five rules to govern the care
of his health.
14. Be able to tell the difference in effect of a cold and
hot bath.
*15. Describe the effect of alcohol and tobacco on the
growing boy.
16, Tell how to care for the feet on a march.
17. Describe the effect of walking as an exercise.
18. Know how to treat sprains.
19. Tell how athletics may be overdone.
*20. State what the chief causes of each of the following
diseases are: tuberculosis, typhoid, malaria.
21. Tell what should be done to a house which has been
occupied by a person who has had a contagious disease.
22. Tell how they may codperate witk the board of
health in preventing disease.
23. Describe the method used in their community in
Posing of garbage and the evil effect of flies.
*24. Know how to treat for bad sunburn.
124 The Book of Woodcraft
25. Tell how a city should protect its foods; milk, meat, —
and exposed foods.
26. ‘Tell how to plan the sanitary care of a camp.
27. State the reason why school children should under- |
go a medical examination.
28. Must know what wood herbs, etc., or camp staples —
will produce sweat, purge, vomit, or warmth; what will
make a quick poultice which will check diarrheea, etc.
*29. Know poison ivy, sumac, oak, etc., and the proper —
treatment for cases of poisoning by these.
30. Make, use, and teach others to use,the Indian Sweat —
Lodge.
31. Have taught a class in first aid.
(The Little Lodge can scarcely expect to take this.)
CANOEMAN
(Chemaunigan)
oh —
The Degree of Canoeman may be conferred on those who
take 15 of these tests:
*r. Can tie rapidly 6 different useful knots. (4in L. L.)
2. Splice ropes.
3. Can find, collect, prepare and use “‘wattap,”’ that
is spruce roots for canoe binding, etc.
4. Can find, collect, prepare and use gum for canoe
gumming.
5. Usea palm and needle.
6. Fling a rope coil.
*7. Row, pole, scull, and steer a boat; also bring a canoe
or boat properly alongside and make fast.
8. Can build a boat or built canoe.
g. Can make a paddle and paint it Indian fashion.
*to. Repair a boat or canoe.
11. Repair a birch-bark or canvas canoe.
Honors, Degrees, and Indian Names 125
12. Must know the laws of mooring, beaching, caching,
or portaging a canoe, also how to sit in it and how to change
seats with another when afloat.
*73. Can swim roo yards.
14. Can swim 50 feet with boots, pants and shirt on.
(For L. L. 25 feet.)
15. Have sailed any 2-man craft for 30 successive
days, 12 hours a day at the wheel — the other man not a
professional sailor.
*16. Have paddled (single) a canoe on dead water, 1
mile in 12 min. (15 min. L. L.)
17. Have spilled the canoe and got into her again, and
baled her without help.
18. Have taken canoe camper’s honor, that is made
a continuous canoe or rowboat trip of at least 500
miles, sleeping out every night. (100 miles for L. L.
19. Have a knowledge of weather-wisdom and tides.
20. Can state direction by the stars and sun.
21. Can steer by compass.
22. Have taught a class to handle a canoe.
FISHERMAN
(Gagoiked)
The Degree of Fisherman may be conferred on those who
take 9 of these tests:
*z. Catch and name 10 different species of fish: salmon
or trout to be taken with flies; bass, pickerel, or pike to be
caught with rod or reel, muskallonge to be caught by.
trolling. (7 for L. L.) \
2. Make a bait rod of 3 joints, straight and sound,
14 02. or less in weight, 10 feet or less in length, to stand a :
strain of 13 lbs. at the tip, 13 Ibs. at the grip. Or else
126 The Book of Woodcraft
make a jointed fly-rod 8-10 feet long, 4-8 ozs. in weight,
capable of casting a fly 60 feet.
3. Name and describe 25 different species of fish
found in North American waters, and give a complete
list of the fishes ascertained by himself to inhabit a given
body of water. (15 for L. L.)
4. Give the history of the young of any species of wild fish
from the time of hatching until the adult stage is reached.
5. Make a net and catch a fish in it.
6. Make a turtle trap and catch a turtle in it.
7. Make a 6-foot leader of clean gut, with smooth
knots to stand a strain of 5 lbs.
*8. Take with the fly, unassisted, a 3-lb. trout, land-
locked salmon, or bass, or a 12 lb. salmon, on a rod not
more than 5 oz. in weight.
g. Orelse take on a rod, without assistance in hooking,
playing, or landing a trout, black bass, pike (muscallonge),
grayling, salmon, bluefish, weakfish, striped bass, kingfish,
sheepshead, or other game fish, whose weight in pounds
equals or exceeds that of the rod in ounces.
to. Cast a fly with a rod of 5 oz. or less, not over 10
feet long, 65 feet. Or, with {-oz. dummy frog, 5-foot rod,
outdoors, overhead casting, tournament style, send it 80
feet if under 18, 110 if over.
11. Swim a hundred yards.
12. Paddle (single) a canoe 1 mile in 12 minutes. (15
for sai.)
13. Row without help 1 mile in 10 minutes. (14 for
Be)
*
FORESTER
(Mitigwakid)
The Degree of Forester may be conferred on those who take
18 of these tests:
Honors, Degrees, and Indian Names 127
*r. Can identify 25 kinds of trees when in leaf, or 15
kinds of deciduous (broad leaf) trees in winter, and tell
some of the uses of each. (15 for L. L.)
2. Identify 12 kinds of shrubs. (8 for L. L.)
3. Collect and identify samples of 30 kinds of wood and
be able to tell some of their uses and peculiar properties.
(x2 for L. L.)
4. Determine the height, and estimate the amount of
timber, approximately, in 5 trees of different sizes.
*;. Can state the laws for transplanting, grafting,
spraying, and protecting trees.
6. Make a collection of 60 species of wild flowers,
ferns, or grasses dried and mounted in a book and correctly
named. (30 for L. L.)
*7, Can recognize in the forest all important commercial
trees in his neighborhood.
8. Can distinguish the lumber from each and tell for
what purpose each is best suited.
g. Can tell the age of old blazes on trees which mark a
boundary or trail.
*to. Can recognize the difference in the forest between
good and bad logging, giving reasons why one is good and
another bad.
11. Can tell whether a tree is dying from injury by fire,
by insects, by disease or by a combination of these causes.
12. Knows what tools to use in lumbering.
*13. Knows how to fight fires in hilly or in flat country.
14. Knows the effect upon stream-flow of the destruc-
tion of forests at head waters.
15. Knows what are the 4 great uses of water in
streams.
16. Knows what causes the pollution of streams,’ and
how it can best be stopped.
17. Knows how, in general, water-power is developed.
128 The Book of Woodcraft
18. Can tell, for a given piece of farm land, whether it —
is best suited for use as a farm or forest, and why.
19. Can point out examples of erosion, and tell how to
stop it.
20. Can estimate closely how much timber and how ~
much cordwood is in a given acre of woods.
21. Name 6 trees that will float when green, and 6 that
will not.
*22. Know something of the relation of birds and quad-
rupeds to forest trees. ;
23. Can fell a 6-inch tree in 60 seconds, driving with it a
given stake. (2 min., and to fall within 2 feet of a stake, for
L. L.)
24. Have made too trees grow where none grew here-
tofore. (25 for L. L.)
25. Have camped in the woods for 30 nights.
26. Have taught a class the rudiments in forestry.
FRONTIER SCOUT
(Gimab )
The Degree of Frontier Scout may be conferred on those ~
who take 8 out of these tests:
Milk a cow.
Interpret from any language into English.
Fell a tree in a given place.
Weld an iron.
Temper a knife.
Solder a tin.
Shoot to win honors with a rifle.
Tie 6 kinds of knots.
Make a thread lashing.
Use an axe correctly.
%
lal
ee te Se ge
ra
Honors, Degrees, and Indian. Names 129
$i tortor GLEEMAN OR CAMP CONJURER
(Nagamed)
The Pearce of Gleeman is conferred on those who take 8
“°" of these tests:
*r. Can open and lead the Council.
5. Light the Sacred Fire with rubbing-sticks.
es Know the Peace Pipe Ceremony.
‘ > & Know the ceremony of giving names.
*5. Can sing many songs, including the Mudji-mukasin,
Omaha, Zonzimondi, Bark Canoe, alone or as a leader.
*6. Can dance the Caribou dance, the Scalp dance, the
Snake dance.
“7. Can tell many stories.
8. And knowthe art of ‘‘making medicine,” which is
the making of goodfellowship by seeking out talent, select-
ing and leading it and stopping without offending those who
are not helpful.
9. Know how to conduct in initiations and have the
wisdom to stop them in decent season.
to. As well as to sing the Good-night song when goot'-
sieht time has come.
Have camped out 30 nights.
12. Teach some one else to run the Council.
13. Teach a dance to a sufficient number to give it.
j
WOT
HERALD OR CRIER
(Bibaged)
The Degree of Herald is conferred on those who take 1¢
these tests:
1. Can walk 1 mile in 11 min, (15 for .L. L:)
“cc cc cc cc
2. 30 12 hrs, (Not open to L. L.}
130 The Book of Woodcraft
3. Canrun 1oo yds. in 13 sec. (14 for L. L.)
4. «mile in 53 min. (Not open to L. L.)
5 “* swim too yards.
6. Have slept out 30 nights.
7. Can send and receive a message in one of the follow-
ing systems of signaling: Semaphore, Morse, or Myer, not
fewer than 24 letters per minute. (12 letters for L. L.)
8. Make correct smoke signals meaning ‘‘Camp is
here,” ‘‘I am Lost,”’ “All well,” “‘All come to Council.”
*9. Can talk Sign Talk, knowing at least 400 signs. (200
for. 14d)
*1o. Know the 25 signs and blazes of the Indian code.
(75 for. LL.)
*rt1. Can read and translate into his own language a
page or conversation from some other language.
*r2, Can conduct a Council.
*73. Know the ordinary rules of courtesy, precedence,
introduction, salutation, etc.
14. Know the history of the National Flag and the
proper way of saluting, etc.
15. Have taught half a dozen fellows to qualify.
HORSEMAN
(Bebamomigod)
The Degree of Horseman may be conferred on those who
take 10 of these tests:
*;. Show that they are at home in a saddle and can ride
at a walk, trot, and gallop.
*2. Know how to saddle and bridle a horse correctly.
3. Can catch 6 horses in corral or on range with 12
throws of the lasso.
4. Know how to water and feed and to what amount,
and how to groom a horse properly.
Honors, Degrees, and Indian Names 1131
5. Know how to harness a horse correctly in single or
double harness and to drive.
*6. Can pack 100 lbs. of stuff with diamond hitch, to
stay during 4 hours of travel or 2 miles of trotting. (2
hours or 1 mile for L. L.)
7. Have a knowledge of the power of endurance of horses
at work and know the local regulations concerning driving.
8. Know the management and care of horses.
*9. Can identify unsoundness and blemishes.
to. Know the evils of bearing or check reins and of ill-
fitting harness or saddlery.
11. Know two common causes of, and proper remedies
for, lameness, and know to whom he should refer cases of
cruelty and abuse.
12. Are able to judge as to the weight, height, and age
of horses.
13. Know 3 breeds and their general characteristics.
14. Are able to treat a horse for colic.
15. Describe symptoms and give treatment for the fol-
lowing: wounds, fractures and sprains, exhaustion, choking,
lameness.
16. Understand horseshoeing.
*17. Can clear a 4-foot hurdle and an 8-foot water jump.
18. Pick up their hat from the ground going at full
gallop on a horse not less than 13 hands high. (11 hands
for L. L.)
HUNTER
(Gaossed.)
The Degree of Hunter may be conferred on those who take
14 of these tests:
1. Can walk 1 mile in iz minutes. (14 in L. L.)
2. reer Ber \s une hours... Not open.to L..L. )
2. * run roo yards in 13 Secs. » (15 in:L..L.)
132 The Book of Woodcraft
4. Canrun rmilein 5$ minutes. (Not opentoL.L.)
‘“* swim 100 yards.
cn
6. *“* spot the Rabbit (see Games) 3 times out of 5
at 60 yards.
Fe see and map out 6 Pleiades.
8: ** see the Pappoose on the Squaw’s back (spec-
tacles allowed if habitually worn.) (See p. 204.)
*). Have killed according to the Campfire Law (p. 106),
any one big game aniraal.
*io. Have got a good photograph of a big game animal
wild in its native surroundings.
*rr. Know and name correctly 25 native wild quad-
rupeds. (15 for L. L.)
12. Know and name correctly 50 wild birds in the field
and their nests. (30 for L. L.)
*13. Know and clearly discriminate the tracks of 25 of
our common wild quadrupeds. (15 for L. L.)
14. Can trail an animal or else iron track prints for half
a mile without aid of snow. (Snow allowed in L. L.)
15. Have won honors with rifle. That is, be a marks-
man according to the rules of the National Rifle Association.
16. With bow make a total score of 300 points at 60
yards, standard target (see p. 112). (25 points for L. L.)
*17. Have caught alive and uninjured with his own
make of trap one wild quadruped and one wild bird.
*18. Know the Pole Star and 15 star groups. (10 star
groups in L. L.)
19. Have taught any one of these but the first 9 to
some other brave.
ée
MOUNTAINEER
(W adjiwed)
The Degree of Mountaineer may be conferred on those who
take 8 of these tests:
Honors, Degrees, and Indian Names 133
*:. Take two honors at least in the list of mountain-
climbing (sce p. 103). (One in L. L.)
2. Havecamped outat least 30 nights in the mountains.
3. Know, name and describe the 14 great divisions of
the earth’s crust (according to Geikie). (Any 8 for L. L.)
*4,. Know and name 25 different kinds of rock. (10in.
=. L.)
*s. Define watershed, delta, drift, fault, glacier, terrace,
stratum, dip. (Any 5 of these in L. L.)
6. Know at least 20 mammals that live in the moun-
famss.) (Cea tot dE)
mo) **. “© co mountain birds.’ (25 in L. L.)
oe ~~ ge mountain trees. (15 in L. L.)
9. Have made a journey alone on foot through the
mountains of at least 100 miles, sleeping out every night.
(Companion and horse allowed in L. L.)
to. Can swim too yards.
PATHFINDER OR SCOUT
(Mikan)
The Degree of Pathfinder is conferred on those who take 12
of these tests:
1. Know every land bypath and short cut for a dis-
tance of at least 2 miles in every direction around your
local headquarters in the country. (1 mile in L. L.)
*>. Have a general knowledge of the district within a
5-mile radius of his local headquarters, so as to be able to
guide people at any time, by day or night. (2 miles for L.L.)
3. Know the general direction and population of the 5
principal neighboring towns and be able to give strangers
correct directions how to reach them. (3 towns in L. L.)
4. Know the country in 2-mile radius, or in a town
134 The Book of Woodcraft
must know ina $-mile radius what livery stables, garages,
and blacksmiths there are. (zx mile in L. L.)
5. Know the location of the nearest meat markets,
bakeries, groceries, and drug stores.
*6. Know where the nearest police station, hospital,
doctor, fire alarm, fire hydrant, telegraph and telephone
offices, and railroad stations are.
*7_ Know something of the history of the place, its
principal public buildings, such as town or city hall, post-
office, schools, and churches.
8. As muchas possibleof the above information should —
be entered on a large scale map.
9. Fella 6-inch tree or pole in a prescribed direction so
as to fall between two stakes 2 feet apart, within 60 seconds.
(4 feet and 2 minutes for L. L.)
10. Tie 6 kinds of knots quickly. (4 for L. L.)
11. Lash spars properly together for scaffolding.
12. Build a modern bridge or derrick.
13. Make a camp kitchen.
14. Build ashack or cabin of one kind or another suit-
able for three occupants.
15. Walk 1 mile in 11 minutes. (15 for L. L.)
*
16. Run roo yards in 13 seconds. (Not open for L. L.) —
17. Run 50 yards in 74 seconds. (Not open to L. L.) ~
18. Swim too yards.
SCOUT RUNNER
(Kee-mo-sah'-bee)
The Degree of Scout Runner is conferred on those
who take g of these tests:
*7. Can walk 1 mile in 11 minutes. (14 in L. L.)
*
(73
2. “39 milesin 12 hours. (Not open to L. L.)
Honors, Degrees, and Indian Names = 135
3. Can run 1oo yards in 13 seconds. (Not open to L.)
4. ‘ runso yards in 74 seconds (Not open to B. L.)
#, “ « 1 mile in 5} minutes. (Not open to L. L.)
*6, “ swim 100 yards.
#7. paddle a canoe 1 mile in 12 minutes. (15 in L. L.)
8. Know the Semaphore or Wigwag or Myer code and
take as well as receive a message at the rate of at least 24
letters a minute.
*9. Know 200 signs of the Sign Language. (100 in L. L.)
to. Know the 25 secret signs and blazes of the Indian
code (15 in L. L.)
*i1. Have slept out 30 nights.
12. Know and can clearly discriminate the track of 25
of our common wild quadrupeds; also trail for a mile without
snow, till near enough to photograph or bag it. (Snow
allowed in L. L.)
13. Must have carried a letter 3 times over a mile of
enemy’s country with at least 20 hostiles out against him,
of his own class.
SHARPSHOOTER
(Godaakwed)
The Degree of Sharpshooter is conferred on those who take
7 of these tests:
*r. Qualify as in “marksman” with the rifle in accord-
ance with the regulations of the National Rifle Association.
*2. Makea bow and arrow which will shoot a distance of
100 feet with fair precision.
3. Make a regulation archery target — 4 feet across,
with the 9-inch centre and 4 rings, each 43 inches wide.
4. Make a total score of 350 with 60 shots of bow and
arrow in one or two meets, using standard 4-foot target
at 40 yards or 3-foot target at 30 yards. (300 in L. L.)
136 The Book of Woodcraft
5. Make a total score of 300 with 72 arrows, using stand- —
ard 4-foot target at a distance of 50 yards, or 3-foot target _
at 36 yards. (250 for L. L.) :
6. Shoot so far and fast as to have six arrows in the air
at once. (5 in L. L.)
7. See and map out 6 Pleiades.
8. See the Pappoose on the Squaw’s back in the Dipper
Handle.
9. Spot the Rabbit 3 times at 60 yards.
STAR WISEMAN
(Gijiged)
The Degree of Star Wiseman may be conferred on those —
who take 7 of these tests: f
*1. Have a general knowledge of the nature and move- )
ments of the stars. /
*2,. Point out and name 1o principal constellations. —
(6 in L. L.) .
*3. Can find the North by means of other stars than the
Pole Star in case of that star being obscured by clouds.
4. Can tell the hour of the night by the stars and
moon.
s. Know and can name 20 of the chief stars. (15 in ©
L. L.)
6. Know, name and can point out 3 of the planets. —
(rin L. LL) J
7. Havea general knowledge of the positions and move- —
ments of the earth, sun, and moon.
8. Have a general knowedge of tides, eclipses, meteors,
comets, sun-spots, and planets.
* 9. Take the latitude from the stars with home-made
instruments, within 1 degree of error. (2 degrees in L. L.)
*to. Make a sundial that works.
Honors, Degrees, and Indian Names 137
SWIMMER
(Shingebis)
The Degree of Swimmer may be conferred on those who
take 8 of these tests:
*r. (Can swim 100 yards.
2. Swim on the back 50 feet. (25 for L. L.)
*3. Swim 50 feet with shoes and clothes on. (25 for
4. Demonstrate breast, crawl, and side stroke.
5. Dive properly from the surface of the water.
6. Can dive into from 7 to 10 feet of water and bring
from bottom to surface a loose bag of sand weighing 5
t. (4 to 7 feet and 3 ib. for L. L.)
_*7._ Demonstrate on land five methods of release from a
drowning person who clutches you.
8. Demonstrate in the water two methods of release.
9g Demonstrate the Schaefer method of resuscitation
(prone pressure).
10. Demonstrate safely crossing thin or rotten ice.
11. Have a knowledge of weather wisdom and tides.
12. Teach 3 fellows to swim. (1 for L. L.)
TRAVELER
(Bebamadisid)
The Degree of Traveler may be conferred on those who
take 11 of these tests:
1. Have walked 1 mile in 11 minutes. (14 in L. L.)
*2. Have tramped 30 miles a day. (Not open to L. L.)
3. Have climbed 1 of the standard peaks (p. 103.)
4. Knows at least 15 star groups, including the Dipper
and the Little Bear. (10 in L. L.)
138 The Book of Woodcratt
*5. Have camped out in at least 10 different States or i
countries. ‘
6. Have entered the Arctic or Antarctic circles.
7. Have crossed the Equator.
8. Can take exact latitude and longitude with instru-—
ments.
*9. Can take latitude within 2 degrees of error, witht
home-made instruments. ;
10. Have made a compass survey of 100 miles of coun- —
try.
11. Have traveled at least 100,000 miles by rail or
steamship or other means.
*12. Have traveled 500 miles on foot, by bicycle, by
canoe, or in saddle, camping out. ;
13. Know 200 signs of the Sign Language. (100 for
1EAILS) q
14. Can make himself comfortable in the woods with
only wildwood material.
15. Can swim too yards. a!
16. Have slept out 30 nights.
nt ae ee
a
VILLAGE SCOUT OR BIG VILLAGE SCOUT
‘ (Odena-winini)
The Degree of Village Scout may be conferred on those who
take 14 of these tests:
- Know how to turn in an alarm for fire.
Ti
2. Know how to enter burning buildings.
3. Know how to prevent the spread of fire.
4. Understand the use of hose; unrolling, joining up,
connecting two hydrants, use of noazlee etc. ;
5. Understand the use of escapes, ladders, and chutes. i
6. Know how to improvise ropes and nets. .
7. Know what to do in case of panic.
*
*
Honors, Degrees, and Indian Names 139
8. Understand the fireman’s lift and drag.
9. How to work in fumes.
10. Understand the use of fire-extinguishers.
11. How to rescue animals.
12. How to save property.
13. How to organize a bucket brigade.
14. How to aid the police in keeping back crowds.
15. How to ride a wheel.
*:6. Repair a puncture.
*17. Walk 4 miles in one hour.
18, Know the signs:
AN FP8 ®+t-txX =I] L
eee <— AL OI.
s 7 O
Meaning respectively: -
Official mark, fire-plug 8 feet out, please remove dust, add, subtract,
divide, multiply, equals, parallel, plumb, circle, more than, less than,
triangle, right-angle, square, because, therefore, this direction, male,
female young.
WHITE MAN’S WOODCRAFT
(Dibaakid)
The Degree of White Woodcraftsman may be conferred
on those who take 9g of the following tests:
1. Take, develop, and print photographs of 12 separate
subjects, 3 interiors, 3 portraits, 3 landscapes, and 3 in-
stantaneous “‘action photos.”
*2. Make a recognizable photograph of any wild bird
larger than a robin, while on its nest.
*3. Make a recognizable photograph of a wild animal in
its native haunts.
4. Make a recognizable photograph of a fish in the
water.
140 The Book of Woodcraft
*
5. Map correctly from the country itself the main —
features of half a mile of road, with 440 yards each side toa —
scale of 2 feet to the mile, and afterward draw same map ©
from memory.
*6. Measure the height of a tree, telegraph pole, and
church steeple without climbing.
7. Measure width of a river without crossing.
8. Estimate distance apart of two objects a known —
distance away and unapproachable, within an average of 10
per cent. of error in 1o different trials.
go. Can measure a gradient.
1o. Can estimate the speed of a stream.
11. Can tell the number of gallons of water going over a
fall or down a stream.
12. Can estimate the horsepower of a given fall.
13. Teach the last seven to some one else.
ee eee
(The Little Lodge may take three of the first six and three —
of the second — that is, six in all.)
WISE WOODMAN
(Nibwaka-winint)
The Degree of Wise Woodman may be conferred on those
who take 12 of these tests: j
*
1. Have a list of 100 different kinds of birds person- §
ally observed on exploration in the field. (50 for L. L.)
2. Have identified beyond question, by appearance or
by note, 45 different kinds of birds in one day. (25 7
L. L.)
3. Have made a good clear photograph of some wild
bird, the bird image to be over 4 inch in length on the nega-
tive. (Any size image for L. L.)
4. Have secured at least two tenants in bird boxes
erected by himself. (1 for L. L.)
Honors, Degrees, and Indian Names 141
5. Have daily notes on the nesting of a pair of wild
birds from the time the first egg is laid until the young have
left the nest. (Daily notes 20 to the month for L. L.)
6. Have attracted at least 3 kinds of birds, exclu-
sive of the English sparrow, to a ‘‘lunch counter”’ which he
has supplied. (Include English sparrow for L. L.)
*7. Have a knowledge of the game laws of the state in
which he lives.
*3. Preserve and mount the skin of a game bird, or ani-
mal, killed in season. (Preserve only for L. L.)
9. Mount for a rug the pelt of some fur animal.
*ro. Know 25 different kinds of trees. (15 for L. L.)
*ir. Know 30 different wild flowers. (20 for L. L.)
12. Know 10 different snakes. (5 for L. L.)
13. Know 10 different fungi. (5 for L. L.)
14. Know the signs of weather.
15. Make fire with the rubbing-sticks.
Winning a Name
Each brave aims at winning a name. These Indian
names are a sort of honorable nickname given in recognition
of some exploit or personal gift. Thus Deerfoot was the
great runner and Hawkeye had the sharp eyes. Killdeer
was famous in our deer hunt, as also was Deerslayer; Grey-
wolf was the best scout; Eel-scout was the one who slipped
through the enemies’ lines as often as he pleased; Little
Beaver was the best worker; Chicadee was the smallest; the
noisy chatterer, forever showing off without doing any work,
was called Bluejay; Spycatcher was given to a warrior who
captured a hostile spy by a deed of unusual daring.
On rare occasions the name was an inglorious one. Thus
a lazy boy was called ‘‘ Young-man-afraid-of-a-Shovel,”’ or
“Shovel,” for short; another was “‘Scare-cat,’’ because of his
142 The Book of Woodcraft
timidity; one small boy whose tears were ever ready to flow
was named “ Rain-in-the-Face’’; a fellow without any grit
was called the “‘Quitter,” and an awkward brave who upset
the canoe several times was called “Tippecanoe.” But
they can get rid of them as soon as they do something highly
creditable.
Naming the Brave. When the Council decides that a bad
name or annoying nickname is to be dropped, the Chief or
Medicine Man writes it on a piece of wood or bark. Then,
making a speech explaining the circumstances, he burns
the bark in the Council Fire, announcing that that name be
forgotten. No one must mention it again under pain of
punishment.
Then the brave is given his new name of honor; the
Chief makes a speech as before, telling of the exploit and
announcing the name. It is written down in the Tally;
then each Chief and Councilor comes forward, shakes hands
with the brave, saying “‘Bo-jou, Nichy”’ — followed by the
new name.
Indian Names That Have Been Won by Scouts.
As a rule, the idea — ‘‘ wonderful,” “great,” “admirable,”
or ‘‘above others”? — is understood, else the name would
not have been given.
Anoki — Actor. Bodaway — (He) makes fire.
Apenimon — Trusty. Chissakid — Juggler.
Apenindis — Self-reliant. Eesta-nax — Jack-rabbit.
Ay-no-keetch — Hunter. Eet-su-moot-si — Brave all alone.
Bebe-ji — Wild Horse. En-do-ban-uh — Scout.
Bebe-mak — Dark Horse. Etut-botsots — Strong alone.
Beedajim — (He) brings the news. Gash-wan — High Hop.
Beejee-gash — Leaping Panther. Gibodeg — Little Breeches.
Bemossed — Walker. Giganini — Man-fish.
Biminak — Slick Roper. Gimab — Spy.
Bisanabi — The SilentOne. Gimo-gash — Silent power.
Bissanajib — Rock-splitter, or Gitch-amik — Mighty beaver.
crusher. Gitchi-saka — Big Stick.
ay? 6 ae >
ay ye ee ee en
ey A ae ee ee Le Ie ee ee ee a eee Sa
ee ee ee
a
=e ey Se
Honors, Degrees,
Gwaia-koose — He walks straight.
Huya — Fighting Eagle.
Ininaja — (He) was sent.
Ishka-kid — Fire-juggler.
Ishkotekay — (He) makes fire.
Tss-see-kas — Top of the Mountain.
Jangened — Hostile.
Jibendam — Stay with it.
a-ba-to — Runner.
Ka-gi-git — Speak not. ;
Kah-no-see-tuk — Pine Tree.
Kak-i-no-sit — The tall one.
Karonawa — Famous Runner.
Kawin-jag — Fears not.
Kee-mo Sah-bee — Trusty Scout.
Kee-shee Ka-ba-too — Quick
Runner.
Kijika — (I) walk quickly.
Kin-a-pik — Snake. Se
Kinji-gisiss — Shining face.
Manij-wa — Scalper.
Mash-kiki — Doctor.
Me-et-ees — Lone tree.
Mingan — Grey-wolf;
“Peerless Scout.”
that is,
Minikwa or Nita-anoki — Tumbler.
Minobi — (I) am gay.
Minoday — Well cooked.
Minoway — Moving Voice
Misatik — Big Stick.
Mishe-gash — Mighty Jumper
Mit-te-gwab — Bow.
Mojag — Never Quit.
Neetah Wass-wa — Good Spearman.
Nibaw —I stand up.
Nibenab or Nibab — Sits up all
night.
Nibe-jomini — Camp of Creepers.
and Indian Names ‘1143
Nita-bimossed — Good Walker.
Nodin — Wind.
Nokidee — Soft Heart.
Nokisan — Wonder Cook.
Odagoma — Iron Nerve.
Okemahgansis — A Little Chief.
Oma-gash — Bounding Buck.
On-jima — Strong Hand.
Ooita-eish — Little Iron.
Osh-ki-de — New Spirit within.
Pajigwad — Stick to it.
Pangi-Wendigo — Little Giant.
Panossim — Water-dog or Sea-dog.
Paw-pung-is — Jumping-jack.
Pe-hask-a — Yellow Hair.
Pee-mah-ta-ha-che-gay — Trailer.
Mee-mah-te-gay — Swimmer.
Pis-chig-ay — Spear.
Sakawa — (He) makes fire.
Sheboygo — Writer.
Shee-mah-gan — Spear.
Shingebis — Diver.
Shunka-reela — Swift or Flying Fox.
So-kit-tay — Strongheart.
Songan — Strong.
So-tee-ay-mo — Brave.
Tchi-bak-we — Medicine Cook.
Wabang — To-morrow.
Wa-bee-no-sa — Walks all night.
Wadjepi — Nimble.
Wah-bit — Keen Eyes.
Wah-da-ga — Swimmer.
Wah-peh-soos — He jumps like a
deer.
Wapoos — Rabbit
Wass-wa — Spearman, or Big
Spearman.
Wee-wees — Little Owl.
English Names that Have Been Given
Arrowfoot
Bald Eagle.
Black Hawk,
Big Moose.
Big Otter.
Deerblinder.
Deerslayer.
Eagle-eye.
Eel-scout.
Hawk-eye.
High-hop.
Hoot-owl.
Jack-rabbit.
Jumping-jack.
rag.
Leaping Panther.
Little Thunder.
Many-tongues.
144 The Book of Woodcraft
Mustang.
Never-scare.
Night-owl.
Plenty-coups.
Red Arrow.
Redjacket.
Spy-catcher.
Sheet-lightning.
Spear-deep.
Strongbow.
Strongheart.
Twinklefoot
White Thunderbolt.
Wing-foot.
Wolverine.
Indian Names Given in Ridicule,
Ashki — Raw, fresh, new.
Bakedon — Quitter.
Gitchee-mukasin — Big shoes.
Kittimi — Lazy.
Kiwanis — A foolish noise.
Mah-ka-ahuh — Plenty of whoop.
Mangidon — Big mouth, or All
mouth.
Mewishkid — Cry-baby.
Nagatew — Quitter.
Onawama — Cheek
Swangideed — An audacious person;
the nervy one.
Takiside — Cold feet.
Wissa-nodin — Hot air.
English Names that Have Been Given in Ridicule, ©
Blue-jay — (Much talk; no work.)
Chicken-heart.
Chilly-feet.
Funny-face.
Quitter.
Rain-in-the-face — (His tears came
easily.)
Scare-cat.
Tippecanoe — (He upset the boat.)
Names Given to Women
Agokay —I stick to it
Anang — Star.
Anangons — Little Star.
Anohom — Singer.
Awashonks, The Woman Chief of
Seconsit, R. I 1671.
Bimodon — A Grumbler.
Gash-kit-on — I am a Winner
Gijig — Sky
Gamowini — Sweet Singer.
Kis-ke-mas — Waving Grass.
Mijakwad — Skyblue.
Minoway — Magic Voice.
Mokatewis — Sunburnt.
Namid-Anang — Star Dancer.
Namid — Dancer.
Nijanang —- Twin Stars.
Niji-Namid — Star Dancer. _
Ogin — Rose.
{
O-jistoh — A Star.
Osawi— Yellow.
Osawindibé — Yellow Hair.
Pagwadgi — Wild thing.
Pingosh — Stinger.
Puppinshaas — Bird.
Satinka — Magic Dancer.
Uppishau — Flower.
Wabigoon — White Flower.
Wabisi — White Swan.
Wap-o — Sunbeam (happiness).
Wap-o-me-o — Happy Bird.
Wetamoo, the beautiful Woman ~
Sachem of the Wampanoags ~
1662. :
Winne-taska — Pleasant Laughter-
Wohsum-Naab — Shining Eyes.
Wohsumoe — Shining.
V. Woodland Songs, Dances,
and Ceremonies
THE OMAHA TRIBAL PRAYER.
Harmonized by Pror. J. C. FILLMore.
Slow. Grave. Solemn.
7) meme aA A sf a A
i EE SS 7 EE a =
| fae AN = =
cf ees EES os
eee —_—-_ =.
Wa-kon-da dhe - dhu Wa-padhin a - ton-he
a a a
: ee ae C2 2 AES
fen (ERE © © LE Saas ae
| |.” Dy San Rn a -~ e
v ESET EET aS a TART ET
Con Ped. *
Wa-kon-da dhe-dhu Wa-pa-dhin a - ton-he.
~~
(By permission from Alice C. Fletcher’s “‘ Indian Story
and Song.’’)
Translation:
Father a needy one stands before thee;
I that sing am he.
145
146 The Book of Woodcraft
SITTING BULL’S WAR SONG—Indian Words
(By permission from E. S. Curtis’ North American Indians, Vol. III, p. 149)
Moderato.
a
ae
Ma-ka Si-to- mi-ni...... i Chaz he - mayoaseeneee
——_ >
Se a a !
(== eS SS
to- pe - lo Bé - li hé-i-chey awaon-jel - o. .
SS
iW aa ;
ka... Si: tos. mi = ni;) Ma - kas) Si pten =m
MblGiG blab SloiGict Be-li-chey a - \- wa-on ye - Jo
$2 SS St SSS SS
Beli y-)chei.. s .cheynswaaompo: Bél.: -ichy-vemean :
SITTING BULL’S WAR SONG—English Words
eee
es 2
Earth wide is my fame,...... They are shouting my name;.
Sing holithevea |= iplel soul... Who follows Sitting Bull.
The Book of Woodcraft 147
THE GHOST DANCE SONG
(From Prof. Jas. Mooney’s “‘The Ghost Dance Religion,”
i4th. Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn. p. 977.)
ANI’QU NE'CHAWU'NANI’
Moderato. —
=. =—
+ ni’-qu né’-cha - - pi’-qu ne’-cha - wu’ - na- ni’;
&- wa’-wa Tee ‘qi na’- ka- ye! - na, + Wa’-wa seas -qi- na’ - is + ye’-na;
pests sis een
fi-ya - buh ofl’ thi’ ti, - hwh ni’. bi -. thi’ -
Ani’qu ne’chawu’‘nani’,
Ani’qu ne‘chawn’nani’;
Awa’wa biqina’‘kaye'na,
Awa’wa biqina‘kaye’na;
Iyahu‘h ni’bithi’ti,
Tyahu’h ni’bithi'ti.
Translation
Father, have pity on me,
Father, have pity on me;
I am crying for thirst,
I am crying for thirst;
All is gone—I have nothing to eat,
All is gone—I have nothing to eat,
This is the most pathetic of the Ghost-dance songs. It is sung to
a plaintive tune, sometimes with tears rolling down the cheeks of the
dancers as the words would bring up thoughts of their present miser-
able and dependent condition. It may be considered the Indian para-
phrase of the Lord’s prayer.
Also translated:
Father have pity on me,
My soul is ever hungry for thee;
I am weeping,
There is nothing here to satisfy me.
148 The Book of Woodcraft
THE PEACE PIPE CEREMONY
The Medicine Man, standing in front of the ready-
laid fire, opens Council thus: ‘‘Neetah Kola nayhoon-po
omnicheeyay nee-chopt — Hear me, my friends, we are about |
to hold a council. 4
“‘Now light we the Council Fire after the manner of the —
Forest children, not in the way of the white man, but — —
even as Wakonda himself doth light his fire — by the rub-
bing together of two trees in the storm-wind, so cometh ~
forth the sacred fire from the wood of the forest.” ;
(He uses the drill; the smoke comes, the flame bursts —
forth.) “Now ee we that Wakonda, whose dwelling is
}
|
above the Thunder-bird, whose messenger is the Thunder- —
bird, hath been pleased to smile on his children, hath sent —
down the sacred fire. By this we know he will be present —
at our Council, that his wisdom will be with us. 4
“This is a Council of Peace, so light we first the Pipe of
Peace.’ I
(Kneeling at the fire he lights the pipe. As soon as it is —
going, he lifts the pipe grasped in both hands, with the stem ‘
toward the sky, saying):
To Wakonda; that his wisdom be with us. Hay-oon-—
kee-ya. Noon-way.
(All answer): Noon-way. (Amen, or this is our
prayer.) ;
To Maka Ina, Mother Earth, that she send us food, i
oon-kee-ya. Noon-way. ;
(All answer): Noon-way.
To Weeyo-peata, the Sunset Wind, that he come voll
in his strength upon us. Hay-oon-kee-oon-ee-ya-snee. Noon-
way. (Then blows smoke and holds the stem to the {
west.)
(Allanswer): Noon-way.
See ee See San
——
ee
Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 149
To Wazi-yata, the Winter Wind, that he harm us not
with his cold, Hay-oon-kee-oon-ee-ya-snee. Noon-way. (Pipe
as before.)
(All answer): Noon-way.
To Weeyo-hinyan-pata, the Sunrise Wind, that he
trouble us not with his rain. Hay-oon-kee oon-ee-ya-
snee. Noon-way. (Pipe as before.)
(All answer): Noon-way.
To Okaga, the Hot Wind, that he strike us not with his
fierce heat, Hay-oon-kee-oon-ee-ya-snee. Noon-way. (Pipe
as before.)
(All answer): Noon-way.
Then the Medicine Man stands holding the pipe in one
hand and proclaims aloud: ‘‘Now with the Blessing of
Wakonda and respite from the Tah-tee-yay To-pa, we
may deal with business of gravest import, doubting nothing,
for wisdom from above is with us.”
THE SCALP DANCE
If the assemblage is mixed, each brave selects a squaw
for this, ten to thirty couples taking part; otherwise, twenty
braves can do it. They come out of the woods in proces-
sion, form a circle about the fire; standing with both hands
raised they look upward and sing the Omaha Tribal
Prayer (see page 145). They sit in a large circle,
alternately brave and squaw. Each squaw has a club by
her side.
Squaws begin to sing the Coona song (Cahuilla Bird
Dance Song) (next page) or Omaha Love Song (p. 50,
Fletcher), guided by Medicine Man and drum.
150 The Book of Woodcraft
BIRD DANCE SONG.
CAHUILLA TRIBE.
Harmonized by
“Recorded by
CHAS.F. LUMMIS. ARTHUR FARWELL.
Moderately, with motion. d = 128.
; a a>
0 = na loo = na lo co li-u,
tow and tremulous, flutelike and in obvious imitation of low weird bird tones.
a —
a > ————
= SS ee a ee a Se Ss ee ee
=I om pak ~ [ee Se —
lé-a wi dem-a - i-qua toqua-i - ca
; Byllabio division not ctearty marked.
A mere quaver of the voice,not a distinet triplet. ;
4 like ra Copyright, 1905, by The Wa Wan Press International Copyright Secured.
At length the song stops. Squaws begin nudging the t
braves and pointing forward. New music by the Medicine :
Man begins. The Zonzimondi, The Mujje Mukesin* or
er aE
“a
aw - yaw - yon
muj-je muk-e-sin aw-yaw- yon myj- je muk-e- sin
other dance song. The braves jump up, dance around
once, with heads high in air, almost held backward and
not crouching at all. (They carry no clubs yet.)
SD GSTS
=
* This Moccasin Song is from Fre’ R. Burton’s American “ Primitive
Music,” 1909.
There are many fine airs and di nces in Alice C. Fletcher’s “Indian Story q
and Song,” Small, Maynard & Co., 1900 ~— ($1.00.)
iE nee
Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies ict
After going once around, each is back again near his
squaw, and she holds out to him the war club and utters
the little squaw yelp. Each brave takes his club, and now
begins the crouch dance. Going three times around, and
each time crouching lower while the squaws stand or sit
in a circle, arms down tight to side, but bodies swaying in
time to music. In the fourth round all are crouching
very low and moving sideways, facing inward.
The music suddenly changes, and all do the slow sneak
toward the centre with much pantomime. The squaws
watch eagerly and silently, leaning forward, shading their
eyes with one hand. All the braves strike the fire
together, utter the loud war whoop, and stand for a
moment with hands and weapons raised high, then, in
time to the fast drum, dance quickly erect with high steps
and high heads to the squaws who utter the squaw yelp
for welcome, and all sit down as before.
The squaws begin the singing again, repeat the whole
scene, but this time the chief falls when the block is struck,
and is left lying there when the other braves retire.
His squaw stands up, and says: ‘“‘ Mee-heheenna tuk-tay-
ay-hay natang ee-tang-chang-keeng.” (‘‘ Where is my chief,
he who led you to battle?’’)
All look and whisper; his wife gets up to seek. Soon
she finds him, and flinging herself on his breast with
clasped hands, breaks forth in the lament for the dead,
which is a high-pitched, quavering wail. The warriors
lift him up and slowly carry him off the scene, out of sight,
followed by the squaws, who, with heads bent, sing:
Teo The Book of Woodcraft
THE LAMENT
Our chief our war-rior true is
lost to all to me and you to me and you to
A ——_ [fn po
9 i, = ee = er
(22S 3 SS SS 2 SS SEs SS SS =
me and you Dire fall our ven-geance due on
those who slew our war-rior true Our war-rior true Our war-rior true
Music from F. R. Burton’s American Primitive Music, by permission.
Repeat it many times; as they disappear, the music dies
away, fainter and fainter.
If no girls take part, let the braves enter in procession,
singing, and carry their clubs throughout, and at the end
one of them made up like an Indian woman goes out and
finds the dead chief.
THE CARIBOU DANCE
The easiest of our campfire dances to learn, and the
best for quick presentation, is the Caribou Dance. I have
put it on for public performance, after twenty minutes’ re-
hearsing, with fellows who never saw it before; and it does
equally well for indoor gymnasium or for campfire in the
woods.
Se a
Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 153
In the way of fixings for this, you need four pairs of horns
and four tails. I have seen real deer horns used, but they
are scarce and heavy. It is better to go out where you can
get a few crooked limbs of oak, cedar, hickory, or apple
tree; and cut eight pair, as near like a, b, c, in the cut as pos-
sible, each about two feet long and one inch thick at the
butt. Peel these; point the square ends of the branches,
then lash them in pairs, thus (d). A pair, of course,
is needed for each caribou. These are held in the hand
and above the head, or in the hand resting on the head.
The tails are made each out of one third of a flat barrel
hoop of wood. At one end of the hoop make four holes in
pairs, an inch apart; thus (seefincut). These are for cords
that pass over the wearer’s belt and through the hoop.
154 he Book of Woodcraft
The hoop is then wrapped with white muslin and finished
with a tuft of white muslin strips on the end. The tail
finished, looks (g), and is stuck inside the wearer’s belt,
which goes through the two cord loops. (#,) shows a way
of fastening on the tail with cord only.
The four caribou are best in white. Three or four
hunters are needed. They should have bows but no ar-
rows. The Medicine Man should have a drum and be able
to sing the Mujje Mukesin, as given, or other Indian dance
tune. One or two fellows who can howl like wolves should
be sent off to one side, and another that can yell like a lynx
ora panther on the other side, well away from the ring.
Now we are ready for
THE DANCE OF THE WHITE CARIBOU
The Medicine Man begins by giving three thumps on his
drum to call attention; then says in a loud, singing voice:
“The Caribou have not come on our hunting grounds for
three snows. We need meat. Thus only can we bring
them back, by the big medicine of the Caribou Dance, by
the power of the White Caribou.”
He rolls his drum, then in turn faces each of the Winds,
beckoning, remonstrating and calling them by name.
Kitchi-nodin (West); Keeway-din, (North); Wabani-
nodin (East); Shawani-nodin (South). Calling last to the
quarter whence the caribou are to come, finishing the call
with a long Ko — Kee— Na. Then as he thumps a slow
single beat the white caribou come in at a stately pace
timed to the drum. Their heads are high, and they hold
the horns on their heads, with one hand, as they proudly
march around. After going round once in a sun circle
(same way as the sun), they goeach toacorner. The drum
stops; all four approach to salute the great mystery in the
i
Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies rss
middle, the fire. They bow to it together, heads low, tails
high, uttering a long bellow.
Then they circle once, close to the fire; stop on opposite
sides of it, facing outward; march each to a corner or com-
pass point; and then bow or honor that wind, bellowing
long.
Now the Medicine Man begins any good dance song and
beats double time. The caribou dance around once in a
circle. The music stops. The first and second, and third
and fourth, close in combat. They lower their heads, lock
horns held safely away from the head, lash tails, snort, kick
up the dust, and dance around each other two or three times.
The music begins again, and they circle once.
The music stops. Now the first and fourth and second
and third lock horns and fight.
After a round or so, the music begins again and they
circle, dancing as before.
Now the howling of wolves is heard in the distance, from
the fellows already posted.
The caribou rush toward that side and face it in a row,
threatening, with horns low, as they snort, stamp, and kick
up the dust.
The wolf-howling ceases. The caribou are victorious.
They turn away and circle once to the music, holding their
heads high.
The wolf-howling, panther-yelling (or other menacing
sound) is now heard in the other direction.
Again the caribou line up and defy it. When it ceases,
they dance proudly around, heads up, chests out as they
step, for they have conquered every foe.
But a band of hunters appears, crawling flat on their
breasts and carrying bows. They crawl half around the
ring, each telling those behind by signs, ‘‘Here they are;
we have found them.” ‘‘Four big fellows.” ‘Come on,”’
156 The Book of Woodcraft
etc. When they come opposite the caribou, the first
hunter lets off a short ‘“‘yelp.” The caribou spring to the
opposite side of the ring, and then line up to defy this new
noise; but do not understand it, so gaze in fear. The
hunters draw their bows together, and make as though each
let fly an arrow, then slap their hands to make a loud
‘“‘crack.”’ The first caribou drops, the others turn in fear
and run around about half of the ring, heads low, and not
dancing; then they dash for the timber. The hunters run
forward with yells. The leader holds up the horns. All
dance and yell around the fallen caribou and then drag it
off the scene.
The Medicine Man says: ‘‘Behold, it never fails; the
Caribou dance brings the Caribou. It is great medicine.
Now there is meat in the lodge.”
For a large ring, the number of caribou might be doubled,
and variations introduced whenever we find some one who
can make good imitation of any animal or bird.
THE DOG DANCE
This is a Shoshoni celebration.* A procession is formed.
The leader carries a bucket, a stool, or a basket upside
down, for a low stand. The next one carries a dog’s skull,
or something like one. We have used a loaf of bread, pro-
vided with eyes and teeth, or a big puff ball. The next has
a dish or a flat Indian basket or tray. The next two or
three have feathers, and the rest have crackers or candies.
The last is fixed up with a dog’s mask and tail and runs on
all-fours.
The procession comes in dancing and barking to a little
dance tune. Goes once around.
* For this I am chiefly indebted to Hamlin Garland.
Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 157
Then the leader puts down the stand. The skull is set
on it, and the tray on the ground before. The rest sit in a
half circle in front.
_ The leader then kneels down and addresses the skull
thus: ‘‘Dog! In the days of our fathers you were the one
who dragged the lodge poles from camp tocamp. Without
you, we could have had no comfortable place in which tg
sleep. So I will dance and sing in your honor to-night.”'
He puts a feather in the dog’s head, then dances his best
dance, while the rest sing, ‘‘Yap-yap, Yap-yap, Yap-yap,
Yow-w-w-o”’ in imitation of a dog barking on a rising scale,
finishing with a long howl.
The leader has now danced to the other end of the half-
circle and sits down.
‘The next comes and addresses the skull: ‘‘Dog! In
times of war you were the one who guarded the camp at
night. No one could surprise us when you were on watch.
Nothing could make you betray us. So I will dance and
sing in your honor to-night!”’
He adds a feather and dances his best, while the rest
“Yap” the dog chorus. Then he sits at the opposite end
of the circle.
The next comes and says, perhaps ‘‘Dog! In the days
of our fathers, you were the one who could follow the
wounded deer. You made the hunting a success. So I
will dance and sing in your honor to-night.” He adds a
feather or a candy, and dances. (Yap, yap, as before.)
The next says: “Dog! When I was a little pappoose, I
wandered from the village and fell in the river. No one
saw me. I should have been drowned, but you jumped in
and pulled me out. So I will dance and sing in your honor
to-night.”” He adds his contribution and dances.
The next says, ““Dog! You were the one who cleaned
up the camp, so we were not troubled with flies.”
158 The Book of Woodcraft
Others thank the dog for finding the lost children, for
giving alarm when an enemy approached, for killing a
rattler, for finding the lost medicine bag, etc.
Then the last one, the boy dog, comes up and barks at
the head.
Finally, the leader resumes, saying: “‘Yes, Dog! You
were the one that dragged the lodge poles. You were the
one that found the wounded deer, etc. And best of all,
first, last, and all the time, you were our faithful friend,
and all you asked in return was a bite to eat and a place to
lie down. And so long as the blue sky is above the green
grass you will be the friend of the prairie children. Then,
when at last we cross over the great river, and see behind
the Divide, we hope we shall find awaiting us our old friend,
the Dog that we may take up our friendship again, and
continue on and on in the good country where no white
man or smallpox ever comes.”
Then they pass around the dish and eat the crackers and
candies; offering things to the dog, and honoring him as
much as possible with a variety of stage “business.”
Finally, all go off, carrying the various things and barking
as they came.
OJIBWA SNAKE DANCE
Select a good dancer for leader. All form line, holding
hands, carefully graded so the least is last. Then dancing
in step to the music, they set out in a line, follow-my-leader
style, doubling the line on itself, and evoluting around the
fire. Sometimes the dancers face alternately — that is, all
the even numbers in the line look one way and the odd
another.
A good finish is to curl in a tight spiral around the head,
when the tail boy mounts on the back of the one before him
and shakes a rattle, like a rattler rattling on its coil.
Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 159
THE HUNTING OF MISHI-MOKWA THE BIG BEAR
Any number of hunters up to twenty can take part in
this game. Each one is armed with a war club. This is
made of straw tied around two or three willow switches, and
tightly sewn up in burlap. It should be about three feet
long, one inch thick at the handle, and three or four inches
through at the top.
Each hunter must make a wooden claw two inches long
(see Cut*) anda wooden bead three quarters of an inch long.
The bead is usually a piece of elder with the pith pushed
out. The claw is painted black toward the base. The
tip is left the natural color of the wood. The bead is
painted red. These beads and claws are strung alternately
to form a necklace. There should be twenty in each.
Finally, a toy balloon is blown up tight and put in a
small bag; this is the bear’s heart.
Now select a bear. Take the biggest, if several offer.
He may be made realistic with wool or fur. Put the neck-
lace on him; strap the bag on his back; then give him a
club, also three dens or mountains about one hundred
yards apart.
First, the Big Bear comes in and addresses the audience:
“IT am fearless Mishi-Mokwa,
I, the mighty Mountain Grizzly,
King of all the Western prairies.
When the roving bands of Indians
Come into my own dominion
I will slay as I have slain them.
They shall not invade my country.
I despise those puny creatures.”
Then he stalks off to his den.
“For cuts and details, see p. 287 among the games
160 The Book of Woodcraft
Now the hunters come in, and, facing the audience, the
leader says:
“T am Chief of the Ojibwa,
These are all my chosen warriors.
We go hunting Mishi-Mokwa,
He the Big Bear of the mountains;
He that ravages our borders.
We will surely seek and slay him;
Or, if we should fall before him,
We will die like men of valor,
Dying, winning deathless glory.”
Or, as an alternative prose reading, he says:
“Tam Chief of the Black Hawk Band. These are my chosen
warriors; the pick of my tribe. We go to hunt the Mishi-
Mokwa, the Big Bear of the mountains. He is big and terrible.
He kills our people every day. Many of us may die in the fight,
but living or dead, we shall win glory. Now we dance the
war dance.”
All give the war whoop and dance, imitating a bear on
his hind legs. At intervals, when the music changes, every
other one strikes his neighbor on the back with his club,
at which he turns and growls horribly.
Chief: ‘‘Now we go to seek the foe.”
They set out, looking for the trail. They find it and
follow, studying the ground, smelling it, peeking and
pointing here and there till they get pretty close to the
Big Bear, whereupon he rouses up with a growl. The war-
riors spring back, but, encouraged by the Chief, they form
a circle and approach the bear. The Chief shouts:
“Ho, Mishi-Mokwa, we have found you. Come forth now,
for I mean to club your head, and take that necklace for my own
neck. Come forth now. You are very brave when you find an
Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 161
old squaw picking berries, but you do not like the looks of this
band. If you do not come before I count a hundred, I shall
_ brand you a coward wherever I go.”’
(As alternative reading, a verse):
““Mishi-Mokwa, we have found you,
Come you forth and try our mettle.
For I mean to club and brain you;
Mean to take that magic necklace;
Wear it for my own adorning.
What! you dare not, valiant creature!
You are absolutely fearless
When you find a lot of children
With their baskets, picking berries,
But you do not like our war clubs;
Noble creature, dauntless Grizzly!”
The bear springs forth, growling. He uses his club freely,
trying to knock the hunters’ hats off. Once a hat is off,
the owner is dead and must drop beside it.
The bear makes for his second mountain or den, and he
is safe as long as he is in, or touching, a den. But again
the hunters force him to come out, by taunts and by count-
ing. He must continue to go the rounds of his three dens
till either the bear or all the hunters are killed.
One good blow on the bear’s heart breaks it with a loud
“bang.” Then the bear must fall; he is dead. The war-
rior who dealt the fatal blow, no matter who, now becomes
_ the leader, the others join in with war whoops. He takes
the necklace from the bear’s neck. Then, standing with
one foot on the bear, he brandishes his club, shouting,
“Ha, ha, how, now, Mishi-Mokwa! Yesterday you did
not know me. Now you know me; know my war club.
I am none but Hiawatha.”
The surviving hunters drag the bear before the grand-
162 The Book of Woodcraft
stand. The Medicine Man or Woman shouts, ‘‘ Welcome,
mighty Hiawatha, you have killed the Mishi-Mokwa.”
Hiawatha replies:
“Ves, we’ve killed the Mishi-Mokwa,
But my band is now a remnant.
On the hillsides, in the valleys,
Many fighting men are lying.
Many of my chosen warriors,
Killed by fearful Mishi-Mokwa.”
(Medicine Man): ‘What! is it true?”
(All answer): ‘Yes; Gray Wolf is dead; Whooping
Crane,”’ and so on.
(Medicine Man):
“Here bring me earth and fire and water,
Bring me wood and plume of eagle,
Bring me hair of Mishi-Mokwa.”
(All run to get these things.)
The Medicine Man makes a fire, throws in the things, and
as the smoke goes up, he blows it with his robe to the
four quarters of the heavens, saying:
“Hear me, Oh, ye four wind spirits,
Though these warriors’ souls have left us,
Ye who have them in your keeping,
Bring them back into their bodies.
I command you by the magic
Of the med’cine I have made me
Of the scalp of Mishi-Mokwa,
Hear me, Oh, ye stricken warriors.”
(They all stir a little.)
“Hear! Though dead, you all must hear me.”
Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 163
(They stir again.)
“Hear me! Ho!”
(They all jump up and join the circle amid cheers and
greetings from the others.)
(The Medicine Man now says):
“Honor be to Hiawatha,
He hath saved his loving people. .
On his neck we place the necklace
Of the bear claws and the wampum.
So the tribes shall still remember
He it was killed Mishi-Mokwa.”
All join in a war-dance to drum, around the body of the
bear.
If, on the other hand, all the hunters are killed by the
bear, he comes forward and hands the necklace to the
Medicine Man, saying:
“T’m the mighty Mountain Grizzly;
Dead are those who sought to slay me.
Mortal man cannot subdue me,
But I bow me to your magic.”
The Medicine Man takes the necklace, holds it up, and
replies:
““Mishi-Mokwa of the mountains,
You are chief of all the mighty,
Keep the sacred wampum necklace,
You have won it, wear it, keep it.”
(He puts it on the bear’s neck.)
“You have won a name of glory,
Henceforth all the tribes shall tremble
At the name of Mishi-Mokwa.
164 The Book of Woodcraft
But a truce I now command you:
Manitou, whose children all are,
Made the land for all his children;
There is room for Bear and Hunters.
Rise up, Brethren, greet your Brother,
Valor always honors valor.”
(All jump up now, cheering. They dance around the
bear, shaking his paw, and grunting, ‘‘How, how, how.”’)
The winner, whether bear or chief, keeps the necklace as
his own, and may have the title if he desires it; in one case,
of Mishi-Mokwa, in the other of Hiawatha, Bear-killer, or —
Grizzly-chief. |
INDIAN SONG BOOKS
Alice Fletcher’s ‘Indian Song and Story.” (Small &
Maynard) $1.00.
F. R. Burton’s ‘‘American Primitive Music.” (Moffat,
Yard, & Co.) $5.00.
Natalie Curtis. ‘The Indians’ Book” (Harper & Bros.)
$7.50.
Frances Densmore. “Chippewa Music” (Smithsonian
Institution).
THE WEASEL IN THE WOOD
This is a French song game. Somewhat like our “But- —
ton, Button,” or the Indian Moccasin Game. The players
sit in a circle with hands on a cord which goes all around.
On the cord is a ring, which is passed secretly from one to
another as they sing the song on next page. Each time
the singing ends, the one in the middle has to guess who
holds the ring. If he fails he pays a forfeit., If he wins
the loser takes his place.
Songs, Dances, and Ceremonies 165
LE FURET
Il court, il court le fu -ret du bois mes-da- mes,
ai, ‘court, il court’ le fu-ret du bois jo - li;
Se = [SS
a pas-sé par i - ci le fu-ret du bois mes-da-mes,
8:
-o- -o-
Il a pas-sé par i-ci le fu-ret du bois jo- li.
(English Substitute)
He runs, he runs, the wea-sel in the wood,my boys,
He runs, he runs, the wea- sel in.... the wood;
He has pass’d by here,he’s pass’d, you'd catch him if you could, my boys,
8:
SS a Se es
|‘ SSeS SS Sa SSS Sa
He has pass’d by here,he’s pass’d,you’d catchhim if you could.
166 The Book of Woodcraft
ROUSER OR REVEILLE
Ho, sleepers, a- rise! the sun’s in the skies, The summer mist
os . td eo
flies from the lake and the lea. The Red Godsdo call: Ho,
high, Hi-kers all, Come drink of the Life-cup you nev-er will see.
Sa =
Then blow ye winds high, or blow ye winds low, Or blow, ye wet
a
east wind o - ver the sea. We'll face ye and fight, and
Yo ho! a-rise, a-rise! A-rise, a-rise, yo ho - ol
VI. Suggested Programs
A Monthly Series
January, the Snow Moon
OvuTpDooRs:
Tracks in the snow.
Gather mosses in the woods for home study.
Take a bird census.
Look for cocoons and dormant insects.
Dig out borers in dead timber for home study.
INDOORS:
Make a target.
Make a warbonnet.
Study Sign Language, picture-writing, wig-wag;
knots, splices.
Learn compass signs.
Qualify in first aid.
February, the Hunger Moon
OvutTpoors:
Snowshoeing and skiing.
Look for rock tripe; roast and boil it as emer-
gency food.
Go to every aspen and study the cause of the scars
on its trunk; each one is full of history.
Cut lodge poles.
Play the game ‘‘Watching by the Trail.”
167
168 The Book of Woodcraft
INDOORS:
Make a war shirt of sheepskins and beads.
Make Indian furniture.
Study signaling by semaphore, Myer, Morse, etc.
Also by blazes, stone signs, grass signs, smoke fires.
Hand wrestling.
March, the Wakening Moon
OuTpDooRsS:
Cut the rods for a willow bed.
Cut wood for bow and arrows.
Study geology.
Take a new bird census.
Get up an animal scouting for points.
Make a quiver of canvas or leather.
INDOORS:
Make willow bed and other woodland equipment.
Make bird boxes to sell.
Make rustic furniture.
Make a wooden buffalo skull.
April, the Green Grass Moon
OUTDOORS:
Note spring birds’ arrivals.
Collect spring flowers.
Note early butterflies.
Do your half-mile track work with irons.
Make your four-mile walk for the degree of Mini-
sino.
INDOORS:
One-legged chicken fights.
Make tracking irons.
Make tilting spears for tub work, on land or
for water.
Carve souvenir spoons.
Suggested Programs 169
May, the Planting Moon
OvuTDOORs:
Make collection of wild flowers.
Take first over-night hikes.
Nature compass signs.
Begin sleeping out your hundred nights.
INDOORS:
Make a dummy deer for the deer hunt.
Make straw clubs for bear hunt.
Work on willow or Indian bed.
June, the Rose Moon
OUTDOORS:
Fishing, swimming, Indian signs.
Practise judging distances.
Learn ten trees.
INDOORS:
Initiate new Indian boys.
Study camp hygiene.
Make a Navaho loom and use it;
| July, the Thunder Moon
OvuTDOORS:
Camping, canoeing, or hiking.
Play scout messenger.
Make a sweat lodge.
UNDERCOVER:
Make camp mattress of grass.
Learn the history of Tecumseh and Dull Knife.
Practise camp cooking.
Boil water against time, given only one match,
a log, a pail, and a quart of water.
170 The Book of Woodcraft
August, the Red Moon
OUTDOORS:
Camping, canoeing, or hiking.
Water sports.
Medley scouting in camp, each in turn being
called on to dance, sing, tell a story, produce
the leaf of a given tree, imitate some animal,
‘or do the four-medley race namely, row a
hundred yards, swim a hundred, walk a
hundred and run a hundred, for honors.
INDOORS:
Make a war club, each, for use in dancing.
Make a hunter’s lamp.
Make a camp broom.
September, the Hunting Moon
OUTDOORS:
Camping, over-night hikes, etc.
Now the water is low, make dams and docks at
swimming place for next year.
INDOORS:
Make a collection of spore prints, and portraits
of fungus.
When raining: Practise tribal calls, story telling,
and games like Rattler and Feather-blow.
Make a Peace Pipe of wood.
October, the Leaf-falling Moon
OUTDOORS: —
Make a collection of leaves and study trees.
Make a collection of nuts.
Gather wood for bows and arrows.
INDOORS:
Arrange, mount, and name specimens.
Learn knots. First aid.
——————
Suggested Programs 171
_ November, the Mad Moon
j
OuTpDooRS:
This is the Moon of Short Hikes.
Now build a cabin for winter use.
Study evergreens.
This is the Moon of Gloom and Sadness, so study
fire lighting; rubbing-stick fire.
_ InDoors:
Study Sign Language and picture writing.
Carve horns, spoons, and cups, decorating with
record pictography.
Take up taxidermy.
Decorate the Tally Book.
December, the Long Night Moon.
OvuTDOORS:
This is the time to learn the stars. Also study
evergreens, making a collection of their
twigs and cones.
INDOORS:
Make bead work for costumes.
Get up entertainments to raise money.
Make an Indian Council, or a Wild-West Show.
Learn the War dances.
SUGGESTIONS FOR EVENINGS
“1st Hour:
Roll call.
Train new fellows, if need be, in knots, and laws; or
prepare others for rst and 2d degrees.
: 2d Hour:
Lesson in one or other of the following subjects:
Semaphore, Myer code, tracks, animals, birds.
Sign Language, trees, basketry, carving,
stars, fire-lighting, box-making, bed-making,
172 The Book of Woodcraft
3d Hour:
Lessons in Indian dances.
Learn some song.
Tell a story.
Close, singing National Anthem or the Omaha Tribal
Prayer. 3
ANIMAL STORY BOOKS FOR EVENINGS
Written by Ernest Thompson Seton.
Published by Charles Scribner’s Sons
153 5th Ave., New York City.
Witp Anmats I Have Known, 1808.
The stories of Lobo, Silverspot, Molly Cottontail,
Bingo, Vixen, T he Pacing Mustang, Wully, and
Redruff. Price, $2.
Loso, RAG AND VIXEN, 1900.
This is a school eign of the above, with some of
the stories and many of the pictures left out.
Price, 50c) eb:
THE TRAIL OF THE SANDHILL STAG, 1899.
The story of a long hunt that ended without a tragedy.
Price, $1.50. |
Tue Lives OF THE HUNTED, 10901. |
The stories of Krag, Reade Johnny Bear, The Mother .
Teal, Chink, The Kangaroo Rat, and Tito, Theg
Coyote. Price, $1.75, net.
KRAG AND JOHNNY BEAR, 1902.
This is a school Sites of the above, with some of
the stories and many of the pictures left out. |
Price, soc. net. é
Mownarcu, THE Bic BEAR OF TALLAC, 1904.
The story of a big California Grizaly that is living
yet. Price, $1.25 net. i
Suggested Programs 173
ANIMAL HEROES, 1905.
The stories of a Slum Cat, a Homing Pigeon, The
Wolf That Won, A Lynx, A Jack-rabbit, A Bull-
terrier, The Winnipeg Wolf and A White Rein-
deer. Price $1.75 net.
Published by The Century Company,
Union Square, New York City.
_ BioGRAPHY OF A GRIZZLY, 1900.
The story of old Wahb from Cubhood to the scene
in Death Gulch. Price, $1.50.
WoopMYTH AND FABLE, 1905.
A collection of fables, woodland verses, and camp
stories. Price, $1.25 net.
BIOGRAPHY OF A SILVER Fox, 1909.
The story of a New England silver fox. Price, $1.50.
(A companion to the Grizzly.)
INDOOR OR WINTER ACTIVITIES
Handicraft:
Make a willow bed (see later); teepee; war club for
ceremonial use in dance; boat; skiff; bird boxes;
wall pocket for camp; bow and arrows; paddle
and paint it; fire sticks for rubbing-stick fire;
drum; baskets of spruce, raffia or rattan, etc.;
and decorate the Tally Book.
Map-making.
Games (see Index):
Learn the Games:
Tree the coon.
Quicksight.
Farsight.
er er
174 The Book of Woodcraft
Let each imitate some animal, or all the same animal. —
Practise cockfight.
Practise spearfight on tubs.
Feather-blow.
Bear hunt.
Rat-on-his-lodge (with little sawdust bags.)
Learn:
The flags of some other nations.
The flags of the weather bureau.
The stars.
The evergreen trees.
The Indian blazes and signs.
Learn:
First aid.
Sign Language.
Signaling.
Songs:
Some songs for camp.
War song of Sitting Bull.
Omaha Tribal Prayer.
Dances:
The War dance.
The Dog dance.
Snake dance.
Caribou dance.
ROBE OR WAR SHIRT CONTEST
It will be found stimulating to offer a grand prize for
the individual that scores the highest in the whole camp-
out, according to a given scale of points. We usually call
this a Robe Contest, because the favorite prize is a Saga-
more’s robe — that is, a blanket decorated with figures
ee ee a ee
Suggested Programs 175
in colored wools or in appliqué work. A _ war shirt
also makes a good prize.
The standard for points used at our last camp was as
follows:
All events for which the fixed standards allow more than
5 minutes, 20 and 5 points as winner and loser.
All less than 5 minutes, 10 and 2.
Sturgeon: The crews get, each, 10 for every sturgeon
they land.
Deer hunt: The winners score ro for each deer hunted;
the losers score 2 for each deer hunted.
Each fellow who wished to be in it was allowed for his
contribution to the Council entertainment:
For songs: up to 25 points each; for long stories, up to
25 points each; for jokes, up to 25 points each; for stunts,
up to 25 points each; for hand wrestling and other com-
petitions, 5 on for winner, 5 off for loser.
All challenges not given in Council must be handed
to the committee for approval, three hours before run-
ning off.
Prizes: 1st man, 15; 2d, 10; 3d, 5 points.
All competitions must be on the present camp ground.
Extra points up to 25 per day for neatness and extra
service.
Campfire up to 25 for each of the two keepers.
Dock up to any number for breach of laws.
For each hour of camp service, 10 points per hour.
Articles made since camp began up to 50 points.
All points must be handed in as soon as made. The
Council may refuse those held back.
Those who have won robes are not to enter for present
contest.
Those under 14, or over 35, get 10 per cent. handicap;
those over 14 and under 18, get 5 per cent.
176 The Book of Woodcraft
SUGGESTED CAMP ROUTINE
6.30 A.M. Turn out, bathe, etc.
7.00" Breakfast.
B.00)\" Air bedding, in sun, if possible.
8.15 “‘ Business Council of Leaders.
@.co 1+ Games and practice.
1z.co “ Swimming.
12.00 “ Dinner.
1.00 P.M. Talk by Leader.
B06) 8 Games, etc.
4.00 “ Swimming.
6.0081" Supper.
Evening Council.
50.60 n Lights out.
GOOD PROGRAM OF ENTERTAINMENT AT A COUNCIL
Indian Formal Opening.
Peace Pipe.
Braves to be sworn in.
Honors.
Names.
First aid.
Initiations.
Fire-making.
Challenges.
VWater-boiling.
Caribou dance.
Close by singing the Omaha Prayer.
INDOOR COMPETITION FOR A PRIZE
Each must get up and tell a short story. No excuses
allowed. It is better to try and fail, than not totry. The
one who fails to try is a quitter.
:
ee pee ee ne ern ee
Suggested Programs 177
Mark off on a stick your idea of a yard, a foot, and an
inch.
Show a war club made by yourself.
Dance a step.
Sing a song ‘“‘Mary’s Little Lamb” — if you can do
no better.
Lay a pole to point to true north.
Draw a map of North America from memory in ten
minutes.
Show a piece of wood-carving by yourself, it may be a
picture frame, a spool, an image, a doll, a box, or a peach
basket — but do it.
Give an imitation of some animal — dog, cat, monkey,
mouse, bird, or any wild creature you have seen.
Let each, in turn, read some one poem, and try who can
do it best.
Play the part of an Indian woman finding her warrior
dead.
ONE-DAY HIKES
I think it is a good rule in hiking, never to set out with
the determination that you are going to show how hardy
you are. It is as bad as setting out to show how smart
you are. ‘Smart Aleck” always lands in the gutter.
Do not set out to make a record. Record breakers gen-
erally come to grief in the end. Set out on your hike
determined fo be moderate. That is, take a few fellows;
not more than a dozen. Plan a moderate trip, of which
not more than half the time must be consumed in going
and coming.
For example, if it is Saturday afternoon, and you must
be home by six o’clock, having thus four hours, I should
_ divide it in two hours’ travel, going and coming, and two
hours’ exploration. Three miles is a moderate walk for
178 The Book of Woodcraft
one hour, so that should be the limit of distance that —
ordinarily you tramp from your starting point. At five —
o’clock all hands should gird up their loins and face home- —
ward. }
These are some rules I have found good in hiking:
Do not go in new shoes.
Be sure your toe nails and corns are well pared before going.
Do not take any very little or weak fellows.
Be prepared for rain.
Take a pair of dry socks. |
Travel Indian file in woods, and double Indian file in
roads.
Take a Book of Woodcraft along. :
Always have with you a rule and tape line, knife, some —
string, and some matches.
Take a compass, and sometimes a pocket level.
Take a map, preferably the topographical survey.
‘Take a notebook and a pencil.
Do not waste time over things you can do as well, or
better, at home.
And last, and most important, it is wise to set out with —
an object.
Here are samples of the ideas I have found useful as —
objects for a short hike in winter: |
To determine that hard maple (or other timber) does or ~
does not grow in such a woods.
To prove that a certain road runs north and south. :
To decide whether the valley is or is not higher than the —
one across the divide.
To prove that this or that hill is higher than such a one.
To get any winter fungi.
To look for evergreen fern.
Suggested Programs 179
To get, each, 100 straight rods, 30 inches long, to make
Indian bed, of willow, hazel, kinnikinik, arrowwood, etc.
To get wood for rubbing-sticks, or for a fire-bow.
To get horns for a Caribou dance.
If there is snow, to take, by the tracks, a census of a
given woods, making full-size drawings of each track —
that is, four tracks, one for each foot; and also give the
distance to the next set.
If there is snow, to determine whether there are any
skunk dens in the woods, by following every skunk trail
until it brings you to its owner’s home.
Now, be it remembered that, though I always set out
with an object, I find it wise to change whenever, after I
get there, some much more alluring pursuit or opportunity
turns up. Any one who sticks to a plan, merely because
he started that way, when it turns out to be far from the
best, is not only unwise, he is stupid and obstinate.
VII. General Scouting Indoors
Handicraft Stunts
with his band totem on handle.
LL: each Scout carve a fork and spoon out of wood, —
Make a needle case out of a fowl’s leg or wing
bone, thus: Clean and smooth about three inches of the
bone plug up one end with a soft wood plug and make a,
wooden stopper for the other end. Then with the point of
a knife decorate the bone. The lines should be scratched
in deeply and then have black paint rubbed into them. If
no black paint is handy make a mixture of soot and pine
gum, with a little grease, butter or oil.
Make a tackle box or ditty box 2 x 2 x 6 inches carved out of
solid wood.
Make peach-stone baskets, of a peach-stone shaped with a
file.
Turkey call. An interesting curio is the turkey call.
Take a small cigar box and cut off the end as in the figure.
Get a piece of slate about 2 x 3 inches long, or, failing slate,
take a flat piece of wood and rub it well with rosin. Draw
the two curved edges of the box lightly up this one way, and
it will make a wonderfully good imitation of a turkey call.
A Chicken squawk. ‘This is another call easily made.
Take any small round tin box —a condensed milk tin is
good — and make a hole through the bottom and into this
put a cord. A knot on the inside prevents the cord from
180
SS ee
General Scouting Indoors 181
z. )
ZZ
Ditty - box
Chicken-sSguak
ele
Picture
frame of
wood or
haste hoard
with flat-
acorn cuhs |
as ornaments |-
slipping through. Rosin the cord and draw the fingers
down it with short and long jerks. This give a good imi-
tation of a cackling hen.
Picture frames as in the above illustrations.
Also make beds of willow rods, grass rugs, baskets of
spruce roots, etc. as described elsewhere.
182 The Book of Woodcraft
Birch-bark boxes and baskets. These are easily made if
the bark be softened in hot water before you shape it. The
lacing is spruce roots, also softened with hot water.
(See “‘How to Make Baskets,” by Mary White, Double-
day, Page & Co., $1 plus 10 cents postage.)
SOUVENIR SPOONS
A good indoor activity of Scouts is the making of souve-
nir spoons. Some craftsmen are clever enough to make
these out of wood or of silver. I have found that the best,
easy-working material is bone, deer antler or horn. . Go to
any big drug shop and get one of the 25-cent horn spoons.
It is already of a good spoon-shape, of course. The handle is
hard, smooth, and ready to be ornamented with any device,
cutting it with knife or file, into the owner’s totem, or the
clan or the tribal totems whichnaturally suggest themselves.
a
General Scouting Indoors 183
Skookum Wild Cat Owl Eagle Johnny Bear
The design should be sketched on with pencil or ink, then
realized by shaping the outline with file or knife. The inner
lines are merely scratched on the surface.
In general, one should avoid changing the main outline
of the spoon handle or cutting it enough to weaken it.
Always, rather, adapt the animal to fill the desired
space.
There are several purposes the spoon can answer: First
as a spoon in camp, especially when prizes are offered to
the camp that makes most of its own equipment; next, as a
salable article; third, as exhibition article when it is de-
sired to get up a fine exhibit of handicraft products illus-
trating camp life.
KNOTS
The following are standard knots that an accom-
plished camper should know. Remember a perfect knot
is one that’s neither jambs nor slips.
= < : ee ee ee SA i ee S, Pe = t »~ >. a
*saq9jIq-jJ[eq OM, 930 ‘prod AAvay But *sp109 *pusq ioqouy *spua
. -ulof Joy ‘jou, Jopulg [ews Zurutol 10; *puaq ? JOYS OM} U3 BUL
Joos 10 JOUY S.JaAva MW -j[nd Aq pauedo
Ajista st ‘sdiyps
JQAIU YJ =—*yOuT
s,UeuLleysg oq],
.
*pasooy Ayjssa :squrel
Jo sds JoAeu :}0Uy¥
*peq sAeaye azenbs 10 jouy jooy -p109 8 Jo *youy 17YrY 10 ‘ascou
"sds :Auuevis 10 jaa as[ey appr ut doo; pextg Sutuuns jouy dis
jou squef 134}10u
yey} esoou & :ouljMog
The Book of Woodcraft
“pus Usppry ‘Suryse] pus-xe Ay
185
“HOUT [TPA Ae
“sadoi 031%] Sur
‘adol @ puv plod v Sur -ulof 10} ‘puaq yore
“ulof 10} ‘YOz1Y JayDag
*pasooy
Ajisva iquief 10 dys
jouues :YyozIy Jequity,
General Scouting Indoors
“org -710q
© pue Auuvis-jjeq
® Gy ador yaxoIg
186 The Book of Woodcraft
FIRESIDE TRICK
An Indian showed me this, though I have since seen ~
it among whites! .
Put your hands together as in the drawing, palms also ©
touching.
The thumbs are you —
and your brother. You
can separate easily —
like that.
The first fingers aregg
you and your father, you ©
can separate not quite :
so easily — like that: %
» ‘The little fingers arom
you and your sister, you
can separate, but that
comes a little harder —
still — like that.
The middle fingers are —
you and your mother,
you can separate, but it ©
is hard — see that. ,
The ring fingers are
you and your sweetheart, you cannot separate without a
everything else going first to pieces. 7
,
THE LONE STAR TRICK |
i.
f
A Texan showed me an interesting trick on the table.
He took six wooden toothpicks, bent them sharply 1 in the
middle, and laid ae down in the form shown in “A.” .
‘‘Now,” he says, ‘‘when our people got possession of —
Texas, it was nothing but a wilderness of cactus spines. _
qj
-
General Scouting Indoors
See them there! Then
they began irrigating.
(Here he put a spoonful SE
of water in the centre of
the spines.) And then AK
a change set in and kept TaN UE Sk
on until they turned into
the Lone Star State.”
As we watched, the water caused the toothpicks to
straighten out until they made the pattern of a star as
in I] Bye
BIRD BOXES OR HOUSES
A good line of winter work is making bird boxes to have
them ready for the spring birds.
Two styles of bird houses are in vogue; one a miniature
house on a pole, the other is an artificial hollow limb in a
aree.
__ First — the miniature cabin or house on a pole. This is
very good for martins, swallows, etc., and popular with most
birds, because it is safest from cats and squirrels. But
most of us consider it far from ornamental.
To make one, take any wooden box about six inches square
put a wooden roof on it (ain Cut), then bore a hole in the
middle of one end, making it one and one half inches wide;
and on the bottom nail a piece of two-inch wood with an
inch auger hole in it (b). Drive in a nail for a perch
below the door and all is ready for a coat of soft, olive-
green paint. After this is dry, the box is finished. When
you set it in place, the end of the pole is shaved to fit tight
into the auger hole in the bottom, and the pole then set up,
or fastened to the end of the building. In the latter case
a six or eight foot pole is long enough. In some neighbor-
hoods it is necessary to put tin as a cat and rat guard, on
188 The Book of Woodcraft
the pole, as shown (candd). Some elaborate these
bird houses, making a half dozen compartments. When
this is done the pole goes right through the lowest floor and
fits into a small hole in the floor above.
7 Tin pthe
as
Cat-quarh
i“
= rth ae
TATA TI jianunvieeest ih, —
BIRD BOXES
These large apartment houses are very popular with the —
purple martin, as well as with the English sparrow if they _
are set up in town. “
Alexander Wilson tells us that the Choctaw and
Chicasaw Indians used to make bird houses for the _
a ee -
General Scouting Indoors 189
purple martins thus: ‘Cut off all the top branches
from a sapling, near their cabins, leaving the prongs a
foot or two in length, on each of which they hang a
gourd, or calabash properly hollowed out for their con-
venience.”
But the wild-wood box or hollow limb is more sightly and
for some birds more attractive. There are several ways of
using the natural limb. One is, take a seven or eight inch
stick of chestnut about twenty inches long, split four slabs
off it: (O) then saw off three inches of each end of the
“core” and nail the whole thing together again (P and Q),
omitting the middle part of the core.
Another way is to split the log in half and scoop out the
interior of each half (L and M). When nailed together
again it makes a commodious chamber, about five inches
wide and a foot or more deep.
Another plan is: Take a five-inch limb of green chest-
nut, elm, or any other tough-barked tree. Cut a piece
eighteen inches long, make a long bevel on one end
(e). Now carefully split the bark on one side and peel it.
Then saw the peeled wood into three pieces (f g h), leave
out g and put the bark on again. Cut a hole in the bark on
the longest side, at the place farthest from the beveled end
(x in e), and your bird nest is finished. The beveled end
is there to make it easily nailed up; when in place, it is as
at I. The front — that is, the side where the door is —
should always be the under one; and the door in each case
should be near the top.
But these methods presuppose a fine big stick of wood. I
have more often found it convenient to work with scraps.
Here is one easy way that I have long used: From a
four or five inch round log saw off two sections each two
inches thick, or failing a log, cut out two circles from a
two-inch plank, for top and bottom parts (like f and h);
190 The Book of Woodcraft
then using six or seven laths instead of bark, make a hol-
gray.
This last has the advantage of giving most room in a —
small log. Of course, if one can find a hollow limb, all this —
work is saved. By way of variety this one can be put up ©
hanging from a nail, for which the wire loop is made.
To a great extent the size of hole regulates the kind of |
bird, as most birds like a tight fit.
For wrens make it about one inch; for bluebirds, and tree-
swallows one and one half inches; for martins two and one ©
half inches. .
For latest ideas send to The Jacobs Bird House Com-
pany, 404 So. Washington Street, Waynesburg, Pa.
See also the “ Making of a Hollow Tree,” By E. T. Seton, —
Country Life in America, November, 1908, and seq.
‘Putting up Bird Boxes,” By B. S. Bowdish (special
leaflet), Audubon Society, 141 Broadway, New York. —
15 cents per dozen.
“Useful Birds and Their Protection,” By E. H. Forbush, —
Massachusetts State Board Agriculture, p. 388.
HOW TO RAISE SOME MONEY
A good Scout always “travels on his own steam.” When ~
you want to go camping, don’t go round begging for the ~
cash, but earn it. And a good time to do this is in the win-
ter when you are forced to stay indoors.
How? One way, much in the line of our work, is making ~
low cylinder (J). Cover the hollow cylinder with a large
piece of bark and cut the hole (K). Cut your entry at the —
top, half on each of a pair of laths. Cover the whole thing ~
with bark nailed neatly on; or failing the bark, cover it ©
with canvas and paint a dull green mottled with black and —
General Scouting Indoors IgI
some bird houses. I know a number of persons who would
gladly put up bird houses, if they could get them easily.
See article on Bird Houses.
You can either sell them in a lot to a man who has al-
ready a shop for garden stuff or hardware, or put them ona
hand cart and sell them at much hetter prices yourself. ; /
It is useless to take them to a farmer, or to folks in town,
but a ready sale will be found among ie well-to-do in ite
suburbs, in a country town, or among the summer residents
of the country. The simple boxes might fetch so cents
each, the more elaborate $1.00 or $2.00 according to the
labor they have cost you.
Another way is the manufacture of Indian stuff such as
furniture, birch-bark boxes, baskets, rustic seats, etc., as
described elsewhere in the book. See index.
VII. General Scouting Outdoors
Rubbing-Stick Fire
HAVE certainly made a thousand fires with rubbing-
sticks, and have made at least five hundred different
experiments. So far as I can learn, my own record of
thirty-one seconds from taking the sticks to having the fire
ablaze is the world’s record, andI can safely promise
this: That every boy who will follow the instructions
I now give will certainly succeed in making his rubbing-
stick fire.
Take a piece of dry, sound, balsam-fir wood (or else
cedar, cypress, tamarac, basswood or cottonwood, in order
of choice) and make of it a drill and a block, thus:
Drill. Five eighths of an inch thick, twelve to fifteen
inches long; roughly rounded, sharpened at each end as in
the cut (Cut 1 a).
Block, or board, two inches wide, six or eight inches long,
five eighths of an inch thick. In this block, near one end,
cut a side notch one half an inch deep, wider on the under
side; and near its end half an inch from the edge make a
little hollow or pit in the top of the block, as in the illustra-
tion (Cut 1 b).
Tinder. For tinder use a wad of fine, soft, very dry,
dead grass mixed with shredded cedar bark, birch bark
or even cedar wood scraped into a soft mass.
192
General Scouting Outdoors 193
Bow. Make a bow of any bent stick two feet long,
with a strong buckskin or belt-lacing thong on it (Cut 1 c).
Socket. Finally, you need a socket. This simple little
thing is made in many different ways. Sometimes I use
a pine or hemlock knot with a pit one quarter inch deep,
made by boring with the knife point. But it is a great
help to have a good one made of a piece of smooth, hard
stone or marble, set in wood; the stone or marble having
in it asmooth, round pit three eighths inch wide and three
eighths inch deep. ‘The one I use most was made by the
Eskimo, A view of the under side is shown in Cut 1 (fig. d).
1. Tools for firemaking
Now, we are ready to make the fire:
Under the notch in the fire-block set a thin chip.
Turn the leather thong of the bow once around the drill:
the thong should now be quite tight. Put one point of the
drill into the pit of the block, and on the upper end put the
socket, which is held in the left hand, with the top of the
drill in the hole of the stone (as in Cut 2). Hold the left
wrist against the left shin, and the left foot on the fire-block.
Now, draw the right hand back and forth steadily on level
and the full length of the bow. This causes the drill to
twirl in the pit. Soon it bores in, grinding out powder,
194 The Book of Woodcraft
which presently begins to smoke. When there is a great
volume of smoke from a growing pile of black powder,
you know that you have the spark. Cautiously lift the
block, leaving the smoking powder on the chip. Fan this
with your hand till the live coal appears. Now, put a wad
2. Ready to make fire
of the tinder gently on the spark; raise the chip to a con-
venient height, and blow till it bursts into flame.
N.B. (1) The notch must reach the middle of the fire-pit.
(2) You must hold the drill steadily upright, and cannot
do so without bracing the left wrist against the left shin,
and having the block on a firm foundation.
(3) You must begin lightly and slowly, pressing heavily
and sawing fast after there is smoke.
(4) If the fire does not come, it is because you have not
followed these instructions.
HIKING IN THE SNOW
In the suggested programs I have given a number of
outlines for one-day hikes. For those who wish to find out
General Scouting Outdoors 195
what animals live near there is no time better than when the
snow is on the ground.
I remember a hike of the snow-track kind that afforded
myself and two boy friends a number of thrills, more
than twenty-five years ago.
There were three of us out on a prowl through the woods,
looking for game. We saw no live thing, but there had
been a fall of soft snow, a few days before; tracks were
abundant, and I proposed that each of us take a track and
follow it through thick and thin, until he found the beast,
which, if living and free, was bound to be at the other end
of the line; or, until he found its den. Then, each should
halloa to let the others know that his quarry was holed.
Close by were the tracks of a mink and of two skunks. The
f, é &,
ae” —
ys. OE oe « =
“oe SOS OUT Lone >A PTY ad
Fag ae es 2 ag oe WE
Mink track
mink-track was my guide. It led southward. I followed
it through swamps and brushwood, under logs, and into
promising nooks. Soon I crossed the trail of the youngest
boy, closely pursuing his skunk. Later, I met my friend
of skunk No. 2, but our trails diverged. Now I came toa
long hill down which my mink had tobogganed six or eight
feet, after the manner of the otter. At last the trail came
to an end in a perfect labyrinth of logs and brush. I went
all around this. The snow was clear and smooth. My
mink was certainly in this pile. So I let off a long halloa
and got an answer from one of the boys, who left his trail
and came to me within a few minutes. It happened that
this one, Charlie, was carrying a bag with a ferret in it, that
196 The Book of Woodcraft
we had brought in the hope that we might run to earth a
rabbit; and this particular ferret was, like everything his
owner had, ‘‘absolutely the best in Canada.”’ He claimed
that it could kill rats, six at a time; that it could drive
a fox out of its hole; that it was not afraid of a coon;
while a skunk or a mink was simply beneath its notice.
I now suggested that this greatest of ferrets be turned
in after the mink, while we watched around the pile of
logs.
I never did like a ferret. He is such an imp of murder
incarnate. It always gives me the creeps to see the blood-
thirsty brute, like a four-legged snake, dive into some hole,
im Kinet
Skunk track
with death and slaughter as his job. I hate him; but, after
all, there is something thrilling and admirable about his
perfectly diabolical courage. How would one of us like
to be sent alone into a dark cave, to find out and fight
some unknown monster, much larger than ourselves,
and able, for aught we know, to tear us into pieces in
a moment!
But the ferret never faltered; he dived into the log laby-
rinth. It was a small ferret and a big mink; I awaited
anxiously. After a long silence, we saw our four-footed
partner at the farther end, unruffled, calm and sinuous.
General Scouting Outdoors 197
Nothing had happened. We saw no mink, but I knew he
was there. The ferretteer said, “It just proved what he
had claimed — ‘a mink was beneath his ferret’s notice’!”’
Maybe?
Now, we heard the shout of hunter No. 2. We answered.
He came to us to say that, after faithfully following his
skunk-trail leader for two hours, through forest, field and
fen, he had lost it in a host of tracks in a ravine some half-a-
mile away.
So we gave our undivided attention to skunk No. 1, and
in a few minutes had traced him to a hole, into which there
led a multitude of trails, and from which there issued an
odor whose evidence was beyond question. Again we
submitted the case to our subterranean representative, and
nothing loth the ferret glided down. But presently re-
appeared, much as he went, undisturbed and unodorized.
Again and again he was sent down, but with the same result.
So at length we thrust him ignominiously into the bag. The
ferret’s owner said there was no skunk; the rest of us said
there was, but that the ferret was “‘scared,” ‘‘no good,” etc.
Then, a plan suggested itself for clearing or convicting that
best of all ferrets. We plugged up the skunk hole, and went
back to the house. It seemed that the youngest brother
of one of my companions had a tiny pet dog, a toy, the
darling of his heart — just such a dog as you read about;
a most miserable, pampered, cross, ill-bred, useless and
snarling little beast, about the size of a large rat. Prince
was his name, for Abraham, his little master, never lost
an opportunity of asserting that this was the prince of all
dogs, and that his price was above rubies. But Prince had
made trouble for Bob more than once, and Bob was ready
to sacrifice Prince on the altar of science, if need be. Indeed,
Satan had entered into Bob’s heart and sketched there a
plausible but wicked plan. So this boy set to work and
198 The Book of Woodcraft
coaxed Prince to leave the house, and beguiled him with
soft words, so that he came with us to the skunk’s den in
the woods. It required but little encouragement, then,
to get that aggressive little beast of a doglet to run into the
hole and set about making himself disagreeable to its occu-
pant. Presently, we were entertained with a succession of
growlets and barklets, then a volley of howlets, followed by
that awful smell — you know.
Soon afterward, Prince reappeared, howling. For some
minutes he did nothing but roll himself in the snow, rub
his eyes and yell. So that after all, in spite of our ferret’s
evidence, there was a skunk in the hole, and the ferret had
really demonstrated a vast discretion; in fact, was prob-
ably the discreetest ferret in Canada.
We had got good proof of that skunk’s existence but we
did not get him, and had to go home wondering how we
should square ourselves for our sacrilege in the matter of
the pet dog. It was Bob’s job to explain, and no one tried
to rob him of the glory. He began by sowing a few casual
remarks, such as, ‘‘Pears to me there must be a skunk
under the barn.”” Then, later, when Prince bounded in,
“Phew! "pears to me that there fool purp has been after
that skunk!”
Poor little Prince! It made him lose his nightly couch
in Abraham’s bosom and condemned him to be tubbed and
scrubbed every day, and to sleep outdoors fora week. But —
he had his revenge on all of us; for he barked all night,
and every night, under our windows. He couldn’t sleep;
why should we? And we didn’t. 3 |
Of course, this instance is given rather as a dreadful —
example of error than as a model for others.
We got back from our hike that time with a lot of inter-
esting wild animal experience, and yet you will note we —
did not see any wild animal all the time.
General Scouting Outdoors 199
OLD WEATHER WISDOM
When the dew is on the grass,
Rain will never come to pass.
When the grass is dry at night,
Look for rain before the light.
When grass is dry at morning light,
Look for rain before the night.
Three days’ rain will empty any sky.
A deep, clear sky of fleckless blue
Breeds storms within a day or two.
When the wind is in the east,
It’s good for neither man nor beast.
When the wind is in the north,
The old folk should not venture forth,
When the wind is in the south,
It blows the bait in the fishes’ mouth.
When the wind is in the west,
It is of all the winds the best.
An opening and a shetting
Is a sure sign of a wetting.
(Another version)
_ Open and shet,
Sure sign of wet.
(Still another)
It’s lighting up to see to rain.
200 The Book of Woodcraft
Evening red and morning gray
Sends the traveler on his way.
Evening gray and morning red
Sends the traveler home to bed.
Red sky at morning, the shepherd takes warning;
Red sky at night is the shepherd’s delight.
If the sun goes down cloudy Friday, sure of a clear Sun-
day.
If a rooster crows standing on a fence or high place, it will
clear. If on the ground, it doesn’t count.
Between eleven and two
You can tell what the weather is going to do.
Rain before seven, clear before eleven.
Fog in the morning, bright sunny day.
If it rains, and the sun is shining at the same time, the
devil is whipping his wife and it will surely rain to-morrow.
If it clears off during the night, it will rain shortly again.
Sun drawing water, sure sign of rain.
A circle round the moon means ‘‘storm.’” As many stars
as are in circle, so many days before it will rain.
Sudden heat brings thunder.
A storm that comes against the wind is always a thunder-
storm.
The oak and the ash draw lightning. Under the birch
the cedar, and balsam you are safe.
East wind brings rain.
West wind brings clear, bright, cool weather.
North wind brings cold.
South wind brings heat. (On Atlantic coast.)
[ai
SDE
eee eee
General Scouting Outdoors 201
The rain-crow or cuckoo (both species) is supposed by all
hunters to foretell rain, when its ‘‘ Kow, kow, kow”’ is long
and hard.
So, also, the tree-frog cries before rain.
Swallows flying low is a sign of rain; high, of clearing.
weather.
The rain follows the wind, and the heavy blast is just
_ before the shower.
OUTDOOR PROVERBS
What weighs an ounce in the morning, weighs a pound
at night.
A pint is a pound the whole world round.
Allah reckons not against a man’s allotted time the days
he spends in the chase.
If there’s only one, it isn’t a track, it’s an accident.
Better safe than sorry.
No smoke without fire.
The bluejay doesn’t scream without reason.
The worm don’t see nuffin pretty ’bout de robin’s song.—
_ (Darkey.)
Ducks flying over head in the woods are generally pointed
_ for water.
If the turtles on a log are dry, they have been there half
an hour or more, which means no one has been near to
alarm them.
Cobwebs across a hole mean “‘nothing inside.”’
Whenever you are trying to be smart, you are going
wrong. Smart Aleck always comes to grief.
You are safe and winning, when you are trying to be
kind.
202 The Book of Woodcraft
The Stars
A settlement worker once said to me: “It’s all very
well talking of the pleasures of nature study, but what use
is it to my little Italians and Polish Jews in the slums of
New York? ‘They get no chance to see the face of nature.”
“Tf they do not,” I replied, ‘‘it is their own fault. They
watch the pavements too much for coppers; they are forever
looking down. To-night you ask them to look up. If the
sky is clear, they will have a noble chance.”
Yes! the stars are the principle study for outdoors at
night and above all in winter time; for not only are many of
the woodcraft pursuits impossible now, but the nights are
long, the sky is clear, and some of the most famous star-
groups are visible to us only in winter.
So far as there is a central point in our heavens, that
point is the Pole Star — Polaris. Around this all the stars
in the sky seem to turn once
, ae /j,> in twenty-four hours. It is
¢ id Soy easily discovered by the help
v9 ie SA of the Pointers, or Dipper, —
Now we known to every country boy ~
% Pa Wore in America.
pa *® Most of the star-groups are
CUT 1 known by the names of hu- —
man figures or animals. The modern astronomers laugh ~
at and leave out these figures in the sky; but we shall find _
it a great help to memory and interest if we revive and use
them; but it is well to say now that it is not because the ~
form of the group has such resemblance, but because there —
is some traditional association of the two. For example:
|
|
= 5
General Scouting Outdoors 203
The classical legend has it that the nymph Callisto,
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 Arkios
(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 their 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.
It is no doubt, because it is so conspicuous, that the Great
Bear is the oldest of all the constellations, in a human
historical sense. Although it has no resemblance to a
Bear, the tail part has obvious resemblance to a Dipper,
by which name it is known to most Americans. Therefore,
because so well known, so easily pointed out, and so helpful
in pointing out the other stars, this Dipper will be our
starting point and shall prove our Key to the whole sky.
If you do not know the Dipper, get some one who does
to point it out; or look in the northern sky for the shape
shown in Cut, remembering that it goes around the Pole
Star every twenty-four hours, so that at different times
it is seen at different places.
Having found the Dipper, note carefully the two stars
marked b and a; these, the outer rim of the Dipper bowl
are called the Pointers, because they point to, or nearly
to, the Pole Star; the latter being about three dipper rims
(a d) away from the Dipper.
Now, we have found the great Pole Star, which is called
by Indians the “Star that never moves” and the ‘“‘Home
204 The Book of Woodcraft
Star.”’ Note that it is in the end of the handle of a Little
Dipper, or, as it is called, the Little Bear, Ursa minor;
this Bear, evidently, of an extinct race, as bears, nowa-
days, are not allowed such tails.
Now, let us take another view of the Dipper. Its handle
is really the tail of the Great Bear, also of the extinct long-
tailed race. (Cut 2.) Note that it is composed of seven
stars, hence its name, ‘‘The Seven Stars.”’ Four of these
are in the bowl and three in the handle; the handle is bent
at the middle star, and this one is called Mizar. Just above
Mizar is a tiny star called Alcor. Can you see Alcor? In
all ages it has been considered a test of good eyesight to
see this little star, even among the Indians. They call
the big one the Old Squaw, and the little one the “‘pappoose
on her back.” Keep this in mind as a test. Can you
see the pappoose?
If I give you the Latin names of the stars and the scien-
tific theories as to their densities and relations, you certainly
will not carry much of it away. But let us see if the old
animal stories of the sky are not a help.
In Cut No. 2 of the Great Bear Hunt, for instance, you
see the Dipper in the tail of the long-tailed Bear; and not
only is this creature hunted, but in many other troubles.
Thus, there is a swarm of flies buzzing about his ear, and
another on his flank below b of the Dipper. These swarms
are really nebule or clusters of very small stars.
Close below the Bear are two Hounds of Boétes in leash
and in full pursuit of Ursa. They also have annoyances,
for there is a swarm of flies at the ear of each. On Ursa’s
haunch are two areas that, according to the star maps,
belong to the Hounds, so we must consider them the bites
the hounds are going to take out.
Last, and leading, is the great hunter ‘‘Bodtes.”’ If you
follow the Dipper, that is, the Bear’s tail, in a curve for
General Scouting Outdoors 205
the length of two tails, it will bring you to Arcturus, the
wonderful star that the Bear hunter wears like a blazing
jewel in his knee.
Just above the head of Bodtes is another well-known con-
stellation, the Northern Crown. (Corona borealis.) This
very small and very beautiful star-group has been called
the ‘Diamond Necklace in the sky.”’ because it looks like
beaeeee ms,
CUT 2. Bodtes Hunting the Great Bear
a circle of jewels with one very large one in the middle of the
string. The Indians call it the Camp Circle of the Gods.
If you draw a line from the back rim of the Dipper
through Mizar, that is, the star at the bend of the handle,
and continue about the total length of the Dipper, it will
touch the Crown.
The step from the Crown to the Cross is natural, and is
easy in the sky. If you drawa line up- +
ward from the middle of the Dipper gee
bowl, straight across the sky, about three # °° « "
total Dipper lengths, until it meets the % nee
Milky. Way, you reach the Northern *
4:
Cross, which is also called Cygnus, the yorruern cross
206 The Book of Woodcraft
Swan. Younote it is on the opposite side of the Pole Star
from the Dipper, and about one and a half Dipper lengths
from the Pole.
One more easily known group is now in sight, that is,
Cassiopeia in her chair. It is exactly opposite the Big
Dipper on the other side of the Pole
J is eek Star, and about as far from the latter as
Sa ae the Big Dipper is, that is, the Big Dipper
revue and Cassiopeia balance each other; as
iS aa ue ibe the one goes up, the other goes down.
ee There is yet another famous constel-
of 1/N Lut Yk. lation that every one should know; and
Pie AS , that is “Orion, the great hunter, the Bull-
CASSIOPEIA fighter in the sky.” During the summer,
it goes on in day-time, but in winter it rises in the evening
and passes over at the best of times to be seen. February
is a particularly happy time for this wonder and pie
of the blue.
If you draw a line from the inner rim of the Dipper,
through the outer edge of the bottom, and continue it
about two and a half total lengths of the Dipper, it will
lead to the Star “Procyon” the “Little Dogstar,” the
principal light of the constellation Canis minor. Below
it, that is, rising later, is Sirius the ‘‘Great Dogstar,” chief
of the Constellation Canis major, and the most wonderful
starin the sky. It is really seventy times as brilliant as the
Sun, but so far away from us, that if the Sun’s distance
(92,000,000 miles) be represented by one inch, the distance
of Sirius would be represented by eight miles; and yet it is
one of the nearest of the stars in the sky. If you see a star
that seems bigger or brighter than Sirius, you may know
it is not a star, but a planet, either Venus, Jupiter or Mars.
Having located the Dogstar, it is easy to go farther to
the southward, and recognize the Great Hunter Orion. The
General Scouting Outdoors 207
three Kings on his belt are among the most striking of all
the famous stars in our blue dome. And, having found
them, it is easy to trace the form of the Giant by the bright
stars, Betelgeuse (orange), in his right shoulder, and Bella-
trix in his left, Saiph in his right knee, and Rigel in his left
foot. In his left hand he shakes the lion skin to baffle the
bull while his right swings the mighty club that seems al-
ready to have landed on the bull’s head, for the huge crea-
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ORION
ture’s face is spotted all over with star-groups called the
“Hyades.” The wonderful red star, Aldebaran, is the Bull’s
right eye and the Pleiades are the arrow wounds in the
Bull’s shoulder.
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 just at midnight,
208 The Book of Woodcraft
through the mysterious southward-pointing passage of the
Pyramid.”
Out of Orion’s left foot runs the River Eridanus, to
wander over the sky; and, crouching-for protection at the
right foot of the Great Hunter, is Lepus the Hare.
Now, how many constellations have you learned? In
the Indian Scouts you need ten. Ten sounds hard, but
here you have already got seventeen, and I think will have
little trouble in remembering them.
And why should you do so? There are many reasons, and
here is one that alone would, I think, make it worth while:
An artist friend said to me once: ‘I am glad I learned
the principal star groups when I was young. For my life
has been one of wandering in far countries, yet, wherever
I went, I could always look up and see something familiar
and friendly, something that I knew in the dear bygone
days of my boyhood’s home, and something to guide me
still.”
PLEIADES AS A TEST OF EYESIGHT
This star group has always been considered a good test
of eyesight.
I once asked a group of fee in camp how many of the
Pleiades they could count with the naked eye. A noisy,
forward boy, who was nicknamed ‘‘Bluejay,”’ because he
was so fond of chattering and showing off, said, ‘Oh, I see
hundreds.”
‘Well, you can sit down,” I said, “for you can do nothing
of the kind.”
Another steadier boy said, ‘‘I believe I see six,” and he
proved that he did see them, for he mapped them out
properly on a board with six pebbles.
That boy had good eyes, because poor eyes see merely a
haze, but another boy present had better eyes, for he saw,
General Scouting Outdoors 209
and proved that he saw, seven. This is considered first-
class. The Indians as a rule see seven, because they call
them the Seven Stars. But, according to Flammarion, it is
possible to exceed this, for several persons have given
proof that they distinguished ten Pleiades. This is almost
the extreme of human eyesight. There is, however,
The Pleiades as seen with the best of naked eyes
according to the same authority, a record of thirteen
Pleiades having been actually seen by the unaided human
eye.
The telescope reveals some 2,000 in the cluster.
The Indians call them the ‘‘Seven Dancers,” and tell a
legend that seems to explain their dancing about the small-
est one, as well as the origin of the constellation.
Once there were seven little Indian boys, who used to
take their bowl of succotash each night and eat their
suppers together on a mound outside the village. Six
were about the same size, one was smaller than the rest,
but he had a sweet voice, and knew many songs, so after
supper the others would dance around the mound to his
singing, and he marked time on his drum.
When the frosty days of autumn were ending, and winter
210 The Book of Woodcraft
threatened to stop the nightly party, they said, “Let us
ask our parents for some venison, so we can have a grand
feast and dance for the last time on the mound.”
They asked, but all were refused. Each father said,
‘When I was a little boy, I thought myself lucky to get
even a pot of succotash, and never thought of asking for
venison as well.”
So the boys assembled at the mound. All were gloomy
but the little singer, who said:
“Never mind, brothers! We shall feast without venison,
and we shall be merry just the same, for I shall sing you
a new song that will lighten your hearts.”
First, he made each of them fasten on his head a little
torch of birch bark, then he sat down in the middle and
thumped away at his little drum and sang:
Ki yi yi yah
Ki yi yi yah
And faster
Ki yi yi yah
Ki yi yi yah
And faster still, till now they were spinning round.
Then:
Ki yi yi yah
Ki yi yi yah
Whoooooop
They were fairly whirling now, and, as the singer gave
this last whoop of the last dance on the mound, they and he
went dancing over the treetops into the sky; light of heart
and heels and head, they went, and their parents rushed
out in time to see them go, but too late to stop them. And
now you may see them every clear autumn night as winter
draws near; you may see the little torches sparkling as they
General Scouting Outdoors 211
dance, the six around the little one in the middle. Of
course, you can’t hear his song, or even his drum, but you
must remember he is a long way off now.
There is another story of a little Indian girl called
Two-Bright-Eyes. She was the only child of her parents.
She wandered away one evening seeking the whippoorwill
and got lost — you see, even Indians get lost sometimes.
She never returned. The mourning parents never learned
what became of her, but they thought they saw a new pair
of twin stars rising through the trees not long after, and
when their grief was so softened by time that they could
sing about it, this is the song they made about their loss:
THE TWIN STARS
Two-Bright-Eyes went wandering out
To chase the whippoorwill.
Two-Bright-Eyes got lost, and left
Our teepee, oh, so still!
Two-Bright-Eyes was lifted up
To sparkle in the skies,
And look like stars, but we know well
That that’s our lost Bright-Eyes.
She is looking for the camp,
She would come back if she could;
She is peeping thro’ the trees to find
The teepee in the wood.
The Planets
The stars we see are suns like our Sun, giving out light
to worlds that go around them as our world goes around our
Sun; as these worlds do not give out light, and are a long
212, The Book of Woodcraft
way off, we cannot see them. But around our own
Sun are several worlds besides ours. They are very
near to us, and we can see them by the reflected
light of the Sun. These’ are called “planeiaiaer
‘‘wanderers,”’ because, before their courses were under-
stood, they seemed to wander about, all over the sky,
unlike the fixed stars.
They are so close to us that their distance and sizes are
easily measured. They do not twinkle.
There are eight, in all, not counting the small Planetoids;
but only those as large as stars of the first magnitude
concern us. They are here in order of nearness to the
Sun:
1. MERCURY is always close to the Sun, so that it is
usually lost in the glow of the twilight or of the vapors
of the horizon, where it shows like a globule of quicksilver.
It has phases and quarters like the Moon. It is so hot
there ‘‘that a Mercurian would be frozen to death in Africa
or Senegal” (Flammarion).
2. VENUS. The brightest of all the stars is Venus; far
brighter than Sirius. It is the Morning Star, the Evening
Star, the Shepherd’s Star, and yet not a star at all, but a
planet. It has phases and quarters like the Moon. You
can place it only with the help of an almanac.
3. ‘THE EARTH.
4. MARS. The nearest of the other worlds to us. It
is a fiery-red planet. It has phases like the Moon.
5. JUPITER, like a very large star of the first magni-
tude, famous for its five moons, and really the largest of
the planets.
6. SATURN, noted for its rings, also like a very large
star of the first magnitude.
7. URANUS and (8) NEPTUNE, are too small for
observation without a telescope.
i _
General Scouting Outdoors 213
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 twenty-seven and a
quarter days. It loses nearly three quarters of an hour
each night; that is, it rises that much later.
“Astronomy with an Opera Glass.”’ Garrett P. Serviss,
D. Appleton & Co., New York City. Price, $1.50.
MAKING A DAM
When I was a boy we had no natural swimming pool,
but there was a small stream across our farm; and I with
my two friends succeeded in making a pool, partly by dam-
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ming up the little stream, and partly by digging out the
place above the dam.
The first things needed were two logs long enough to
214 The Book of Woodcraft
reach from bank to bank. These we placed across with
the help of the team, and fixed them firmly three feet apart.
Inside of each and tight against it we drove a row of strong
stakes leaving a gap or sluiceway for the water to run until
the rest of the dam was finished.
This cribbing we now filled
with clay dug out of the bed
of the brook above the dam.
Hammering it down hard, and
covering the top with flat stones.
Finally we closed up the sluice-
way with stakes and clay like the rest of it, and in one
night the swimming hole filled up. Next morning there
was a little cataract over the low place I had purposely left
for an overflow. The water was four feet deep and many
of us there learned to swim.
WHEN LOST IN THE WOODS
If you should 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 the camp. You may be so sure of these
things:
You are not nearly as 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
General Scouting Outdoors 216
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 “Iam in trouble.” Those in camp on
seeing this should send up one smoke, which means “‘Camp
is here.”
In a word, ‘‘keep cool, make yourself comfortable, leave
a record of your travels, and help your friends to find you.”
INDIAN TWEEZERS
Oftentimes, a camper may need a pair of tweezers or
forceps to pull out a thorn or catch some fine end. If he
happens to be without the real thing, he can supply the
place with those of Indian style —these are simply a
small pair of clam-shells, with edges clean and hinge un-
broken.
The old-time Indians had occasionally a straggly
beard. They had no razor, but they managed to do
without one. As a part of their toilet for special oc-
casion they pulled out each hair by means of the clam-
shell nippers.
216 The Book of Woodcraft
A HOME-MADE COMPASS
If you happen to have a magnet, it is easy to make a
compass. Rub a fine needle on the magnet; then on the
side of your nose. Then lay it gently on the surface of a
cup full of water. The needle will float and point north.
The cup must not be of metal.
AN INDIAN CLOCK, SHADOW CLOCK OR SUNDIAL
To make an Indian shadow clock or sundial, prepare
a smooth board about fifteen inches across, with a circle
divided by twenty-four
rays into equal parts.
Place it on a level, solid
post or stump in the
open. At night set the
dial so that the twelve
o’clock line points ex-
actly north, as deter-
mined by the Pole Star
and nailit down. Then,
fix a stick or powmiter
with its upper edge on
the centre and set it
exactly pointing to the
Pole Star (ab); that is,
the same angle as the
latitude of the place,
and fix it there immov-
ably; it may be necessary to cut a notch (c) in the board
to permit of a sight line. The hours eight at night to four
next morning may as well be painted black. As a time-
piece, this shadow clock will be found roughly correct.
General Scouting Outdoors 207
The Indians of course used merely the shadow of a tree,
or the sun streak that fell on the lodge floor through the
smoke opening.
LIGHTS
For camp use, there is nothing better than the Stone-
bridge folding lantern, with a good supply of candles. A
temporary torch can readily be made of a roll of birch bark,
a pine knot, or some pine-root slivers, in a split stick of
green wood.
HUNTER’S LAMP.
A fairly steady light can be made of a piece of cotton
cloth or twisted rag, stuck in a clam-shell full of oil or
melted grease. An improvement is easily made by putting
the cotton wick through a hole in a thin, flat stone, which
sets in the grease and holds the wick upright.
Another improvement is made by using a tin in place of
the shell. It makes a steadier lamp, as well as a much
larger light. This kind of a lamp enjoys wide use and has
some queer names, such as slot-lamp, grease-jet, hunter’s
lamp, etc. (See Cut on next page.)
WOODMAN’S LANTERN
When nothing better is at hand, a woodman’s lantern can
bemadeofatomatocan. Makea big hole in the bottom for
_ the candle, and punch the sides full of small holes, prefer-
ably from the inside. If you have a wire to make a hanger,
well and good; if not, you can carry it by the bottom.
This lets out enough light and will not go out in the wind.
If you want to set it down, you must make a hole in the
ground for the candle, or if on a table, set it on two blocks.
(Cut on next page.)
218 The Book of Woodcraft
Another style is described in a recent letter from
Hamlin Garland:
‘Apropos of improved camp lights, I had a new one ‘sprung
on me,’ this summer: A forest ranger and I were visiting a
miner, about a mile from our camp. It came on dark, pitch
dark, and when we started home, we could not follow the trail.
flat son
Garlands
forester
Tomafo-tirn ™ re
Lanterns
It was windy as well as dark, and matches did very little good.
So back we went to the cabin. The ranger then picked up an
old tomato can, punched a hole in the side, thrust a candle up
through the hole, lighted it, and took the can by the disk which
had been cut from the top. The whole thing was now a boxed
light, shining ahead like a searchlight, and the wind did not
affect it at all! I’ve been camping, as you know, for thirty
years, but this little trick was new tome. Perhaps it is new to
Vous wb. iG.
Still another style, giving a better light, is made by
General Scouting Outdoors 219
heating an ordinary clear glass quart bottle pretty hot in the
fire, then dipping the bottom part in cold water; this causes
the bottom to crack off. The candle is placed in the neck,
flame inside, and the bottle neck sunk in the ground.
CAMP LOOM AND GRASS MATS
The chief use of the camp loom is to weave mats for the
beds of grass, straw, hay, or, best of all, sedge. I have
made it thus:
A 3-foot cross-bar A is fast to a small tree, and
seven feet away, even stakes are driven into the ground
8 inches apart, each 3 feet out of the ground. |
Five stout cords are tied to each stick, and to the cross-
bar, keeping them parallel. Then, between each on the
cross-bar is attached another cord (four in all) the far end
of which is made fast to a loose cross-bar, B.
One fellow raises the loose cross-bar B, while another
lays a long bundle of grass tight in the corner C. Then B
_ is lowered to D, and another roll of grass or sedge is tucked
220 The Book of Woodcraft
in on the under side of the stake cords. Thus the bundles
are laid one above and one below, until the mat is of the
the required length. The cords are then fastened, the
cross-bars removed, and the mat, when dried, makes a
fine bed. When added to the willow bed, it is pure lux-
ury; but lawful, because made of wildwood material.
NAVAHO LOOM
A profitable amusement in camp, is weaving rugs or
mats of inner bark, rags, etc., on a rough Navaho loom.
The crudest kind, one which can be made in an hour is il-
lustrated on next page. I have found it quite satisfactory
for weaving rough mats or rugs. (A and B) are two trees or
posts. (C) is the cross piece. (D) is the upper yarn-
beam, wrapped its whole length with a spiral cord. (£) is
the lower yarn-beam, similarly wrapped. (FF) are stout
cords to carry the frame while the warp is being stretched
between the yarn-beams. (GG) is a log hung on for
weight. (H H) is a round stick fastened between the
yarns, odds on one side, evens on the other, to hold the
yarns open until the rug is all done, but about one inch
when it is drawn out.
Now with a needle, the yarns or strings for the
warp are stretched from one yarn-beam to another,
as a continuous string. The exact method is shown |
on a larger scale in the upper figure (J) The ©
:
batten or spreader (J) is a piece of light wood two ~
inches wide and one half inch thick, with square edges,
but thin sharp: point, and about as long as the yarn
beam.
Now we are ready to begin. Run the batten between
the yarns under the sticks (H H.) Then drop it to the
bottom and turn it flatwise, thus spreading the yarns apart
Ce ee
General Scouting Outdoors 221
in two rows. Lay a line of soft bark, rags, or other woof
in this opening on top of the batten, making sure that it
projects a couple of inches at each end. Double these
long ends around the strong cords (F F) then back along
themselves. Now draw out the spreading batten and press
the woof down tight.
D>
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———
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es
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Run the batten through alternate threads again, but
the reverse way of last, and this time it goes more slowly ,
for the lack of a guide rod.* Lay a new line of woof as
*This is done much more quickly by help of a heald-rod, that is, a horizontal stick as
wide as the blanket, with every other strand of the warp loosely looped to it by a running
cord near the top. When this rod is pulled forward it reverses the set of the threads and
allows the batten to drop in at once.
222 The Book of Woodcraft
above. When the rug is all finished except the top inch
or more, draw out the rod (H H) and fill the warp to the
top.
Finally cut and draw out the spiral cords on each
yarn-beam. This frees the rug, which is finished,
excepting for trim and binding, when such are de-
sired.
Those who want full details of the best Navaho looms
and methods will find them in Dr. Washington Matthew’s
article on Navaho Weavers, 3d Annual Report, Bur. of
Ethnology, 1881-2. Washington 1884.
CAMP RAKE
A camp rake is made of forked branches of oak, beech,
hickory, or other hard wood, thus: Cut a handle an inch
thick (B C) and 4 feet long, of the shape shown. Flatten it
on each side of A, and make a gimlet-hole through. Now
cut ten branches of the shape DE, each about 20 inches long.
Flatten them at the E end, and make a gimlet-hole through
each. Fasten all together, 5 on each side of the handle,
X
General Scouting Outdoors 228
as in F, with a long nail or strong wire through all the holes;
then, with a cord, lash them together, spacing them by
putting the cord between. Sharpen the points of the teeth,
and your rake is ready.
CAMP BROOM
There are two ways of making a camp broom. First, the
twig broom. This is easily made as follows: Cut a handle
rn aaa CO ————
SS
an inch thick, and shape it to a shoulder,as in A B C.
Lash on birch or other fine twigs, one layer at a time, until
sufficiently thick, as D E. Now at F, put a final lashing of
cord. This draws the broom together, and binds it firmly
to the handle. Trim the ends even with the axe, and it is
ready for use.
The other style is the backwoods broom. This was
usually made of blue-beech or hickory. A 4-foot piece of a
4-inch green trunk is best. Shavings 18 inches long are
224 The Book of Woodcraft
cut down, left attached at J, and bent back over the end
until there is a bunch of them thick enough; when they are
bound together with a cord and appear asin K. Now thin
down the rest of the handle L M, and the broom needs only
a little drying out to be finished.
BUILDING A BOAT
Most camp sites are selected with a view to boating;
certainly no camp is complete without it.
Winter is a good time to build a boat, if you have a
workshop big enough to hold it.
en ee et,
Y Section ae i
ETS
0 see
The simplest kind of a craft is the best to start with.
Get two boards, smooth and with as few knots as possible,
15 in. wide, ae 15 ft. long; about 50 sq. ft. of tongue
and groove flooring; a piece of 2 x 6 in. scantling, 15
in. long; and plenty of 3-in. nails.
Begin by beveling the stern post to an edge (a). Set
General Scouting Outdoors 225
this on the ground and nail two of the boards to it, one on
each side (b). .
At a point about 7 feet from the bow, put in a temporary
cross piece 33 ft. long (c), which can have the ends either
plumb, or spreading wider toward the top.
Around this, bend the two side boards till their stern
ends are but 3 ft. apart. Nail on an end piece (d e) to hold
them there.
Now cut a strip of 1x 2/in. stuff, and nail it inside
along the lower edge of the side board, so as to give a double
thickness on which to nail the bottom.
Turn the boat upside down and nail on the tongue and
groove stuff to form the bottom.
Now, turn her over, remove the shaping board, put
in the necessary stern and mid seats (see dotted lines),
nail on a piece of board to double the thickness where
the rowlocks are needed — each about 12 inches abaft the
mid seat, add rowlocks, and the carpenter work is done.
Tar all the seams, caulking any that are gaping, and
when the tar has set, paint her inside and out. As soon as
this is dry, she is ready for the water.
She may leak a little at first, but the swelling of the wood
has a tendency to close the seams.
This is the simplest form of boat. Great improvement
can be made by making the sides deeper, and cutting the
lower edge so that the bottom rises at bow and stern, also
by setting the stem or bow-post at an angle, and finally by
~ adding a keel.
If you cannot get a 15-in. board, use two or more narrow
ones. Their joints can be made tight by caulking.
A DUGOUT CANOE
Basswood, tulip wood, and white pine were the favorite
woods for a dugout canoe, though no one made one when
226 The Book of Woodcraft
they could get birch bark. The method of making was
simple but laborious. Cut your log to the exact shape
desired on the outside, then drive into it, all along the side,
thin wire nails, an inch long, so that there should be one
every two feet along the side, and more on the bottom.
Now, hollow out the inside with adze or axe, till the nail
points are reached. Sometimes longer nails were used for
the bottom. The wood at bow and stern was, of course,
much thicker.
CAMP HORN
I wish every Camp would get a good camp horn or
Michigan lumberman’s horn. It is about four feet long,
has a six-inch bell-mouth, and is of brass. Its sounds are
made by mouth, but a good player can give a tune as on a
post horn. Its quality is wonderfully rich, mellow and far-
reaching, and it can be heard for three or four miles. It is
a sound to stir the echoes and fill the camp with romantic
memories.
SLEEP OUTDOORS
As you drive through New England in the evening,
summer or winter, you must notice a great many
beds out of doors, on piazza or on sun-deck. Many of
these are beds of persons who are suffering from lung
trouble. They have found out that this is the way to cure
it. Some of them are the beds of persons who fear lung
trouble, and this they know is the way to evade it.
Take, then, this lesson: If possible, every brave should
sleep out of doors as much as possible; not on the ground, and
not in the wind, but in a bed, warm, dry, and rainproof, and
he will be the better for it.
General Scouting Outdoors 227
THE GEE-STRING CAMP
Whenever complete isolation from summer resorts or
mixed company make it permissible, we have found it well
to let the fellows run all day during warm weather, clad
only in their shoes and their small bathing trunks, breech-
clout or gee-string. This is the Gee-String or Indian Camp.
Its value as a daily sun bath, a continual tonic and a
mentally refreshing hark back to the primitive, cannot be
overestimated.
IX, Signaling and Indian Signs
Sign Language
O YOU know the Sign Language?
I) If not, do you realize that the Sign Language is
an established mode of communication in all parts
of the world without regard to native speech?
Do you know that it is so refined and complete that ser-
mons and lectures are given in it every day, to those who
cannot hear?
Do you know that it is as old as the hills and is largely
used in all public schools? And yet when I ask boys this
question, ‘“‘Do you use the Sign Language?” they nearly
always say ‘‘ No.”
The first question of most persons is “What is it?” It is
a simple method of asking questions and giving answers,
that is talking, by means of the hands. It is used by all the
Plains Indians, and by thousands of white people to-day, in
cities, as well as in the western country, and to an extent
that surprises all when first they come to think of it.
Not long ago I asked a boy whether the policemen on the
crowded streets used Sign Language. He said, “No!” at
least he did not know if they did.
I replied: ‘‘When the officer on Fifth Avenue wishes to
stop all vehicles, what does he do?”
“He raises his hand, flat with palm forward,” was the
reply.
228
Signaling and Indian Signs 229
“Ves, and when he means ‘come on,’ what does he do?”
“He beckons this way.”
“And how does he say ‘go left, go right, go back, come,
hurry up, you get out?’”’ Each of these signs I found was
well known to the boy.
The girls are equally adept and equally unconscious of it.
One very shy little miss—so shy that she dared not
speak — furnished a good illustration of this:
“Do you use the Sign Language in your school?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Do you learn any language but English?”
She nodded.
“What is the use of learning any other than English?”
She raised her right shoulder in the faintest possible shrug.
“Now,” was my reply, ‘‘don’t you see you have already
given me three signs of the Sign Language, which you said
you did not use?”
After collecting popular signs for several years I found
that I had about one hundred and fifty that are in estab-
lished use in the schools of New York City.
Here are some of the better known. Each boy will
probably find that he has known and used them all his
schooldays:
You (pointing at the person);
Me (pointing at one’s self);
Yes (nod);
No (head shake);
Go (move hand forward, palm first);
Come (draw hand toward one’s self, palm in);
Hurry (same, but the hand quickly and energetically
moved several times);
Come for a moment (hand held out back down, fingers
closed except first, which is hooked and straightened
quickly several times);
230 The Book of Woodcraft
Stop (one hand raised, flat; palm forward);
Gently or Go easy (like “stop,” but hand gently waved
from side to side); 3
Good-bye (hand high, flat, palm down, fingers wagged
all together) ;
Up (forefinger pointed and moved upward);
Down (ditto downward);
Silence or hush (forefinger across lips) ;
Listen (flat hand behind ear); q
Whisper (silently move lips, holding flat aed at one
side of mouth);
Friendship (hands clasped);
Threatening (fist shaken at person); |
Warning (forefinger gently shaken at a slight angle
toward person); i
He is cross (forefinger crossed level);
person several times);
Scorn (turning away and throwing an imaginary handful -
of sand toward person); +
Insolent defiance (thumb to nose tip, fingers fully
spread); a
Surrender (both hands raised high and flat to show no
weapons) ; Mf
Crazy (with forefinger make a little circle on forehead
then point to person);
Look there (pointing);
Applause (silently make as though clapping hands);
}
hat) ;
Indifference (a shoulder shrug);
Ignorance (a shrug and headshake combined);
Pay (hand held out half open, forefinger and thumb
r wbbed together) ; j
Signaling and Indian Signs 237
Poverly (both hands turned flat forward near trouser
pockets) ;
Bribe (hand held hollow up behind the back);
Knife (first and second fingers of right hand used as to
whittle first finger of left);
I am thinking it over (forefinger on right brow-and eyes
raised) ;
I forgot (touch forehead with all right finger tips, then
_ draw flat hand past eyes once and shake head);
I send you a kiss (kiss finger tips and move hand in
graceful sweep toward person);
The meal was good (pat stomach);
I beg of you (flat hands tight together and upright);
Upon my honor (with forefingers make a cross over heart) ;
Bar up, fins, or I claim exemption (cross second finger of
right hand on first finger and hold hand up);
Give me (hold out open flat hand pulling it back a little
to finish) ;
I give you (the same, but push forward to finish);
Give me my bill (same, then make motion of writing);
Get up (raise flat hand sharply, palm upward);
Sit down (drop flat hand sharply, palm down);
Rub it out (quickly shake flat hand from side to side,
palm forward);
Thank you (a slight bow, smile and hand-salute, made
by drawing flat hand a few inches forward and downward
palm up);
Do you think me simple? (forefinger laid on side of nose);
Will you? or, is it so? (eyebrows raised and slight bow
made);
Will you come swimming? (first and second fingers raised
and spread, others closed);
Also of course, the points of the compass, and the numer-
als up to twenty or thirty.
232 The Book of Woodcraft
My attention was first directed to the Sign Language in
1882, when I went to live in western Manitoba. There I
found it used among the Crees and Sioux, the latter especi-
ally being expert sign-talkers. Later, I found it a daily
necessity for travel among the natives of New Mexico and
Montana.
One of the best sign talkers I ever met was the Crow In- —
dian, White Swan, who had been one of Custer’s Scouts.
He was badly wounded by the Sioux, clubbed on the head,
and left for dead. He recovered and escaped; but ever
after was deaf and dumb. However sign talk was familiar
to all his people and he was at little disadvantage in day- —
time. From him I received many lessons in Sign Language —
and thus in 1897 began to study it seriously.
Now I wish to teach it to the Scouts. If each of them
would learn to use with precision the one hundred and fifty
schoolboy signs and then add twice as many more, they
would become fairly good sign-talkers. These additional
signs they can find in the “Dictionary of the Sign
Language.””*
Why should you talk the Sign Language? There are
many reasons:
In this code you can talk to any other Scout, without a
outsider knowing or understanding.
It makes conversation easy in places when you must not
speak aloud, as in school, during music, or by the bedside of
the sick.
It is a means of far-signaling much quicker than sema-
phore or other spelling codes, for this gives one or more
words in one sign.
It will enable you to talk when there is too much noise
to be heard, as across the noisy streets.
*To be issued by Doubleday, Page & Co. .
Signaling and Indian Signs 233
It makes it possible to talk to a deaf person.
It is a wonderful developer of observation.
It is a simple means of talking to an Indian or a Scout of
another nationality whose language you do not understand.
This indeed is its great merit. It is universal. It deals not
with words but with ideas that are common to all mankind.
It is therefore a kind of Esperanto already established.
So much for its advantages; what are its weaknesses?
Let us frankly face them:
It is useless in the dark;
It will not serve on the telephone;
It can scarcely be written;
In its pure form it will not give new proper names.
To meet the last two we have expedients, as will be seen,
but the first two are insurmountable difficulties.
Remember then you are to learn the Sign Language be-
cause it is silent, far-reaching, and the one universal language.
Since it deals fundamentally with ideas, we avoid words
and letters, but for proper names it is very necessary to
know the one-hand manual alphabet,
For numbers we use the fingers, as probably did the ear-
liest men who counted.
Yes. The sign for ‘‘yes” is so natural that one can see
it instinctively made if we offer food to a hungry baby.
That is simply a nod. ‘That is if you are near, but far off,
make your right hand with all fingers closed except index
and thumb which are straight and touching at top, advance,
bend toward the left side as though bowing, then returned
and straight again.
No. This also isa natural sign, we can see it if we offer
bitter medicine to a baby. The sign for “No,” when near,
is shake the head; but, when too far for that to be seen, hold
the closed right hand in front of the body, then sweep it
234 The Book of Woodcraft
Signaling and Indian Signs 235
oA
Two Three Four
o 7
Eleven ‘Twenty |
236 The Book of Woodcraft
outward and downward, at the same time turn the palm up
as though throwing something away. ;
Query. The sign for Question — that is, “I am asking
you a question,” “I want to know ”— is much used and
important. Hold up the right hand toward the person,
palm forward, fingers open, slightly curved and spread.
Wave the hand gently by wrist action from side to side.
It is used before, and sometimes after all questions. If you
are very near, merely raise the eyebrows.
The follogade are needed in asking questions:
How Many? First the Question sign, then hold the lett {
hand open, curved, palm
up, fingers spread, then
with right digit quickly tap
each finger of left in suc- /%
cession, closing it back : Sete -¥.
It is, moreover,part of my method to take the boy through
the stages of our race development, just as the young bird
must run for a send-off, before it flies, so pictography being
its earliest form is the natural first step to writing.
Signaling and Indian Signs 241
In general, picture writing aims to give on paper the idea
of the Sign Language without first turning it into sounds.
In the dictionary of Sign Language I give the written form
after each of the signs that has a well established or pos-
sible symbol. Many of these are drawn from the Indians
who were among the best scouts and above all noted for
their use of the picture-writing. A few of them will serve
to illustrate.
Om mn yh Se Syl Sean Onto X
See. © 5 6's
Numbers were originally fingers held up, and five was the
whole hand, while ten was a double hand. We can see
traces of this origin in the Roman style of numeration.
A one-night camp, a more permanent camp, a village and
a town are shown in legible symbols.
An enemy, sometimes expressed as a “‘ snake,” recalls our
own ‘‘snake in the grass.” A “friend,” was a man with a
AS * \
yt Vy
Sy ;
i ay pt
Lay yi
Say )
The picture on the teepee lining, to record Guy’s Exploit
branch of a tree; because this was commonly used as a
flag of truce and had indeed the same meaning as our olive
branch. The “treaty” is easily read; it was a pair of figures
like this done in Wampum that recorded Penn’s Treaty.
“Good” is sometimes given as a circle full of lines all
242
there is good water.
The Book of Woodcraft
straight and level, and for “bad” they are crooked and con-
trary. The wavy lines stood for water, so good water is
clearly indicated. The three arrows added mean that at
three arrow flights in that direction, that is a quarter mile,
If there was but one arrow and it
pointed straight down that meant “good water here,” if
it pointed down and outward it meant “good water at a
little distance.” If the arrow was raised to carry far, it
Level
=———> Direction forward
Direction backward
Sun or day
Sunrise
Sunset
Noon
Night
Day back one, or yes-
terday
Day forward one, or
to-morrow
Moon, or month
Rain
Snow
Year (or snow round to
snow)
slilice
CECE CE CEECEEE
Snow Moon or January
Hunger Moon or Febru-
ary
March the Wakening or
Crow Moon
Grass Moon or April
Planting Moon or May
Rose Moon or June
Thunder Moon or July
Red, Moon or Green
Corn, August
Hunting Moon, Septem-
ber
Leaf - Falling
October
Moon,
Mad Moon, November
Long Night Moon, De-
cember.
Signaling and Indian Signs 243
* Man © Good
x ® baa
Woman
@ . “ ~=- Water
Baby
aN eS) Good water
Scout ee pri Nlane in 3 arrow
0 Scouting vor
cou
& One-night camp
? Question
a More permanent camp
» 4 Yes
RX Village
@) No
SAAK
RX Doubtful Town
: Ax. HH
& Kor i, i fh. eap or many
ig I have found
Kor 2 War
Sa) Bear
Surrender
K =) Grizzly bear
Jt ener on Chipmunk
7 . Enemy Dead bear
Friend i a Treaty of peace
meant good “‘water a long way off there.” This sign was of the
greatest value in the dry country of the southwest. Most
Indian lodges were decorated with pictographs depicting
in some cases the owner’s adventures, at other times his
prayers for good luck or happy dreams.
The old Indian sign for peace, three angles all pointing
one way that is ‘‘agreed,”’ contrasts naturally with the
“war” or “‘trouble” sign, in which they are going different
ways or against each other.
244 The Book of Woodcraft
An animal was represented by a crude sketch in which its
chief character was shown, thus chipmunk was a small
animal with long tail and stripes. Bear was an outline
bear, but grizzly bear, had the claws greatly exaggerated.
When the animal was killed, it was represented on its
back with legs up.
Each chief, warrior and scout had a totem, a drawing of
which stood for his name or for himself.
TRS OA te s AK
A man’s name is expressed by his totem; thus, the above
means, To-day, 2oth Sun Thunder Moon. After three
days “‘Deerfoot,” Chief of the Flying Eagles, comes to our
Standing Rock Camp.
When a man was dead officially or actually, his totem was
turned bottom up.
Here is a copy of the inscription found by Schoolcraft on
the grave post of Wabojeeg, or White Fisher, a famous
Ojibwa chief. He was of the Caribou
clan. On the top is his clan totem re-
versed, and on the bottom the White
Fisher; the seven marks on the left
were war parties he led.
The three marks in the middle are for
wounds. .
The moose head is to record a desperate
fight he had with a bull moose, while his
success in war and in peaceare also stated.
This inscription could be read only by
those knowing the story, and is rather as
a memory help than an exact record.
Signaling and Indian Signs 245
BLAZES AND INDIAN SIGNS — BLAZES
First among the trail signs that are used by Scouts,
_ Indians, and white hunters, and most likely to be of use to
the traveler, are axe blazes on tree trunks. Among these
_ some may vary greatly with locality, but there is one that I
_ have found everywhere in use with scarcely any variation.
_ That is the simple white spot meaning, ‘Here ts the trail.”
_ The Indian in making it may nick off an infinitesimal
speck of bark with his knife, the trapper with his hatchet
_ may make it as big as a dollar, or the settler with his heavy
axe may slab off half the tree-side; but the sign is the same
in principle and in meaning, on trunk, log or branch from
_ Atlantic to Pacific and from Hudson Strait to Rio Grande.
“This is your trail,” it clearly says in the universal language
of the woods.
There are two ways of employing it: one when it appears
on back and front of the trunk, so that the trail can be run
both ways; the other when it appears on but one side of
each tree, making a blind trail, which can be run one way
only, the blind trail is often used by trappers and pros-
pectors, who do not wish any one to follow their back track.
But there are treeless regions where the trail must be
marked; regions of sage brush and sand, regions of rock,
stretches of stone, and level wastes of grass or sedge. Here
other methods must be employed.
A well-known Indian device, in the brush, is to break a
twig and leave it hanging. (Second line.)
Among stones and rocks the recognized sign is one stone
set on top of another (top line) and in places where there is
nothing but grass the custom is to twist a tussock into a
knot (third line).
These signs also are used in the whole country from Maine
to California.
246 The Book of Woodcraft
Signs in Stones
This is the Trait Turn to the Right ‘Turn to the Left. Important Warning
Signs in Twigs
This is the Trail: Turn to the Right Turn tothe Left’ Important Warning
Signs in Grass
f f willy. ne e ty
This is the Trail Tarn to the Right Turn to the Left ‘Important Warning
Signs in Blazes
{fi
Le
mii"
a Turn to the Right’ we he Left Inportant Warning
Code for Smoke Signals |
ee ee
Camp is Here Jam lost. Help! All aM Council
sed by Hu
i
=
Jome Special Blazes u
=U A S LEANN
if
A Trap to ATrap he Campisto Campisfo Special Adirondack Surveyor's
Right Left Right Left Special _—_ Line Here
—)
Signaling and Indian Signs 247
In running a trail one naturally looks straight ahead for
the next sign; if the trail turned abruptly without notice
one might easily be set wrong, but custom has provided
against this. The tree blaze for turn “‘to the right” is shown
in Number 2, fourth row; “‘to the left” in Number 3. The
greater length of the turning blaze seems to be due to a
desire for emphasis as the same mark set square on, is
understood to mean ‘Look out, there is something of
special importance here.”” Combined with a long side chip
it means “‘very important; here turn aside.” This is
often used to mean “camp is close by,” and a third sign
that is variously combined but always with the general
meaning of ‘‘warning”’ or “‘something of great importance”
is a threefold blaze. (No. 4 on fourth line.) The com-
bination (No. 1 on bottom row) would read ‘‘Look out now
for something of great importance to the right.” This
blaze I have often seen used by trappers to mark the where-
abouts of their trap or cache.
Surveyors often use a similar mark — that is, three simple
spots and a stripe to mean, ‘“‘ There is a stake close at hand,”
while a similar blaze on another tree near by means that
the stake is on a line between.
STONE SIGNS
These signs done into stone-talk would be as in the top
line of the cut.
These are much used in the Rockies where the trail goes
over stony places or along stretches of slide-rock.
GRASS AND TWIG SIGNS
In grass or sedge the top of the tuft is made to show the
direction to be followed; if it is a point of great importance
248 The Book of Woodcraft
three tufts are tied, their tops straight if the trail goes
straight on; otherwise the tops are turned in the direction
toward which the course turns.
The Ojibways and other woodland tribes use twigs for
a great many of these signs. (See second row.) The hang-
ing broken twig like the simple blaze means ‘‘This is the
trail.” The twig clean broken off and laid on the ground
across the line of march means, ‘Here break from your
straight course and go in the line of the butt end,” and when
an especial warning is meant, the butt is pointed toward the
one following the trail and raised somewhat, in a forked
twig. If the butt of the twig were raised and pointing to
the left, it would mean “Look out, camp, or ourselves, or
the enemy, or the game we have killed is out that way.”
With some, the elevation of the butt is made to show the
distance of the object; if low the object is near, if raised
very high the object is a long way off.
These are the principal signs of the trail used by Scouts,
Indians, and hunters in most parts of America. ‘These are
the standards — the ones sure to be seen by those who camp
in the wilderness.
SMOKE SIGNALS
There is in addition a useful kind of sign that has
been mentioned already in these papers — that is,
the Smoke Signal. These were used chiefly by the
Plains Indians, but the Ojibways seem to have employed
them at times.
A clear hot fire was made, then covered with green stuff
or rotten wood so that it sent up a solid column of black
smoke. By spreading and lifting a blanket over this
smudge the column could be cut up into pieces long or short,
and by a preconcerted code these could be made to convey
tidings.
Signaling and Indian Signs 249
But the simplest of all smoke codes and the one of chief
use to the Western traveler is this:
One steady smoke — “Here is camp.”
Two steady smokes—‘“‘I am lost, come and help
me.”
I find two other smoke signals, namely:
Three smokes in a row — “Good news.”
Four smokes in a row — ‘‘All are summoned to
council.”
These latter I find not of general use, nor are they so
' likely to be of service as the first two given.
SIGNAL BY SHOTS
The old buffalo hunters had an established signal that is
yet used by the mountain guides. It is as follows:
Two shots in rapid succession, an interval of five seconds
by the watch, then one shot; this means, “‘where are you?”
The answer given at once and exactly the same means
“Here I am; what do you want?” ‘The reply to this may
be one shot, which means, ‘‘All right; I only wanted to
know where you were.” But if the reply repeats the first
it means, ‘‘I am in serious trouble; come as fast as you can.”
SPECIAL SIGNS
A sign much used among the Utes was three flocks of
geese flying one way meaning, ‘“‘All at Peace.” But two
one way and one the other meant, “Look out! there is a
war afoot.”
Another Indian sign was a little heap of stones, meaning
“We camped here because one of us was sick.’”’ This
Originated in the hot stones used for making steam
250 The Book of Woodcraft
in the vapor bath that is so much favored by Indian
doctors.
The Indians sometimes marked a spot of unusual im-
portance by sinking the skull of a deer or a mountain sheep
deep into a living tree, so that the horns hung out on each
side. In time the wood and bark grew over the base of
the horns and ‘“‘medicine tree” was created. Several of
these trees have become of historic importance. A notable
example of this was the big Ramtree that by common con-
sent demarked the hunting grounds of the Blackfeet from
those of the Nez Perces. It was held by these Indians in
religious veneration until some white vandal deliberately
destroyed it by way of a practical joke.
It would be easy to record many other Indian signs; the
sign for the “first crow” of spring; the sign for “buffalo
in sight”; the sign for a “‘war party coming”; the sign that
a certain man “wants the arrows,” that another man owes
him, and the sign that the owner of the teepee is “‘praying
and must not be disturbed.”” But these are things that are
quickly passing away and the Indians themselves are for-
getting them.
Sa ae 5 A a eS ee
Signaling and Indian Signs 251
The most important of the signs used by men of the wil-
derness are herein described. They are interesting as a crude
beginning of literature. The knowledge of such things
appeals to most boys. They find pleasure in learning this
crudest of writing. Furthermore, many a one in the past
has owed his life to an inkling of this woodcraft knowledge,
and there is no reason to doubt that many a wilderness
traveler in the future will find it of equally vital service.
WEATHER SIGNALS
(Adopted for general use by the United States Signal
Service on and after March 1, 1887.)
No. No. No. No. No.
White Flag Blue. Flag Black ‘riangula White Flag White and Pati
Black Centre
OD m@P ff ee
Clear or Fair Rain or Snow Temperature Cold Wave Local Rain or Snow
No. 1, white flag, clear or fair weather, no rain.
No. 2, blue flag, rain or snow.
No. 3, black triangular flag, refers to temperature, and above
Nos. 1 or 2, indicates warmer weather; below No. 1
or 2, colder weather, and when not displayed, station-
ary weather.
No. 4, white flag with black centre (cold wave flag), sudden
fall in temperature; this signal is usually ordered at
least twenty-four hours in advance of the cold wave.
It is not displayed unless a temperature of forty-five
degrees, or less is expected, nor is flag No. 3 ever
displayed with it.
No. 5, means local rain or snow; with 3 above it means with
higher temperature; with 3 below it means lower
temperature.
A red flag with a black centre indicates that a storm of marked
violence is expected.
252 The Book of Woodcraft
DISPLAY EXAMPLES
> eT
Colder. Fair Rain or Snow. Warmer. Fair Cold Wave. Fair
Weather Warmer Weather, followed by Weather
Rain or Snow
STORM AND HURRICANE WARNINGS |
A |
N.E. S.E. N W S. W. Hurri-
Winds. Winds Winds. Winds. cane.
Storm Warnincs.—A red flag with a black centre indicates a storm of marked violence.
The pennants displayed with flags indicate direction of wind—red, easterly; white,
westerly; pennant above flag indicates wind from northerly quadrants; below, from south-
erly quadrants.
By night a red light indicates easterly winds, white light below red, westerly winds.
Two red flags with black centres indicate approach of tropical hurricane.
No night hurricane signals are displayed.
SIGNALS ON THE RAILWAY
Most of us are familiar with some of the signals given by
brakemen, conductors, or engineers, but not so many of us ,
have sat right down to inspect the code, as officially fixed.
A conductor on the Canadian Pacific Railway allowed me
to copy it out from his ‘‘ Trainman’s Book,” 1g09, and since ~
then I have been told that this is the code in universal use,
so I give it in full.
It consists of color signals, hand and lantern signals,
toots, and cord-pulls. It will add a new interest to the
journey, at least when you can read the “‘Signs of the Iron ©
Trail,’ and the ‘‘ Talk of the Iron Horse.”
=. 35. =
Signaling and Indian Signs 253
THE CODE
(From C. P. R. “Trainman’s Book,” 1909, No. 7563; but in
general use.)
Colors:
Red = Siop.
Green — Go ahead.
Yellow = Go cautiously.
Green and White — Flag station. stop at night.
Blue = Workmen busy under car.
Hand, Flag and Lamp Signals:
Swung across track Stop.
Raised and lowered vertically Go ahead.
Swung at half-arms’ length, in small
circle across track, train standing Back up.
Swung vertically in a big circle, at
arms’ length across the track,
when train is running Train broken in two.
Swung horizontally above head,
when train is standing Fut on air-brakes.
Held at arms’ length above the head,
when train is standing Release air-brakes.
Other Hand Signals, modifications of the above:
Hand (or hands) held out horizon-
tally and waved up and down Go ahead.
Hand (or hands) suddenly drawn
flat and horizontal Stop.
Sometimes hands raised and held
palms forward All right.
Arm thrust forward and swept back
toward opposite shoulder, as in
beckoning Come back.
Signals by Engine Whistle:
(o a short toot. — a long one)
== Stop; put on brakes.
= Take off brakes; get ready to start.
254 The Book of Woodcraft i
— 000 == Flagman go out toprotect rear oftrain. __
_--—--_-_ == Flagman return from west or south.
—_—_—-—_ -_— == Flagman return from east or north.
—_-—— = (when running) Train broken in two.
To be repeated till answered by the same
from the trainman, i. e., No. 4 in hand,
flag and lamp signals. Similarly, this
is the answer to No. 4 of hand, flag and
lamp signals.
oo = (all right) the answer to any signal not
otherwise provided for.
= (when the train is standing) back up; also
is the reply to signals to “back up.”
fe)
re)
re)
oooo = Call for signals.
—oo = Calls attention of other trains to signals.
oo = The acknowledgment by other trains.
—-—oo — Approaching grade-crossings, and at whis-
tle posts.
— — Approaching stations. ;
o—— =—(when double-heading) Air-brakes have
failed on leading engine, and second |
engine is to take control of them. Sec-
ond engine repeats same as soon as it
has control.
0000000000, etc. = Cattle (or persons) on the track.
Air-whistle or Cord-pull:
When the train is standing: °
Two blasts = Start.
‘Three -"\ve= Baek,
Four ‘“ = Put on or take off brakes.
Five “ = Call in flagman.
When the train is running:
(All but the 2nd are answered by 2 blasts)
Two blasts = Stop at once.
Three “ = Stop at next station.
Pours, 7 = dveduce soeee,
a>
Signaling and Indian Signs 255
Five ‘“ = Increase speed.
Six ‘¢ = Increase steam-heat.
[ven =
Release air-brakes, or sticking brake.
The engineer responds to these with two short toots, meaning
“All right,” except in the second, when the engineer answers in
three short toots.
X. Campercraft or The Summer
Camp
Camping Out
it is that he gets the best chance to practise the
things that are peculiar to scouting; and camping
out is the only complete outdoor life.
When a boy, I was of course eager for a chance to camp
out, but I had a very wrong idea about it. I believed that
one must undergo all sorts of hardships, in order to be really
“doing it’’; such as, sleep on the ground with one blanket,
go without proper food, etc. I know some boys that were
injured for life by such practices.
It is well, then, to keep in mind that camping out offers
a number of priceless benefits, and is also beset by one or
two dangers. Let us aim to get all the good and avoid all the
ill.
The good things are: The pure air, especially at night;
the bracing and lung-healing power of the woods; the sun
bath; the tonic exercise; and the nerve rest.
The bad things are: The danger of rheumatism from
sleeping on the ground, or in damp clothes; the exhaustion
from bad nights, through insufficient bed-clothes or an
uncomfortable bed; and the dangers arising from irregular
meals and badly cooked food.
I have seen boys go back from an ill-run camp, tired out
and but little benefitted; whereas, if properly guided, every
256
iti boy looks forward to camping out. Then
Campercraft or The Summer Camp = 257
camp-out should mean a new spell of life — a fresh start in
vigor for every one concerned.
Many mothers ask with fear, ‘“‘Won’t my boy catch
cold, if he camps out?” This is the last and least of dan-
gers. Almost never does one catch cold in camp. I have
found it much more likely that boys suffer through irregular
hours of eating and sleeping; but these are troubles that the
camp discipline is designed to meet.
The great evil that campers should beware of, is of course
rheumatism. But none need suffer if they will take the
_ simple precaution of changing their wet clothes when not in
action, and never sleeping directly on the ground. A warm,
_ dry place for the bed should be prepared in every tent and
- teepee.
As arule, it is better to go on a trip with a definite object.
If you go with a general vague determination to get healthy,
you are likely to think too much about it. It is better to
live correctly, and safely assume that you will be healthier
for the trip. To illustrate: One of my trips was made to
‘determine the existence of Wood Buffalo on the Great
Slave River; another to prove that the Canadian Fauna
reached the Lake of the Woods. Some of my friends have
made trips to win the badge of expert canoe-man; others for
the camper badge, and so forth, and I think it best to go a
long way from home. Get as complete a change as possible.
OUIFIT FOR A PARTY OF SIX (CAMPING ONE WEEK IN
FIXED CAMP)
1 12-foot teepee (if for cold weather), accommodating
five or six men not forgetting a storm-cap,
Or, in summer, a Io x 12 wall tent.
18 x 10 awning for kitchen and dining-room, in hot or
wet weather.
258 The Book of Woodcraft
5 yards mosquito-bar and some dope for stinging-insects.
3 or 4 one-gallon bags of cotton for supplies.
A few medicines and pill-kit or ‘‘first aid,” including cold
cream for sunburn.
t strong clothes line; bali of cord; ball twine; of ball of
strong linen pack-thread.
Axe)
A sharp hatchet.
Claw-hammer.
Whetstone.
Small crosscut saw.
Spade.
File.
Packing needles and sewing-kit for repairing clothes.
Nails: One lb. of 134, two Ibs. of 23, two lbs. of 33, and
one lb. of 5-inch.
Pocket tool outfit (A, K, and B is good)
Soap.
Mirror.
Toilet-paper.
Waterproof match-box.
Book of Woodcraft
Mlockers) |
Cooking outfit: Either a ready-made, self-nesting ‘‘Buzza-
cot,-0r
3 cover-kettles, 1o-qt., 4-qt., and 2-qt. (riveted, not
soldered).
2 frying-pans, with handles and covers,
2 big spoons.
Coffee strainer.
1 Dutch oven.
I wire grill.
2 bake-pans.
1 butcher knife.
Campercraft or the Summer Camp 259
Salt and pepper casters.
Tin boxes to hold stock of same.
2 folding buckets.
2 folding wash-basins.
Dishpan.
Tea-pot (riveted).
Coffee-pot (riveted).
Dishcloths and towels.
Soap.
Folding lantern and supply of candles.
4 flat steel rods to cook on.
And for each man, plate, cup, saucer, and porringer
(preferably enameled); also knife, fork, and spoon.
And such other things as are dictated by previous experi-
ence, or for use in the games to be played.
Besides which each member has. his ordinary clothes,
with a change, and toilet-bag, also:
A rubber blanket.
2 wool blankets.
r cotton or burlap bed-tick, 23 x 6} ft.
Swimming-trunks.
A pair of brown sneaks.
A war-sack of waterproof.
Khaki suit.
Fishing tackle and guns, according to choice.
Pocket knife.
Food to last six fellows one week:
Ue ar eee cy ime | 9
PG ee oo as WR ee LAS
eS eel NS a aa te aE 3 WES | aie
MEER a} en hink Vetta MAL Thiet Re) Ca
260 The Book of Woodcraft
Tea 2 |b.
Coffee 3. ols:
Lard . . 5). Hogs
SURAT oe PE CI See eee eee nee
Condensed.milki:) 2 i eon ie
Butter 7 | ise
Eggs . 3 dozen
Bacon rs iave as ee ae ee
Preserves 5 tise
Prunes 3°; ollpse
Maple syrup . 3 quarts
Cheese tA paige
Raisins 3 ules
Potatoes . + bushel
White beans . 3 quarts
Canned corn . 3 «tins
Flour vis 25 dbs:
Baking-powder . x) 7s
Concentrated soups 3 ib
Salt 2° Tbs
Pepper I ounce
Fresh fish and game are pleasant variations, but seem to
make little difference in the grocery bill.
OUTFIT FOR EACH BRAVE
t good 5-foot lancewood bow, complete with string.
6 standard arrows, 25 in. long, 3 feathers, steel points.
I quiver of waterproof canvas or leather.
1 arm-guard.
1 head-band.
I pair moccasins or ‘‘sneaks.”’
1 waterproof blanket.
2 Indian blankets of gray wool.
Campercraft or the Summer Camp 261
TENTS
There are many styles of small tents on the market; al-
most any of them answer very well. For those who wish to
equip themselves with the latest and best, a 10 x 12-foot wall
tent of ro-ounce double-filled army duck, stained or dyed
yellow, brown, or dull green, is best. It will accommodate
a party of five or six.
For tramping trips, light tents of waterproof silk are
made. One large enough for a man weighs only two or
three pounds.
Any of the established makers can supply what is needed
if they know the size of the party and nature of the outing.
TEEPEES
The Indian teepee has the great advantage of ventilation
and an open fire inside. It has the disadvantage of needing
a lot of poles and of admitting some rain by the smoke-hole.
(It is fully described on page 444.)
A new style of teepee, invented by myself some years
ago, has been quite successful, since it combines the advan-
tage of teepee and tent and needs only four poles besides
the smoke-poles. It is, however, less picturesque than the
old style.
This gives the great advantage of an open fire inside, and
good ventilation, while it is quite rainproof.
262 The Book of Woodcraft
It can be put up with four long poles outside the can-
vas, the holes crossing at the top as in the Indian teepee.
Of course the point of the cover is attached before the
poles are raised.
It may be got from D. T. Abercrombie & Co., 311 Broad-
way, New York.
THE CAMP GROUND
In selecting a good camp ground, the first thing is a dry,
level place near good wood and good water. If you have
horses or oxen, you must also have grass.
Almost all Indian camps face the east, and, when ideal,
have some storm-break or shelter on the west and north.
Then they get the morning sun and the afternoon shade in
summer, and in winter avoid the coldest winds and drifting
snows, which in most of the country east of the Rockies
come from the north and west.
Sometimes local conditions make a different exposure
desirable, but not often. For obvious reasons, it is well to
be near one’s boat-landing.
After pitching the tent or teepee, dig a trench around,
with a drain on the low side to prevent flooding.
LATRINE
Each small camp or group of tents in a large camp, must
have a latrine, that is a sanitary ditch or hole. For a small
camp or short use, this is a narrow trench a foot wide, sur-
rounded by a screen of bushes or canvas. It is made nar-
row enough to straddle. Each time after use, a shovelful
of dry earth is thrown in.
But a large camp needs the regulation army latrine.
This is a row of seats with lids over a long trench which has
a layer of quicklime in the bottom. The wooden structure
Campercraft or the Summer Camp 263
is banked up so no flies can get in. The lids are down tight
when the seat is not in use. A shovelful of quicklime is
then thrown in after each occasion. A running trough ‘s
arranged along side so it is tributary to the main trench;
this also is kept coated with quicklime. The place should
be thoroughly screened, but is as well without a roof
except over the seats.
All camps should be left as clear of filth, scraps, papers,
tins, bottles. etc., as though a human being had never been
there. .
ARRIVING ON THE CAMP GROUND
As soon as all are on the ground, with their baggage, let
the Leader allot the places of each band or clan. Try to
have each and every dwelling-tent about 25 feet from the
next, in a place dry and easy to drain in case of rain and so
placed as to have sun in the morning and shade in the after-
noon.
Each group is responsible for order up to the halfway line
between them and the next group.
Loose straw, tins, papers, bottles, glass, filth, etc., out
of place are criminal disorder.
Pitch at a reasonable distance from the latrine, as well
as from the water supply.
As much as possible, have each band or clan by itself.
As soon as convenient, appoint fellows to dig and pre-
pare a latrine or toilet, with screen.
All will be busied settling down, so that usually there is
no methodic work the first day.
But the second day it should begin.
CAMP OFFICERS AND GOVERNMENT
After the routine of rising, bathing, breakfast, etc., there
should be called at eight o’clock a High Council. That is, a
264 The Book of Woodcraft
Council of all the Leaders, Old Guides or Medicine Men,
and Head Chief; that is, the Chief of the whole camp,
appointed for that day. He i is the Chief in charge, or Head
Man of the village. It is his duty to appoint all other officers —
for the day, and to inspect the camp. In some camps this
High Council meets at night when the younger members are
asleep.
The other officers are:
Assistant Chief in Charge, who goes about with the Chief
and succeeds him, next day.
Keeper of the Milk and the Ice-box, when there is ice for
the milk.
Keeper of the Letters. He takes all letters to the post and
brings back all mail.
Keeper of the Canoes. No boats may be taken without
his sanction, and he is responsible for the same.
Keeper of the Garbage. He must gather up and destroy all
garbage each day at a given hour; preferably late afternoon.
Keeper of the Latrine. He must inspect hourly, and see
that all keep the rules.
Keeper of the Campfire. He must have the wood cut and
laid for the Council-fire at night, with an extra supply for
all the evening, and must keep the Council-fire bright, not
big; but never dull.
Also, the High Council should appoint a Tally Keeper for
the Was camp; he is to serve throughout the whole period
of the encampments, keeping the records for every day.
Sometimes the work is divided, but one fellow can do it
better, if he is willing.
A band or clan prize for the whole term is always offered.
The competition for this is judged by points, and for each
of the above services to the camp, the band, to which the ©
scout belongs, gets up to 25 points day, according to his
efficiency.
Campercraft or the Summer Camp 265
No fellow should leave camp without permission. If he
does so, he may cause his Band to lose points.
THE DOG SOLDIERS
In every large camp it is found well to follow the Indian
custom in forming a Lodge of Dog Soldiers. These are a
band of eight or ten of the strongest and sturdiest fellows.
They act as police when needed, but wear no badge. They
must at once run to any place where the signal (a loud bay-
ing) is heard, and act promptly and vigorously.
When the Chief has selected the huskies he wishes to have
in the Dog Lodge, he invites all to meet secretly in some
quiet teepee at night, explains the purpose and adds ‘‘I
have called on you who are here. If any do not wish to
serve, now is the time to retire.”
The sacred fire is lighted in the middle, all stand in a ring
about it, each with his right hand on a war club above the
fire, his left holding a handful of ashes. Then all repeat
this vow:
“As a Dog Soldier I pledge the might of my manhood to
the cause of law and justice in this Camp for the term of the
Camp or until released by the Chief, and if at any time I
fail in my duty through fear entering into my heart, may I
be dropped, scorned and forgotten like these ashes.”
Then he scatters the ashes.
It is customary for each Tribe to adopt further a secret
sign and password, which is taught to the Dog Soldiers as a
finish.
INSPECTION
Every day there is an inspection. It is best in the
middle of the morning. The Chief and his second go from
266 The Book of Woodcraft
tent to tent. Each Clan is allowed 50 points for normal, .
then docked 1 to 10 points for each scrap of paper, tin, or
rubbish left lying about; also for each disorderly feature or
neglect of the rules of common sense, decency or hygiene,
on their territory; that is, up to halfway between them
and the next group. They may get additional points for
extra work or inventions, or unusual services for the public
good; but it is always as a Clan that they receive the points,
though it was the individual that worked for them.
After the inspection, the Chief announces the winning
Band or Clan saying: “‘The Horns of the High Hikers were
won to-day by . . . . . Band.” And the horns are
accordingly hung on their standard, pole or other place, for
the day. At the end of the camp, provided ten were present
for at least a fortnight, Clan or Band that won them
oftenest carries them home for their own; and ever after-
ward are allowed to put in one corner of their banner a
small pair of black horns.
The Wolf Band banner p. 77 shows that they have twice
captured the horns.
THE HORNS OF THE HIGH HIKERS
What are they? Usually a pair of polished
buffalo horns with a fringed buckskin hanger,
on which is an inscription saying that they
were won by « . . . «Band at suer
a camp.
When buffalo horns cannot be got, common
cow horns or even horns of wood are used.
COUNCIL-FIRE CIRCLE
In every large permanent camp I establish a proper
Council-fire Circle or Council Camp. The uses and
Campercraft or the Summer Camp 267
benefits of these will be seen more and more, as camp
- goes on.
For the Council-fire Circle, select a sheltered, level place
that admits of a perfectly level circle 40 feet across; 30 feet
has been used, but more room gives better results. On
the outer rim of this, have a permanently fixed circle of very
low seats; 6 inches is high enough, but they should have a
back, and for this, the easiest style to make is that marked
K. L. on page 457. Each Band or Clan should make its own
seat, and always go there in Grand Council. On the back
of the seat should be two loops of wire or string in which to
put their standard. Back of the first row should be a
slightly higher row. If the ground slopes up, all the better,
but in any case there should be fixed seats enough for all the
camp. The place should be carefully leveled and pre-
pared, and kept always in order, for it will be used several
times each day, either for councils or for games, dances and
performances. ;
At one side of the ring in a conspicuous place should be
the throne of the Chief (p. 457); close by this a desk and
seat for the Tally Keeper and on the desk should be a lan-
tern holder; in the exact middle of the ring is the Council-
fire, never a bonfire.
- TOTEM-POLE
Directly opposite the Chief’s throne, on the outer edge of
the camp, should be the Totem-pole. This I always set up
as soon as possible in all permanent camps. Its purpose is,
rst, to typify the movement; 2nd, to display the Totems of
all the Tribes, or Bands that camp here; 3rd, to serve as a
place of notice. Any document posted on the Totem-pole
is considered published.
268 The Book of Woodcraft
~—)
WHA
Y
y
Z
a Totem-pole of the Sinawa Tribe (15 feet high)
b of Flying Eagles
c and d from Niblack’s West Coasts Indians. Eagles and Bears
COUNCILS
Three kinds of Councils are held in the Council Place:
1. The High Council of the Chiefs and the Old Guides
every morning at 8 o’clock, and at other times when called.
2. The General or Common Council of all the fellows
every night from seven to nineo’clock. At this we have
some business (in the awarding of honors), some campfire
stunts or challenges, and a little entertainment.
3. Grand Council. This is usually held once a week.
Every one comes in full Scout or Indian dress. Visitors
are invited. Business except when very interesting is ©
dispensed with, and a program of sports and amusements,
chiefly for the visitors, is carefully prepared. This is
“‘Strangers’ Night” and they should be entertained. not
bored.
Campercraft or the Summer Camp 269
BEDS
Of all things, the camper’s bed is the thing most often
made wrong, and most easily made right, when one knows
how; and of all things comfort at night is most essential.
Every dealer in camp outfits can produce an array of
different camp beds, cots, and sleeping bags, that shows
how important it is to be dry and warm when you sleep.
The simplest plan is the oldest one — two pair of blankets
and waterproof undersheet on a neatly laid bed of evergreen
boughs, dry leaves, or dry grass. The ideal way of laying
the boughs is shown in the figure below.
When I can’t get grub of the Broadway sort,
Pll fatten on camper’s fare,
Pll tramp all day and at night resort
To a bed boughed down with care.
But there are few places now
in eastern America where you
are allowed to cut boughs freely.
In any case you cannot take the
bough bed with you when you
move, and it takes too much
time to make at each camp.
Sleeping bags I gave up long
ago. They are too difficult to
air, or to adjust to different
temperatures.
Rubber beds are luxurious,
but heavy for a pack outfit, and
in cold weather they need thick
blankets over them, otherwise
they are too cool.
So the one ideal bed for the
270 The Book of Woodcraft
camper, light, comfortable, and of wildwood stuff, is the
Indian or willow bed, described on p 471.
WATER, OR THE INDIAN WELL
If there is swamp or pond, but no pure water at hand,
you can dig an Indian well in half an hour. This is simply
a hole about 18 inches across and down about 6 inches
below water-level, a few paces from the pond. Bail it out
quickly; let it fill again, bail it a second time, and the third
time it fills, it will be full of filtered water, clear of every-
thing except matter actually dissolved.
It is now well known that ordinary vegetable matter does
not cause disease. All contamination is from animal refuse
or excreta, therefore a well of this kind in a truly wild region
is as safe as a spring.
MOSQUITOES, BLACK FLIES, ETC.
If you are camping in mosquito or fly season, the trip may
be ruined, if you are not fully prepared.
For extreme cases, use the ready-made head-nets. They
are hot, but effectual. You can easily get used to the net;
no man can stand the flies. In my Arctic trip of 1907, we
could not have endured life without the nets. Indians and
all wore them.
Of the various dopes that are used, one of the simplest
and best is Colonel N. Fletcher’s, given in Kephart’s “‘ Book
of Camping and Woodcraft”’:
“Pure pine’ tar.) G")..) 4.9) 9
Oil pennyroyal 2.0". 2)... eee
Vaseline... 2 8a
Mix cold in a mortar. If you wish, you can add 3 per
cent. carbolic acid to above. Some make it 14 ozs. tar.”
Campercraft or the Summer Camp 271
Most drug shops keep ready-made dopes under such
names as Citronella, Repellene, Lollakapop, etc.
LICE AND VERMIN
In certain crowded camps there is danger of head lice and
body vermin. I have heard washing in potato water
recommended as a sure cure. Potato water is the water
potatoes have been boiled in. Most drug shops have
tobacco ointment and blue ointment; a very little of these
applied to the body where there is hair is a sure cure.
SUGGESTED CAMP ROUTINE
6:30 A.M. Turn out, bathe, etc.
7:00 Breakfast.
8:00 Air bedding in sun, if possible
8:15 High Council of Leaders.
9:00 Scouting games and practice.
11:00 Swimming.
12:00 M. Dinner.
1:00 P.M. ‘Talk by leader.
2:00 Games, etc.
6:00 Supper.
7 100 Evening Council.
10:00 Lights out.
Sometimes High Council for a few minutes
instead of in the morning.
CAMPFIRES
The day Columbus landed (probably) the natives re-
marked; ‘“‘White man fool, make big fire, can’t go near;
Indian make little fire and sit happy.”
aye The Book of Woodcraft
We all know that a camp without a campfire would be
no camp at all; its chiefest charm would be absent.
Your first care, then, is to provide for a small fire and pre-
vent its spreading. In the autumn this may mean very
elaborate clearing, or burning, or wetting of a space around
the fire. In the winter it means nothing.
Cracked Jimmy, in “Two Little Savages,” gives very
practical directions for lighting a fire anywhere in the
timbered northern part of America, thus:
“First a curl of burch bark as dry as it can be,
Then some twigs of soft wood, dead, but on the tree,
Last of all some pine-knots to make the kittle foam,
And there’s a fire to make you think you're settin’ right at
home.”
If you have no birch bark, it is a good plan to shave a dry
soft-wood stick, leaving all the shavings sticking on the end
in a fuzz, like a Hopi prayer stick. Several of these make a
sure fire kindler. Fine splinters may be made quickly by
hammering a small stick with the back of the axe.
In the case of a small party and hasty camp, you need
nothing but a pot hanger of green wood for a complete
f 35 ee Gee :
kitchen, and many hundreds of times, on prairie and in
forest, I found this sufficient.
Campercraft or the Summer Camp* 273
A more complete camp grate is made of four green logs
(aspen preferred), placed as in the illustration. Set the top
logs 3 inches apart at
one end, 10 inches at
the other. The top logs
should be flattened in
the middle of their top
sides — to hold the pot
which sits on the open-
ing between the top logs.
_ The fire of course is
built on the ground, under the logs. Sometimes stones
of right size and shape are used instead of the logs, but
_ the stones do not contribute anything to the heat and are
less manageable.
Green log grate
In addition to this log grate, more elaborate camps have
a kitchen equipped with a hanger as below, on which are
pot hooks of green wood.
In wet weather, an axeman can always get dry wood by
274 The Book of Woodcraft
cutting into a standing dead tree, or on
the under side of down timber that is not
entirely on the ground.
On the prairies and plains, since buffalo
chips are no more, we use horse and cow
chips, kindled with dry grass and roots of
sage-brush, etc.
To keep a fire alive all night, bank the
coals: i. e., bury them in ashes.
Always put out the fire on leaving camp.
It is a crime to leave a burning fire.
Use buckets of water if need be.
COUNCIL-FIRE
The Council-fire is a very different thing from the cooking
fire or the so-called bonfire. And there are just as many
ways of making it wrong.
These are the essentials:
It must be easily started.
It must give a steady, bright light.
It must have as little heat as possible, for it is mostly
used in the summer. Therefore, it must be small.
It is best built as in (c), about two and one half feet
high; the bottom stick about three feet long; the rest shorter
and smaller.
The small wood and chips to light it can be put either
under or on top of the second layer.
It should be drawn in toward the top, so as to burn with-
out falling apart.
It must contain a large proportion of dry, winter-seasoned
wood, if itis to blaze brightly. The readiest seasoned wood
is usually old lumber. -
Campercraft or the Summer Camp 275
For an all-evening Council-fire, at least three times as
- much should be in stock as on the fire when started.
Here are some wrong methods.
_The high pyramid or bonfire, (a) goes off like a flash,
roasts every one, then goes dead.
The shapeless pile (b), is hard to light and never bright.
9:
The bonfire is always bad. It wastes good wood; is
dangerous to the forest and the camp; is absolutely un-
sociable. A bonfire will spoil the best camp-circle ever got
together. It should be forbidden everywhere.
FIREARMS
Experience shows that it is unwise to have firearms in
camp. And no one under fourteen years of age should be
allowed the use of a gun or pistol under any circumstances.
The didn’t-know-it-was-loaded fool is the cause of more
sorrow than the deliberate murderer.
For any one to point a firearm at another is a crime. If
_he didn’t know it was loaded, he should be still more
severely punished.
Never let the muzzle of the gun sweep the horizon.
Never carry a gun full-cock or hammer down. The half-
cock is made for safety. Use it.
Never pull a gun by the muzzle.
Never shoot at anything about which you are in doubt.
276 The Book of Woodcraft
CAMP COOKERY
(See Horace Kephart’s “‘Book of Camping and Wood-
craft.”’)
In most camps the staples are: Coffee (or tea),
bacon, game, fish and hardtack, bannocks or biscuit,
usually and most appropriately called “‘sinkers” and
*“damper.”’
To make these necessary evils, take
1 pint flour.
1 teaspoonful of baking-powder,
Half as much salt,
Twice as much grease or lard,
With water enough to make into paste, say one half a
pint.
When worked into smooth dough, shape it into wafers,
half an inch thick, and three inches across. Set ina greased
tin, which is tilted up near a steady fire. Watch and turn
the tin till all are browned evenly.
For other and better but more elaborate methods of
making bread, see Kephart’s book as above.
For cooking fish and game the old, simple standbys are
the frying-pan and the stew-pan.
As a general rule, mix all batters, mush, etc., with cold
water, and always cook with a slow fire.
There is an old adage:
Hasty cooking is tasty cooking.
Fried meat is dried meat.
Boiled meat is spoiled meat.
Roast meat is best meat.
This reflects perhaps the castle kitchen rather than the
camp, but it has its measure of truth, and the reason why
"
Campercraft or the Summer Camp = 277
roast meat is not more popular is because it takes so much
a time and trouble to make it a success.
During my Barren Ground trip I hit on a remarkably
successful roaster that, so far as I know, was never tried
before.
The usual pot-stick is set in the ground (if no tree be
near), and the roast hung by a wire and a cord; where they
=
Heres ec 8 Seas
Camp-roaster
meet is a straight or flat piece of wood, or bark, set in a loop
of the wire.
The wind strikes on this, causing the roast to turn;
it goes till the cord is wound up then unwinds itself
and goes on unceasingly. We used it every day. It
was positively uncanny to see the way in which this
‘thing kept on winding and unwinding itself, all day long,
if need be.
278 The Book of Woodcraft
WAR-SACK
Every brave in camp should havea war-sack. This is a
sack of waterproofed canvas to hold clothing and anything
that is unbreakable. It has several advantages over a
trunk. Itis cheap ($1.50), waterproof, light, a comfortable
pack to carry or to stow in a canoe, collapsible when empty,
safe to float in an upset, and at night it serves as a pillow.
Its disadvantages are that it will not protect breakables,
and you have to take out most of the things to find an article
not on the top. Nevertheless, all old campers use the war-
sack. They can be had of any camp outfitter.
SCOUT BUTTONS
On the Plains, when a button is lost or needed, it is easy
to make one of leather. Usually a piece of an old strap is
isused. Cut it the right size, make two holes in it, and sew
it on as an ordinary button. This never breaks or fails.
As the old plainsman who first showed me, said, “‘ There’s
a button that’ll be right there when the coat’s all wore away
from behind it.”
o Piso Showing how a lace may be
iA ; cut from & small fiece H
i of leather y
| ‘ase
\ \
_ lit Hil
YEN as ei
Reni f f \ \ \ Bultons made of
Po ohiad ND
y H :
‘ / ¢ ( :
ys
Campercraft or the Summer Camp 279
LACE OR THONG
If you need a lace or thong and have no leather long
enough, take a square piece, round the corners, then
cut it round and round, till it is all used up. Pull and
roll the thong produced, until it is small and even, with-
out kinks.
XI. Games for the Camp
Interesting Pursuits
essential to exercise as relish is to digestion. And for
this reason have no use for the Indian clubs or dumb-
bells. An ideal exercise is in the open air, employing not
only every member vigorously—not violently — but
also the faculties including the great codrdinating power
that is the crowning gift of the athlete — the power to
make all parts play the game in the measure needed to
secure the best total result.
How needful is it then to have interesting pursuits that
inspire the Scout to do and be his very best.
The appeal to the imagination that is assumed by such
games as Spear-throwing and Dispatch-runner is the great-
est and most elevating of all. Without some such magical
power, no fellow really does the best that is in him. It
makes a live wire of every fibre in his make-up.
| HAVE always taken the ground that interest is as
TILTING SPEARS
A simple and useful part of the patrol outfit that should
be made ready before going into camp is a supply of tilting-
spears. I have seen a good many campers try tilting in the
water or on the land, and make an utter failure of it, by
reason of the absurdly clumsy, heavy spears used. A green
280
Games for the Camp 281
sapling was cut for handle, and the end tied up in a bundle
of rags that was 18 inches through. This was hard enough
to lift, when dry, and as it usually soon fell into the water,
and got sopping wet, its weight became trebled, and one
could not use it as a spear at all.
The correct spears always used in our camps are made
thus: Take 8 feet of the butt-end of an ordinary bamboo
fishing-rod — or, if anything, a little heavier than ordinary.
Get a 2-inch plank of any light wood, and from this cut a
disk 3 inches across, bevel off and round the edges. Bore a
hole (about 2 inch) in the middle,
and put this on the top of the
bamboo, so that it sets against
a shoulder or knot. Drive a
circular plug in the hollow of
the bamboo for a wedge, and <——=—
make all secure with one or two \j/RPS
‘ ~ 3 : Wy Fimishecl Head
very thin nails driven in (No. 7). a No
Now pad the head an inch
thick with the ordinary horsehair stuffing that is used in
furniture, and bind all with strong burlap, sewing it at the
seams, and lashing it around the bamboo with string (No. 8).
This completes the dry land spear. If for use in the water,
make a final cover out of rubber cloth. This keeps the
_ spear dry. A completed spear weighs about 14 lbs.
_ Each band should have a half-dozen of these spears.
_ They serve a number of purposes, some of them quite dif-
_ ferent from that originally intended.
TILTING IN THE WATER
When used in the water, the ordinary rules of canoe-
tilting are followed. Each spearman stands in the bow of
his boat, on the bow-seat. His crew bring him within 8
282 The Book of Woodcraft
feet of his rival, and now he endeavors to put him over-
board. Points are reckoned thus:
Forcing your enemy to put one foot down off
the seat) ety Aa
Forcing your enemy to put two feet down off
the seat. o/b ae alist er
Forcing yourenemyononeknee. . . 5
Forcing your enemy down on two knees_ 10
Forcing your enemy to lose his spear . 10
Forcing your enemy overboard . . . 25
It is a foul to strike below the knee, or to use the spear as
a club.
The umpire may dock up to 25 points for fouls.
When canoes are used, the spearman stands on the bot-
tom, so all points are by loss of spear, or by going over-
board.
TUB-TILTING ON LAND
But by far the most of the tilting is done on land, around
the campfire. For this we use two barrels, about flour
barrel size. These are set level, exactly a spear length
apart, centre to centre.
Each fighter takes his place on a barrel, and his game is
to put the other off the other barrel. To prevent acci-
dents, we have usually a catcher behind each man. The
umpire stands alongside, near the middle.
It is a foul to use the spear as a club, or to push below
the knees, or to push the barrel, or to seize the other man’s
spear in your hand.
A foul gives the round to the other man.
The round is over when one man is off.
It is a draw when both go off together.
They change barrels and spears after each round.
Games for the Camp 283
If one drops his spear, and recovers it without going off,
it is all right.
The battle is usually for 5, 7, or 11 rounds.
I do not know of any good thrusts having been invented,
but several good parries are well known. One is to use
your spear-handle as a single stick. The best players
parry much by wriggling the body. Often, when over-
balanced, one can regain by spinning completely around.
So much for the game. It is immensely popular at night
by the blazing campfire, and is especially used in initiations.
STILL-HUNTING THE BUCK, OR THE DEER-HUNT
The deer is a dummy, best made with a wire frame, on
which soft hay is wrapped till it is of proper size and shape,
then all is covered with open burlap. A few touches of
white and black make it very realistic.
lA fah hk—————
= SSS
If time does not admit of a well-finished deer, one can
be made of a sack stuffed with hay, decorated at one
end with a smaller sack for head and neck, and set on
four thin sticks.
284 The Book of Woodcraft
The side of the deer is marked with a large oval, and over
the heart is a smaller one.
Bows and arrows only are used to shoot this deer.
A pocketful of corn, peas, or other large grain is now
needed for scent. The boy who is the deer for the first
hunt takes the dummy under his arm and runs off, getting
ten minutes’ start, or until he comes back and shouts
‘“‘ready!”” He leaves a trail of corn, dropping two or three
grains for every yard and making the trail as crooked as he
likes, playing such tricks as a deer would do to baffle his
pursuers. Then he hides the deer in any place he fancies,
but not among rocks or on the top of a ridge, because in one
case many arrows would be broken, and in the other, lost.
The hunters now hunt for this
deer just as for a real deer, either
following the trail or watching the
woods ahead; the best hunters
combine the two. If at any time
the trail is quite lost the one in
charge shouts ‘‘ Lost Trail!”’ After
that the one who finds the trail
scores wo. Any one giving a false
alarm by shouting “‘ Deer”’ is fined
jive.
Thus they go till some one finds
the deer. He shouts ‘‘ Deer!’’ and scores ten for finding it. —
The others shout “‘ Second,” “‘ Third,” etc., in order of seeing —
it, but they do not score. :
The finder must shoot at the deer with his bow and arrow
from the very spot whence he saw it. If he misses, the
second hunter may step up five paces, and have his shot.
If he misses, the third one goes five, and so on till some one
hits the deer, or until the ten-yard limit is reached. If the
finder is within ten yards on sighting the deer, and misses
Games for the Camp 285
his shot, the other hunters go back to the ten-yard limit.
Once the deer is hit, all the shooting must be from the exact
spot whence the successful shot was fired.
A shot in the big oval is a body wound; that scores five.
A shot outside that is a scratch; that scores two. A shot
in the small oval or heart is a heart wound; it scores ten,
and ends the hunt. Arrows which do not stick do not
count, unless it can be proved that they passed right
through, in which case they take the highest score that they
pierced.
If all the arrows are used, and none in the heart, the deer
escapes, and the boy who was deer scores twenty-five.
The one who found the dummy is deer for the next hunt.
A clever deer can add greatly to the excitement of the
game.
Originally we used paper for scent, but found it bad. It
littered the woods, yesterday’s trail was confused with that
of to-day, etc. Corn proved better, because the birds
286 The Book of Woodcraft
and the squirrels kept it cleaned up from day to day, and
thus the ground was always ready for a fresh start. But
the best of all is the hoof mark for the shoe. These iron
hoof marks are fast to a pair of shoes, and leave a trail
much like a real deer. This has several advantages. It
gives the hunter a chance to tell where the trail doubled,
and which way the deer was going. It is more realistic, and
a boy who can follow this skilfully can follow a living deer.
In actual practice it is found well to use a little corn with
this on the hard places, a plan quite consistent with realism,
as every hunter will recall.
It is strictly forbidden to any hunter to stand in front of
the firing line; all must be back of the line on which the
shooter stands.
There is no limit to the situations and curious combina-
tions in this hunt. The deer may be left standing or lying.
There is no law why it should not be hidden behind a solid
tree trunk. The game develops as one follows it. After
it has been played for some time with the iron hoof mark as
above, the boys grow so skilful on the trail that we can dis-
pense with even the corn. The iron mark like a deer hoof
leaves a very realistic “slot” or track, which the more skil-
ful boys readily follow through the woods. A hunt is usually
for three, five, or more deer, according to agreement, and
the result is reckoned by points on the whole chase.
THE BEAR HUNT
This is played by half a dozen or more boys. Each has a
club about the size and shape of a baseball club, but made of
straw tied around two or three switches and tightly sewn up
in burlap.
Games for the Camp 287
One big fellow is selected for the bear. He has a school-
bag tightly strapped on his back, and in that a toy balloon
fully blown up. ‘This is his heart. On his neck is a bear-
claw necklace of wooden beads and claws. (See Cut.)
He has three dens about one hundred yards apart in a
triangle. While in his den the bear is safe. If the den is
a tree or rock, he is safe while touching it. He is obliged to
come out when the chief hunter counts too, and must go
the rounds of the three till the hunt is settled.
The object of the hunters is to break the balloon or heart;
that is, kill the bear. He must drop dead when the heart
bursts. The hunter who kills him claims the necklace.
Bear-claw
Necklace
But the bear also has a club for defence. Each hunter
must wear a hat, and once the bear knocks a hunter’s hat
off, that one is dead and out of this hunt. He must drop
where his hat falls.
Tackling of any kind is forbidden.
The bear wins by killing or putting to flight all the
hunters. In this case he keeps the necklace.
The savageness of these big bears is indescribable.
Many lives are lost in each hunt, and it has several times
happened that the whole party of hunters has been exter-
minated by some monster of unusual ferocity.
This game has also been developed into a play.
288 The Boox of Woodcraft
SPEARING THE GREAT STURGEON
This water game is exceedingly popular and is especially
good for public exhibition, being spectacular and full of
amusement and excitement.
The outfit needed is:
(x1) Asturgeon roughly formed of soft wood; it should be
about three feet long and nearly a foot thick at the head.
It may be made realistic, or a small log pointed at both
ends will serve.
The Wooden Sturgeon
SSE
es
Waght - fo% ballast,
(2) Two spears with six-inch steel heads and wooden
handles (about three feet long). The points should be
sharp, but not the barbs. Sometimes the barbs are omit-
ted altogether. Each head should have an eye to which is
attached twenty feet of one-quarter-inch rope. On each
rope, six feet from the spearhead, is a fathom mark made
by tying on a rag or cord.
(3) Two boats with crews. Each crew consists of a
spearman, who is captain, and one or two oarsmen or pad-
dlers, of which the after one is the pilot. All should be
expert swimmers or else wear life belts during the game.
The game. Each boat has a base or harbor; this is
Games for the Camp 289
usually part of the shore opposite that of the enemy; or it
obviates all danger of collision if the boats start from the
same side. The sturgeon is left by the referee’s canoe at a
point midway between the bases. At the word ‘Go!”
each boat leaves its base and, making for the sturgeon,
tries to spear it, then drag it by the line to the base. When
both get their spears into it the contest becomes a tug of
war until one of the spears pulls out.
The sturgeon is landed when the prow of the boat that
has it in tow touches its proper base, even though the
spear of the enemy is then in the fish: or it is landed when
the fish itself touches base if it is also in tow at the time.
The boats change bases after each heat.
Matches are usually for one, three, or five sturgeon.
Points are counted only for the landing of the fish, but the
referee may give the decision on a foul or a succession of
fouls, or the delinquent may be set back one or more boat-
lengths.
Sometimes the game is played in canoes or boats, with
one man as spearman and crew.
Rules: It is not allowed to push the sturgeon into a new
position with the spear or paddle before striking.
It is allowed to pull the sturgeon under the boat or pass
it around by using the line after spearing. _
It is allowed to lay hands on the other boat to prevent a
collision, but otherwise it is forbidden to touch the other
boat or crew or paddle or spear or line, or to lay hands on the
fish or to touch it with the paddle or oar, or touch your own
spear while it is in the fish, or to tie the line around the fish
except so far as this may be accidentally done in spearing.
It is allowed to dislodge the enemy’s spear by throwing
your own over it. The purpose of the barbs is to assist
in this.
It is allowed to run on to the sturgeon with the boat.
290 The Book of Woodcraft
It is absolutely forbidden to throw the spear over the other
boat or over the heads of your crew.
In towing the sturgeon the fathom-mark must be over
the gunwale — at least six feet of line should be out when —
the fishisin tow. It is not a foul to have less, but the spear-
man must at once let it out if the umpire or the other crew |
cries ‘‘ Fathom!”
The spearman is allowed to drop the spear and use the
paddle or oar at will, but not to resign his spear to another —
of the crew. The spearman must be in his boat when the
spear is thrown.
If the boat is upset the judge’s canoe helps them to right. |
Each crew must accept the backset of its accidents.
CANOE TAG
Any number of canoes or boats may engage in this. A
rubber cushion, a hot-water bag full of air, any rubber
football, or a cotton bag with a lot of corks in it is needed.
The game is to tag the other canoe by throwing this zo it.
The rules are as in ordinary cross-tag.
SCOUTING
Scouts are sent out in pairs or singly. A number of |
points are marked on the map at equal distances from camp,
and the scouts draw straws to see where each goes. If one —
}
:
?
place is obviously hard, the scout is allowed a fair number ~
of points as handicap. All set out at same time, go direct, —
and return as soon as possible.
Points are thus allowed:
Last back, zero for traveling.
The others count one for each minute they are ahead of
the last.
Points up to 100 are allowed for their story on return.
Games for the Camp 291
Sometimes we allow 1o points for each Turtle they have
seen; 10 for each Owl seen and properly named; 5 for each
Hawk, and 1 each for other wild birds; also 2 for a Cat; 1
for a Dog.
No information is given theScout; he is told to go to such
a point and do so and so, but is fined points if he hesitates
or asks how or why, etc.
THE GAME OF QUICKSIGHT
Take two boards about a foot square, divide each into
twenty-five squares; get ten nuts and ten pebbles. Give
to one player one board, five nuts, and five pebbles. He
places these on the squares in any pattern he fancies, and
when ready, the other player is allowed to see it for five
counters
Qvicksight Game ©6008 ecoeg
seconds. ‘Then it is covered up, and from the memory of
what he saw the second player must reproduce the pattern
on his own board. He counts one for each that was right,
and takes off one for each that was wrong. They take
turn and turn about.
This game is a wonderful developer of the power to see and
memorize quickly.
292 The Book of Woodcraft
FAR-SIGHT, OR SPOT-THE-RABBIT
Take two six-inch squares of stiff white pasteboard or
whitened wood. On each of these draw an outline Rabbit,
one an exact duplicate of the other. Make twenty round
black wafers or spots, each half an inch across. Let one
player stick a few of these on one Rabbit-board and set it
fe ©20000
up in full light. The other, beginning at 100 yards, draws
near till he can see the spots well enough to reproduce the
pattern on the other which he carries. If he can do it at
75 yards he has wonderful eyes. Down even to 70 (done
3 times out of 5) he counts high honor; from 70 to 60 counts
honor. Below that does not count at all.
HOME STAR OR POLE STAR
Each competitor is given a long, straight stick, in day-
time, and told to lay it due north and south. In doing this
he may guide himself by sun, moss, or anything he can find
in nature — anything, indeed, except a compass.
The direction is checked by a good compass corrected for
the locality. The one who comes nearest wins.
Games for the Camp 293
It is optional with the judges whether the use of a time-
piece is to be allowed.
RABBIT HUNT
The game of Rabbit-hunting is suited for two hunters in
limited grounds.
Three little sacks of brown burlap, each about eight
inches by twelve, are stuffed with hay.
At any given place in the woods the two hunters stand in
a 10-foot circle with their bows and arrows. One boy is
blindfolded; the other, without leaving the circle, throws
the Rabbits into good hiding places on the ground. Then
the second hunter has to find the Rabbits and shoot them
without leaving the circle. The lowest number of points
wins, as in golf. If the hunter has to leave the circle he
gets one point for every step he takes outside. After he
sees the Rabbit he must keep to that spot and shoot till it
is hit once. One shot kills it, no matter where struck.
For every shot he misses he gets five points.
After his first shot at each Rabbit the hider takes alter-
nate shots with him.
If it is the hider who kills the Rabbit, the hunter adds
ten points to his score. If the hunter hits it, he takes ten
off his score.
If the hunter fails to find all the Rabbits, he scores twenty-
five for each one he gives up.
The hider cannot score at all. He can only help his
friend into trouble. Next time the two change places.
A match is usually for two brace of Rabbits.
ARROW FIGHT
This is a good one for challenges between two bands
of equal numbers, say six on a side.
294 The Book of Woodcraft
Each brave is armed with a bow and arrows (blunt
preferred). Let the two bands stand in a row opposite
a given bank, 10 to 20 yards away. Against this bank
should be a row of 12-inch wooden or card disks (wooden
dishes do well) set on edge lightly in stakes. Each brave
is represented by a disk, which is opposite his enemy or
corresponding number. Thus six disks, number one to
six, represent the Wolf Band; they are opposite the Eagles,
and vice-versa.
At the word go each shoots at the disks that represent
his enemies. As soon as the disk that represents himself
is shot, he must fall; he is out of the fight. The battle
continues until all of one side are down. A truce may be
arranged to recover the arrows.
HOSTILE SPY
Hanging from the Totem-pole is a red or yellow horsetail.
This is the Grand Medicine Scalp of the band. The Hos-
tile Spy has to capture it. The leader goes around on the
morning of the day and whispers to the various braves,
“Look out — there’s a spy in camp.” At length he goes
secretly near the one he has selected for spy and whispers,
“Look out, there’s a spy in camp, and you are it.” He
gives him at the same time some bright-colored badge, that
he must wear as soon as he has secured the Medicine Scalp.
He must not hide the scalp on his person, but keep it in
view. He has all day till sunset to get away with it. If
he gets across the river or other limit, with warriors in close
pursuit, they give him ten arrowheads (two and one half
cents each), or other ransom agreed on. If he gets away
safely and hides it, he can come back and claim fifteen
arrowheads from the Council as ransom for the scalp. If
he is caught, he pays his captor ten arrowheads, ransom
for his life.
Games for the Camp 295
THE SCOUT MESSENGER
This is played with a Scout and ten or more Hostiles, or
Hounds, according to the country; more when it is rough
or wooded.
The Scout is given a letter addressed to the “Military
Commandant’ of any given place a mile or twoaway. He
is told to take the letter to any one of three given houses,
and get it endorsed, with the hour when he arrived, then
return to the starting-point within a certain time.
The Hostiles are sent to a point halfway, and let go by
a starter at the same time as the Scout leaves the camp.
They are to intercept him.
If they catch him before he delivers the letter he must
ransom his life by paying each two arrowheads (or other
forfeit) and his captor keeps the letter as a trophy. If he
gets through, but is caught on the road back, he pays half
as much for his life. If he gets through, but is over time,
it is a draw. If he gets through successfully on time he
claims three arrowheads from.each Hostile and keeps the
letter as a trophy.
They may not follow him into the house (that is, the
Fort), but may surround it at one hundred yards distance.
They do not know which three houses he is free to enter, but
they do know that these are within certain narrow limits.
The Scout should wear a conspicuous badge (hat, shirt,
coat, or feather), and may ride a wheel or go in a wagon,
etc., as long as his badge is clearly visible. He must not
go in female dress.
A CHALLENGE FOR SCOUT MESSENGER
me day, 1913, the Sinawa Tribe of Cos Cob,
Conn., will send a letter by one man into the town of
*The “‘ Military Commandment ” is usually the lady of the house that he gets to.
296 The Book of Woodcraft
Jellypot (two miles off) and will have him bring again an
answer within the space of three hours; and hereby
challenge any twenty picked warriors of the Flying Eagles
of New Jersey to capture or hinder the delivery of said
letter. On this the messenger will stake his scalp or any
other agreed forfeit according to the rules of the game of
Scout Messenger.
TREE THE COON
This is an indoor game, founded on the familiar “Hunt
the Thimble.”
We use a little dummy coon; either make it or turn a
ready-made toy rabbit into one, by adding tail and black
mask, and cropping the ears. Sometimes even a little
rag ball with a face painted on it.
All the players but one go out of the room. That one
places the coon anywhere in sight, high or low, but in plain
view; all come in and seek. ‘The first to find it sits down
silently, and scores 1. Each sits down, on seeing it, giving
no clue to the others.
The first to score 3 coons is winner, usually. Sometimes
we play till every one but one has a coon; that one is the
booby. ‘The others are first, second, etc.
Sometimes each is given his number in order of finding
it. Then, after 7 or 8 coons, these numbers are added up,
and the Jowest is winner.
NAVAJO FEATHER DANCE
An eagle feather hung on a horsehair, so as to stand up-
right, is worked by a hidden operator, so as to dance and
caper. The dancer has to imitate all its motions. A
marionette may be used. It isa great fun maker.
Se
Games for the Camp 297
FEATHER FOOTBALL OR FEATHER-BLOW
This is an indoor, wet-weather game.
The players hold a blanket on the knees or on the table.
A soft feather is put in the middle. As many may play as
can get near. They may be in sides, 2 or 4, or each for
himself. At the signal “‘Go!”’ each tries to blow the feather
off the blanket at the enemy’s side, and so count one for
himself.
A game is usually best out of 7, 11, or 13.
COCK-FIGHTING
Make 2 stout sticks, each 2 feet long (broomsticks will
do). Pad each of these on the end with a ball of rag.
These are the spurs. Make an 8-foot ring. The two
rivals are on their hunkers, each with a stick through be-
hind his knees, his hands clasped in front of the knees, and
the arms under the ends of the spurs.
Now they close; each aiming to upset the other, to make
him lose his spurs or to put him out of the ring, any of
which ends that round, and scores 1 for the victor. If
both fall, or lose a spur, or go out together, it is a draw.
Battle is for 3, 5, 7, 11, or 13 rounds.
ONE-LEGGED CHICKEN FIGHT
Tn this the two contestants stand upon one leg, holding
up the ankle grasped in one hand behind. Points are
scored as above, but it is a defeat also to drop the up leg.
STRONG HAND
The two contestants stand right toe by right toe, right
hands clasped together; left feet braced; left hands free.
298 The Book of Woodcraft
At the word “Go!” each tries to unbalance the other;
that is, make him lift or move one of his feet. A lift or
a shift ends the round.
Battles are for best out of 3, 5, 7, or 1 rounds.
BADGER-PULLING
The two contestants, on hands and knees, face each other.
A strong belt or strap is buckled into one great loop that
passes round the head of each; that is, crosses his nape.
Halfway between them is a dead line. The one who pulls
the other over this line is winner.
The contestant can at any time end the bout by lowering
his head so the strap slips off; but this counts 1 against him.
Game is best out of 5, 7, 11, or 13 points.
STUNG, OR STEP ON THE RATTLER — SOMETIMES
CALLED POISON
This isan ancient game. A circle about three feet across
is drawn on the ground. The players, holding hands, make
a ring around this, and try to make one of the number step ©
into the poison circle. He can evade it by side-stepping, —
by jumping over, or by dragging another fellow into it.
First to make the misstep is ‘‘it”’ for the time or for next ©
game.
Sometimes we use a newspaper with a switch lying ©
across it. Each when stung sits down. When one only
is left he is the Rattler, and may sting each of the others
with the switch across their hand.
BUFFALO CHIPS
When I was among the Chipewyan Indians of Great
Slave Lake, in 1907, I made myself popular with the young
men, as well as boys, by teaching them the old game of ~
hat-ball or Buffalo Chips.
Games for the Camp 299
The players (about a dozen) put their hats in a row near
a house, fence, or log (hollows up) A dead-line is drawn
10 feet from the hats; all must stand outside of that. The
one who is ‘‘it”’ begins by throwing a soft ball into one of
the hats. If he misses the hat, a chip is put into his own,
and he tries over. As soon as he drops the ball into a hat,
the owner runs to get the ball; all the rest run away. The
owner must not follow beyond the dead-line, but must
throw the ball at some one. If he hits him, a chip goes into
that person’s hat; if not, a chip goes into his own.
As soon as some one has 5 chips he is the Buffalo; he wins
the booby prize: that is, he must hold his hand out steady
against the wall, and each player has 5 shots at it with the
ball, as he stands on the dead-line.
RAT-ON-HIS-LODGE
Each player has a large, smooth, roundish stone, about
4 or 5 inches through. This is his rat. He keeps it per-
manently.
The lodge is any low boulder, block, stump, bump, or
hillock on level ground. A dead-line is drawn through the
lodge and another parallel, 15 feet away, for a firing line.
The fellow who is “‘it,”’ or ‘‘keeper,”’ perches his rat on
the lodge. The others stand at the firing-line and throw
their rats at his. They must not pick them up or touch
them with their hands when they are beyond the dead-
line. If one does, then the keeper can tag him (unless he
reaches the firing-line), and send him to do duty as keeper
at the rock.
But they can coax their rats with their feet, up to the
dead-line, not beyond, then watch for a chance to dodge
back to the firing-line, where they are safe at all times.
300 The Book of Woodcraft
If the rat is knocked off by any one in fair firing, the
keeper is powerless till he has replaced it. Meantime, most —
of the players have secured their rats and got back safe to —
the firing-line.
By using bean bags or sandbags instead of stones
this may be made an indoor game.
WATCHING BY THE TRAIL
This is a game we often play in the train, to pass the time
pleasantly.
Sometimes one party takes the right side of the road
with the windows there, and the other the left. Sometimes
all players sit on the same side.
The game is, whoever is first to see certain things agreed
on scores so many points. Thus:
A crow or a cow counts
A horse
A sheep
A goat
OIG UE NaN tet ie dik ie alice yea
AUB AE Sie ROMs Noe aI Ae
An owl
TOM RW D
The winner is the one who first gets 25 or 50 points, as
agreed.
When aroot, one naturally takes other things for points,
as certain trees, flowers, etc.
TRAILING
A good trailing stunt to develop alertness and obser-
vation is managed thus: One fellow wearing the tracking
irons is deer. He is given 100 beans, 30 slices of potato
and 1o minutes start. He has to lay a track, as crooked
as he pleases, dropping a bean every 3 or 4 yards and a slice
Games for the Camp 301
of potato every 20. After ten minutes’ run the deer has
to hide.
The trailers follow him, picking up the beans and
potato slices. Each bean counts 1 point, each slice of
potato 2. The one who finds the deer scores tro for it.
APACHE RELAY RACE
One band is pitted against another, to see who can carry
a message and bring a reply in shortest time, by means of
relays of runners. One mile is far enough for an ordinary
race. This divides up even 220 yards to each of eight
runners. The band is taken out by the Chief, who drops
scouts at convenient distances, where they await the arrival
of the other runner, and at once take the letter on to the
next, and there await the return letter.
A good band of 8 can carry a letter a mile and bring the
answer in about g minutes.
THE WEASEL IN THE WOOD
The old French Song game much like our game of ‘‘ But-
ton, Button,” orthe Indian Moccasin game, is given in the
Section on Songs, etc.
THROWING THE SPEAR
This was popular among Indians until the rifle made the
spear of little use.
The spear is of a straight, slender staff of ash or hickory,
about 7 feet long. It should have a steel point, the
weight should be chiefly in the head end; that is, the
balancing point should be 2 feet from the head. A tuft
of colored feathers or hair near the light end helps the spear
to fly straight, and is a distinctive ornament.
302 The Book of Woodcraft
The target should be a burlap sack stuffed tight with
straw and ranged as for archery. Make it big, 6 feet —
square, if possible, and always begin so close to it that you
at least hit the sack nearly every time. Afterward:you
can work off to the correct range of 30 feet. q
WATER-BOILING CONTEST
Given a hatchet and knife, 1 match, a 2-quart pail, 7
inches or less in diameter, one quart of water and a block ©
of soft wood about 2 feet long and 5 or 6 inches through. _
Any one should have the water boiling in 10 minutes.
The record is said to be 7.59
First cut plenty of wood. Spend three minutes on it. q
Support your pail on four pegs driven in the ground. If —
water is handy dip the pegs in it before placing.
The water must be jumping and bubbling all over the
surface or it is not boiling. 4
If the first match goes out, contestants are usually al- _
lowed a second, but are penalized by having 2 minutes ©
added to their time.
MEDLEY SCOUTING
The following competition in Medley Scouting took
place at one of my camps. A prize was offered for the —
highest points in the following: -
At the word, ‘‘Go.”’
Bring a leaf of sugar-maple; and tell how it differs from —
other maples. 7
Tell a short story. ‘ge
Bring a leaf of poison ivy (wrapped in a thick paper, to —
avoid touching it), and describe the poison, and mode of ~
counteracting it. z
Games for the Camp 303
Mark off on a stick your idea of a yard.
Bring a leaf of witch hazel, and tell what it is good for.
Show a bed made by yourself in camp of woods material.
Bring a leaf of beech, and tell how it differs from those
most like it.
Show a dancer’s war club made by — in camp, and
tell what they are used for.
Dance a step; any — English, Irish, Scotch, or Indian.
Strike a match and light a lamp; both of them im-
aginary.
Show a birch-bark utensil or article made by yourself.
Make a map of North America from memory in to
minutes.
Boil a quart of water in a 2-quart pail, given 1 match,
a hatchet, and a stick of wood. You should do it inside of
12 minutes.
Give an imitation of some animal, actions or sounds.
Play the part of an Indian woman finding her warrior
dead.
For each of the first 20 competitors, points were given;
the prize adjudged by the total.
Some of these stunts may seem trivial, but there was a
purpose in each, and that purpose was served. In the
Indian widow, for example, we wished to select the best
actor for play. Most of the fellows failed. Two were good,
but one, nearly the smallest in camp, was so fine that he
brought tears into the eyes of many.
The selection of the various leaves impressed these kinds
on all, especially those who failed to bring the right ones.
The song and dance was introduced to cultivate the
spirit of going fearlessly in and doing one’s best, however
poor it might be; and the elements of handicraft were
recognized in birch-bark vessel and war club.
304 The Book of Woodcraft
-_
By the bed competition, all were taught how easy it is i
to make one’s self comfortable in the woods.
The water-boiling was particularly instructive and was i
tried twice. The first time the winner took 14 minutes,
and the second best 20. The last time, the winner’s time -
was 8 minutes, and the second one’s ro. .
Even the imitations of monkey, lynx, cat, panthea
moose, etc., developed a keen observation, oe a lot of i
good atu history that was intensely interesting as well
as amusing. [
a i
Health and Woodland Medicine
FIRST AID. (Rudimentary)
(Second Aid, and best, is bring the doctor)
TO REVIVE FROM DROWNING
clothing if any.
(2) Empty the lungs of water, by laying the
ifedy breast down, and lifting it by the middle, with the
head hanging down. Hold thus for a few seconds, till the
water is evidently out.
(3) Turn the patient on his breast, face downward.
_ (4) Give artificial respiration thus: by pressing the
Tower ribs down and forward toward the head, then
Telease. Repeat about twelve times to the minute.
(5s) Apply warmth and friction to extremities, rubbing
toward the heart.
— (6) DON’T GIVE UP! Persons have been saved after
hours of steady effort, and after being under water over
twenty minutes.
(7) When natural breathing is reéstablished, put the
patient into warm bed, with hot-water bottles, warm drinks,
or stimulants, in teaspoonfuls, fresh air, and quiet. Let
him sleep, and all will be well.
395
A S SOON as the patiert is in a safe place, loosen the
306 The Book of Woodcraft
SUNSTROKE
(1) Reduce the temperature of the patient and the
place — that is, move the patient at once to a cooler spot,
if possible, in the shade. .
(2) Loosen or remove the clothing about the neck and
body. P
(3) Apply cold water or ice to the head and body, or
even wrap the patient in sheets wet from time to time with |
cold water. q
(4) Use no stimulant, but allow free use of Gai water
to drink.
BURNS AND SCALDS
Exclude the air by covering the burn with a thin paste
of baking-soda, starch, flour, vaseline, olive oil, linseed —
oil, castor-oil, lard, cream, or cold cream. Cover the
_burn first with the smear; next with a soft rag soaked in
the smear.
Shock always accompanies severe burns, and must be
treated.
HEMORRHAGE, OR INTERNAL BLEEDING
This is usually from the lungs or stomach. If from the
lungs, the blood is bright-red and frothy, and is coughed
up; if from the stomach, it is dark, and is vomited. Cause
the patient to lie down, with head lower than body. Small
pieces of ice should be swallowed, and ice-bags, or snow,
cold water, etc., applied to the place whence it comes.
Hot applications may be applied to the extremi-
ties, but avoid stimulants, unless the Pee is very
weak. 1
Health and Woodland Medicine aay
CUTS AND WOUNDS
After making sure that no dirt or foreign substance is
in the wound, the first thing is tight bandaging — to close
it and stop the bleeding. The more the part is raised
above the heart — the force-pump — the easier it is to do
this.
If the blood comes out in spurts, it means an artery has
been cut; for this, apply a twister or tourniquet — that is,
make a big knot in a handkerchief, tie it round the limb,
with the knot just above the wound, and twist it round with
a stick till the flow is stopped.
LIGHTNING
To revive one stunned by a thunderbolt, dash cold water
over him.
SHOCK OR NERVOUS COLLAPSE
A person suffering from shock has pale, dull face, cold
skin, feeble breathing, rapid, feeble pulse, listless, half-
dead manner. Place him on his back with head low. Give
stimulants, such as hot tea or coffee, or perhaps one drink
of spirits. Never remove the clothing, but cover the
person up. Rub the limbs and place hot-water bottles
around the body. Most persons recover in time, without
aid, but those with weak hearts need help.
FAINTING
Fainting is caused by the arrest of the blood supply to the
brain, and is cured by getting the heart to correct the lack.
To aid in this have the person lie down with the head lower
than the body. Loosen the clothing. Give fresh air.
308 The Book of Woodcraft
Rub the limbs. Use smelling-salts. Do not let him get
up until fully recovered.
MAD DOG OR SNAKE BITE
Put a tight cord or bandage around the limb between the
wound and the heart. Suck the wound many times and
wash it with hot water to make it bleed. Burn it with
strong ammonia or caustic or a white-hot iron; or cut out
the wounded parts with a sharp knife or razor, if you can-
not get to a doctor.
INSECT STINGS
Wash with oil or weak ammonia, or very salt water, or
paint with iodine.
TESTS OF DEATH
Hold a cold mirror to the nostrils or mouth. This shows
at once if there is any breath. Push a pin into the flesh.
If living, the hole will close again; if dead, it will remain open.
CINDERS OR SAND IN THE EYE
Can be removed with the tip of a lead-pencil, or the wet —
end of a tiny roll of soft paper. I have seen a woman 9
lick the cinder out of her child’s eye when other means —
were lacking. .
BOOKS RECOMMENDED
“First Aid’? By Major Charles Lynch. P. Blakiston Sons & Co,
t1o17 Walnut St., Philadelphia, r911. 30 cents.
Pim ed Weodland Medicine 300
Some Wildwood Remedies or Simples
(In case no standard remedies be at hand.)
For trees mentioned, but not illustrated here, see Forestry section.
Antiseptic or wound-wash: Strong, salt brine, as hot as
can be borne: a handful of salt in a quart of water.
Balm for wounds: Balsam Fir. The gum was con-
sidered a sovereign remedy for wounds, inside or out; it
is still used as healing salve, usually spread on a piece of
linen and laid over the wound for a dressing.
Bleeding, to stop, nose or otherwise: Gather a lot of leaves
of witch hazel, dry them, and powder them to snuff.
Health and Woodland Medicine 333
leather and hide; but the staple and mainstay was rock-
tripe. It is not delicious food, nor is it highly nutritious,
but it will sustain life, and every traveler should know
what it is like and how to use it.
Drinks. It will be a fitting conclusion to this question of
foods if we note one or two possible drinks. Franklin and
Richardson used Labrador tea as a hot drink. This is an
infusion of the plants figured here. But good and slightly
nourishing drinks are made also of the buds, sprouts, or
inner bark of spruce, basswood, tamarac, birch, and es-
pecially of slippery elm.
XII. Natural History
Our Common Bird or Forty Birds that Every Boy
Should Know
leucocephalus) is the emblem of America. It is
three to four feet from beak to tail, and six or
seven feet across the wings. When fully adult it is known
by its white head, neck and tail, and the brown body; but
when young it is brownish black, splashed and marked
with dull white.
The only other eagle found in the United States is the
Golden or War Eagle (Aquila chrysaétos). This is a little
larger. When full grown it is dark brown, with the basal
half of tail more or less white. The plumage of the young
birds is somewhat like that of the young Bald Eagle; but
the two species may always be distinguished by the legs.
The War Eagle wears leggings — his legs are feathered to
the toes. He is ready for the warpath. The Bald Eagle
has the legs bald, or bare on the lower half.
Rediailed Hawk or Henhawk ( Buteo borealis). ‘The com-
mon hawks of America are very numerous and not easy
to distinguish. The best known of the large kinds is the
Redtail. This is about two feet long and four feet across
the wings. In general it is dark brown above and white
beneath, with dark brown marks; the tail is clear reddish
with one black bar across near the tip. In young birds
334
Te Bald Eagle or White-headed Eagle (Haligetos
Natural History 335
the tail is gray with many small bars. It has four primaries
notched on the inner web. ‘The legs are bare of feathers
for a space above the toes. It is common in North
Bald Eagle | Redtailed Hawk or Henhawk.
America east of the Rockies up to mid-Canada. It does
much good, killing mice and insects. It is noted for its
circling flight and far-reaching whistle or scream.
The Barred or Hoot Owl (Strix varia). This Owl is known
at once by the absence of horns, the black eyes and the
plumage barred across the chest and striped below that.
It is about twenty inches long, in general gray-brown
marked with white. It is noted for its loud hooting; it
is the noisiest owl in our woods. Found in the wooded
parts of America up to about latitude 50 degrees, east of
- the Plains.
336 The Book of Woodcraft
Great Horned Owl or Cat Owl (Bubo virginianus). This
is the largest of our Owls. About twenty-four inches long
and four feet across the wings. It is known at once by its
great ear tufts, its yellow eyes, its generally barred plumage
of white, black and buff, and its white shirt front. This
is the winged tiger of the woods. Noted for its destruction
of game and poultry, it is found throughout the timbered
parts of North America.
Screech Owl (Otus asio). This is not unlike the
Horned Owl in shape and color but is much smaller — only
ten inches long. Sometimes its plumage is red instead
of gray. It feeds on mice and insects and has a sweet
mournful song in the autumn — its lament for the falling
leaves. Itis found in the timbered parts of North America.
Turkey Vulture or Buzzard (Cathartes aura). The Turkey
Vulture is about two and a half feet long and about six
feet across its wings. It is black everywhere except
on the under side of the wing which is gray, and the
head which is naked and red. It is known at once by the
naked head and neck, and is famous for its splendid flight.
It is found from Atlantic to Pacific and north to the Sas-
katchewan. It preys on carrion.
In the Southern States is another species — the Black
Vulture or Carrion Crow — which is somewhat smaller
and wears its coat collar up to its ears instead of low on
the neck; also its complexion is dusky not red.
Loon (Gavia immer). 'The common Loon is known by
its size — thirty-two inches long and about four feet across
the wings — and its brilliant black and white plumage.
It is noted for its skill as a fisher and diver. Its weird
rolling call is heard on every hig lake in the country.
Common Seagull (Larus argentatus). ‘The common Sea-
gull is twenty-four inches long and four feet across. The
plumage is white with blue-gray back, when adult; but
Natural History 337
y}
Turkey Vulture or Buzzard. Screech Owl.
338 The Book of Woodcraft
splashed brown when young, and with black tips to the
wings. Its beak is yellow with red spot on the lower
mandible. It is found throughout North America.
Common Seagull.
Pelican (Pelecanus erythrorhynchos). The white Pelican
is known at once by its great size — about five feet long
and eight feet across the wings —- by its long beak, its
pouch, and its feet fully webbed. Its plumage is white,
but the wing tips are black. It is found in the interior of
America up to Great Slave Lake.
Wild Duck or Mallard (Anas platyrhynchos). Of all our
numerous wild ducks this is the best known. It is about
twenty-three inches long. Its bottle-green head, white
Natural History 339
collar, chestnut breast, penciled sides and curled up tail
feathers identify it. The female is streaky brown and
gray. It is found in all parts of the continent, up to the
edge of the forest. This is the wild duck from which tame
ducks are descended.
Wood Duck or Summer Duck (Aix sponsa). This beau-
tiful duck is about eighteen inches long. Its head is
beautifully variegated, bottle-green and white. Its eye is
red, its breast purplish chestnut, checkered with white
‘spots, while its sides are buff with black pencilings. This
_—- puck unte aee ieeel
340 The Book of Woodcraft
is one of the wildest
and most beautiful of
ducks. It nests in hol-
low trees and is found
in North America up to
about latitude 50 de-
grees.
Wild Goose, Canada
Goose or Honker (Branta
canadensis). This fine
bird is about three feet
long. Its head and neck
are black; its cheek
Seer
Wavy a My re
ja a
Wild Duck or Mallard N
. bike = hitera
Wood Duck or Summer Duck =~ patch white; its body
gray; its tail black with
white coverts above and
below. It is found up
to the Arctic regions,
and breeds north of
about latitude 45 de-
grees. It is easily tamed
and reared in captivity.
Swan. There are two
kinds of Swan found in
America: The Trum-
peter (Olor buccinator),
which is almost extinct,
is very large and has a
black bill, and the Whis-
~ tling Swan (Olorcolumbt-
anus), Which is smaller
—about five feet long
and seven feet across.
Wild Goose, Canada Goose or Honker Its plumage is pure
Natural History 341
white; its bill black, with a yellow spot near the eye. It is
found generally throughout North America but is rare now.
Bittern (Botaurus lengtiginosus). ‘This bird of marshes
is about twenty-eight inches long and can stand nearly
three feet high. Its general color is warm yellowish brown
splashed with dark brown. The black mark on the side
Bittern Great Blue Heron
of the neck is a strong feature, and its bright green legs
and beak are very distinctive. It is famous for its guttural
call notes in the marshes, and is found throughout North
America up to about latitude 60 in the interior.
Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias). This bird is com-
monly called Blue Crane. Its great size will distinguish
it. In general it is blue-gray above. white below; head,
342 The Book of Woodcraft
white, with black hind head, crest and marks on neck,
and shoulders. Its thighs are chestnut. It is found
throughout North America to the limit of heavy tim-
ber.
Quail or Bobwhite (Colinus virginianus). This famous
and delicate game bird is about ten inches long. Its
plumage is beautifully varied with reddish brown, lilac, and
black markings, on a white ground. Its whistle sounds —
like ‘‘Bob White.” It is found in eastern North America
up to Massachusetts and South Ontario.
Sa Si
S77
oP)
Ec)
Quail or Bobwhite Ruffed Grouse or Partridge
Ruffed Grouse or Partridge (Bonasa wmbellus). It is
known by its mottled and brown plumage, its broad and ©
beautiful fan tail, and the black ruffs on each side of the —
neck. It is noted for its drumming, which is usually a
love song — a call to its mate. Found in the heavy woods %
of North America, north of the Gulf States. ‘
Dove (Zenaidura macroura). This is an abundant inhabi-
tant of the farming country as far north as wheat is
now grown. It is about twelve inches long, and known |
Natural History 343
by its pigeon-like look, and its long wedge-shaped tail,
with black and white marks on the feathers. Its breast
issoft purplish gray. Its extinct relation, the once plentiful
Passenger Pigeon, was eighteen inches long and had a
reddish breast.
Downy Woodpecker (Dryobaies pubescens). About six
and and a half inches long, black and white. In the male
the nape is red, the outer tail feathers white, with black
spots. Carefully distinguish this from its large relation the
Hairy Woodpecker which is nine and a half inches long
and has no black spots on the white outer tail feathers.
A familiar inhabitant of orchards the year round, it is
found in woods throughout eastern North America.
Flicker or Highhole (Colaptes auratus). This large and
beautiful woodpecker is twelve inches long. Its head is
ashy gray behind, with a red nape in the neck, and brown-
gray in front. On its breast is a black crescent. The
spots below and the little bars above are black, and the
under side of wings and tail are bright yellow. The
rump is white. Its beautiful plumage and loud splendid
“‘clucker” cry make it a joy in every woodland. It is
found throughout North America, east of the Rockies up
_ to the limit of trees.
Ruby-throated Hummingbird (Trochilus colubris). Every
one knows the Hummingbird. The male only has the
throat of ruby color. It is about four inches long from tip
of beak to tip of tail. This is the only Hummingbird
found in the Northern States or Canada east of the
Prairies.
Kingbird (Tyrannus tyrannus). This bird is nearly
black in its upper parts, white underneath, and has a
black tail with white tip. Its concealed crest is orange
and red. It is eight and a half inches long. Famous
_ for its intrepid attacks on all birds, large and small, that
344 The Book of Woodcraft
approach its nest, it is found in North America east of the
Rockies, into Southern Canada.
Bluejay (Cyanocitta cristata). This bird is soft purplish
blue above, and white underneath. The wings and tail
are bright blue with black marks. It is found in the
'
;
‘
‘
+
y
j
a
«,
Downy \\ ; $
Woodpecker. <7> Kingbird.
Natural History 345
woods of America east of the plains to about latitude 55.
The Bluejay is a wonderful songster and mimic, but it is
mischievous — nearly as bad as the crow indeed.
Common Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos). The Crow is
black from head to foot, body and soul. It is about
Bobolink
or Reedbird.
Bluejay.
eighteen inches long and thirty wide. It makes itself a
nuisance in all the heavily wooded parts of E. North
America.
Bobolink or Reedbird (Dolichonyx oryzivorus). This bird
is about seven and a half inches long. The plumage is
black and white, with brown or creamy patch on nape;
and the tail feathers all sharply pointed. The female,
and the male in autumn, are all yellow buff with dark
streaks. Though famous for its wonderful song as it flies
over the meadows in June, it is killed by the thousands
to supply the restaurants in autumn and served up under
346 The Book of Woodcraft
the name Reedbird. It is found in North America, chiefly
between north latitude 40 and 52 degrees.
Baltimore Oriole (Icterus galbula). The Oriole is about
cight inches long, flaming orange in color, with:black head
and back and partly black tail and wings. The female
is duller in plumage. Famous for its beautiful nest, as
; Baltimore Oriole. Purple Crackle or Crow Blackbird.
well as its gorgeous plumage and ringing song, it is abundant ©
in Eastern North America in open woods up to Northern —
Ontario and Lake Winnipeg.
Purple Crackle or Crow Blackbird (Quiscalus quiscala).
This northern bird of paradise looks black at a distance
but its head is shiny blue and its body iridescent. It is —
twelve inches long. When flying it holds its long tail with ©
the edge raised like a boat, hence ‘‘boat tail.” In various
forms it is found throughout the eastern States, and in ~
Canada up to Hudson Bay. ’
Snowbird (Plectrophenax nivalis). About six and a half
inches long, this bird is pure white, overlaid with brown ‘
|
Natural History 347
on the crown, back and sides. The wings, back and tail
are partly black. ‘The Snowbird nests in the Arctic regions
and is common in most of temperate agricultural America,
during winter, wherever there is snow.
Song-sparrow. Scarlet Tanager.
Song-Sparrow (Melospiza melodia). The Song-sparrow
is about six and a half inches long — brown above — white
underneath. It is thickly streaked with blackish marks
on flanks, breast and all upper parts. All the tail feathers
are plain brown. There is a black blotch on the jaw and
another on the middle of the breast. Always near a brook.
348 The Book of Woodcraft
It is noted for its sweet and constant song, and is found
in all well wocded and watered parts of North America.
Scarlet Tanager (Piranga erythromelas). This gorgeous
bird is about seven inches long. The plumage of the male
is of a flaming scarlet, with black wings and tail; but the
female is dull green in color. The Scarlet Tanager is
found in the woods of eastern America, up to Ottawa and
Lake Winnipeg.
Purple Martin (Progne subis). About eight inches in
length, with long wings and forked tail, the Purple Martin
Purple Martin. Barn Swallow.
is everywhere of a shiny bluish or purplish black. Like
the Kingbird it attacks any intruder on its lower range.
This swallow is found in the wooded regions of east tem-
perate America, north to Newfoundland and the Sas-
katchewan.
Barn Swallow (Hirundro erythrogaster). About seven
inches long, this bird is steel-blue above, chestnut on
Natural History 349
throat and breast, buffy white on belly. It is known by
the long forked tail which is dark with white spots.
I'amous for its mud nest, it is found in open country
about barns in America generally.
Mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos). About ten inches
long, soft gray above, dull white beneath, wings and tail
Catbird.
Mockingbird.
black and white, with no black on head — the Mocking-
bird is famous for its song, and is found in United States
north to New Jersey.
Catbird (Dumetella carolinensis). This northern Mock-
ingbird is about nine inches long, dark slate in color, with
a black-brown cap, black tail and a red patch “on the
seat of its pants.” It abounds in the Eastern States
and Canada, north to Ottawa, Saskatchewan and British
Columbia.
Common House Wren (Troglodytes aédon). This little
fairy is about five inches long; soft brown above and brown-
350 The Book of Woodcraft
ish gray below, it is barred with dusky brown on wings
and tail. It nests in a hole, and is found in wooded
America east of the plains, north to Saskatchewan. Ottawa
and Maine.
Chickadee (Penthestes atricapillus). This cheerful little
bird is five and a half inches long. Its cap and throat are
Robin. Chickadee.
black. Its upper parts are gray, its under parts brownish,
its cheeks white, no streaks anvwhere. It does not migrate,
so it is well known in the winter woods of eastern America
up to the Canadian region where the Brown-Capped or
Hudson Chickadee takes its place. Its familiar song
chickadee dee dee has given it its name.
Wood Thrush (Hylocichla mustelinus). About eight
— ee ee ee
Natural History 351
inches long, cinnamon-brown above, brightest on head,
white below, with black spots on breast and sides, this
thrush is distinguished from the many thrushes in
America much like it, by the reddish head and round black
spots on its under sides. It is found in the woods of eastern
North America up to Vermont and Minnesota.
Robin (Planesticus migratorius). The Robin is about
ten inches long, mostly dark gray in color, but with black
on head and tail, its breast is brownish red. ‘The spots
Wood Thrush. Bluebird.
about the eye, also the throat, the belly and the marks in
outer tail feathers are white. Its mud nest is known
in nearly every orchard. Found throughout the timbered
parts of America north to the limit of trees.
Bluebird (Sialia sialis). About seven inches long, bril-
liant blue above, dull red-brown on breast, white below.
Found in eastern North America, north to about latitude
50 degrees in the interior, not so far on the coast.
352 The Book of Woodcraft
BOOKS RECOMMENDED
“Handbook of the Birds of Eastern North America,”
By F. M. Chapman, Appleton, N. Y. Price $3.00.
(Technical.)
“Handbook of Birds of the Western United States,”
By Florence Merriam Bailey. Houghton, Mifflin & Co.
Price, $3.50. (Technical.)
“Bird Homes,’ By A. R. Dugmore. Doubleday, Page
& Co. (Popular.)
“Bird Neighbors,’ By Neltje Blanchan. Doubleday,
Page & Co. (Popular.)
“Birds That Hunt and Are Hunted,” By Neltje
Blanchan. Doubleday, Page & Co. (Popular.)
How to Stuff a Bird
(By E. L. S. from Country Life, July, 1904)
A boy found a bird that was lying dead in the woods.
Its beautiful plumage, its form and its markings delighted
his eye. He carried it home to show to his mother and to
ask its name. She admired it with him but she could not
tell him what it was, and at length said, ‘‘Now go and
bury it before it begins to smell.”
The boy had not given a thought to the history of the
bird, nor had its death caused him a touch of sorrow.
He was interested in it as a strange and beautiful thing,
and the idea of burying all that beauty, or — worse — see-
ing it corrupt, now gave him a deep regret.
“How I wish I knew how to stuff it,”’ he said, feeling
that then he might always renew his present enjoyment.
He was expressing the feeling of most young people when
they see a dead bird. All would like to save its beautiful
plumage at least. They know it can be done, but have
Natural History 353
an idea that it is a very difficult thing. In a sense this
is true. It is so difficult to stuff a bird well, that not many
men in the world to-day can do it. As with all arts, there
can be but few masters. But the main process itself is
easy to learn; and if the boy who tries to do it fails in making
a life-like bird of his specimen, he at least does three
things: he saves its beautiful plumage; he adds to his bird
acquaintance; and he gains a keener appreciation of the
work of others.
While each taxidermist has his own methods, all agree
in the main. The directions here given are those, recom-
mended by good authorities, and that I have found most
practical in my own work.
There are two ways of preserving a bird:
(a) By making a skin.
(b) By mounting the bird.
MAKING A SKIN
The first is removing and preserving the skin in such
a way that it may always serve to show what the bird’s
plumage is like. Most naturalists prefer to keep their
specimens as skins, not only because it is easier and cheaper
to do so, but because then they take up less room, and the
skin may be properly mounted at any later time.
These are the tools and materials used in making a
skin:
A sharp knife, a pair of stout, short scissors, and a pair
of small forceps. (It is, however, quite possible to dispense
with all but the knife and scissors in making a bird skin.
I rarely use any tool but the scissors.)
For materials you will need cotton wool, needle and
thread, arsenical soap (some naturalists prefer dry white
arsenic) and cornmeal (or fine hardwood sawdust). Some
354 The Book of Woodcraft
plaster of paris and benzine will also be required if the
specimen is soiled with grease.
The hardest birds to begin on are the very large ones,
and the next hardest, perhaps, are the very small ones.
The easiest birds are those about the size of a robin or
bluejay (leaving out the woodpeckers).
Supposing the specimen to be skinned is a robin:
First put a little plug of cotton wool in its throat and
mouth, also into any wounds the bird may have, to stanch
the flow of blood, etc. This should be done the moment
the bird comes into your possession.
Now lay the bird on its back, tail toward your right
hand, part the feathers, and make a slit from near the end
of the breast-bone into the vent (S.V. Fig. 1 p. 356), taking
care to cut only the skin, not the walls of the abdomen.
Separate the skin from the flesh by pushing it with the
finger nail or knife-blade. As soon as the flesh is exposed,
put a pinch of meal on it to keep the feathers from sticking,
and also to soak up oil, blood, etc. Some use plaster for
this; but plaster is disagreeable under the finger nails, it
takes the gloss off the feathers, and if the specimen happens
to be a game-bird it injures the meat for the table. The
plaster is better however for white, fluffy birds, as meal
or sawdust lodges in the down.
Push the skin from the body till the leg is reached.
Work the leg out of the skin till the knee-joint is clear
on the inside of the skin; (H L, Fig. 2) cut the leg off at the
knee, taking great care not to cut or tear the skin. The
severed leg now hangs to the skin. When both legs are
thus cut, work around the base of the tail, freeing the skin.
Then cut straight through the bone and all, with the
scissors, at the part marked with arrow and black line
in Fig. 3 —leaving the tail bone with the tail hanging
to the skin.
Natural History . 355
This is one of the most difficult parts of the skinning.
It is so hard to get at, and so easy to tear the skin, that
one is to be congratulated if in the first lesson he safely
“rounds Cape Horn.”
At all stages keep the meal applied to the body as fast
as it is exposed, and in quantity enough to soak up all
moisture; and avoid stretching the skin.
With the tail and legs free, there is no difficulty in
pushing the skin off until stopped by the wings.
Cut them off at the shoulder joint deep in the muscles
of the breast (W. W, Fig. 4), leaving them attached to the
skin, just as the legs and tail are.
The skin is now inside out. It can readily be worked
along the neck and onto the head. Here it is stopped
by the ears. In the robin these are like pockets of skin
tucked into the small skull and may be easily pulled out
without cutting. In large birds the knife must be used.
The next and last difficulty is the eyes. The skin must
be cut free from them, carefully avoiding injury to the
eyelids or the eyeballs.
Now the skin is attached only to the forepart of the
skull (Fig. 4). Cut off the neck at the back of the skull
and the skin is freed from the body, but needs careful
cleaning.
Dig the eyes out of the sockets, taking great care not
to break the eyeballs, as their liquid is very difficult to
remove from the feathers. Cut out a section of the skull
so as to enlarge the hole behind by extending it downward
and sideways, as shown in Fig. 5, and remove the brains
through this. Cut off any lumps of flesh left about the
jaws, but do not break the jaw bone or its joints.
Next turn attention to the wings. Push the skin back
to the first joint (the elbow) in each. Cut and scrape
the meat from the bone. But there is a joint beyond
356 The Book of Woodcraft
Wht) i
+ fit
SS ae
te of £7 50~
Beet: Cont.
Skinning and stuffing a Robin
Natural History 357
this—the one that corresponds with our forearm.
This must be reached in a different way. There are
two bones in this, and the space between them is full
of meat. The quill feathers on its under side hold the
skin tight. In birds up to the size of a robin, this can
be cut out after the skin is forced a little farther back
than the elbow joint on the upper side, but in large birds
it is well to slit the skin under the wing from X to J (Fig.
1), along the line between the two bones.
Clean off the leg bones in the same way as the first wing
joint, turning the skin back as far as the heel joint (H in
Fig. 2). Carefully scrape off any lumps of fat left on the
skin, and especially remove the grease and flesh about
the tail bones.
Now this is the time I have usually found most con-
venient to remove stains from the plumage.
If of blood, hold the stained feathers on the inside
rim of a cup of lukewarm water and wash till clear. Then
dry the feathers with cornmeal. The shaking and turning
they get in the next operation will make them fluff out
as before.
If the stain is grease, use a cream made of benzine
and plaster of Paris. Let this dry on the feathers. It
dries as powder and falls off, taking the grease with it.
The next thing I now do is to tie the wing bones with
a stout linen thread, so that their ends are shackled
together as far apart as in life, (Fig. 6.) Some do not do
this, but it strengthens the skin, and I find it a great
help in several ways.
Now comes the poisoning. After trying dry arsenic
for long, I have come back to the old-fashioned arsenical
soap. It is much less liable to poison any one, since it
is not blown about by the wind. It does not look like
anything but soap and hence is unlikely to be mistaken
358 The Book of Wooderaft
for something good to eat. And last of all the soap in it
takes care of the grease in the skin.
Every part of the under side of the skin and of the
bones exposed is to be painted with this cream of the soap.
It is well now to lay a thin film of cotton over the skin
or sprinkle it lightly with sawdust to keep the feathers
from sticking in the soap. |
Make two tight round plugs of cotton each as big as the
eyeball, put one into each eye-socket.
Now push the head back into its place. This is easy
when the neck is slippery with the soap. Work the wing
and legs back into their places after wrapping each of the
bones with enough cotton to take the place of the flesh
cut off. This wrapping is not necessary with very small
birds, but the larger the bird, the more it is needed.
Make a neck of the cotton, push it with the forceps
up the neck skin, and well into the skull. Let it hang
into the body part, under the string that joins the wing
bones. Push another soft wad up the neck and into the
throat.
Shape a large piece of cotton for the body; set it in place,
and draw the skin gently over it till the opening is closed.
In large birds it is well to stitch this up, but it is not
needed in small ones. All that is needed now is the
prinking. Use a needle through the openings of the eyes
to fluff out the cotton balls in each, till they fill out the
sides of the head properly.
Set the innermost wing bones parallel with each other.
Aim to arrange the feathers by arranging the skin and
bones to which they are attached, rather than by prinking ~
the feathers themselves.
If the wing was slit open as at X J, (Fig. 1), fill the
space with cotton and close with a few stitches.
If at any time it is necessary to leave the specimen half
Natural History 359
finished, wrap it in a damp cloth and put it in a close tin
box. This will keep it from getting dry.
In skinning large birds, a strong hook, attached to a
string from the wall in front and above, is a great help.
_ As soon as the tail is cut off stick this hook into the bony
pelvis. It holds the bird away from you and answers
as a third hand.
Finally, make a little shroud out of a sheet of cotton
and wrap the bird in this before setting it to dry.
Cross the legs as in Fig. 7, and attach a label to these,
giving date, sex and place where the bird was taken.
The work is now done. But it is wise to lift the skin
the next morning and see if all goes well. In a few days
it will be dry and safe from ordinary corruption, but
must be protected from moth and insects.
This is a museum skin. It can be kept indefinitely
in this shape, or at any time it can be softened up and
mounted. |
MOUNTING THE BIRD
For mounting the bird some additional tools and mate-
rials are needed, namely:
A pair of wire cutters.
A pair of pliers.
A file,
Some glass eyes,
Some annealed or soft iron wire of several sizes,
Some tow, and a ball of stout packthread with needle
to match.
A few ordinary carpenter tools are needed to make the
stand, but that is another department.
The first part of the mounting is the skinning carried
out exactly as in making the skin, up to the point where
the cotton is put in. Now there is a difference. You
360 The Book of Woodcraft
cannot put a wire through cotton, therefore use no cotton
in a bird to be mounted; use tow instead. Plug the eyes,
wrap the legs and wings as before, but with tow.
If it is a dry skin that is to be mounted remove the
cotton body and replace it with a lump of cotton soaked
with water. Wrap damp cloth or cotton around the
outside of each leg, and on the bend of each wing. Shut
this up in a tin box for twenty-four hours and it will be
soft and can be treated like a fresh skin.
Cut a wire (of stovepipe size) about a foot long. File
a sharp point at one end and bend the other end into a
hook (Fig. 8). Take tow in long strips and lash it tight
over, around and through the hook —- stitching it tight
and binding it on with plenty of packthread — until you
have a body the size and shape of the one you took out
of the robin, with a neck on it also, like the bird’s own
neck (Figs. 9 and 10). Of course the real body should
be at hand to give the measurements. Keep the neck
lower than it appears, because the real neck is supple
and drops low between the shoulders in a way not possible
for the substitute. This body should be hard enough
to hold a pin or needle driven into it; indeed some taxi-
dermists use bodies carved out of cork.
Put the point of the wire up the neck, and out through
the top of the skull between the eyes (N. W. Fig. 11).
Gently work the neck up to the back of the skull and the
body into its place.
Now make two other sharpened wires. Work one up
through each foot under the skin of the leg, under the
wrapping, and on straight through the hard body — which
it enters about the middle of the side (X in Fig. 9). When
this is far enough through clinch it and drive it back
firmly into the body; taking care to avoid tearing the
skin, by easing up the leg on the wire, as it is drawn back.
Natural History 361
Do the same for the other leg. Get the tail into its
right place; drive a sharpened 3-inch wire through the
pope’s nose or tail bone into the body to hold it there;
work the skin together till the opening can be closed with
a few stitches; and now we are ready for the stand. The
simplest is the best for the present purpose. A piece
of a board slightly hollowed on the under side is got ready
in a few minutes. With an awl bore two holes through
this about one inch apart and run a foot-wire through each.
Clinch them on the under side, fastening them firmly
with tacks or small staples. Now we are ready to give
the robin its natural pose. This is done by bending
the wires in the neck and legs. A wire or a large pin will
have to be driven into each wing to hold it to the side,
at least while drying (X, Fig. 11); and another in the
middle of the back (B P, Fig. 11).
The prinking of the specimen is now done chiefly with
needles reaching through the feathers to the skin. Pins
may be driven into the body anywhere to hold the skin
or feathers in place; and cotton thread may be lashed
around the body or the wings and around the projecting
wire till everything is held in the position that is wished.
Then the bird is set away to dry.
In a week the specimen should be ready for the finishing
touch — the putting in of the eyes. A plug of damp
cotton is fastened on each eye-place the night before.
In the morning the eyelids are once more soft. The
eyes are put through the opening in the sockets, the
lids neatly set around them. Some prefer to set them in
_a bed of putty or plaster of paris. Cut off the projecting
wires flush, so that the feathers hide what is left, remove
the thread lashings and the mounting of the robin is
finished.
The process is much the same for all birds, but the larger
362 The Book of Woodcraft
the bird the more difficult. Seabirds, ducks, and divers
are usually opened at the back or under the side. Wood-
peckers and owls and some others have the head so large
that it will not come through the neck skin. This calls
for a slit dewn the nape of the neck, which, of course, is
carefully sewn up in finishing.
If the bird is to have its wings spread, each wing must be
wired to the body in the way already set forth for the legs.
If the bill keeps open when you want it shut, put a pin
through the lower jaw into the palate toward the part
in front of the eyes, or even wind a thread around the
bill behind the pin (see Fig. 11).
The mistakes of most beginners are: making the neck
too long, stuffing it too full, or putting the body so far
into it as to stretch the skin and show bare places.
To make good accessories for a group of mounted birds
is another very special business. It involves a knowledge
of wax flowers, imitation woods, water, stones, etc., and
is scarcely in the line of the present book. Therefore the
beginner is advised to use the simplest wooden stands.
Not every one has the taste for natural history, but
those who have will find great pleasure in preserving
their birds. They are not urged to set about making a
collection, but simply to preserve such specimens as fall
in their way. In time these will prove to be many, and
when mounted they will be a lasting joy to the youthful
owner. If the museum should grow too large for the
house, there are many public institutions that will be
glad to offer their hospitality and protection.
There is, moreover, a curious fatality attending a begin-
ner’s collection. It hardly ever fails. He speedily has —
the good luck to secure some rare and wonderful specimen
that has eluded the lifelong quest of the trained and pro-
fessional expert.
Natural History 363
(From Country Life, June 1904)
OWL-STUFFING PLATE (P. 364)
Fig. 1. The dead owl, showing the cuts made in skinning it:
A to B, for the body; El to H, on each wing, to remove the meat
of the second joint.
Fig. 2. After the skinning is done, the skull remains attached
to the skin, which is now inside out. The neck and body are cut
off at Ct. Sn to Sn shows the slit in the nape needed for owls
and several other birds.
Fig. 3. Top view of the tow body, neck end up, and neck
wire projecting.
Fig. 4. Side view of the tow body, with the neck wire put
through it. The tail end is downward.
Fig. 5. The heavy iron wire for neck.
Fig. 6. The owl after the body is putin. It is now ready to
close up, by stitching up the slit on the nape, the body slit B to
C, and the two wing slits El to H on each wing.
Fig. 7. A dummy as it would look if all the feathers were
off.. This shows the proper position for legs and wings on the
body. At Wisa glimpse of the leg wire entering the body at the
middle of the side.
Fig. 8. Another view of the body without feathers. The
dotted lines show the wires of the legs through the hard body,
and the neck wire.
Fig. 9. Two views of one of the eyes. These are on a much
larger scale than the rest of the figures in this plate.
Fig. 10. The finished owl, with the thread wrappings on and
the wires still projecting. Nw is endof the neck wire. Bp is
back-pin, that is, the wire in the centre of the back, Ww and Ww
are the wing wires. ‘Tl are the cards pinned on the tail to hold
it flat while it dries. In the last operation remove the thread
and cut all these wires off close, so that the feathers hide what
remains.
STUFFING AN ANIMAL
Mounting a mammal, popularly called animal, is a much
more difficult thing than mounting — that is, stuffing —a
bird.
364 The Book of Woodcraft
i
i (eee
To illustrate the mounting of a Horned Owl.
Natural History 365
It is so difficult that I do not advise any boy to try
it unless he has the time and patience to go into it seriously.
To do this he should get some standard treatise on
Taxidermy, such as:
“Taxidermy and Zodlogical Collecting,” by W. T,
Hornaday. (Scribners. $2.50) or
“The Art of Taxidermy,” by John T. Rowley. (Mac-
millan’s. $1.75.)
Nevertheless all may learn to preserve the skins of |
small animals for cabinet collections, or for mounting
at some later time.
The best instructions for this are those issued by the
Biological Survey of the United States Department of
Agriculture. I reproduce them.
PRESERVING SMALL MAMMAL SKINS
By Dr. C. Hart Merriam
Directions for Measurement
The tools necessary for measuring mammals are a pair
of compasses or dividers, a steel rule graduated in milli-
meters, and two large pins. Dividers with round points
are better than those with triangular points.
All measurements should give the distance in a straight
line between the points indicated. They should be taken
by means of dividers, or by driving pins into a board
to mark the points between which the measurement is
desired. They should never be made with a tape-line
over the convexities or inequalities of the surface.
The three most important measurements, and those
which should always be taken in the flesh are: (1) fotal
length; (2) length of tail; (3) length of hind foot.
366
= SSS SSS
The Book
of Woodcraft
How to measure a small mamal
Natural History 367
(1) The TOTAL LENGTH is the distance between the tip
of the nose and the end of the tail vertebra. It is taken
by laying the animal on a board, with its nose against
a pin or upright post, and by straightening the back and
tail by extending the hind legs with one hand while holding
the head with the other; a pin is then driven into the board
at the end of the vertebree. (See Fig. 2.)
(2) The LENGTH OF TAIL is the length of the caudal
vertebre. It is taken by erecting the tail at right angle
to the back, and placing one point of the dividers on the
backbone at the very root of the tail, the other at the tip
end of the vertebrie. (See Fig. 3.)
(3) The HIND FooT is measured by placing one point
of the dividers against the end of the heel (calcaneum),
the other at the tip of the longest claw, the foot being
flattened for this purpose. (See Fig. 4.)
DIRECTIONS FOR THE PREPARATION OF SKINS
Skin all mammals as soon as possible after death.
Lay the animal on its back, and make an incision along
the middle of the belly from just behind the fore legs
neatly to the vent. Be careful not to stretch the skin
while removing it, and exercise great caution in skinning
around the eyes and lips, which are easily cut. Skin as
far down on the feet as possible, but leave in the bones
of the legs. Remove the bone from the tail by pulling it
between the fingers (in the larger species a split stick
answers well). Take out the skull, being careful not to
cut or injure it in any way, and wash out the brains by
means of a syringe or jet of water. Remove the tongue,
and cut off the thick flesh from the sides and base of the
skull. Tie a tag to the skull, bearing the same number
368 The Book of Woodcraft
that is attached to the skin, and dry in the shade. In
damp weather it is sometimes necessary to use powdered
borax to prevent the remaining flesh from decomposing.
Never put arsenic or salt on a skull.
Remove all fat and tags of flesh that adhere to the
skin. In cleaning off blood or dirt that may have soiled —
the hair an old toothbrush and a liberal supply of corn-
meal will be found serviceable.
Poison all parts of the skin with dry arsenic (or better
still, with a mixture of powdered arsenic and alum in the —
proportion of four parts arsenic to one part alum), being ~
particular to put an extra supply in the feet and tail. Put
a wire in the body, letting it extend to the extreme tip of
the tail, but be careful not to stretch the tail. Use annealed
iron wire of as large size as will fit easily into the tip end of
the tail. In rabbits, foxes, and wildcats put wires in the —
legs also.
Stuff the skin to nearly its natural size with cotton or
tow (never use wool, feathers, or other animal substances);
sew it up along the belly, and place it flat on a board to
dry (belly down), with the fore legs extended in front
and parallel to the body (¢. e., not projecting sideways), —
and the hind legs and tail directed backward. The
accompanying cut (Fig. 1) shows the appearance of a well- —
made skin.
Attach to each skin a label bearing the same number —
that is given the skull. On this label should be stated
the sex, locality, date of capture (name of month should
always be written in full), and name of collector. |
All skins should be thoroughly dry before they are packed —
for shipment. They should be carefully wrapped in —
cotton and packed in small wooden boxes. Cigar-boxes
do very well for the smaller species.
WasHINGTON, D. C., March, 1889.
Natural History 369
TRAPPING ANIMALS
Trapping wild animals with steel traps is a wretchedly
cruel business and will doubtless be forbidden by law
before long. The old-fashioned deadfall which kills the
animal at once is quite sufficient for all the legitimate
work of atrapper. But many boys wish to capture animals
alive without doing them any injury, and this is easily
managed for most species if a ketchalive is used. The
” Were netting
Section of Boxtrap or i sores
© ketthalive’ 2 (set)
ketchalive or old-fashioned box trap is made in a hundred
different ways; but the main principles are shown in the
illustration. The lock on the side is necessary for some
species, such as skunks, that would easily lift the lid and
escape.
For skunks, cats, weasels, mink, rats, etc., use a piece
of chicken as bait.
For rabbits use bread, turnip, apple, or other vegetable.
The trap should be visited every morning or not used
at all.
THE SECRETS OF THE TRAIL
It was Fenimore Cooper who first put the good Indian
on paper — who called the attention of the world to the
wonderful woodcraft of these most wonderful savages.
370 The Book of Woodcraft
It was he who made white men realize how far they had
got away from the primitive. It was he who glorified
the woodman and his craft. Yet nowhere do we find in
Cooper’s novels any attempt to take us out and show
us this woodcraft. He is content to stand with us afar
off and point it out as something to be worshiped — to
point it out and let it die.
Fenimore Cooper has had many imitators, just as Uncas”
has had many successors. The fine art of trailing is still
maintained in the Far West, and it has always seemed
strange to me that none has endeavored to give it perma-
nent record, other than superlative adjectives of outside
praise. :
TRAILING
What is trailing? The fox-hunter has some idea when
he sees a superb pack follow a faint scent through a hundred
perplexing places, discerning just which way the fox
went, and about how long ago. The detective does another
kind of trailing when he follows some trifling clue through
the world of thought, tracing the secret of an unknown:
man along an invisible path, running it to earth at last in
the very brain that conceived it. In his trailing the
Indian uses the senses of the ‘“‘animal” to aid the brain
of the man. To a great extent his eyes do the work of
the hound’s nose, but the nose is not idle. When the trail
disappears, he must do the human detective work; but
under all circumstances his brains must be backed ba the
finest senses, superb physique, and ripe experience, or
he cannot hope to overmatch his prey.
HARD TO PHOTOGRAPH TRACKS
When, in 1882, I began my dictionary of tracks (see “Life
Histories of Northern Animals’’), I found that there was
Natural History 371
‘no literature on the subject. All facts had to be gathered
directly from Nature. My first attempts at recording
tracks were made with pencil and paper. Next, realizing
how completely the pencil sketch is limited by one’s own
knowledge, I tried photography; but it invariably happens
that not one track in ten thousand is fit for photographing,
and it cannot be taken except when the sun is about thirty
degrees above the horizon — that is, high enough to make
a picture, and low enough to cast a shadow of every detail.
Thus photography was possible only for about an hour in
the early morning and an hour in the late afternoon. But
the opportunity in the meanwhile usually was gone. I then
tried making a plaster cast of the tracks in the mud. Only
one such in a million was castable. As a matter of fact,
none of the finest were in the mud; and the much more
interesting dust-tracks were never within reach of this
method. For most practical purposes I have been forced
to make my records by drawing the tracks.
NO TWO TRACKS ALIKE
The trailer’s first task is to learn the trails he means
to follow. The Red Indian and the Bushman, of course,
simply memorize them from their earliest days, but we
find it helpful and much easier to record them in some way.
Apart from other considerations, a form is always better
comprehended if we reproduce it on paper. As a general
principle, no two kinds of animals leave the same track.
As a matter of fact, no two individuals leave the same
trail. Just as surely as there are differences in size and
disposition, so there will be corresponding differences in
its trail; but this is refining beyond the purposes of prac-
ticability in most cases, and for the present we may be
satisfied to consider it a general rule that each species
372 The Book of Woodcraft
leaves its own clearly recognizable track. One of my daily
pastimes when the snow is on the ground — which is the
easiest and ideal time for the trailer, and especially for the
beginner — is to take up some trail early in the morning
and follow it over hill and dale, carefully noting any change
and every action as written in the snow, and it is a won-
derfully rewarding way of learning the methods and life
of an animal. The trail records with perfect truthfulness
everything that he did or tried to do at a time when he was
unembarrassed by the nearness of his worst enemy.
The trail is an autobiographic chapter of the crea-
ture’s life, written unwittingly, indeed, and in perfect
sincerity.
Whenever in America during the winter I have found
myself with time to pass between trains, I endeavor to
get out into the country, and rarely fail to find and read
one of these more or less rewarding chapters, and thus
get an insight into the life of the animal, as well as into
the kinds that are about; for most quadrupeds are noc-
turnal, and their presence is generally unsuspected by those
who do not know how to read the secrets of the trail.
DOG AND CAT
The first trails to catch the eye and the best for first
study are those nearest home. Two well-marked types
are the tracks of cat and dog. Most anatomists select
the cat as the ideal of muscular and bony structure. It
is the perfect animal, and its track also is a good one ©
to use for standard. (Illustration 1, p. 374.)
In these separate prints the roundness of the toe-pads
tells the softness; their spread from each other shows the
suppleness of the toes; the absence of claw-marks tells of
the retractability of these weapons. The front and hind
Natural History 373
feet are equal in length, but the front feet are broader.
This is the rule among true quadrupeds. ‘The series of
tracks — that is, its trail— shows the manner of the cat
in walking. In this the animal used apparently but two
legs, because the hind foot falls exactly on the trail made
by the front foot, each track being really doubled. This
is perfect tracking. There are several advantages in it.
Every teamster knows that a wagon whose hind wheels °
do not exactly follow the front wheels is a very bad wagon
to haul in sand, snow, ormud. The trail for it has to be
broken twice, and the labor increased, some say, 50
per cent. This same principle holds good in the case of
the cat track: by correct following the animal moves more
easily. But there is still a more important reason. A
hunting cat sneaking through the woods after prey must
keep its eyes on the woods ahead or on the prey itself.
At the very most it may pick out a smooth, safe, silent
place for its front feet to tread on. Especially at the
climax of the hunt all its senses are focussed on the intended
victim; it cannot select a safe spot for each hind foot
in turn, even though the faintest crunch of a dry leaf
will surely spoil the stalk. But there is no danger of that;
the cat can see the spots selected for the front feet, and the
hind feet are so perfectly trained that they seek unerringly
the very same spots—the safe places that the front
feet have just left. Thus perfect stepping is silent stepping,
and is essential to all creatures that stalk their prey.
The opposite kind of stepping is seen in very heavy animals
which frequent marshy ground; to them it would be a
positive disadvantage to set the hind foot in the tread
of the front foot, where so much of the support has just
been destroyed. ‘The ox illustrates this. These principles
are applicable in geology, where the trails are the only
biographical records of certain species. From the manner
374 The Book of Woodcraft
eff
oY
front foot
Bp
C6,
Cae
hind foot hind fant
No. 1 Cat.
No. 2 Dog.
Natural History 375
of setting the feet we can distinguish the predacious and
the marsh-frequenting quadrupeds.
The next track likely to be seen is that of the dog
(Illustration 2). In this the harder, less pliant foot and
the non-retractile claws are clearly seen. But the trail
shows the dog is not a correct walker. His tracks are
“out of register” as a printer would say. And he has
a glaring defect — the result no doubt of domestication,
of long generations on pavements and in houses — he drags
his toes. All these things contribute to make the dog
a noisy walker in the woods.
WOLF
It is well at this time to compare the track of the dog
with that of the wolf. I have made dozens of drawings,
casts, prints, photographs, and studies of wolf and dog
tracks; and have not found a single reliable feature that
will distinguish them. One hunter says the wolf has the
relatively small outer toes. Yes, sometimes; but not
when compared with a collie. Another says that the
wolf’s foot is longer; but not when compared with that
of a greyhound, staghound, or lurcher. Another, the
wolf’s foot is larger; yet it will not rank in size with that
of a St. Bernard or a great Dane. ‘The wolf lifts his feet
neatly without dragging his toes; but so do many dogs,
especially country dogs. Thus all these diagnostics fail.
On the whole a wolf is a better walker than a dog. His
tracks do usually register, but not always, and in some
wolves rarely.
If a wolf-track in the snow be followed for a mile or two,
it will be found to go cautiously up to an unusual or
promising object. (Illustration 3.) It is obviously the
trail of a suspicious, shy creature while the dog-trail
376 The Book of Woodcraft
is direct, and usually unafraid. But this does not
apply to the dogs which poach or kill sheep. There
is therefore no sure means of distinguishing them,
f
Jom
Ce
ane
8
No, 3 Dog and Wolf.
even in the wilderness. One can only judge by prob-
abilities.
I have often heard inexperienced hunters boast that
they could “‘tell them every time”’; but old hunters usually
gay, “No man can teil for sure.”
- ass
a oe
Natural History 377
RABBITS AND HARES
America is well provided with rabbits and hares. A
score or more of species are now recognized, and two very
well-known types are the cottontail of the woods and the
jack-rabbit of the plains.
The cottontail is much like an English rabbit, but it
is a little smaller, has shorter ears, and the whole under
part of the tail is glorified into a fluffy, snowy powder-puff.
It leads the life of a hare, not making burrows, but entering
burrows at times under the stress of danger. The track
of a New England cottontail is given in Illustration 4.
As the cottontail bounds, the hind feet track ahead
of the front feet, and the faster he goes the faster ahead
his hind feet get. This is true of all quadrupeds that bound,
but is more obvious in the rabbits, because the fore and
hind feet differ so much in size.
The jack-rabbit of Kansas is the best known of the
long-eared jacks. His trail, compared with that of the
cottontail, would be as in Illustrations 5 and 6.
The greater size of the marks and the double length
of the bounds are the obvious but not important differ-
ences, because a young jack would come down to the
cottontail standard. ‘The two reliable differences I found
are:
First, the jack’s feet are rarely paired when he is bounding
at full speed, while the cottontail pairs his hind feet but
not his front ones. (Animals which climb usually pair
their front feet in running, just as tree-birds hop when
on the ground.)
Second, the stroke that is shown (x in Illustration 5)
is diagnostic of the southern jack-rabbit; it is the mark
made by the long hanging tail.
Each of the four types of hare common in the temperate
The Book of Woodcraft
*‘punog yr Jj L-€
378
p4qr4yres fo
doy hys
& we ~
= ~~ as
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Gv fe
Seat
No. 6. No. 7.
No. 5 Jack-rabbit
No. 4 Cottontail.
Natural History 379
parts of America has its own style of tail and fashion of
wearing it:
The northern or white-tailed jack carries his snowy-
white tail out straight behind, so its general pure-white
is visible;
The southern or black-tailed jack has his tail jet-black
on the upper part, and he carries it straight down;
The varying hare has an inconsequent, upturned tuft,
like a tear in his brown pantaloons, showing the white
undergarment;
The cottontail has his latter end brown above, but he
keeps it curled up tight on his back, so as to show nothing
but the gleaming white puff of cotton on a helpful back-
ground of rich brown. The cottontail’s tail never touches
the ground except when he sits down on it.
The most variable features of any animal are always
its most specialized features. The jack-rabbit’s tail-piece
is much subject to variation, and the length and depth
of the little intertrack-ial dash that it makes in the snow
is a better guide to the individual that made it than would
be the tracks of all four feet together.
THE NEWTON JACK-RABBIT
During February of 1902, I found myself with a day,
to spare in the hotel office at Newton, Kan. I asked
the usual question, ‘Any wild animals about here?” and
got the usual answer, “‘No, all been shot off.” I walked
down the street four blocks from the hotel, and found
a jack-rabbit trail in the snow. Later I found some
cottontail tracks, though still in town. I walked a mile
into the country, met an old farmer who said that ‘‘No
rabbits were ever found around here.’ A quarter of a
mile away was an orchard, and beside it a fence half buried
380 The Book of Woodcraft
in snow drifts that were yellow with tall dead grass sticking
through. This was promising, so I went thither, and on
the edge of the drift found a jack-rabbit form or den, with
fresh tracks leading out and away at full speed. ‘There
were no tracks leading in, so he must have gone in there
before the last snow came, and that was the night before.
When a jack runs without fear of any enemy at hand,
he goes much like a fox or an antelope, leaving a trail, as
in No. 5. But when an enemy is close at hand he runs
with long, low hops, from six to seven in succession, then
gives an upright leap to take an observation, leaving
a trail thus. (Illustration 7.)
A silly young jack will lose time by taking one in three
for observation, but a clever old fellow is content with one
in ten. Here was the trail of this jack straight away, but
taking about one observation in twelve hops. He had
made a fence a quarter-mile off, and there had sat for some
time observing, had then taken alarm and run toward a
farmyard, a quarter-mile farther, taking occasional observa- —
tions. A dog was lying on a doorstep by the road, and
past this dog he had run, doing twenty-foot leaps. ‘Two
hundred yards down this road he had turned abruptly,
as though a human still in sight had scared him. I now
began to think the jack was near at hand, although so far
I had not seen him. The trail led through several barbed-
wire fences and some hedges, then made for another barn-
yard half a mile off. Iwas now satisfied that he was only a
little ahead of me, therefore I ceased watching the track so
closely, watching rather the open plain ahead; and far on,
under a barbed-wire fence, sitting up watching me, I soon
saw my jack. He ran at once, and the line of his hops, was
so — (Illustration 8) — the high ones being for observation.
{ \ No. 8. ‘ \ r\
CEE Ee NS Ae eae
Natural History 381
He never let me get within two hundred yards, and he
wasted but little time in observation. He had now taken
me on a two-mile circuit and brought me back to the
starting point. So he had taught me this—a cunning
old jack-rabbit lived in the region around which I had
followed him, for they keep to their homeground. All
his ways of running and observing, and of using barbed-
ZC)
Lin, (CR
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bi
<
No.9. Where the Jack-rabbit’s track was doubled
- wire fences, barnyards, and hedges, showed that he was
very clever; but the best proof of that was in the fact
that he could live and flourish on the edge of a town that
was swarming with dogs and traveled over daily by men
with guns.
The next day I had another opportunity of going to the
jack-rabbit’s home region. I did not see himself; but
382 The Book of Woodcrait
I saw his fresh tracks. Later, I saw these had joined on |
to the fresh tracks of another rabbit. I sketched all the
salient points and noted how my big jack had followed
the other. They had dodged about here and there, and
then one had overtaken the other, and the meeting had
been the reverse of unfriendly. I give the record that
4
'
}
I sketched out there in the snow. I may be wrong, but —
I argue from this that the life of the hardy jack was not
without its pleasures. (llustration 9.)
FOX
Of more general interest perhaps is the track of the fox.
I have spent many days — yes, and nights —on the
trail, following, following patiently, reading this life of the
beast, using notebook at every important march and
change. Many an odd new sign has turned up to be put
on record and explained by later experience. Many a
day has passed with nothing tangible in the way of reward;
then, as in all hunting, there has come a streak of luck,
a shower of facts and abundant reward for the barren
weeks gone by, an insight into animal ways and mind
that could not have been obtained in any other way.
For here it is written down by the animal itself in the
oldest of all writing —a chapter of the creature’s normal
life.
One day, soon after the snow had come, I set out on one
of the long decipherments. The day before I had followed
a fox-trail for three or four miles, to learn only that he
tacked up wind and smelt at every log, bump, and tree
that stuck through the snow; that he had followed a
white hare at full speed, but was easily left behind when
the hare got into his ancient safety — the scrubby, brushy
woods.
Natural History 383
This morning I took up another fox-trail. The frost
was intense, the snow was dry and powdery and as each
foot was raised it fell back; so that the track was merely
shapeless dimples in the whiteness. No tell-tale details
of toes and claws were there, but still I knew it for a
fox-trail. It was too small for a coyote. There were
but two others that might have been confounded with it;
one a very large house-cat, the other a very small house-
dog.
The fox has the supple paw of the cat. It spreads even
more, but it shows the long, intractile claws. As a stepper
the fox ranks close to the cat. His trail is noted also
for its narrowness — that is, the feet are set nearly in one
straight line. This in a trail usually means a swift animal;
while the badly spread marks, seen at a maximum in the
badger, stand for great but sluggish strength. (Illustra-
tion 10.)
The region put the cat out of the reckoning. Besides,
at one or two places, the paw had grazed the snow, showing
two long furrows, the marks of claws that do not sheathe:
dog-marks, perhaps, but never a cat’s. The marks were
aligned like a cat’s, but were fourteen inches apart, while
it is rare for a cat to step more than ten.
They were not dog-marks: first, the probabilities were
against it; second, the marks were nearly in a line, showing
a chest too narrow for a dog. ‘Then the toes did not drag,
though there was four inches of snow. The register
could not be distinguished, but there was one feature
that settled all doubt —the big, soft, shallow marks
of the fox’s brush, sometimes sweeping the snow
at every yard, sometimes not at all for fifty steps, and
telling me with certainty, founded in part on the other
things — ‘‘This is the trail of a fox.”
Which way is he going? is the next question, not easy
384 The Book of Woodcraft
to answer when the toe-marks do not show; but this is —
settled by the faint claw-marks already noted. If still
in doubt, I can follow till the fox chances on some place —
under a thick tree or on ice where there is very little snow, —
and here a distinct impression may be found. I have ©
a” A
° r
& 1
a * \.
No. tro.
often seen a curiously clear track across ice made by a ~
gentle breeze blowing away all the snow except that pressed —
down hard by the impact of the toes, so that the black —
ice under has a row of clear-cut, raised tracks, a line of fox-
track cameos, cut sharp on a black-ice base.
Natural History 385
THE FOX’S HUNT
For a mile or two I followed my fox. Nothing happened.
I got only the thought that his life was largely made up
of nose investigation and unfavorable reports from the
committee in charge. Then we came to a long, sloping
hollow. The fox trotted down this, and near its lower
end he got a nose report of importance for he had swung
to the right and gone slowly — so said the short steps —
zigzagging up the wind. Within fifteen feet, the tacks
in the course shortened from four or five feet to nothing,
and ended in a small hole in a bank. From this the
fox had pulled out a common, harmless garter-snake,
torpid, curled up there doubtless to sleep away the winter.
The fox chopped the snake across the spine with his
powerful meat-cutters, killed it thus, dropped it on
the snow, and then, without eating a morsel of it as
far as I could see, he went on with his hunt. (llustra-
tion 11 A.)
Why he should kill a creature that he could not eat
I could not understand. I thought that ferocious sort of
vice was limited to man and weasels, but clearly the fox
was guilty of the human crime.
The dotted guide led me now, with many halts and
devious turns, across a great marsh that had doubtless
furnished many a fattened mouse in other days, but now
the snow and ice forbade the hunt. On the far end the
country was open in places, with clumps of timber, and into
this, from the open marsh, had blown a great bank of
soft and drifted snow.
Manitoban winters are not noted for their smiling
geniality or profusion of outdoor flowers. Frost and snow
are sure to come early and continue till spring. The
thermometer may be for weeks about zero point. It
386 The Book of Woodcraft
may on occasion dip down to thirty, yes, even forty,
degrees below, and whenever with that cold there also —
comes a gale of wind, it conjures up the awful tempest
of the snow that is now of world-wide fame as—the blizzard.
f
:
;
;
No. 11. The mG of the Fox’s hunt.
The blizzard is a terror to wild life out on the plains. When —
it comes the biggest, strongest, best clad, rush for shelter. ,
They know that to face it means death. The prairie
chickens or grouse have learned the lesson long ago. What
shelter can they seek? There is only one —an Eskimo —
Natural History 387
shelter — a snow house. They can hide in the shelter of
the snow.
As the night comes, with the fearful frost and driving
clouds of white, the chickens dive into a_ snowdrift;
not on the open plain, for there the snow is hammered
hard by the wind, but on the edge of the woods, where
tall grass spears or scattering twigs stick up through
and keep the snow from packing. Deep in this the chickens
dive, each making a place for itself. The wind wipes out
all traces, levels off each hole and hides them well. There
they remain till morning, warm and safe, unless — and
here is the chief danger —some wild animal comes by
during the night, finds them in there, and seizes them before
they can escape.
This chapter of grouse history was an old story to the
fox and coming near the woodland edge, his shortened
steps showed that he knew it for a Land of Promise. (Illus-
tration 11, B.)
At C he came to a sudden stop. Some wireless message
on the wind had warned him of game at hand. He paused
here with foot upraised. I knew it, for there was his record
of the act. ‘The little mark there was not a track, but
the paw-tip’s mark, showing that the fox had not set the
foot down, but held it poised in a pointer-dog pose, as
his nose was harkening to the tell-tale wind.
Then from C to D he went slowly, because the steps
were so short, and now he paused: the promising scent
was lost. He stood in doubt, so said the tell-tale snow
in the only universal tongue. Then the hunter turned
and slowly worked toward E, while frequent broad
touches in the snow continued the guarantee that the
maker of these tracks was neither docked nor spindle-
tailed.
From E to F the shortened steps, with frequent
388 The Book of Woodcraft
marks of pause and pose, showed how the scent was
warming — how well the fox knew some good thing
was near.
At F he stood still for some time with both feet set down —
in the snow, so it was written. Now was the critical
time, and straight up the redolent wind he went, following
his nose, cautiously and silently as possible, realizing
that now a single heedless step might spoil the hunt.
CLOSING IN
At G were the deeply imprinted marks of both hind
feet, showing where the fox sprang just at the moment
when, from the spotless snowdrift just ahead, there broke
out two grouse that had been slumbering below. Away
they went with a whirr, whirr, fast as wing could bear
them; but one was just a foot too slow; the springing fox
secured him in the air. At H he landed with him on the
prairie, and had a meal that is a fox’s ideal in time of
plenty; and now, in deep hard winter, it must have been
a banquet of delight.
Now for the first time I saw the meaning of the dead
garter-snake far back on the trail. Snake at no time
is nice eating, and cold snake on a cold day must be a mighty
cold meal. Clearly the fox thought so. He would rather
take a chance of getting something better. He killed
the snake; so it could not get away. It was not likely
any one would steal from him that unfragrant carcass,
so he would come back and get it later if he must.
But as we see, he did not have to do so. His faith and |
patience were amply justified. Instead of a cold, unpleasant
snake, he fed on a fine hot bird.
Thus I got a long, autobiographical chapter of fox-life by
simply following his tracks through the snow (see heading). —
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389
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390 The Book of Woodcraft
I never once saw the fox himself that made it, and yet I ©
know — and you know — it to be true as I have told it.
Deer.
BOOKS AND ARTICLES RECOMMENDED
‘Tracks in the Snow,” By E. T. Seton, St. Nicholas,
March, 1888, p. 338, many diagrams, etc.
‘‘American Woodcraft,” By E. T. Seton. 2 articles on
tracks of animals. Ladies’ Home Journal. May and June,
1902, many illustrations. é
“The Life Histories of Northern Animals,’ Two large —
volumes by Ernest Thompson Seton, dealing with habits —
of animals, and give tracks of nearly all. Scribners, —
1909.
“Tracks and Tracking,” Joseph Brunner.
“The Official Handbook,” Boy Scouts of America.
Doubleday, Page & Co. 50 cents.
“Mammals of the Adirondacks,” By C. Hart Merriam, ~
M.D. Henry Holt & Co., New York City, Price $2. ;
XIV. Mushrooms, Fungi,
or Toadstools
Abundance
Gece that during the night a swarm of fairies
were to enter our home woods and decorate it on
ground and trunk, with the most strange and won-
derful fruits, of new sorts, unheard of in shapes and colors,
some like fans, with colored lacework, some like carrots,
others like green and gold balloons, some like umbrellas,
spring bonnets, birds’ nests, barbers’ poles, and Indian
clubs, many like starfish and skulls, others imitating corals
and others lilies, bugles, oysters, beefsteaks, and wine cups,
resplendent with every color of the rainbow, delicious to
eat, coming from nowhere, hanging on no plant and dis-
appearing in a few days leaving no visible seed or remnant
— we should think it very strange; we might even doubt
our eyesight and call it all a pure fairy tale. Yet this very
miracle is what happens every year in our land. At least
2,000 different kinds of toadstools or mushrooms spring up
in their own mysterious way. Of this 2,000 at least 1,000
are good to eat. But—and here is the dark and danger-
ous fact — about a dozen of them are Amanitas, which are
known to be deadly poison. And as ill-luck will have it these
are the most widely diffused and the most like mushrooms.
All the queer freaks, like clubs and corals, the cranks and
tomfools, in droll shapes and satanic colors, the funny
poisonous looking morels, ink-caps and boleti are good
39r
392 The Book of Woodcraft
wholesome food but the deadly Amanitas are like ordinary
mushrooms, except that they have grown a little thin,
delicate and anemic.
DANGERS
The New York papers have told of over twenty deaths
this August (1911) through toadstool poisoning. The
explanation possibly lies in a recorded conversation that
took place between a field naturalist and a little Italian
who was indiscriminatingly collecting toadstools.
““You are not going to eat those toadstools, I hope?”
““No! me no eata de toad. My mudder she eata de toad
and die; me no eata de toad; me sella de toad.”
All American boys are brought up with a horror of toad-
stools that compares only with their horror of snakes and
it is perhaps as well. I do not want to send our boys out
heedlessly to gather toadstools for the table, but I want to
safeguard those who are interested by laying down one or
two general rules.
This is the classification of toadstools that naturally
occurs to the woodcrafter: Which are eatable and Which
are not. .
Those which are not fit for food, may be so, first, because
toc hard and woodlike, and, second, because pozsonous.
The great fact that every boy should know is which
are the poisonous toadstools. Mark Twain is credited
with suggesting a sure test: ‘‘Hat them. If you live they ~
are good, if you die they are poisonous.” ‘Thisisanexample
of a method that can be conclusive, without being satis-
factory.
What way can we suggest for general use?
First, remember that there is nothing at all in the popular
idea that poisonous mushrooms turn silver black.
Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 393
Next, ‘‘not one of the fungi known to be deadly gives
warning by appearance or flavor of the presence of poison.”’
(MclIlvaine.)
The color of the cap proves nothing. The color of the
spores, however, does tell a great deal; which is unfortunate
as one cannot get a spore print in less than several hours.
But it is the first step in identification; therefore the Scout
should learn to make a spore print of each species he
would experiment with.
To make spore prints. Cover some sheets of blue or
dark gray paper with a weak solution of gum arabic — one
tablespoonful of dry gum to one pint of water; let this dry.
Unless you are in a hurry in which case use it at once.
Take the cap of any full-grown toadstool, place it gill
side down upon the gummed paper, cover tightly with a
bowl or saucer and allow to stand undisturbed for eight or
ten hours. The moisture in the plant will soften the
gummed surface if it is dry; the spores will be shed and
will adhere to it, making a perfect, permanent print. Write
the name, date, etc., on it and keep for reference. Some
of the papers should be black to show up the white spored
kinds.
It will be found most practical for the student to divide
all mushrooms, not into two, but into three, groups.
First. A very small group of about a dozen that are
poisonous and must be let alone.
Second. A very large group that are good wholesome
food.
Third. Another very large group that are probably
good and worthy of trial if it is done judiciously, but have
not yet been investigated.
Scientists divide them into:
Gilled toadstools
Pore bearers
394 The Book of Woodcraft
Spiny toadstools
Coral toadstools
. Puffballs
All the virulently poison ones as well as the most delici-
ous are in the first group.
POISONOUS TOADSTOOLS
The only deadly poisonous kinds are the Amanitas.
Others may purge and nauseate or cause vomiting, but it is
believed that every recorded death from toadstool poison-
ing was caused by an Amanita, and unfortunately they are
not only widespread and abundant, but they are 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, a ring around the stalk, and
white spores.
First of these is the
Deathcup, Destroying Angel, Sure-Death or Deadly Ama-
nita (Amanita phalloides), one and one half to five inches
across the cup; three to seven inches high; pure white,
green, yellowish, olive, or grayish brown; smooth, but
sticky when moist; gills below; spores white; on the stem is
an annulus or ring just white the cap, and the long stalk
arises out of a hollow bulb or cup; usually it is solitary.
A number of forms have been described as separate, but
which are considered by Professor McIlvaine as mere vari-
eties of the phalloides —namely, the Virulent Amanita
(virosa), shining white with a cap at first conical and acute;
Spring Amanita (verna), like virosa, but showing a more
persistent and closely sheathing remains of the wrapper at
the base of the stem; Big-veiled Amanita (magnivelaris),
like verna, but has a large persistent annulus, and the bulb
eS Oe ee eee ee eee
9
Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 395
of the stem is elongated tapering downward; the Napkin
Amanitas (mappa), volva circularly split; but all will be
known by the four characters, poison-cup, ring, white or
yellowish gills, and the form shown in the diagram — and
all are deadly poison.
Amanita phalloides.
This wan demon of the woods is probably the deadliest
of all vegetable growths. To this pale villain or its kin is
traced the responsibility for all deaths on record from toad-
stool poisoning. There have been cases of recovery when a
strong man got but a little of the poison, but any one mak-
ing a meal of this fungus, when beyond reach of medical aid,
has but a poor chance of escape. Its poison is a subtle
alkaloid akin to rattlesnake venom, it rarely begins to show
396 The Book of Woodcraft
its effects, until too late for treatment, the victim is beyond
human help, and slowly succumbs. For centuries its
nature has been a mystery; it has defied all remedies, only
lately have we begun to win a little in the fight with this
insidious assassin.
There are thousands of tons of delicious food spread in our
Fly amanita.
woods and pastures every year, and allowed to go to waste
because of the well-founded terror of the Deathcup. Every
one should make a point of learning its looks and smash-
ing all he can find, together with the half-formed young
ones about it. We may not succeed in exterminating
the pale fiend, but we can at least put that individual be-
yond doing mischief or giving forth seeds.
Hated Amanita (A. spreta). (Poisonous.) Four to six
inches high, three to five inches across the cap, with a bump
in the middle, whitish or pale or rich brown, gills white, a
Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 397
large loose yellowish poison cup; the stem tapers above the
ring and at the base and is tinged reddish brown in the
middle. .
Fly Amanita (A. muscaria). (Poisonous.) About the
same size; mostly yellow but ranging from orange red to
almost white usually with raised white spot sor scales on the
top; gills white—or tinged yellow, spores white; flesh, white.
Frost’s Amanita (A. frostiana). (Poisonous.) This is
another gorgeous demon, small but brilliant and deadly.
It is two to three inches high, with the cap one to two inches
broad. The cap is brilliant scarlet, orange or yellow and
warty, fluted on the margin. The gills are white or tinged
yellow, the spores white; the stem white or yellow and the
bulb margined above with a smooth collar or ring. A
woodland specimen, no doubt responsible, McIlvaine thinks,
for the bad reputation of the scarlet Russula which is harm-
less but resembles this.
Tall Deathcup (A. excelsa). (Poisonous.) This tall
and lonely pirate of the beech woods is about four to six
inches in stature as it stands in its cup, and four to five
inches across the top which is brownish gray, fleshy and
sticky, often wrinkled and covered with tiny warts, edge of
cap fluted; gills white; stem covered with scales on its lower
parts at least.
There are about twenty more of the Amanitas, varying in
size and color, but most have the general style of tall flat
mushrooms, and the label marks of poison viz: White or
yellow gills, a poison cup, and white spores. They are not
known to be poisonous. Some of them are good eating.
One of them, the
King Cap or Royal Mushroom. (A. Caesarea), is said to
be the finest of all mushrooms. This magnificent and fa-
mous toadstool is three to eight inches across the cap which
is smooth and of a gorgeous red orange or yellow color; gills
398 The Book of Woodcraft
yellow, though the spores are white; stem yellow; the cap is
very flat when fully expanded and always is finely grooved
or fluted on the upper edge. This is not only eatable but
famous, yet it is so much like certain poisonous forms that
it is better let alone. Indeed it is best for the beginner to
accept the emphatic warning given by Mcllvaine and
Macadam, in their standard work ‘“‘100o American Fungi”
(p. XVII):
‘“‘ Any toadstool with white or lemon-yellow gills, casting
white spores when laid — gills downward — upon a sheet
of paper, having remnants of a fugitive skin in the shape
of scabs or warts upon the upper surface of its cap, with a
veil or: ring, or remnants or stains of one, having at the base
of its stem — in the ground — a loose, skinlike sheath sur-
rounding it, or remnants of one,” should be considered
deadly poison till the contrary is proved by good authority.
This may make you reject some wholesome kinds, but
will surely keep you from danger.
If by ill chance any one has eaten a poisonous Amanita,
the effects do not begin to show till sixteen or eighteen
hours afterward — that is, long after the poison has passed
through the stomach and begun its deadly work on the
nerve centres.
Symptoms. Vomiting and purging, ‘‘the discharge from
the bowels being watery with small flakes 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 convul-
sions, and finally stupor. (McIlvaine and Macadam ~
Dp: 627%)
Remedy: ‘‘Take an emetic at once, and send for a phy-
sician with instructions to bring hypodermic syringe and
uy
Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 399
atropine sulphate. The dose is 74 of a grain, and doses
should be continued heroically until 3/5 of a grain is ad-
ministered, or until, in the physician’s opinion, a proper
quantity has been injected. Where the victim is critically
ill the ~!; of a grain may be administered.” (McIlvaine
and Macadam XVII.)
tr iW 7
ih
Woolty or Burning
Fussols emetita’ Marasmius
3ZOct.qu.
Unwholesome.
UNWHOLESOME BUT NOT DEADLY TOADSTOOLS
There is another group that are emetic or purgative or
nauseating, but not deadly. ‘These it is well to know.
Morgan’s Lepiota (Lepiota morgani), six to eight inches
high and five to nine or even twelve inches across the cap:
400 The Book of Woodcraft
Cup, white dotted over with fragments of a brownish or
yellowish skin; gills, white at first, then green; spores, green;
flesh, white, but changing to a reddish then yellowish when
cut or bruised. ‘This immense toadstool is found in mead-
ows all summer long, usually in rings of many individuals;
it is poisonous to some and not to others, but is never deadly
so far as known.
Sulphur Tricholoma (Triczoloma suphureum), two to
four inches high: cap one to four inches apart, dingy or red-
dish sulphur yellow above; flesh, thick and yellow; spores,
white; stem, yellow inside and out; has a bad smell and a
worse taste; is considered noxious if not actively poisonous.
It is the only inedible Tricholoma known.
Deceiving Clitocybe (Clitocybe illudens). This grows
in clusters on rotten stumps or trees from August to Octo-
ber. It is everywhere of a deep yellow or orange, often it is
phosphorescent. Each plant is four to six inches across the
cap and five to eight inches high. It is usually nauseating
and emetic.
Russula (Russula emetica). This is known at once by its
exquisite rosy red cap, and its white gills, flesh and stalk.
Sometimes the last is tinged rosy. It is a short stemmed
mushroom two to four inches high; its cap pinkish when
young, dark red or rosy red when older, fading to straw
color in age; its gills and spores, white. Its peppery taste
when raw is a fairly safe identification. In most books it is
classed as ‘‘slightly poisonous,” but McIlvaine maintains
that it is perfectly wholesome. I know that I never yet
saw one that was not more or less gnawed by the discrimi-
nating little wood folk that know a good thing when they
smell it.
Woolly or Burning Marasmius (Marasmius urens), two
to three inches high; cap two to three inches wide, pale yel-
lowish, becoming paler; spores, white; gills, brown, paler
Mushrooms, Fungi or Toadstools 401
at first; stem, woolly pungent. Poisonous to some persons
but never deadly.
Puckery Panus (Panus stipticus). Cap one half to
one inch across, cinnamon color; gills, cinnamon; spores,
white; stem, under one inch long, paler than the gills;
grows on stumps and in bunches: noted for its extreme
acridity; said to be a purgative poison.
Sticky Volva (Volvaria gloiocephelus). Cap about three
inches across; with a grayish bump in the middle, dark
opaque brown and sticky and lined at the edge; stem, six or
more inches high and one half an inch thick, brownish, a
few fibres on outside; gills, reddish; spores, pink; volva or
poison cup, downy, splitting into several unequal lobes.
Said to be poisonous.
The Entolomas or the Fringed Entolomas. .There are
several of this genus that are poisonous or at least suspici-
ous. They are of any size up to six or seven inches high
and four or six inches broad, with pink spores and gills
and sinuate gills.
About twenty species are described and though some are
edible they are better let alone, unlike most of the unwhole-
some kinds their odor is agreeable.
Pie-Shaped Hebeloma. (Hebeloma crustoliniforme). Cap,
pale tan, yellow, or brick color, a bump in middle;
gills, whitish, then clay color, variable in size; spores, yel-
low. Smells strongly and unpleasantly of radish.
This completes the list of gilled mushrooms given as
unwholesome in McIlvaine and Macadam.
White Clavaria (Clavaria dichotoma). Of all the coral
mushrooms this is the only one known to be poisonous. It
is not deadly but very unwholesome. It grows on the
ground under beeches and is fortunately very rare. It is
known by its white color and its branches dividing regu-
larly by pairs.
402 The Book of Woodcraft
WHOLESOME TOADSTOOLS
With all these warnings and cautions about the poison- :
ous kinds before us, we shall now be able to approach in a
proper spirit, the subject of Toadstool eating, and consider —
Oyster Mushrooms.
the second of our groups. These are the good safe Toad-
stools or Mushrooms — for it is the same thing. |
The Common Mushroom (Agaricus campestris). Known
at once by its general shape and smell, its pink or brown
gills, white flesh, brown spores and solid stem. It grows
in the open, never in the woods.
Oyster Mushroom (Pleurotus ostreatus). Many of us
Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 403
have oyster beds in our woods without knowing it, and the
oyster mushroom is a good example of valuable food going
to waste. It is found growing in clusters on old dead wood,
logs or standing trunks. Its cap is smooth, moist and white
or tinged with ash or brown. The gills and spores are
white. The flesh is white and tough. It measures two or
six inches across. Sometimes it has no stem. It is a
favorite for the table. It needs careful cleaning and long
cooking. There is no poisonous species at all like it.
Also, belonging to the Gilled or true mushroom family, are
the Ink-caps of the Genus Coprinus. They grow on dung
piles and rich ground. They spring up over night and per-
ishinaday. In the last stage the gills turn into a black
- fluid, yes, into ink. At one time this was used for ink, a
quantity of the black stuff being boiled and strained for the
purpose. It is still a good scout dye for roots, quills, etc.
The spores of Coprinus are black. It is strange that such
poisonous looking things
should be good food.
Yet all the authorities
agree that the Ink-caps
are safe, delicious, easily
identified and _ easily
cooked. There is no poi-
sonous mushroom with
black spores at present
known in North Amer-
ica.
Inky Coprinus (Co-
prinus atramentarius).
This is the species illus-
trated. The example
was from the woods;
often it is much more
fT
these)
| BN
1 ‘
404 The Book of Woodcraft
tall and graceful. The cap is one to three inches in diam-
eter, grayish or grayish brown, sometimes tinged lead color.
Stew or bake from twenty to thirty minutes after thor-
ough washing, is the recognized mode of cooking it.
Beefsteak Mushroom (Fistulina hepatica). This juicy
red mushroom grows chiefly on the chestnut stumps.
In color it varies from strawberry red to liver brown, not
unlike raw meat, paler below. When wounded it bleeds.
Beefsteak mushrooms.
Note that it has tubes, not gills, below. ‘When properly
prepared it is equal to any kind of meat. It is one of our
best mushrooms.” (M. E. Hard.) Sometimes. sliced
and served raw as a salad.
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 and very rare.
The edible ones are of the types illustrated. They are
yellow, buff or dingy brown; two to four inches high.
Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 405
Moose horn Red tipped Golden coral!
clavaria. clavaria. mushroom.
To cook Clavarias, Wash thoroughly, but do not peel.
Fry or stew without salt, on a slow fire for half an hour,
then add salt and other seasoning.
Morels. According to M. E. Hard the morels are easily
known by their deeply pitted naked heads. All are yellow-
ish brown when young; the stems are stout, hollow and
whitish. McIlvaine & Macadam in discussing dangerous
mushrooms, say: ‘‘Not one of the morels is even sus-
picious.”
To cook morels: Thoroughly wash to remove all grit
FA Gyro milva
esculents.
& iy
Delitious Morel
Pufiballs.
406 The Book of Woodcraft
te Puffballs (Ly-
Li/y NSE coperdaceae).
The next im-
portant and
safe group are
the Puffballs be-
fore they begin to
puff. All our
puffballs when
young and solid
white inside are
good, wholesome
; = food. Some of
sires them, like the
Brain Puffball or the Giant Puffball, are occasionally a foot
in diameter, and yield flesh enough to feed a dozen persons.
They are well known to all who live in the country, their
smooth, rounded exterior without special features, except
the roots, and their solid white interior are easily remem-
bered. But one must take great care in gathering the
very small ones as the poisonous toadstools in the button
stage resemble small puffballs externally. However, a sec-
tion shows the cap, stem, etc., of the former, whereas puff-
balls are solid without any obvious inner structure.
The principal kinds are these:
Pear Puffball (Lycoperdon pyriforme). Usually
found in masses on the ground or on old timber. It is
pinkish brown, and rarely over one inch in diameter.
Brain Puffball (Calvatia craniiformis). On the ground
in woods. Pale grayish often with a reddish tinge, some-
times wrinkled on top, sometimes smooth. Commonly six
to eight inches high.
Giant Puffball (Calvatia gigantea). Eight to twenty
inches in diameter. McIlvaine found one weighing nine
of a clusltr es
Wy! Kocligir
os
Pear
' Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 407
pounds and heard of one weighing forty. In color it is
white becoming grayish, yellowish or brown. In shape
nearly round with a strong root. It is found in grassy
places. MclIlvaine says that we can cut slices from a
growing one, day after day, and, if we do not disturb the
root, it keeps on neither dying nor ripening for many
days.
Cuplike Puffball (Calvatia cyathiformis). Three to six
inches in diameter, dull pinkish or ashy brown, often
covered with a network of white cracks. Common on
open grassy places.
SR.
Brain Puffball
Morels.
To cook Pufiballs: Wash clean, peel (other kinds are
not peeled), cut out any discolored parts, slice and fry in
lard or butter with seasoning.
UNCERTAIN KINDS
Now for the vast number of uncertain toadstools.
Remembering always that any harmless-looking species,
like a long-legged anemic mushroom or like a pretty white
parasol, is probably deadly Amanita or Sure-death, and
that an odd poisonous-looking freak like a coral, a poker, a
408 The Book of Woodcraft
bugle, a bird’s nest, a spring bonnet or an Indian club, is
likely to be wholesome, we may follow the suggestions of
the authors already cited (p. xxxii), as follows:
“There is but one way to determine the edibility of a
species. If it looks and smells inviting, and its species can-
not be determined, taste a very small piece. Do not swal-
low it. Note the effect on the tongue and mouth. But
many species, delicious when cooked, are not inviting raw.
Cook a small piece; do not season it. Taste again; if
agreeable eat it (unless it is an Amanita). After several
hours, no unpleasant effect arising, cook a larger piece,
and increase the quantity until fully satisfied as to its
qualities. Never vary from this system, no matter how
much tempted. No possible danger can arise from adher-
ing firmly to it.”
Safety lies in the strict observance of two rules:
“Never eat a toadstool found in the woods or shady
places, believing it to be the common mushroom: Never
eat a white — or yellow-gilled toadstool in the same be-
lief. The common mushroom does not grow in the woods,
and its gills are at first pink, then purplish brown, or
black.”
Also there are many mushrooms of the Genus Boletus
that are like ordinary mushrooms of various pale and
bright colors, but instead of gills they have tubes under-
neath. Some are eatable, some are dangerous. Avoid all
that change color as being wounded or that have red-
mouthed tubes or that taste peppery or acrid.
“There is no general rule by which one may know an
edible species from a poisonous species. One must learn
to know each kind by its appearance, and the edibility of
each kind by experiment,” says Nina L. Marshall in the ~
‘“‘Mushroom Book” (page 151), and gives the following:
Mushrooms, Fungi, or Toadstools 409
CAUTIONS FOR THE INEXPERIENCED
Never use specimens which are decomposed in the slight-
est degree.
Never use those which are at all burrowed by insects.
Never collect for food mushrooms in the button stage,
as it is difficult for a novice to distinguish the buttons of
poisonous species from buttons of harmless species.
Never use fungi with swollen bases surrounded by sac-
like or scaly envelopes.
Never use fungi with milky juice or any juice unless it is
the reddish.
Never use fungi with caps thin in proportion to the width
of the gills when the gills are nearly all of equal length,
especially if the caps are bright colored.
Never use for food tube-bearing fungi in which the flesh
changes color when cut or broken, nor those with the tubes
reddish. Be very cautious with all fleshy tube-bearing fungi.
Never use for food fungi with web-like ring around the
upper part of the stem.
MUSHROOM GROWING
Mushroom growing is a good way to make some money,
provided one has a cellar or roothouse at one’s disposal.
To learn how, send to the United States Department of
Agriculture, for Farmers’ Bulletin, No. 204, ““The Culti-
vation of Mushrooms.”
BOOKS RECOMMENDED
The following are standard and beautifully illustrated
works on mushrooms and toadstools; they have been freely
used for guidance and illustrations in the preparation of the
above:
410 The Book of Woodcraft
“Edible and Poisonous Fungi of New York,” by Char-
les H. Peck. Published by New York State Museum,
Albany, 1895.
“Edible Fungi of New York.” by Charles H. Peck.
Published by New York State Museum, Albany, 1900.
“The Mushroom Book.” by Nina L. Marshall. Pub-
lished 1902 at New York by Doubleday, Page & Co. $3.50.
“One Thousand American Fungi,’ by Mcllvaine &
Macadam. $5. Published by the Bobbs-Merrill Company
of Indianapolis, 1902; add 4o cents express.
“Mushrooms,” by G. F. Atkinson. Holt & Co.
“The Mushroom,” by M. E. Hard. The Ohio Library
Company. Columbus, Ohio.
XV. Forestry
Fifty Common Forest Trees of Eastern
North America
Waite Pine, WeymMoutH PINE (Pinus Strobus)
NOBLE evergreen tree, up to 175 feet high. The
A lumberman’s prize. Its leaves are in bunches of
5, and are 3 to 5 inches long; cones 4 to 8 inches
long. Wood pale, soft, straight-grained, easily split.
Warps and checks less than any other of our timbers.
A cubic foot weighs 24 lbs. (a cubic foot of water
weighs 63 Ibs.). Minn. & Man. to Nova Scotia and
Penna.
RED PINE, CANADIAN PINE, Norway Prine (Pinus resinosa)
Evergreen; somewhat less than the White Pine, with
leaves 4 to 6 inches long, in bunches of 2, cones 13 to 23
inches long. Wood darker, harder and heavier. A cubic
foot weighs 30 lbs. Range as above.
411
412 The Book of Woodcraft
Long-Leafed Pine
AWN Wil \
Qaay Wi i
eg 77} “iG, \ ic a
{ | y bi: |
pecan
Forestry 413
Lonc-LEAVED PINE, GEORGIA PINE, SOUTHERN PINE,
YELLOW Pine, Harp Pine (Pinus palustris)
A fine tree, up to 100 feet high; evergreen; found in great
forests in the Southern States; it supplies much of our
lumber now; and most of our turpentine, tar and rosin.
Wood strong and hard, a cubic foot weighs 44 lbs. Its
leaves are 10 to 16 inches long, and are in bunches of 3’s;
cones, 6 to roincheslong. Range, Va. to La. & Fla.
TAMARACK, LARCH OR HackMATACK (Larix laricina)
A tall, straight, tree of the northern swamps yet often
found flourishing on dry hillsides. One of the few conifers
that shed all their leaves each fall. Leaves } to 1 inch long;
cones 3 to inch. Wood very resinous heavy and hard, “a
hard, soft wood” very durable as posts, in Manitoba I
have seen tamarack fence posts unchanged after twenty
years’ wear. It is excellent for firewood, and makes good
sticks for a rubbing-stick fire. A cubic foot weighs 39 lbs.
Found north nearly to the limit of trees; south to northern
New Jersey and Minnesota.
WHITE SPRUCE (Picea canadensis)
Evergreen; 60 to 70 or even 150 feet high. Leaves 3 to
2 inch long; cones 14 to 2 inches long, are at the tips of the
branches and deciduous; the twigs smooth. Wood white,
414 The Book of Woodcraft
light, soft, weak, straight-grained, not durable; a cubic
foot weighs 25 lbs. Its roots afford the waitap or cordage
for canoe-building and camp use generally. North to the
limit of trees east of Rockies, south to Dakota, Wis. &
Maine.
HeMiock (Tsuga canadensis)
Evergreen; 60 to 70 feet high; occasionally 100; wood
pale, soft, coarse, splintery, not durable. A cubic foot
weighs 26 lbs. Bark full of tannin. Leaves 3 to } inch
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. Wis. to Nova Scotia and south on the mts. to
Georgia.
BALSAM TREE OR CANADA Batsam (Abies balsamea)
Evergreen; famous for the blisters on its trunk, yielding
Canada balsam which makes a woodman’s plaster for cuts
or a waterproof cement; and for the exquisite odor of its
boughs, which also supply the woodmen’s ideal bed. Its
Forestry AIS
flat leafage is distinctive. Wood pale, weak, soft, perish-
able. LE
(Hicoria ovata) ee
SSe=,
A tall forest tree up to . YQ
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. The wood
is very light in
color,close-grained,
tough and elastic.
It makes an excel-
lent bow; is the best
of fuel.
ten minutes.
I could not understand the pointing to the west, but five ©
minutes after the teepee was down a dark spot appeared;
this became a cloud and in a short time we were in the midst ;
of a wind-storm that threw down all teepees that were —
without the anchor rope, and certainly the red teepee would —
have been one of those to suffer but for the sight and fore- —
sight of the old Indian woman. .
ART
All students of the Indian art are satisfied that in this we
find the beginnings of something that may develop into a
great and original school of decoration. Not having
learned their traditions, conventions, and inner impulse, —
we believe that at present we shall do best by preserv-
f
*
é
th
Some Indian Ways 455
ing and closely copying the best of the truly native pro-
ductions. .
Therefore, in decorating teepees, etc., we use only literal
copies of the good Indian work.
’'
-
Dug Puma,
Zone Wolf Zune Deer B-Fth Rep Zuni Crizxly
INDIAN SEATS
Most boys are glad to learn of something they can make
to sell for money. So I shall give you some designs for
household furniture that every scout can make — they are
not mission, but quite as serviceable and much more of a
novelty: I mean real Indian furniture. Itis very safe to say
that everything you need in camp, from hair-combs to beds,
blankets, and signboards, was made by the Indian in a
more original way than any of us can expect to reach with-
out help.
Very few of the Plains Indians made furniture, as we
understand it, but those on the West Coast did. We may
follow many of their designs exactly.
One of the simplest and most useful things is the low
stool. Many of these are shown in CutsI and II. These
designs are closely copied after West Coast Indian work,
though originally used to decorate boxes.
A chief’s chair (e, f, g, h) is a fine thing to make for a
Lodge-room or for sale, but in camp we seldom see any-
thing so elaborate. Indeed, few fellows feel like doing
cabinet work when out under the trees. They are not
there for that purpose. In several cases we have made a
fine throne for the chief out of rough, field stone; i in
456 The Book of Woodcraft
NS Al PR
Pause i
rarneituiniotte
; = Hh }
Some Indian Ways 457
458 The Book of Woodcraft
Cut II is an example of this. The seat should be not
more than two feet from the ground, and even at that
height should have a footstool.
The stool J is of white man’s construction, but Indian
decoration, in red, black and white.
The log seat, or Council seat, K, is a useful thing that each
Band should make in the Council ring. It is simply a log
flattened on top, on the front side. It has a board back,
supported on two or three stakes, as shown in L. This is
designed for the “Otters.”
HEAD-BAND
Each brave needs a head-band. This holds his feathers
as they are won and his scalp if he wears one is fastened to it
behind. It consists of a strip of soft leather, long enough to
go around the head and overlap by two inches; it is fastened
at the rear, with a lace through the four holes, like the lace
of machine belting. A bead pattern ornaments the front
and it may be finished at each side in some broader design.
It is the foundation for the warbonnet and has places for
twenty-four feathers (two eagle tails). See Warbonnet
later.
Some Indian Ways 459
The feathers are made of white quill feathers, the tip dyed
dark brown or black; a leather loop is lashed to the quill end
of each to fasten it on to the head-band. Each feather
stands for an exploit and is awarded by the Council. An
oval of paper is glued on near the high end. This bears a
symbol of the feat it commemorates. If it was Grand
Coup or High Honor, the feather has a tuft of red horsehair
lashed on the top.
WARBONNET OR HEADDRESS — ITS MEANING
The typical Indian is always shown with a warbonnet, or
warcap, of eagle feathers. Every one is familiar with the
look of this headdress, but I find that few know its mean-
ing or why the Indian glories in it so.
In the days when the Redman was unchanged by
white men’s ways, every feather in the brave’s headdress
was awarded to him by the Grand Council for some great
deed, usually in warfare. Hence the expression, “‘a feather
in his cap.” These deeds are now called coups (pro-
nounced coo), and when of exceptional valor they were
grand coups, and the eagle’s feather had a tuft of horse-
hair, or down, fastened on its top. Not only was each
feather bestowed for some exploit, but there were also
ways of marking the feathers so as to show the kind
of deed.
Old plainsmen give an exciting picture in Indian life after
the return of a successful war party. All assemble in the
Grand Council lodge of the village. First the leader of the
party stands up, holding in his hands or having near him the
scalps or other trophies he has taken, and says in a loud
voice:
“Great Chief and Council of my Nation, I claim a grand
coup, because I went alone into the enemy’s camp and
460 The Book of Woodcraft
learned about their plans, and when I came away I met one
of them and killed him within his own camp.”
Then if all the witnesses grunt and say: ‘‘Hu!/” or “How!
How!’’ (‘‘So — it is so”’) the Council awards the warrior an
eagle feather with a red tuft and a large red spot on the web,
which tell why it was given.
The warrior goes on: ‘‘I claim grand coup because I
slapped the enemy’s face with my hand (thereby warning
him and increasing the risk) before I killed him with my
knife.”
A loud chorus of “‘How! How! How!” from the others
sustains him, and he is awarded another grand coup.
“‘T claim grand coup because I captured his horse while
two of his friends were watching.”
Here, perhaps, there are murmurs of dissent from the
witnesses; another man claims that he also had a hand in it.
There is a dispute and maybe both are awarded a coup, but
neither gets grand coup. The feathers are marked with a
horseshoe, but without a red tuft.
The killing of one enemy might (according to Mallery
4 Ann. Eth. p. 184) confer feathers on four different men
—the first, second, and third to strike him, and the one
who took his scalp.
After the chief each of the warriors comes forward in turn
and claims, and is awarded, his due honors to be worn ever
afterward on state occasions. All awards are made and
all disputes settled by the Council, and no man would dream
of being so foolish as to wear an honor that had not been
conferred by them, or in any way to dispute their ruling.
In the light of this we see new interest attach to the head-
dress of some famous warrior of the West when he is shown
with a circle of tufted feathers around his head, and then
added to that a tail of one hundred or more reaching to the
ground or trailing behind him. We know that, like the
Some Indian Ways 461
rows of medals on an old soldier’s breast, they are the record
of wonderful past achievements, that every one of them was
won perhaps at the risk of his life. What wonder is it that
travelers on the plains to-day tell us that the Indian values
his headdress above all things else. He would usually pre-
fer to part with his ponies and his teepee before he will give
up that array of eagle plumes, the only tangible record that
he has of whatever was heroic in his past.
PLENTY-COUPS
I remember vividly a scene I once witnessed years ago in
the West when my attention was strongly directed to the
significance of the warbonnet. I was living among a cer-
tain tribe of Indians and one day they were subjected to a
petty indignity by a well-meaning, ill-advised missionary.
Two regiments of United States Cavalry were camped near,
and so, being within the letter of the law, he also had power
to enforce it. But this occurrence was the last of a long
series of foolish small attacks
on their harmless customs,
and it roused the Indians, es-
pecially the younger ones, to
the point of rebellion.
A Grand Council was called.
A warrior got up and made a
strong, logical appeal to their
manhood —a tremendously stir-
ring speech. He worked them
all up and they were ready to
go on the warpath, with him to
lead them. I felt that my scalp
was in serious danger, for an
outburst seemed at hand.
462 The Book of Woodcraft
But now there arose a big, square-jawed man, who had
smoked in silence. He made a very short speech. It was
full of plain, good sense. He told them what he knew about —
the United States Army — how superior it was to all the
Indian tribes put together, how hopeless it was to fight it —_
and urged them to give up the foolish notion of the war-
path. His speech would not compare with that of the
other. He had neither the fire nor the words — he had not
even the popular sympathy, and yet he quelled the dis-—
turbance in his few sentences, and as I looked there dawned i
on me the reason for his power. While the gifted orator of ©
the big words had in his hair a single untufted eagle feather, —
the other, the man with the square jaw, had eagle feathers —
all around his head and trailing down his back and two feet _
SS
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ike
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DETAILS OF THE WARBONNET
The plain white Goose or Turkey feather.
The same, with tip dyed black.
The same, showing ruff of white down lashed on with wax end.
The same, showing leather loop lashed on for the holding lace.
The same, viewed edge on. ;
The same, with a red flannel cover sewn and lashed on the quill. This is a “‘coup feather.”
The same, with a tuft of red horsehair lashed on the top to mark a ‘‘grand coup” and
(a) a thread through the middle of the rib to hold the feather in proper place. This
feather is marked with the symbol of a grand coup in target shocting.
TORE ODM
Io.
Some Indian Ways 463
e oe eof
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ee tip of a feather showing how the red horsehair tuft is lashed on with fine waxed
thread.
The groundwork of the warbonnet made of any soft leather, (a) a broad band, to go round
the head laced at the joint or seam behind; (6) a broad tail behind as long as needed to
hold all the wearer’s feathers; (c) two leather thongs or straps over the top; (d) leather
string to tie under the chin; (e) the buttons, conchas or side ornaments of shells, silver,
horn, or wooden disks, even small mirrors and circles of beadwork were used, and some-
times the conchas were left out altogether; they may have the owner’s totem on them,
usually a bunch of ermine tails hung from each side of the bonnet just below the concha.
A bunch of horsehair will answer as well; (hk) the holes in the leather for holding
the lace of the feather; 24 feathers are needed for the full bonnet, without the tail,
so they are put less than an inch apart; (ii) the lacing holes on the tail; this is as long
. as the wearer’s feathers call for; some never have any tail.
pide view of the leather framework, showing a pattern sometimes used to decorate the
ront.
Iz, 12 and 13. Beadwork designs for front band of bonnet; all have white grounds.
14.
15.
No. 11 (Arapaho) has green band at top and bottom with red zigzag. No. 12 (Ogallala)
has blue band at top and bottom, red triangle; the concha is blue with three white
bars and is cut off from the band by ared bar. No. 13 (Sioux) has narrow band above
and broad band below blue, the triangle red, and the two little stars blue with yel-
low centre.
The bases of three feathers, showing how the lace comes out of the cap leather, through
the eye or loop on the bottom of the quill and in again.
The completed bonnet, showing how the feathers of the crown should spread out, also
showing the thread that passes through the middle of each feather on inner side to hold
it in place; another thread passes from the point where the two straps (c in 9) join
then down through each feather in the tail.
464. The Book of Woodcraft
on the ground behind him, and every one of them witha ~
bright red tuft of horsehair at its top, and I knew then that |
I was listening to the voice of Plenty-Coups, the most |
famous chief on the Upper Missouri, and I realized how a
few words from the man of deeds will go further than all the
stirring speeches of one who has no record of prowess to —
back up his threats and fiery denunciations.
MAKING THE WARBONNET
Most modern warbonnets take the crown of a felt hat as |
a basis, but the ancient way was to use a broad buckskin |
band, as shown in the illustration.
SEY
Cs
iz
ES
7 SY RE NY
=
et
SS
G.
Tail feathers of the war eagle were considered essential —
at one time, but many others are now used. I should be ©
sorry to increase a demand which would stimulate pursuit of
a noble bird already threatened with extinction. :
Most of the big feather dealers have what are known as —
“white quills.” These are wing feathers of swans and are ~
Some Indian Ways (465
sold at about 25 cents a dozen. ‘These, when the tips are
dyed brown, make a good substitute for eagle feathers.
They are still more like if a little down from a white hen
be lashed on.
The process of lashing a teather loop on the quill with a
waxed thread, and of fastening a red tuft of horsehair on
the top for the grand coup are sufficiently shown in the
_ above illustration.
INDIAN COSTUME
War shirt. Next to the Indian warbonnet, the war shirt
or coat is the most effective part of the costume. This
may be made out of leather, khaki, woolen stuff, or even
muslin. The finest ones used to be made of tanned deer
skin, but those are very expensive. Buff-tanned calf or
sheep skins, such as may be got at any leather shop, are
quite as good for our purpose. It takes two or even three
skins to make a war shirt. Sheep costs about 60 or 70
cents a skin, and calf at least double or even three times
that, so that a good strong khaki at one third the price of
sheep is likely to be more popular.
The pattern for making the war shirt is much like that of
a common cotton shirt, except that it has no tucks. It fits
a little more closely to the body while the sleeves are loose
and without wristbands. In sewing it is usual to put into
each sleeve at the back of the arm a long piece of leather
three or four inches wide, and this is cut into fringe after-
ward. The bottom of the coat also is decorated with fringe.
The oldest style of war shirt was closed at the throat with
tie strings, but some of the Indians used buttons after they
saw how convenient they were.
The decorations are the most Indian part of it. Two
kinds are in good usage: one, embroidery of quills or beads;
466 The Book of Woodcraft
the other, painted figures. Fine effects can be secured in
either way. q
The first illustration shows a war shirt of the beaded
style. These strips of beadwork are prepared on one of the
beadlooms and sewn on afterward. ‘The second is a quill- |
work device.
This is, of course, a mere suggestion. One may vary
it in any way, though it will be found best always to use but
|
:
i
Beaded war shirt, etc.
"4
few colors in the beads. In unskilled hands a bead pattern ;
of two colors is better than one of four colors. :
Bands of beadwork may be added on the outside of each —
arm in front of the fringes, as well as around the outer half —
of each cuff at the bottom, or they may be omitted alto- —
gether and the decorations done with paint. The Indians —
used native paints and dyes ground up in a mixture of rosin ©
4
Some Indian Ways 467
| and grease. Black was made of soot taken from the
bottom of a pot. Red, yellow, and white were made of clay
('
AU
(
(Abate [cage
Mi (ui
Quill worked war shirt
roasted and powdered. But common painters’ oil colors
will do very well if thinned out with turpentine.
Cotton costumes are used very often on the stage
in Indian scenes; and when the ghost dance was danced in
468 The Book of Woodcraft
Moccasin, made of arbber-soled shoe orsnear,
embroidery of silk , red. white, blue \ Yellow,
Arouncl The ankle afringe of leather .
occasin 4
OJ dwa . ered front,
a pe
Making a Moccasin
Some Indian Ways 469
Dakota by the Sioux, under Sitting Bull and Short Bull,
nearly every one of the dancers appeared in a war shirt of
painted cotton, made in some cases of old cotton flour sack.
Magnificent examples of war shirts are now to be seen in
most museums. Many also are pictured in the Reports of
the Bureau of Ethnology at Washington.
Leggings. The leggings are best made as ordinary
trousers, embellished with fringe and beadwork on the sides.
Moccasins are a staple article of trade; but I have found
nothing better or more serviceable than a pair of ordinary
rubber-soled sneaks, decorated with a few beads or a fringe.
War Clubs. The only use we have for these is in the
dancing or the ceremonies. They are most easily made of
wood, and should be about twenty inches long. Painted with
ordinary oil colors and embellished with tufts of horsehair
or feathers, they are very picturesque as well as easily made.
Paddles. The best designs I ever saw for painting pad-
dles are those of the West Coast Indians. These are shown
in three colors, black, white, and red — the red being the
portions cross-lined.
Drum. While an ordinary bought
drum does very well for dancing, some
tribes make their own, using a section of
a hollow tree (or in some cases a small
barrel) covered with untanned calf skin.
It is soaked till soft, scraped clear of
hair, and tightly stretched over each end
of the hollow log. As it dries, it shrinks
and becomes very tense, giving a good SS
drum sound. Usually it is tuned up by th Ingan Dim-
warming at the fire before use.
Peace Pipe. The favorite peace pipe was of the red
pipe stone, but I have seen many made of wood. The two
shown are in my own collection.
470 The Book of Woodcraft
ale
Prreerititt tit > Bb CUCU MB LUCE ESE etecues
, ad
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Wooden hihe spotled areas green else black with red yellow incised Lines,
33 inches long
|
Some Indian Ways 471
THE INDIAN OR WILLOW BED
The only bed I know of which is light, portable, scout-
like, made of wildwood stuff that can be got anywhere,
and costing nothing but a little labor, is the willow or prairie
bed used by all the Plains Indians.
This is how it is made: On your first short hike to the
country go to some stream bank or swamp, and cut about
seventy straight rods of red willow (kinnikinik), gray willow,
arrow-wood, or any straight shoots, each about as thick as a
pencil, when peeled, except one or two that are larger,
up to half an inch thick; and all thirty inches long. Tie
them up in a tight bundle with several cords until you get
time to work them. Peel them, cut a slight notch in the
butt of each rod, three quarters of an inch from the end,
and you are ready to make the bed.
And here I may say that some fellows, who could not get
to the country to cut willow rods, have used the ordinary
bamboo fishing-poles. These are sawed up in 30-inch
lengths and split to the necessary thinness; the butt end
yields four or even five of the splints, the top, but one.
_ This answers well, and three poles furnish material enough
for the bed. This is allowable because, though the stuff is
not of our own woods, it is American; it grows in the
Southern States. One or two fellows in town have made
the bed of dowels from a furniture factory.
Now get a ball of cord, that will stand a 25-lb. pull,
a ball of fine linen thread, and a piece of shoemakers’ wax,
to complete your materials.
If outdoors, you can stretch your cords, between two
small trees about seven feet apart, but it is much easier if
you make a rough frame of strips or poles sevén feet by
three inside to work on.
Cut four pieces of the cord, each about twenty feet long.
472 The Book of Woodcraft
‘Double each and tie a 3-inch hard loop in the middle.
Twist these doubled cords and put them on a frame (Cut
No. 1), fastened to nails as at A B, the surplus cord wrapped
(Pe CEs re CHE HET eee
The reuph frame used fn making the bed.
one rod ss in place ,
CUT NO. I.
Take one of the heaviest rods, say a half-inch one, for a
starter. With a pointed stick, open the two strands of the
twisted cord, and set the rod tight against the knots I J K L.
Now set a second rod in place below the first, seeing that
two twists of the string are between each road and that the
space separating them is one inch. Keep alternating butts
and tops. At each point, that is at four places on each rod,
make a lashing of waxed thread, holding rod and cords
together (No. 2). I have seen beds with only two lashings,
that is, one at each end, but four lashings is the sound and
safe plan. 3
iy Ral Ke
anes St ie
NOR. The style of finish. Alt
Should be lashed dike a¥b.
When the rod-work is six feet long, it is time to taper off.
Put in one big rod for a finish, and tie hard loops in the
Some Indian Ways 473
cords at this point. Then, using shorter rods, make a
narrower part about eighteen inches high for a head.
Finally, cover this head with a piece of brown khaki or
canvas which should be decorated with the band’s colors
and totem, either painted or done in beadwork, or in colored
cottons that are cut out and sewed on (Cuts Nos. 3 and 4).
| STAT |
AETV ELT EET
THTAAAHAAAT TU
Ne.% Willow bed . With Black Wolf totem
It is well to add also a wooden hook for one’s watch (a and
b, Cut No. 3) and a pocket for matches and money, etc., at
night.
The Indians often elaborated these beds to a great extent
when in permanent camps. Each rod was selected, per-
fectly straight, thinned at the butt end, to be uniform, and
an extra piece added at the bed, head and foot, to curl up
as end-boards. That at the head was elaborately devo-
474 The Book of Woodcraft
rated with symbols in beadwork. The illustration (No. 5)
shows a beautiful beaded bed-head in my possession; not
only the head, but the edges all around, are bound with red
flannel.
When in use the bed is laid with the ends of the rods
. 4 if ,
TALATA dite 7
7 eae
\? ae SIE ae ‘
Nos The ippaeient head,
resting on two 4-inch poles, which are set firmly twenty-
six inches apart; and the bed is staked at the corners
through the loops to hold it in place (Cut No. 6). Cut
No. 7 shows a fine specimen of an Arapaho bed all ready for
use. When we can get no poles, we lay down a couple of
boards or rods to carry the ends of the bed, and then dig the
;
‘
:
;
Some Indian Ways 475
ground out in the middle. By means of two tall stakes
the head part is held upright. When packed up the bed is
rolled. It weighs about five pounds.
Of course, you always need as much under you as over you.
Couched on such a natural spring mattress as the willow
bed you sleep in perfect comfort.
No.6,
a, X |
LUT AW, :
SEAS GULL ALDER ODL IOD AR DRS.
SA / \
BON Ce ete
A (ce [ aqu Saqquuny ue Cr if \
ee fu dl me qt} avs Ay om
= I en
id
No. 7. ARAPAHO BED OF WILLOWS. 14th ANN.
Rep. Bur. Am. Ethn. P. 963
For those who wish to complete its sumptuousness a rush
or grass mat may be added. (See Camp Loom.)
After long use the willows get bent, to prevent this
the bed should be turned over every few days.
INDIAN PAINTS
Paints for the body are mixed with grease or tallow from
some animal.
476 The Book of Woodcraft
Paints for ornamenting robes are mixed with water.
(Clark: ‘‘Sign Language.’’)
Paints for lodges, totem poles, etc., were made durable
by slowly melting or mixing into the grease enough rosin to
make it sticky. ‘This formed their paint oil.
Red. Before they had the white man’s vermilion they
used a certain stiff yellow clay (brick clay) which, when
burnt, turned dull red—i. e., brick color. This they pow-
dered and mixed with the grease oil.
In some parts of the country there are springs strongly
impregnated withiron. A log of wood dug out of this — or
failing that an armful of chips long soaked in it — when
taken out, dried and burnt yielded ashes of a beautiful
rosy color. These worked up into a very pretty red.
Yellow. Yellow clay or ochres are common in clay
regions and furnish a dull yellow. Clark says that the —
flower of the prairie, goldenrod, yields a good yellow: also
the bright yellow moss one sees on the trunks of pine trees
in the Rockies. When dried and powdered this makes a
sort of chrome yellow, and is also used as a dye.
“The Sioux use bull-berries” for yellow. (Clark.)
Blue. They had no good blue. Blue clays come near-
est to the color. Sometimes black and white mixed were
used.
Black. Soot and charcoal, ground into the paint oil,
made a good black.
White. For white they used white clays, which are com-
mon in some regions, or burnt shells, finely powdered.
“Generally speaking, Black means joy: White, mourn-
ing: Red, beauty: and an excessive use of any of these or
other colors, excitement.”
‘When painting for war, they use many stripes and rings
of different colors, but on returning only black-colored
paint is used."
ee ee eee ee es ee
Some Indian Ways 477
“After killing an enemy, the lower part of the face might
be painted black.”’ (Clark.)
Painting was universal among Indians. They did it to
beautify themselves and also to protect the skins from the
weather. Though we condemn them for the practice,
most of our women and a great many of our men do the
same thing for the same reason.
%,
Bei SS a
Z za OWN
‘Zuni eagles 23 Am. Rep. B. A. E.
INDIAN DYES
The dyes used to stain porcupine quills, spruce roots, and
other strong material, of which they made ornaments and
utensils, were very numerous, and some of them very
beautiful.
Red. Soak the roots in the juice of the Squaw-berry —
Blitum or Mis-caw-wa. Many other berries give red or
purple.
Black. Boil the roots, etc., with the bark, branches, and
berries of sumac, or the bark and chips of oak and soft
maple, with some iron in the pot.
Yellow. A beautiful yellow is made by boiling the inner
bark of golden or black oak. Or the root of yellowroot or
hydrastis. In the Rocky Mountains the yellow moss
off pine trees serves.
478 The Book of Woodcraft
Orange. By boiling with the inner bark of alder or
sassafras.
Scarlet. Dye yellow first then dip in red.
Most berries and barks yield a dye, and experiments with.
them often result in delightful discoveries.
NAMING THE CAMP—OR KEEPING THE WINTER-COUNT
When the return of the Grass-moon told the Indians that —
the New Year had come and that the old year had gone, the
council debated the question: By what name shall we re-
member this last year? All names suggested by events
were brought in. Smallpox Year, White-buffalo Year,
Many-scalps Year, and soon. When a decision was reached
the Keeper of the Winter-count made a pictograph in proper
place on the Painted Robe, and so this record was kept.
In our tribes we select the name by which each Camp- —
out is likely to be remembered, and enter that in the Tally
Book. .
Thus we have: Camp-nothing-but-rain, Camp-bully-
fun, Camp-robin’s-nest-on-the-teepee, etc. }
\
ARCHERY
The tribe should own a Standard Target — that is, 4 feet —
across, circular, made of straw, with a thin oilcloth cover,
marked with a 9.6 inch centre of gold (called by some of our
tribes ‘“‘The Buffalo’s Eye’); outside of that a 4.8-inch
band of red, next a similar band of blue, next of black, next
of white. Sometimes black rings of the right size are
made to answer.
In scoring, the gold is 9, the red 7, the blue 5, the
black 3, the whiter. The shortest match range for the —
targetis go yards. Ifitisa 3-foot target the match rangeis
reduced to 30 yards. |
Some Indian Ways 479
A target can be made of a burlap sack about five feet
square. This should be stuffed full of hay or straw, then
flattened by a few quilting stitches put right through with a
long packing needle. On this the target is painted of exact
right size.
Each brave should have a bow that pulls from 10 pounds
up; about one pound for each year of his age is a safe guide
for boys up to sixteen. He should have at least 6 arrows
and a quiver. The arrows 25 inches long, with 3 feathers,
cone-points of steel or iron; brass points are useless. A
guard or bracer for the left wrist is needed, and most boys
require a glove to protect the fingers of the right hand.
Bows can be bought for $1 to $5 and arrows from 15
cents to $3 each. But it is more creditable if you make
them yourself.
HOW TO MAKE A BOW
Take a straight, sound piece of cedar, bodark, yew,
sassafras, mulberry, apple tree, black locust, ironwood, ash,
elm, hickory, or hemlock. Cut it so that it is half sap and
half heartwood, flat on the sapwood side (or front) and
round on the heartwood side (or back). It should be about
an inch thick in the middle and tapered off to 2 inch at each
end. Cut two notches and put on a strong linen cord,
either a bought bow-string or one made of many twisted
linen threads. At one end it is fast to the bow by a timber
hitch, at the other by a hard loop.
When strung the string should be about 5 inches from
the bow.
Arrows should be 25 inches long, and 2 of an inch thick.
They are made of pine or ash. The Eastern Indians made
them usually of arrow-wood or viburnum shoots.
Each should have a conical steel ferrule for head and three
feathers to make it fly true. The feathers are lashed on.
480 The Book of Woodcraft
ARCHERY
a. The bow strung. b. The cord fast at the lower end. c. The cord
with loop at upper end. d. Feather ready to tie on. e. Feathers lashed
on. f. Holding.
SO rm rir
;
¢c
x
SIX SAMPLE ARROWS, SHOWING DIFFERENT FEATHERS.
A is a far-flying steel-pointed bobtail, very good in wind. B is another very good ar-
row, with a horn point. This went even better than A if there were no wind. C is an
Omaha war and deer arrow. Both heads and feathers are lashed on withsinew. The lo
tufts of down left on the feathers are to help in finding it again, as they are snow-white an
wave in the breeze. Th2 grooves on the shaft are to make the victim bleed more freely and
be more easily tracked. D is another Omaha arrow with a peculiar owner’s mark of rings
carved in the middle. ZE is a bone-headed bird shaft made by the Indians of the Macken-
zie River. F is a war arrow made by Geronimo, the famous Apache chief. Its shaft is
three joints of a straight cane. The tip is of hard wood, and on that is a fine quartz point;
all being lashed together with sinew.
Some Indian Ways 481
HOLDING AND DRAWING
It is very important to begin shooting in correct form and
never change from that if you wish to become a good shot.
Grasp the bow in the left hand. Put the arrow on the
string with the right. Hook the first three fingers on the
string one above, two below the arrow. The little finger
and thumb do nothing. (fin upper cut, p. 480).
Stand perfectly upright, left side toward the target, the
heels 12 inches apart and in exact line from the target.
Hold the bow upright and the arrow against the left side of
it, resting on the hand. Draw the cord till the head of the
arrow touches the bow and the top of your thumb rests on
the corner of your mouth. You must sight along the arrow
for direction, but guess for elevation. Hold it one second.
Release the arrow by straightening your fingers and at
the same time turn your hand back up, but keep the thumb
tip at your mouth corner. Do not move the left hand a
hair’s-breadth till the arrow has struck.
Begin practising at very short range and slowly increase
up to the standard, forty yards.
Unstring the bow when not in use.
THE WARBOW OF THE PENOBSCOTS
This warbow (Tong-bi) is as shown to me by Big Thun-
der, the Penobscot Chief, at Boston Sportsman’s Show,
December 12, 1900. He was then seventy-seven years of
age, perfectly straight, and six feet four inches in height.
He said that the bow had been in his tribe for over two
hundred years; fifty-five years ago it was put in his charge
by his uncle, the late Chief John Nepta.
It is made of ‘“‘hornbeam” in two pieces, loosely joined,
with an auxiliary piece in front (AA), to which are attached
482 The Book of Woodcraft
two long thongs of caribou rawhide. This extra piece is
bound to the arms of the main bow by a somewhat loose —
rawhide wrapping.
The string is three strips of rawhide, two of them loosely
twisted together, the third tightly wrapped around both.
5)
eu
Dee
pty woogie cas ARNE LIC Rae ee Ae, SA EAS
| a
MMi,"
ate Oe
eD aU rf
a
> f
Penobscot warbow. Omaha bow, bowcase and quiver. (
The bow is 5 feet 63 inches long, and pulls not more than
25 pounds, perhaps only 20. It seemed to me a very slow
bow.
Yet the Chief told me it had killed many men and ani- _
mals. He had recently shot a two-year-old moose with it.
et > eg ie ee!
Some Indian Ways 483
The moose, he said, always lies down on a wound to get
it next the earth, but thereby drives the arrow home.
Caribou rawhide, he claims, gets tighter when wet;
and hornbeam practically
never decays or loses its
power with age.
The arrow he showed
me was without feathers
and had a stone head.
The notch was very slight,
showing that the pinch
grip was necessary. It
Drawn from life,
By Thunder’s arrow grip
14 Dec., 1900, Boston.
was 32 inches long, but the This manner he said was
general among his people
Penobscots made them up formerly, but of late they
use the new (secondary) style.
to 34 and 36 inches, usu-
ally with feathers. The grip by which he pulled was the
Mongolian, as in the sketch.
That, he said, used to be the only one in use among his
tribe, but recently they had used the grip known as the
Secondary.
SCALPS
In some tribes each brave wears a long tuft of black horse-
hair that answers as his scalp. The skin of this should be
about one and a half inches across; it is furnished with a
cord loop; the hair is as long as possible. This scalp is
presented to the brave on entering the tribe. After he has
promised obedience and allegiance and signed the roll the
medicine man gives it to him, saying:
“This is your scalp. Treasure this as your honor. You
may lose it without absolute disgrace, but not without some
humiliation.”
He can lose it only in an important competition, approved
by the council, in which he stakes his scalp against that of
484° The Book of Woodcraft
some other brave. If he loses, he surrenders his tuft to the
winner and goes tuftless — that is, he is dead until the coun-
cil thinks proper to revive him by giving him a new scalp ©
But he never gets back the old one, which remains the ~
property of the winner for a teepee or other decoration.
A dead brave cannot vote or sit in council or take part —
in the competitions. ’
INDIAN WORK
For all kinds of genuine Indian work, to order if need _
be, send to Mohank Lodge, Colony, Oklahoma.
XVII. Campfire Stories or Glimpses
of Indian Character
The Teachings of Winnemucca
Chief of the Piutes
About 1800
WwW NEMUCCA was one of the famous old Chiefs
who stood for valor, goodness, and courtesy;
and was in himself a noble example of all his
own doctrines.
Gen. O. O. Howard, who knew his people well, has
recorded the teachings of Winnemucca. He ceaselessly
_ exhorted his people:
“To love peace and make constant effort to keep it;
always to be kind, one to another; always to tell the
truth; and never to take for one’s self what belonged to
another; to treat old people with tender regard; to care
for and help the helpless; to be affectionate in families,
and show real respect to women, particularly to mothers.”
(‘Famous Indian Chiefs I Have Known,” p. 208-9, O. O.
Howard, U.S. A., Century Co., N. Y. 1908.)
THE TEACHINGS OF WABASHA I.
In the day of his strength no man is fat. Fat is good ina
beast, but in a man it is disease and comes only of an evil life.
No man will eat three times each sun if he would keep
his body strong and his mind unclouded.
485
486 The Book of Woodcraft
Bathe every sun in cold water and one sun in seven enter
the sweat lodge.
If you would purify your heart and so see clearer the
way of the Great Spirit, touch no food for two days or more,
according to your strength. For thereby your spirit hath
mastery over the body and the body is purged.
Touch not the poisonous firewater that makes wise
men turn fools. Neither touch food nor taste drink that
robs the body of its power or the spirit.
Guard your tongue in youth, and in age you may
mature a thought that will be of service to your people.
Praise God when you rise, when you bathe, when you
eat, when you meet your friends and for all good happen-
ings. And if so be you see no cause for praise the fault is
in yourself.
A proven Minisino is at all times clean, courteous and
master of himself.
The wise man will not hurt his mind for the passing
pleasure of the body.
If any man be given over to sex appetite he is harboring
a rattlesnake, whose sting is rottenness and sure death.
By prayer and fasting and fixed purpose you can rule
your own spirit, and so have power over all those about you.
When your time comes to die, sing your death song and
die pleasantly, not like the white men whose hearts are
ever filled with the fear of death, so when their time comes,
they weep and wail and pray for a little more time so they
may live their lives over again in a different manner.
THE LESSONS OF LONE-CHIEF, SKUR-AR-ALE-SHAR,
GIVEN HIM BY HIS WIDOWED MOTHER
When you get to be a man remember that it is ambition that
makes the man.
F
:
b,
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 487
If you go on the warpath do not turn around when you have
gone part way, but go on as far as you were going; then come
back.
If I should live to see you become a man I want you to be-
come a great man. I want you to think about the hard times
we have been through.
Take pity on people who are poor, because we have been poor,
and people have taken pity on us.
If I live to see you a man, and to go off on the warpath, I
would not cry if I were to hear that you had been killed in
battle. That is what makes a man, to fight and to be brave.
Love your friend and never desert him. If you see him sur-
rounded by the enemy do not run away; go to him, and if you
cannot save him, be killed together, and let your bones lie side
by side. — (“Pawnee Hero Stories,” by G. B. Grinnell, pp.
46-47.)
THE TEACHINGS OF TSHUT-CHE-NAU
CHIEF OF THE KANSAS, ABOUT 1800
On the lowest plane of all the great Indian teachers,
perhaps, was Tshut-che-nau, Chief of the Kansas Indians.
In 1800 he was a very old man, so probably his epoch was
1750 to 1800.
This Hammurabi of his people used to lecture the young
Indians — as part of their training —and J. D. Hunter,
the white boy, who was adopted into the tribe and sat at
the old man’s feet, has thus recorded principles there laid
down:
When you become men be brave and cunning in war, and
defend your hunting grounds against all encroachments.
Never suffer your squaws or little ones to want.
Protect the squaws and strangers from insult.
On no account betray your friend.
Resent insults.
Revenge yourself on your enemies.
Drink not the poisonous strong water of the white people; it
is sent by the Bad Spirit to destroy the Indians.
Fear not death; none but cowards fear to die.
488 The Book of Woodcraft
Obey and venerate the old people, particularly your parents.
Fear and propitiate the Bad Spirit, that he may do you no
harm.
Love and adore the Good Spirit, who made us all, who sup-
plies our hunting grounds, and keeps us alive. — (“ Captivity
Among the Indians,” 1798-1816; John D. Hunter, p. 21.)
COURAGE OR THE TRAINED SCOUT
“With the Indian courage is absolute self-control. The
truly brave man, we contend, yields neither to fear nor
anger, desire nor agony. He is at all times master of
himself. His courage rises to the heights of chivalry,
patriotism, and real heroism.
“¢Tet neither cold, hunger, nor pain, nor the fear of them,
neither the bristling teeth of danger nor the very jaws of death
itself, prevent you from doing a good deed,’ said an old chief
to a Scout who was about to seek the buffalo in midwinter for
the relief of a starving people.”’ (‘‘Soul of the Indian,” p. 115;
by Ohiyesa.)
AN INDIAN PRAYER
(Supplied by Miss Natalie Curtis)
O Powers that be, make me sufficient to my own occasions.
Give to me to mind my own business at all times and to
lose no good opportunity for holding my tongue.
When it is appointed for me to suffer let me take example
from the dear well-bred beasts and go away in solitude to
bear my suffering by myself.
Help me to win, if win I may, but — and this especially,
. O Powers — if I may not win, make me a good loser.
GENESIS (OMAHA)
From the ritual of the Omaha Pebble Society
(Fletcher — LaFlesche, Eth. Ann. 27; p. 570)
“At the beginning all things were in the mind of Wa-
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 489
konda. All creatures, including man, were spirits. They
moved about in space between the earth and the stars
(the heavens). They were seeking a place where they
could come into a bodily existence. They ascended to
the sun, but the sun was not fitted for their abode They
moved on to the moon and found that it also was not good
for their home. ‘Then they descended to the earth. They
saw it was covered with water. They floated through the
air to the north, the east, the south, and the west, and
found no dry land. They were sorely grieved. Suddenly
from the midst of the water uprose a great rock. It burst
into flames and the waters floated into the air in clouds.
Dry land appeared; the grasses and the trees grew. The
hosts of spirits descended and became flesh and blood.
They fed on the seeds of the grasses and the fruits of the
trees, and the land vibrated with their expressions of joy
and gratitude to Wakonda, the maker of all things.”
THE QUICHE’S MYTH OF CREATION
This is the first word and the first speech: There were
neither men nor brutes, neither birds, fish nor crabs, stick nor
stone, valley nor mountain, stubble nor forest, nothing but the
sky.
The face of the land was hidden; there was naught but the
silent sea and the sky.
There was nothing joined, nor any sound, nor thing that
stirred; neither any to do evil, nor to rumble in the heavens,
nor a walker on foot; only the silent waters, only the pacified
ocean, only it in its calm.
Nothing was, but stillness and rest and darkness and the night.
Nothing but the Maker and Moulder, the Hurler, the Bird
Serpent.
In the waters, in a limpid twilight, covered with green feathers,
slept the mothers and the fathers.
And over all passed Hurakan, the night-wind, the black
rushing Raven, and cried with rumbling croak, ‘Earth!
490 The Book of Woodcraft
Earth!’ and straightway the solid land was there. — (From —
Ximenes.)
CLEAN FATHERHOOD ;
“This is the sum of everything that is noble and honor- j
able — Clean Fatherhood,” the words of Chief Capilano ©
of the Squamish. (Pauline Johnson’s “Legends of Van- |
couver,”’ 1912, p Io.) 7
OMAHA PROVERBS
“Stolen food never satisfies hunger.”
‘“A poor man is a hard rider.”
‘All persons dislike a borrower.”
““No one mourns the thriftless.”
“The path of the lazy leads to disgrace.”
‘‘A man must make his own arrows.”
‘“‘A handsome face does not make a good husband.”
(Fletcher — La Flesche, Eth. Ann. 27 p. 604)
THE MEDICINE MAN AND HIS WAYS
During the later Indian days the army surgeons came ~
into close contact and rivalry with the Indian, and to the ~
amazement of all whites, it frequently happened that the —
Indian doctor undertook and cured cases which the white _
doctors had pronounced hopeless. These were of all kinds,
broken limbs, rheumatism, consumption, and obscure
maladies (see ‘‘Medicine Man” in Clark’s “Indian Sign
Language’’).
This led to an investigation and a report on the ways
of the medicine man. These were shown to be their chief
peculiar methods:
1st: They took the patient home, giving him camp life
with the daily sun-bath, and with pure air night and day.
Fa agg EIS Ba aa Nal gah tae
ide
Ss a - oy aS!
=<
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 491
2d: They gave him a periodic Turkish bath with pur-
gatives.
3d: They gave him regular massage.
4th: They worked on his faith; they sang to him; they
convinced him that great things were doing on his behalf.
They did all in their power to set his mind at ease.
Besides which they had some knowledge of curative
herbs and of dieting.
Allof these have now a place among our own medical
methods, yet we scoffed at them when offered to us by the
Indians. They had to reach us from the East before we
found them acceptable. .
Of course there was a measure of quackery and, fraud
in many of the medicine men, but it is just possible that
medical humbug was not entirely confined to the doctors
of the Red Race.
THE INDIAN SILENCE
The first American mingled with his pride a singular humility.
Spiritual arrogance was foreign to his nature and teaching. He
never claimed that the power of articulate speech was proof of
superiority over the dumb creation; on the other hand, it is to
him a perilous gift. He believes profoundly in silence — the
sign of a perfect equilibrium. Silence is the absolute poise or
balance of body, mind, and spirit. The man who preserves his
selfhood, ever calm and unshaken by the storms of existence —
not a leaf, as it were, astir on the tree; not a ripple upon the
_ surface of shining pool — his, in the mind of the unlettered
sage, is the ideal attitude and conduct of life.
If you ask him, ‘‘ What is silence?” he will answer, ‘It is the
Great Mystery! The holy silence is His voice!”’ If you ask,
“What are the fruits of silence?” he will say, “They are self-
control, true courage or endurance, patience, dignity, and
reverence. Silence is the cornerstone of character.”
“Guard your tongue in youth,” said the old Chief Wabasha,
“and in age you may mature a thought that will be of service
to your people!’’ — (“‘ The Soul of the Indian,” by Ohiyesa, pp.
89-90.)
492 The Book of Woodcraft
THE INDIAN BABES IN THE WOODS
(By permission of Messers. Fleming H. Revell Company, N. Y.)
The charming story ‘‘Two Wilderness Voyagers,” by
F. W. Calkins, gives a true picture of the ways and powers
of Indian children. Two little Sioux, a boy and a girl,
Etapa and Zintkala, were stolen from their people and
carried off into the land of the Ojibwa. They escaped
and, though but eleven or twelve years old, wandered alone
in the woods for months and eventually reached their own
people on the plains.
Their ways and the thoughts of their kind toward the
wonders of nature are admirably illustrated in the scene
before Grandfather Rock:
In one of these short excursions the boy came upon a vener-
able gray boulder which stood as high as the surrounding trees
and was many steps in circumference at its base. Except where
the moose had eaten them off, this towering rock was thickly
grown with lichens which gave it a hoary appearance of great
age.
Etapa stood for some minutes, his eyes cast upward, venerat-
ing this aged and eternally enduring one which knows not time,
seasons, nor change. Then the boy went softly back to Zint-
kala. “Come,” he said, ‘‘I have found Grandfather Inyan —
the very aged one. Let us smoke and pray to him!”
So they went together softly among the sand hillocks, until
they confronted Grandfather Inyan. While Etapa prepared his
pipe and willow bark for smoking, Zintkala stood — as a small
devotee before a shrine — looking devoutly up at the everlast-
ing one, the vast sentinel and guide, set so mysteriously among
the trees. ;
“Tt is taku-wakan”’ (something wonderful), she said. While
Etapa smoked, offering incense to the rock, sky and trees, she
prayed thus:
“Behold us small ones, O Grandfather Inyan. You are
doubtless very old and wise, therefore you, O Grandfather
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 493
Inyan, and ye trees, assist us greatly that we may find our way
homeward.
Fire is sacred to Inyan; therefore, under the shadow of the
great rock they built one of dry sticks and gathered a heap of
fagots to keep the blaze going until far into the night. Then
alternately they said, ‘‘We will make a feast and dance to
Grandfather Inyan, and so he shall help us.”
“After they had eaten they combed their hair, greasing it with
pieces of goose fat which Zintkala had saved, and then braided
and tied their tresses becomingly.
After a reasonable time, by the light of the fire they had built
to him, they gave a sacred dance to Grandfather Inyan and his
protecting pines. Upon a little plat of level ground, facing a
broad scrap of the rock, and embowered in dark-topped ever-
greens, these little brown children danced.
The girl, with close drawn-blanket, with rapt face and serious
air, performed her part in measured, dainty movements, danc-
ing with her toes turned inward.
The boy, with less grace, but no less reverent face, sprang
lightly from foot to foot, chanting low ejaculations of prayer.
Had the rock and the trees, sheltering their small circle of
light and their brown swaying figures, possessed the ears, hearts
and powers attributed to them, they must have moved even
their roots to respond to the appeals for pity which these lost
and revering waifs addressed to them.
When they had danced until they were weary they stretched
themselves, tightly rolled in their blankets, upon the sands, and
with renewed trust in the future, fell asleep.” — (Pp. 112-114.)
THE STORY OF NO-HEART
(By permission of the Author)
(From “My Life as an Indian,” by J. W. Schultz)
This story of No-Heart gives a realistic and kindly pic-
ture of life in an Indian village. The heroine, a young
girl nearing womanhood, had been caught with her family
in a terrible thunderstorm. When it was over all were
494 The Book of Woodcraft
dead but herself. In the village she had no other kins- _
folk; thus she was left alone in the world:
f
all. ‘You must go and live with some one,” said the chief.
““No one ever heard of a young woman living by herself. You
cannot live alone. Where would you procure your food? And —
think of what people would say, should you do so; you would —
soon have a bad name.”
“Tf people speak ill of me, I cannot help it,” said the girl.
“They will live to take back their bad words. I have decided
to do this, and I will find a way to keep from starving.”
So this girl lived on alone in the lodge her parents had built,
and with no company save her dogs. The women of the camp
frequently visited her and gave her meat and other food, but no
man, either young or old, ever went in and sat by her fire. One
or two had attempted it, but only once, for she had told them
plainly that she did not wish the society of any man. So the
youths gazed at her from afar, and prayed the gods to soften her
heart. She was a handsome young woman, a hard and cease-
less toiler; no wonder that the men fell in love with her, and no
wonder that they named her No-Heart.
One young man, Long Elk, son of the great chief, loved the
lone girl so much that he was nearly crazy with the pain and
longing for her. He had never spoken to her, well knowing
that her answer would be that which she had given to others.
But he could not help going about, day after day, where she
could always see him. If she worked in her little bean and corn
patch he sat on the edge of the river-bank nearby. If she went
to the timber for wood, he strolled out in that direction, often
meeting her on the trail, but she always passed him with eyes
cast down, asif she had not seen him. Often, in the night, when
all the camp was fast asleep, Long Elk would steal out of his
father’s lodge, pick up a water skin, and filling it again and
again at the river, would water every row in No-Heart’s garden.
At the risk of his life he would go out alone on the plains where
the Sioux were always prowling, and hunt. In the morning
when No-Heart awoke and went out, she would find hanging
in the dark entrance way, choice portions of meat, the skin of a
Kind friends buried the dead, and the many different ones i ‘
asked the girl to come and live with them; but she refused them ~
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 495
buffalo or the deer kind. The people talked about this, wonder-
ing who did it all. If the girl knew she gave no sign of it,
always passing the young man as if she did not know there was
such a person on earth. A few low and evil ones themselves
hinted wickedly that the unknown protector was well paid for
his troubles. But they were always rebuked, for the girl had
many friends who believed that she was all good.
In the third summer of the girl’s lone living, the Mandans
and Arickarees quarreled, and then trouble began, parties con-
stantly starting out to steal each other’s horses, and to kill and
scalp all whom they could find hunting or traveling about be-
yond protection of the villages. This was a very sad condition
for the people. The two tribes had long been friends; Mandan
men had married Arickaree women, and many Arickaree men
had Mandan wives. It was dreadful to see the scalps of per-
haps one’s own relatives brought into camp. But what could
the women do? They had no voice in the councils, and were
afraid to say what they thought. Not so No-Heart. Every
day she went about in the camp, talking loudly, so that the men
must hear, scolding them and their wickedness; pointing out
the truth, that by killing each other the two tribes would be-
come so weak that they would soon be unable to withstand their
common enemy, the Sioux. Yes, No-Heart would even walk
right up to a chief and scold him, and he would be obliged to
turn silently away, for he could not argue with a woman, nor
could he force this one to close her mouth; she was the ruler of
her own person.
One night a large number of Arickarees succeeded in making
an opening in the village stockade and, passing through, they
began to lead out the horses. Some one soon discovered them,
however, and gave the alarm, and a big fight took place, the
Mandans driving the enemy out on the plain and down into
the timber below. Some men on both sides were killed; there
was both mourning and rejoicing in the village.
The Arickarees retreated to their village. Toward evening
No-Heart went down into the timber for fuel, and in a thick
clump of willows she found one of the enemy, a young man
badly wounded. An arrow had pierced his groin, and the
loss of blood had been great. He was so weak that he could
scarcely speak or move. No-Heart stuck many willow twigs
in the ground about him, the more securely to conceal him.
496 The Book of Woodcraft
?
“Do not fear,” she said to him, “I will bring you food and
drink.”
She hurried back to her lodge and got some dried meat and a
skin of water, put them under her robe, and returned to the
wounded one. He drank much, and ate of the food. No-
Heart washed and bound the wound. Then she again left him,
telling him to lie quiet, that in the night she would return and
take him to her home, where she would care for him until he
got well. In her lodge she fixed a place for him, screening one
of the bed places with a large cow skin; she also partly covered
the smoke hole and hung a skin across the entrance, so that the
interior of the lodge had but little light. The women who
sometimes visited her would never suspect that any one was
concealed, and especially an enemy in a lodge where for three
summers no man had entered.
It was a very dark night. Down in the timber there was no
light at all. No-Heart was obliged to extend her arms as she
walked, to keep from running against the trees, but she knew
the place so well that she had little trouble in finding the thicket,
and the one she had come to aid. ‘‘Arise,”’ she said in a low
voice. ‘Arise, and follow me.”
The young man attempted to get up, but fell back heavily
upon the ground. ‘I cannot stand.” he said; ‘“‘my legs have
no strength.”
Then No-Heart cried out: ‘You cannot walk! I had not
thought but that you could walk. What shall I do? What
shall I do?”
“You will let me carry him for you,” said some one standing
close behind her. ‘“‘I will carry him wherever you lead.”
No Heart turned with a little cry of surprise. She could not
see the speaker’s face in the darkness, only his dim form; but
she knew the voice. She was not afraid. “Lift him then,”
she said, “‘and follow me.”
She herself raised the wounded one up and placed him on
the newcomer’s back, and then led the way out of the timber,
across the plain, through the stockade, in which she had loosened
a post, and then on to her lodge. No one was about, and they
were not discovered. Within a fire was burning, but there was
no need of the light to show the girl who had helped her. He
was Long Elk. ‘We will put him here,” she said, lifting the
skin in front of the couch she had prepared, and they laid the
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 497
sick man carefully down upon it. Then Long Elk stood for a
little, looking at the girl, but she remained silent and would not
look at him. ‘TI will go now,” he said, “‘but each night I will
come with meat for you and your lover.”
Still the girl did not speak, and he went away. But as soon
as he had gone No-Heart sat down and cried. The sick man
raised up a little and asked, “What troubles you? Why are you
crying?”
“Did you not hear?” she replied. ‘He said that you are my
lover.”
“T know you,” said the man. “They call you No-Heart,
but they lie. You have a heart; I wish it were for me.”
“Don’t!” the girl cried. “Don’t say that again! I will
take care of you, feed you. As your mother is to you, so will
ma. be.”
Now, when night came again, No-Heart went often out in the
passageway, staying there longer and longer each time, return-
ing only to give the sick man water or a little food. At last,
as she was sitting out there in the dark, Long Elk came, and,
feeling for the right place, hung up a piece of meat beyond
the reach of the dogs. ‘‘Comein,” shesaidtohim. ‘Come in
and talk with the wounded one.”
After that Long Elk sat with the Arickaree every night for a
time, and they talked of the things which interest men. While
he was in the lodge No-Heart never spoke, except to say, “Eat
it,’ when she placed food before them. Day after day the
wounded one grew stronger. One night, after Long Elk had
gone, he said, “I am able to travel; to-morrow night I will start
homeward. I want to know why you have taken pity on me;
why you saved me from death?”
“Listen, then,” said the girl. “It was because war is bad;
because I pitied you. Many women here, and many more in
your village, are crying because they have lost the ones they
loved in this quarre’. Of them all, I alone have talked, begging
the chiefs to make peace with you. All the other women were
glad of my words, but they are afraid and do not dare speak for
themselves. I talked and feared not; because no one could bid
me stop. I have helped you, now do you help me; help your
women; help us all. When you get home tell what was done
for you here, and talk hard for peace.”
“So I will,” the Arickaree told her. ‘When they learn all
498 The Book of Woodcraft
that you have done for me, the chiefs will listen. I am sure
they will be glad to stop this war.”
The next night, when Long Elk entered the lodge, he found
the man sitting up. By his side lay his weapons and a little
sack of food. ‘I was waiting for you,” he said. ‘I am well
now and wish to start for home to-night. Will you take me out
beyond the stockade? If any speak you can answer them and —
they will not suspect that their enemy passes by.”
“T will go with you, of course,” Long Elk told him. Where- —
upon he arose, slung on his bow and quiver, the sack of food,
and lifted his shield. No-Heart sat quietly on the opposite
side of the lodge, looking straight at the fire. Long Elk turned
toher: ‘And you?” heasked. “Are you also ready?”
She did not answer, but covered her face with her robe.
“T go alone,” said the Arickaree. “Let us start.”
They went out, through the village, through the stockade,
and across the bottom to the timber, where they stopped.
“You have come far enough,” the Arickaree said; ‘“‘I will go
on alone from here. You have been zood to me. I shall not
forget it. When I arrive home, I shall talk much for peace be-
tween our tribes. I hope we may soon meet again in friendship.”
“Wait,” said the Long Elk, as he turned to go, “I want to
ask you something: Why do you not take No-Heart with
our”?
“T would if she were willing,’ he answered, “‘but she is not
for me. I tell you more truly this. She has been a mother to
me; no more, no less. And you,” he continued, “have you ever
asked her to be your woman? No? Then go now, right now,
and do so.”
“Tt would be useless,’”’ said Long Elk sadly. “Many have
asked her, and she has always turned them away.”
“‘T have seen much while I lay sick in her lodge,” the Arickaree
continued. “I have seen her gaze at you as you sat talking to
me, and her eyes were beautiful then. And I have seen her
become restless and go out and in, out and in, when you were
late. When a woman does that it means that she loves you.
Go and ask her.”
They parted; Long Elk returned to the village. “It could
not be,” he thought, ‘that the young man was right. No, it
could not be.”’ Had he not kept near her these many winters
and summers? and never once had she looked at him, or smiled.
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 499
Thinking thus, he wandered on, and on, and found himself
standing by the entrance to her lodge. Within he heard,
faintly, some one crying. He could not be sure that was it, the
sound of it was solow. He stepped noiselessly in and carefully
drew aside the door skin. No-Heart was sitting where he had
last seen her, sitting before the dying fire, robe over her head,
and she was crying. Hestole past the doorway: and sat down
beside her, quite close, but he dared not touch her. ‘“‘Good-
heart,” he said, “Big-heart, don’t cry.”
But she only cried harder when she heard his words, and he
was much troubled, not knowing what todo. After a little, he
moved closer and put his arm around her; she did not draw
away, so then he drew the robe away from her face. ‘Tell me,”
he said, “why you are crying?”
“Because I am so lonely.”
“Ah! You do love him then. Perhaps it is not too late; I
may be able to overtake him. Shall I go and call him back to
ou?”
“What do you mean?” cried No-Heart, staring at him.
“Who are you talking about?”
“He who has just left: the Arickaree,”’ Long Elk answered.
But now he had edged up still closer, and his arm was tighter
around her, and she leaned heavily against him.
“Was there ever such a blind one?” she said. “Yes, I will
let you know my heart; I will not be ashamed, not afraid to say
it. I was crying because I thought you would not return. All
these summers and winters I have been waiting, hoping that
you would love me, and you never spoke.”
“How could I?” he asked. “You never looked at me; you
made no sign.”
_ “Tt was your place to speak,’’ she said. “Even yet you have
not done so.”
“T do now, then. Will you take me for your man?”
She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, and that
Was answer enough.
In the morning, like any other married man, Long Elk went
out and stood by the entrance to the lodge which was now his,
and shouted feast invitations to his father and friends. They
all came, and all were pleased that he had got such a good
woman. Some made jokes about newly married ones, which
made the young woman cover her face with her robe. Yet she
500 The Book of Woodcraft
was so happy that she would soon throw it back and laugh with
the others.
In a few days came a party from the Arickarees, and the
wounded young man was one of them, asking for peace. The
story was told then, how No-Heart had taken in the young man
and brought him to life again, and when they heard it many
women prayed the gods to be good to her and give her and her
man long life. Peace between the two tribes was then declared,
and there was much rejoicing.— (“My Life as an Indian”;
Schultz; ‘The Story of No-Heart,” pp. 230-238.)
TECUMSEH
Of all the figures in the light of Indian history, that of
Tecumseh, or Tecumtha the ‘‘Leaping Panther,” the war
chief of the Shawnees, stands out perhaps highest and best
as the ideal, noble Redman.
His father was chief of the tribe. Tecumseh was born in
1768 at Piqua Indian Village, near the site of Springfield,
Ohio. Of all the Indians, the Shawnees had been most
energetic and farseeing in their opposition to the encroach-
ments of the whites. But the flood of invasion was too
strong for them. The old chief fell, battling for home and
people, at Point Pleasant, in 1774. His eldest son followed
the father’s footsteps, and the second met death in a hope-
less fight with Wayne in 1794, leaving young Tecumseh
war chief of his tribe. At once he became a national figure.
He devoted his whole life and strength to the task of saving
his people from the invaders, and to that end resolved that
first he must effect a national federation of the Redmen.
Too often tribe had been pitted against tribe for the
white men’s advantage. In union alone he saw the way
of salvation and to this end he set about an active cam-
paign among the tribes of the Mississippi Valley.
His was no mean spirit of personal revenge; his mind was tco
noble for that. He hated the whites as the destroyers of his
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 501
race, but prisoners and the defenceless knew well that they
could rely on his honor and humanity and were safe under his
protection. When only a boy — for his military career began
in childhood — he had witnessed the burning of a prisoner, and
the spectacle was so abhorrent to his feelings that by an earnest
and eloquent harangue he induced the party to give up the
practice forever. In later years his name was accepted by
helpless women and children as a guaranty of protection even
in the midst of hostile Indians. He was of commanding figure,
nearly six feet in height and compactly built; of dignified
bearing and piercing eye, before whose lightning even a British
general quailed. His was the fiery eloquence of a Clay and the
clear-cut logic of a Webster. Abstemious in habit, charitable in
thought and action, he was brave as a lion, but humane and
generous withal — in a word, an aboriginal American knight-
errant, whose life was given to his people (14 Ann. Rep.
Ethn. p., 681.)
During the four years 1807 to 1811 he went from tribe
to tribe urging with all his splendid powers the need for in-
stant and united resistance.
His younger brother, Tenskwatawa the Prophet, was
with him and helped in his way by preaching the regener-
ated doctrine of the Indian life. The movement was
gaining force. But all Tecumseh’s well-laid plans were frus-
trated by the premature battle of Tippecanoe, November
7, 1811. In this his brother, the Prophet, was defeated
and every prospect of an Indian federation ended for the
time.
The War of 1812 gave Tecumseh a chance to fight the
hated Americans. As a British general he won many
battles for his allies, but was killed leading his warriors
at Moraviantown, near Chatham, Ontario, on October 5,
1813. His personal prowess, his farseeing statesmanship,
his noble eloquence, and lofty character have given him
a place on the very highest plane among patriots and
martyrs.
502 The Book of Woodcraft
If ever the great Hiawatha was reincarnated it must
have been in the form of Tecumseh. Like Hiawatha, he
devoted his whole life to the service of his people on the
most heroic lines. Like Hiawatha, he planned a national
federation of all Redmen that should abolish war among ~
themselves and present asolid front to the foreign invader.
“‘ America for the Americans’? was his cry, and all his life
and strength were devoted tothe realization of his dream.
Valiant as Pontiac, wise as Metacomet, magnificent as
Powhatan, kind and gentle as the young Winona, he was a
farther-seeing statesman than they ever had had before,
and above all was the first leading Redman to put an end
to the custom for which they chiefly are blamed, the tor-
turing of prisoners. His people were always kind to their
own; his great soul made him kind to all the world. He
fought his people’s battles to the end, and when he knew
the cause was lost he laid aside his British uniform,
girded himself in his Indian war-chief dress for the final
scene, bade good-bye to his men and went forth, like King
Saul on Mt. Gilboa’s fatal field, to fight and fighting die.
And the Star of his race had set.
Measured by any scale, judged by any facts, there can
be but one verdict: He was a great man, an Indian
without guile, a mighty soldier and statesman, loved and
revered by all who knew him. More than a Red noble-
man, he was acclaimed by all his kin who knew his life
as in very truth a Son of God.
KANAKUK, THE KICKAPOO PROPHET
““My father,”’ he pleaded with President Monroe, “the
Great Spirit holds all the world in his hands. I pray to
him that we may not be removed from our lands. . . .
Take pity on us and let us remain where we are.”
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 503
Such was the petition of Kanakuk, peace prophet and
leader in 1819, when the Kickapoos: were ordered to leave
the fertile corn lands of their fathers in Illinois and move
out into the rugged hills of Missouri, among their tradi-
tional enemies, the Osages.
The effect of the petition was much the same as that
which Naboth sent unto Ahab when that “president” of
God’s people coveted Naboth’s heritage.
And what had they to charge against Kanakuk or his
people? ‘Their claim to the land was unquestioned. Were
they objectionable or dangerous as neighbors? Surely not.
No one pretended it. The doctrine Kanakuk taught his
kindly people was a close parallel of the Ten Command-
ments, with the added clauses of non-resistance to violence,
and of abstinence from drinking, gambling, and _horse-
racing.
Catlin, who visited the Prophet in his new home in 1831,
and erronoeusly supposed the Kickapoo got these teachings
from the Bible and the Christian missionaries, says (p. 697):
I was singularly struck with the noble efforts of this champion
of the mere remnant of a poisoned race, so strenuously laboring
to rescue the remainder of his people from the deadly bane that
has been brought amongst them by enlightened Christians.
How far the efforts of this zealous man have succeeded in Chris-
tianizing, I cannot tell; but itis quite certain that his exemplary
and constant endeavors have completely abolished the practice
of drinking whiskey in his tribe, which alone is a very praise-
worthy achievement, and the first and indispensable step toward
all other improvements. I was some time amongst those
people, and was exceedingly pleased and surprised also to wit-
ness their sobriety and their peaceable conduct, not having seen
an instance of drunkenness, or seen or heard of any use of spiritu-
ous liquors whilst I was among them.— (Catlin, Vol. II, p.98.)
In 1883 there was a great renewal of his teaching among his
people, and their kin in the Indian Territory. Their ritual con-
504 The Book of Woodcraft
sisted chiefly of a ceremonial dance. The doctrine taught the
same code as the Ten Commandments, but especially forbade
drinking, gambling and horse-racing. — (14 Ann. Rep. B. A. E.,
p. 706.)
In 1885 the local Indian agent, Patrick, wrote in a curi-
ously superior vein of this ancient faith revived.
These Indians are chaste, cleanly, and industrious, and would
be a valuable acquisition to the Prairie band if it were not for
their intense devotion to a religious dance started among the
northern Indians some years since. This dance was introduced
to the Prairie band about two years ago by the Absentee Pot-
tawatomies and Winnebagoes, and has spread throughout the
tribes in the agency. They seem to have adopted the religion
as a means of expressing their belief in the justice and mercy of
the Great Spirit and of their devotion to him, and are so earnest
in their convictions as to its affording them eternal happiness
that I have thought it impolitic, so far, to interfere with it any
further than to advise as few meetings as possible and to dis-
countenance it in my intercourse with the individuals practising
the religion. It is not an unmixed evil, as, under its teaching,
drunkenness and gambling have been reduced 75 per cent., and
a departure from virtue on the part of its members meets with
the severest condemnation. As some tenets of revealed re-
ligion are embraced in its doctrines, I do not consider it a back-
ward step for the Indians who have not heretofore professed
belief in any Christian religion, and believe its worst features are
summed up in the loss of time it occasions, and the fanatical
train of thought involved in the constant contemplation of the
subject. — (Comr., 6.) (Mooney’s “Ghost Dance Religion,”
14 Ann. Rep. B. A. E., p. 706.)
CHIEF JOSEPH HINMATON OF THE SAHAPTIN OR
NEZ PERCES
They [Nez Percés and Flat-heads] were friendly in their
dispositions, and honest to the most scrupulous degree in their
intercourse with the white men. . . . Simply to call these
6
4
.
q
a
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 505
people religious would convey but a faint idea of the deep hue of
piety and devotion which pervades the whole of their conduct.
Their honesty is immaculate; and their purity of purpose and
observance of the rites of their religion are most uniform and
remarkable. They are certainly more like a nation of saints
than a horde of savages.
So they were described in Captain Bonneville’s narrative
after his visit in 1834.
They were first officially noticed in the report of the Indian
Commissioner for 1843, where they are described as “noble,
industrious, sensible,” and well disposed toward the whites,
while “though brave as Cesar,” the whites have nothing to dread
at their hands in case of their dealing out to them what they
conceive to be right and equitable. — (14 Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn.,
Pp. 712.)
About the middle of the last century their chief was
Hinmaton-Kalatkit (Thunder-rolling), known more gen-
erally as Chief Joseph.
He was a splendid example of the best type of Redman,
of superb physique, clinging to the ancient way, beloved
by his people, feared by his enemies and, as it proved, a
leader of tremendous power and resource.
In 1877, after they had sustained innumerable encroach-
ments and flagrant violations of their treaty, a quarrel
broke out between them and the whites and an Indian
was killed.
Chief Joseph restrained his men and appealed for justice.
For reply a band of whites raided the Indian reservation,
ran off their cattle and killed the Indian in charge. So the
war broke out. The first three fights were defeats for the
whites, but more troops were soon rushed up. Joseph had
barely one hundred warriors and three hundred and fifty
helpless women and children. General Howard was behind
him, General ‘Miles in front, Colonel Sturges and the Crows
506. The Book of Woodcraft
on his flank. He was obliged to retreat, and did so for
one thousand miles. ‘‘A retreat worthy to be remembered
with the story of the Ten Thousand.”
After four months his starving band of warriors, now
reduced to half, surrendered to General Miles on condition
of being sent back to Idaho in the spring.
It was promised Joseph that he would be taken to Tongue
River and kept there till spring and then be returned to Idaho.
General Sheridan, ignoring the promises made on the battle-
fleld, ostensibly on account of the difficulty of getting supplies
there from Fort Buford, ordered the hostiles to Leavenworth
‘ but different treatment was promised them when they
held rifles in their hands. — (Sutherland, EA)
Seven years passed before the promise was kept, and in ‘the
meantime the band had been reduced by disease and death in
Indian Territory from about 450 to about 280.
This strong testimony to the high character of Joseph and his
people and the justice of their cause comes from the commis-
sioner at the head of Indian affairs during and immediately after
the outbreak:
I traveled with him in Kansas and the Indian Territory for
nearly a week and found him to be one of the most gentlemanly
and well-behaved Indians that I ever met. He is bright and
intelligent, and is anxious for the welfare of his people.
The Nez Percés are very much superior to the Osages and Paw-
nees in the Indian Territory; they are even brighter than the
Poncas, and care should be taken to place them where they will
thrive. . . . It will be borne in mind that Joseph has never
made a treaty with the United States, and that he has never
surrendered to the government the lands he claimed to own in
Idaho. . . . I had occasion in my last annual report to
say that “Joseph and his followers have shown themselves to
be brave men and skilled soldiers, who, with one exception, have
observed the rules of civilized warfare, and have not mutilated
their dead enemies.”’ These Indians were encroached upon by
white settlers on soil they believed to be their own, and when
these encroachments became intolerable they were compelled,
in their own estimation, to take up arms.’’ — (Comr. 274.)
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 507
In all our sad Indian history there is nothing to exceed in
pathetic eloquence the surrender speech of the Nez Percé
chief:
“T am tired of fighting. Our chiefs are killed. Looking-Glass
is dead. Toohulhulsote is dead. The old men are all dead.
It is the young who say ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ He who led the young
men is dead. It is cold and we have no blankets. The little
children are freezing to death. My people, some of them, have
run away to the hills and have no blankets, no food. No one
knows where they are — perhaps freezing to death. I want
to have time to look for my children and see how many of them
I can find. Maybe I shall find them among the dead. Hear
me, my chiefs. Iam tired. My heart is sick and sad. From
where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever.”” — (Sec.
War. 3.) (Ann. Rep. Bur. Ethn. 14, p. 714-15.)
WHITE CALF, CHIEF OF THE BLACKFEET
(Died at Washington, Jan. 29, 1903)
(By George Bird Grinnell)
For sixty years, as boy, young man and fierce warrior,
he had roamed the prairie, free as the other wild creatures
who ‘traversed it, and happy in his freedom.
He had been but a little fellow when the white men first
came into the country to trade, but he was old enough to
have been present, and was well enough thought of in the
tribe, at the signing of Governor Stevens’s treaty with the
Prairie people in 1855, to affix his mark — as The Father -——
to that paper. As yet the coming of the white man meant
little to him and to his people. It furnished them a market
for their robes and furs, for which they received in exchange
guns and ammunition, which made them more than ever
terrible to their enemies. The whole broad prairie was
still theirs to camp on and to hunt over. Their lodges were
pitched along the streams from the Red Deer River on the
508 The Book of Woodcraft
north to the Elk River on the south, and their war journeys
extended south to the country of the Mexicans.
More than twenty years ago happened the greatest mis-
fortune that ever came to his tribe. The buffalo disap-
peared and never returned. From this time forth they were
forced to depend on the food given them by the white men,
and, in order to receive that food, they were obliged to stay
in one place, to confine themselves to that little corner of
ground, their reservation.
Long before this he had become the chief of his tribe —
the father of his people. Already he was putting their
welfare before his own, was thinking first of them and of
himself last.
For it was the duty of a chief to look out for the well-
being of his people; to care for the widows and orphans;
to make peace between those who quarrel; to give his whole
heart and his whole mind to the work of helping his people
to be happy. Such were the duties that the old-time chief
studied te perform. And since on his example and his
precept so much depended, he must be a man who was
brave in war, generous in disposition, liberal in temper,
deliberate in making up his mind, and of good judgment.
Such men gave themselves to their work with heart and
soul, and strove for the welfare of those in their charge
with an earnestness and a devotion that perhaps are not
equaled by any other rulers of men.
And this devotion to his fellows was not without its in-
fluence on the man himself; after a time the spirit of good
will which animated him began to shine forth in his coun-
tenance, so that at length, and as they grew old, such chiefs
came to have the beneficent and kindly expression that we
may sometimes see on the countenance of an elderly minis-
ter of God whose life has been one long, loving sacrifice of
self to his Maker and to his fellowmen. And if the face
eae oe at a, at
a I mn rm ie
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 509
was benevolent and kindly, not less sweet and gentle was
the spirit that animated the man. Simple, honest, generous,
tender-hearted, and yet withal on occasion merry and jolly.
Such men, once known, commanded universal respect and
admiration. They were like the conventional notion of
Indians in nothing save in the color of the skin. They
were true friends, delightful companions, wise counselors
—men whose conduct toward their fellowmen we all’
might profitably imitate. We do not commonly attribute
a spirit of altruism to Indians, but it was seen in these old-
time chiefs.
Such a chief was White Calf, long chief of the Blackfeet.
In his day he had been a famous warrior, and in the battle
which took place in 1867, when the great chief, Many
Horses, was killed, White Calf with two others had rushed
into a great crowd of the enemy — the Crows and Gros-
Ventres — who were trying to kill Wolf Calf, even then an
old man, and, scattering them like smoke before the wind,
had pulled the old man out of the crush and brought him
safely off. It was not long after this that he put aside the
warpath forever, and since then had confined himself to
working for the good of his people by the arts of peace.
No sacrifice was too great for him to make if he thought
that by it the tribe might be helped; yet he possessed a
sturdy independence that bullying and intimidation could
not move — even that threats of soldiers and the guard
house could not shake. When he was sure that he was right
he could not be stirred. Yet, if reasons were advanced
which appealed to his judgment, no man was quicker to
acknowledge error.
Though nearly eighty years old the chief was not bowed
with the weight of time nor were his natural forces greatly
abated. He was still erect and walked with a briskness
and an elasticity rare for one of his years. Yet in a degree
510 The Book of Woodcraft
he felt that his powers were failing, and he sometimes
avoided the decision of important questions on the ground
that he was getting old and his mind was no longer good.
A little more than two weeks ago he stood in the pres-
ence of the Chief Magistrate of the nation, who shook him
warmly by the hand and talked to him and the others of
his people present. A few days later, just as they were
about to leave Washington for their distant prairie home,
the old chief caught cold, pneumonia set in, and just
before midnight on the 29th of January he peacefully
passed away.
He was a man who was great in the breadth of his judg-
ment, and in the readiness with which he recognized the
changes he and his people were now obliged to face, and
adapted himself to these changes; but greatest of all, in
the devotion that he held for his tribe, and in the way in
which he sacrificed himself for their welfare. Buffalo
hunter, warrior, savage ruler and diplomat; then learner,
instructor, persuader and encourager in new ways, he was
always the father of the people. Just as for many years
he had been constantly serving them, so now, at the end of
his long chieftainship, he gave up his life in the successful
effort to protect them from a great calamity.
WOVOKA, THE PROPHET OF THE GHOST DANCE
There have been many in every tribe and every time who
have brought shame on their people. There have been
whole tribes who forgot their race’s high ideals. From
time to time great prophets have arisen amongst them to
stir up these backsliders, and bring them back to the faith
of their fathers. The last of these was Wovoka, the Piute
—the Mystic Dreamer. About 1887 he began preaching
his doctrine of the coming Messiah and taught the Red-
a
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 511
men that they must worship him by the Ghost dance. This
is his own simple setting forth of the doctrine:
When the Sun died I went up into Heaven and saw God and
all the people who had died a long time ago. God told me to
come back and tell my people they must be good and love
one another and not to fight or steal or lie. He gave me this
dance to give to my people. — (Ethn. Ann. 14. p. 764.)
At Pine Ridge, S. D., in the winter of 1890, the Sioux
were learning this dance with its songs and its Christ-like
creed. It meant the end of war. War had been their
traditional noblest pursuit. But now at the bidding of the
new prophet they agreed to abjure it forever; and they pre-
pared to take up the new religion of love.
The Indian agent, like most of his kind, was ignorant
and utterly unfitted for his position. He said it was some
new sort of a war dance. ‘The troops were sent for and the
Indian populace was gathered together at a place called
‘Wounded Knee near Pine Ridge (Dec. 29, 1890). They
had submitted and turned in their rifles. Then, maddened
by the personal indignities offered them in searching for
more arms, a young Indian who still had a gun fired at the
soldiers. It is not stated that he hit any one, but the
answer was a volley that killed half the men. A minute
later a battery of four Hotchkiss machine guns was turned
on the defenceless mass of virtual prisoners; 120 men, and
250 helpless women and children were massacred in broad
daylight, mown down, and left on the plain, while the white
soldiers pursued the remnant and the cripples, to do them
to death in the hills.
Almost all the dead warriors were found lying near where the
“fight” began, about Bigfoot’s teepee, but the bodies of the
women and children were found scattered along for two miles
Gre The Book of Woodcraft
from the scene of the encounter, showing that they had been
killed while trying to escape. — (Ethn. Ann. 14, pp. 868 — 870.)
As the men were in a separate company from the women
and children, no one pretended that it was accidental.
The women, as they were fleeing with their babes, were
killed together, shot right through, and the women who were
very heavy with child were also killed. All the Indians fled
in these three directions, and after most all of them had been
killed, a cry was made that all those who were not killed or
wounded should come forth and they would be safe. Little
boys who were not wounded came out of their places of refuge,
and as soon as they came in sight, a number of soldiers sur-
rounded them and butchered them there. — (“Ghost Dance
Religion,” Mooney; Ethn. Rep. 14. 885-886.)
Nothing in the way of punishment was done by the
authorities to any of the assassins. When the guards of
Czar Nicholas shot down some scores of peasants who, con-
trary to orders, marched in a body to his palace, all America
rang with horror and indignation, but nothing was said
about the infinitely worse massacre at Wounded Knee.
As sure as there is a God in Heaven, this thing has to be
met again, and for every drop of righteous blood spilled
that day and on a thousand other days of like abomination,
a fearful vengeance is being stored and will certainly break
on us.
As sure as Cain struck down himself when he mur-
dered Abel; as sure as the blood of righteous Naboth
cried from the ground and wrecked the house and the
kingdom and the race of Ahab; so surely has the
American nation to stand before the bar of an earthly
power — a power invincible, overwhelming, remorseless,
and pay the uttermost price.
As sure as this land was taken by fraud and held by
eee eee
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 513
cruelty and massacre, we have filled for ourselves a
vial of wrath. It will certainly be outpoured on us to
the last drop and the dregs. What the Persian did to
rich and rotten Babylon, what the Goth did to rich and
bloody Rome, another race will surely do to us.
If ever the aroused and reinspired Yellow man comes
forth in his hidden strength, in his reorganized millions,
overpowering, slaying, burning, possessing, we can only
bow our heads and say, ‘‘’ These are the instruments of God’s
wrath. We brought this on ourselves. All this we did to
the Redman. The fate of Babylon and of bloody Rome is
ours. We wrote our own doom as they did.”
THE APACHE INDIAN’S CASE
}
(From “On the Border with Crook” by Captain John
G. Bourke, U. S. A. Courtesy of Messrs Charles Scrib-
ner’s Sons.)
For years I have collected the data and have contem-
plated the project of writing the history of this people,
based not only upon the accounts transmitted to us from
the Spaniards and their descendants, the Mexicans, but
upon the Apache’s own story, as conserved in his myths,
and traditions; but I have lacked both the leisure and the
inclination, to put the project into execution. It would
require a man with the even-handed sense of justice pos-
sessed by a Guizot, and the keen, critical, analytical powers
of a Gibbon, to deal fairly with a question in which the
ferocity of the savage Redman has been more than equaled
by the’ ferocity of the Christian Caucasian; in which the
occasional treachery of the aborigines has found its best
excuse in the unvarying Punic faith of the Caucasian in-
vader; in which promises on each side have been made,
514 The Book of Woodcraft
only to deceive and to be broken; in which the red hand
of war has rested most heavily upon shrieking mother
and wailing babe.
If from this history, the Caucasian can extract any
cause of self-laudation I am glad of it: speaking as a cen-
sor who has read the evidence with as much impartiality as
could be expected from one who started in with the sincere
conviction that the only good Indian was a dead Indian,
and that the only use to make of him was that of a fertilizer;
and who, from studying the documents in the case, and
listening little by little to the savage’s own story, has ar-
rived at the conclusion that perhaps Pope Paul III was
right when he solemnly declared that the natives of the
New World had souls and must be treated as human beings,
and admitted to the sacraments when found ready to re-
ceive them. I feel it to be my duty to say that the Apache
has found himself in the very best of company when he
committed any atrocity, it matters not how vile, and that
his complete history, if it could be written by himself, would
not be any special cause of self-complacency to such white
men as believe in a just God, who will visit the sins of par-
ents upon their children, even to the third and fourth
generation.
We have become so thoroughly Pecksniffian in our self-
laudation, in our exaltation of our own virtues, that we
have become grounded in the error of imagining that the
American savage is more cruel in his war customs than
other nations of the earth have been; this I have already
intimated, in a misconception, and statistics, for such as
care to dig them out, will prove that I am right. The
Assyrians cut their conquered foes limb from limb; the
Israelites spared neither parent nor child; the Romans
crucified head downward the gladiators who revolted under
Spartacus; even in the civilized England of the past century,
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 515
the wretch convicted of treason was executed under cir-
cumstances of cruelty which would have been too much for
the nerves of the fiercest of the Apaches or Sioux. In-
stances in support of what I here assert crop up all over
the pages of history; the trouble is, not to discover them,
but to keep them from blinding the memory to matters
more pleasant to remember. Certainly, the American
aborigine is not indebted to his pale-faced brother, no
matter of what nation or race he may be, for lessons in
tenderness and humanity.
After reviewing the methods by which the gentle, friendly
natives were turned into tigers, Bourke gives this final
example:
‘“‘And then there have been ‘Pinole Treaties,’ in which
the Apaches have been invited to sit down and eat repasts
seasoned with the exhilarating strychnine. So that, take
it for all in all, the honors have been easy so far as treachery,
brutality, cruelty and lust have been concerned. The one
great difference has been that the Apache could not read
or write and hand down to posterity the story of his wrongs,
as he, and he alone, knew them.”—(‘‘On the Border with
Crook,” John G. Bourke, pp. 114-15-16-17-18.)
THE WIPING OUT OF NANNI-CHADDI
(December 27th, 1872.)
(From the account by Captain J. G. Bourke, in his book
“On the Border with Crook” 1892. By permission of
Messrs Charles Scribner’s Sons.)
For the same old reason, as always before, the Apaches
of Arizona were fighting the whites, but doing it successfully.
The Government at length sent against them fresh
516 The Book of Woodcraft
troops under Gen. George Crook, who was said by Gen.
W. T. Sherman to be the greatest Indian fighter and
manager that the Army of the United States had had.
But, more than this, he was a man respected, admired and
beloved by every one who knew him — friend or foe. All
the wise ones felt that the solution was in sight when Crook
took command. ;
Throughout the history of the matter, we find the great
General torn by two conflicting thoughts — first, ““My —
duty as a soldier of my country”; and, second, “These .
Indians are in the right.” In his own words, ‘‘The Ameri- —
can Indian commands respect for his rights, only so long
as he inspires terror with his rifle.”
With characteristic sternness, energy and fortitude he —
began the campaign, as winter set in, just when his pred- —
ecessors had moved into comfortable quarters.
To realize that the mountains were full of Apaches that
swooped down at unexpected times, spreading fire and
slaughter and fearful destruction — was one thing and an
easy one, but to find them and strike back was a wholly
different matter.
The white soldiers under Crook would have been power-
less, in spite of their far superior numbers, their superb
equipment, abundance of food and ammunition, but for
the fact that the Apaches themselves were divided, and the
white soldiers had with them a large band of these red
renegades, who did all the scouting, trailing and finer work
of following and finding the foe, as well as guarding their
white allies from surprise.
Late in December, Major Brown, with three companies
of the Fifth Cavalry, some forty Apache scouts, and about
one hundred more from the Pima nation, under their Chief,
Esquinosquizn or Bocon, set out to run down the band of
Chief Chuntz, who was terrorizing those settlers that had
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 517
encroached on the acknowledged territory of the Apaches,
the Gila and Salt River valleys. They were led by Nan-
tahay, a renegade Apache of the region, and set out fully
equipped and determined to kill or capture every Apache
they could find.
Led by these renegades, the soldiers crept silently up a
tremendous canyon, and at last into plain view of a large,
shallow cave or natural rock shed in which was a consider-
able band of Apache Indians, men, women, and children,
only forty yards away and wholly unconscious of the
enemy so near.
The men were singing and dancing in a religious cere-
mony; the women were preparing the midday meal. The
white soldiers had ample time to post themselves and select
each his victim.
“‘ Had not the Apaches been interested in their own sing-
ing they might surely have heard the low whisper, ‘‘ Ready!
aim! fire!’ but it would have been too late; the die was
cast, and their hour had come.
The fearful noise, which we have heard reverberating
from peak to peak and from crag to crag, was the volley
poured in by Ross and his comrades, which had sent six
souls to their last account, and sounded the death-knell of
a powerful band.
* * * * * * *
Brown’s first work was to see that the whole line was
impregnable to assault from the beleaguered garrison of the
cave, and then he directed his interpreters to summon all
to an unconditional surrender. The only answer was a
shriek of hatred and defiance, threats of what we had to
expect, yells of exultation at the thought that not one of
us should ever see the light of another day.
* * * * * * *
518 The Book of Woodcraft
There was a lull of a few minutes; each side was measur-
ing its own strength and that of its opponent. It was
apparent that any attempt to escalade without. ladders
would result in the loss of more than half our command;
the great rock wall in front of the cave was not an inch
less than ten feet in height at its lowest point, and smooth
as the palm of the hand; it would be madness to attempt to
climb it, because the moment the assailants reached the
top, the lances of the invested force could push them back
to the ground, wounded to death. Three or four of our
picked shots were posted in eligible positions overlooking
the places where the Apaches had been seen to expose
themselves; this, in the hope that any recurrence of such
foolhardiness, would afford an opportunity for the sharp-
shooters to show their skill. Of the main body, one half
was in reserve fifty yards behind the skirmish line — to
call it such, where the whole business was a skirmish line
— with carbines loaded and cocked, and a handful of cart-
ridges on the clean rocks in front, and every man on the
lookout to prevent the escape of a single warrior, should
any be fortunate enough to sneak or break through the
first line. The men on the first line had orders to fire as
rapidly as they chose, directing aim against the roof of
the cave, with the view to having the bullets glance down
among the Apache men, who had massed immediately back
of the rock rampart.
This plan worked admirably, and, so far as we could
judge, our shots were telling upon the Apaches and irrita-
ting them to that degree that they no longer sought shelter,
but boldly faced our fire, and returned it with energy, the
weapons of the men being reloaded by the women, who
shared their dangers. A wail from a squaw and the feeble
cry of a little babe were proof that the missiles of death
were not seeking men alone. Brown ordered our fire to
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 519
cease, and for the last time summoned the Apaches to
surrender, or to let their women and children come out
unmolested. On their side, the Apaches also ceased all
hostile demonstrations, and it seemed to some of us Ameri-
cans that they must be making ready to yield, and were
discussing the matter among themselves. Our Indian
guides and interpreters raised the cry, ‘Look out! there
goes the Death Song; they are going to charge!” It wasa
weird chant,* one not at all easy to describe, half wail and
half exultation — the frenzy of despair, and the wild cry
for revenge. Now, the petulant, querulous treble of the
squaws kept time with the shuffling feet, and again the
deeper growl of the savage bull-dogs, who represented man-
hood in that cave, was flung back from the cold, pitiless
brown of the cliffs.
“Look out! here they come!’”’ Over the rampart,
guided by one impulse, moving as if they were all part of
one body, jumped and ran twenty of the warriors — superb-
looking fellows, all of them; each carried upon his back a
quiver filled with the long reed arrows of the tribe; each
held in his hands a bow and a rifle, the latter at full cock.
Half of the party stood upon the rampart, which gave
them some chance to sight our men behind the smaller
rocks in front, and blazed away for all they were worth —
they were trying to make a demonstration to engage our
attention, while the other part suddenly slipped down and
around our right flank, and out through the rocks which
had so effectively sheltered the retreat of the one who had
so nearly succeeded in getting away, earlier in the morning.
Their motives were divined, and the move was frustrated;
* A Death Song, probably the one used here, is:
“Father we are going out to die,
Let not fear enter into our hearts.
For ourselves, we grieve not, but for those that are left behind.
We are going out to die.”
520 The Book of Woodcraft
our men rushed to the attack like furies, each seeming to
be anxious to engage the enemy at close quarters. Six or
seven of the army were killed in a space not twenty-five
feet square, and the rest driven back within the cave, more
or less wounded.
x * * * * * *
One of the charging party, seeing that so much atten-
tion was converged upon our right, had slipped down un-
noticed from the rampart, and made his way to the space
between our two lines, and had sprung to the top of a huge ~
boulder, and there had begun his war-whoop, as a token of
encouragement to those still behind. I imagine that he |
was not aware of our second line, and thought that once in
our rear, ensconced in a convenient nook in the rocks, he
could keep us busy by picking us off at his leisure. His —
chant was never fiendish; it was at once his song of glory —
and his death song; he had broken through our line of fire,
only to meet a far more cruel death. Twenty carbines
were gleaming in the sunlight just flushing the cliffs; forty —
eyes were sighting along the barrels. The Apache looked ~
into the eyes of his enemies, and in not one did he see the ©
slightest sign of mercy; he tried to say something; what it —
was we never could tell. ‘No! no! soldadoes!” in broken —
Spanish, was all we could make out, before the resounding ©
volley had released another soul from its earthly casket ©
and let the bleeding corpse fall to the ground, as limp as a
wet moccasin. He was really a handsome warrior; tall,
well-proportioned, finely muscled, and with a bold, manly
countenance. ‘‘Shot to death,’ was the verdict of all —
who paused to look upon him, but that didn’t half express
the state of the case. I have never seen a man more thor-
oughly shot to pieces than was this one; every bullet seemed
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 521
to have struck, and not less than eight or ten had inflicted
mortal wounds.
The savages in the cave, with death staring them in the
face, did not seem to lose their courage — or shall we say
despair? They resumed their chant, and sang with vigor
and boldness, until Brown determined that the battle or
siege must end. Our two lines were now massed in one,
and every officer and man told to get ready a package of
cartridges; then, as fast as the breech-block of the carbine
could be opened and lowered, we were to fire into the
mouth of the cave, hoping to inflict the greatest damage by
glancing bullets, and then charge in by the entrance on our
right flank, back of the rock rampart which had served as
the means of exit for the hostiles when they made their
attack.
* * * * * * *
The Apaches did not relax their fire, but, from the in-
creasing groans of the women, we knew that our shots were
telling, either upon the women in the cave, or upon their
relatives among the men for whom they were sorrowing.
It was exactly like fighting with wild animals in a trap;
the Apaches had made up their minds to die, if relief did
not reach them from some of the other ‘“‘rancherias”’ sup-
posed to be close by.
* * * * * * *
Burns and several others went to the crest and leaned
over, to see what all the frightful hubub was about. They
saw the conflict going on beneath them and in spite of the
smoke, could make out that the Apaches were nestling up
close to the rock rampart, so as to avoid as much as pos-
sible the projectiles which were raining down from the roof
of their eyrie home.
522 The Book of Woodcraft
It didn’t take Burns five seconds to decide what should
be done; he had two of his men harnessed with the sus-
penders of their comrades, and made them lean well over
the precipice, while the harness was used to hold them in
place; these men were to fire with their revolvers at the
enemy beneath, and for a volley or so they did very effec-
tive work, but their Irish blood got the better of their rea-
son and, in their excitement, they began to throw their
revolvers at the enemy; this kind of ammunition was rather
too costly, but it suggested a novel method of annihilating
the enemy. Brown ordered his men to get together and
roll several of the huge boulders, which covered the surface
;
——— i eS ee
of the mountain, and drop them over on the unsuspecting ©
foe. The noise was frightful, the destruction sickening.
Our volleys were still directed against the inner faces of the —
cave and the roof, and the Apaches seemed to realize that
their only safety lay in crouching close to the great stone ©
heap in front; but even this precarious shelter was now taken ~
away; the air was filled with the bounding, plunging frag-
ments of stone, breaking into thousands of pieces, with —
other thousands behind, crashing with the momentum ~
gained in a descent of hundreds of feet. No human voice
could be heard in such a cyclone of wrath; the volume of —
dust was so dense that no eye could pierce it, but over on
our left, it seemed that for some reason we could still dis- —
cern several figures guarding that extremity of the enemy’s
—— ~~.) Se
line — the old Medicine Man, who, decked in all the |
panoply of his office, with feathers on head, decorated shirt
on back, and all the sacred insignia known to his people,
had defied the approach of death, and kept his place, firing
coolly at everything that moved on our side, that he could
see, his rifle reloaded and handed back by his assistants —
either squaws or young men— it was impossible to tell
which, as only the arms could be noted in the air. Major
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 523
Brown signaled up to Burns to stop pouring down his
boulders, and at the same time our men were directed to
cease firing and to make ready to charge; the fire of the
Apaches had ceased, and their chant of defiance was
hushed. There was a feeling in the command as if we were
about to rush through the gates of a cemetery, and that
we should find a ghastly spectacle within, but, at the same
time, it might be that the Apaches had retreated to some
recesses in the innermost depths of the cavern, unknown
to us, and be prepared to assail all who ventured to cross
the wall in front.
Precisely at noon we advanced, Corporal Hanlon, of
Company G., Fifth Cavalry, being the first man to sur-
mount the parapet. I hope that my readers will be satis-
fied with the meagrest description of the awful sight that
met our eyes. ‘There were men and women dead orwrithing
in the agonies of death, and with them several babies,
killed by our glancing bullets, or by the storm of rocks and
stones that descended from above. While one portion of
the command worked at extricating the bodies from be-
neath the pile of débris, another stood guard with cocked
revolvers or carbines, ready to blow out the brains of the
first wounded savage who might in his desperation attempt
to kill one of our people. But this precaution was entirely
useless. All the warriors were dead or dying.
* *k * * * * * *
Thirty-five, if I remember aright, were still living, but
in the number are included all who were still breathing;
many were already dying, and nearly one half were dead
before we started out of that dreadful place. None of the
walriors were conscious, except one old man, who serenely
awaited the last summons; he had received five or six
wounds, and was practically dead when we sprang over the
\
524 The Book of Woodcraft
entrance wall. There was a general sentiment of sorrow
for the old Medicine Man who had stood up so fiercely
on the left of the Apache line, we found his still warm corpse
crushed out of all semblance to humanity, beneath a huge
mass of rock, which has also extinguished at one fell stroke
the light of the life of the squaw and the young man who
had remained by his side.’”?— (“On the Border with
Crook”; Bourke; pp. 196-9).
Seventy-six, including all the men, were killed. Eigh-
teen women and six children were taken prisoners. Thus
was wiped out a band of heroic men whose victorious foes
admitted that their victims were in the right.
THE CHEYENNES’ LAST FIGHT, OR THE ENDING OF DULL
KNIFE’S BAND
(Condensed by permission from E. B. Bronson’s
account as given in ““Reminiscences of a Ranchman.”
D.P.&Co. This with “The Redblood” by the same
author should be read by all who are interested in the
heroic days of the West.)
After the Custer fight, the American Army succeeded in
rounding up the Indians who could not or would not escape
to Canada, the one land of justice that was near, and
among these were Dull Knife’s Cheyennes. They sur-
rendered on promise of fair treatment.
But as soon as they were in the power of the American
Government (President R. B. Hayes), they were marched
six hundred miles south into Indian Territory, where they
were crowded into a region so unhealthy that it was obvi-
ously a question of but three or four years before all would
—————— ee
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 525
die. They were starving, too, for the promised rations
were never delivered. Nearly half were sick of fevers and
malaria, for medicine was refused them. The two hun-
dred and thirty-five warriors were reduced to sixty-nine.
The extermination of the tribe was being effected. They
begged for succor; they asked only to go home to their
own land, but, as usual, no* notice was taken of their
prayers.
They could not live where they were. The American
Government was obviously bent on killing them off, so they
decided that it would be better to die at home — taking the
chance of bullets rather than the certainty of fever.
On the ninth of September, 1878, therefore, Dull Knife,
their head chief, gathered in his ponies, packed up his camp, -
burned the last bridge, and, with warriors, women, and
children, set out for home, in defiance of the soldiers of a
corrupt government.
At dawn his departure was discovered, troops were
ordered out, telegraph wires were busied, and then began a
flight and a pursuit the story of which should thrill the
world for the heroism of the fugitives, and shock humanity
for the diabolical brutality of the American authorities.
Two thousand troops were sent against this handful of
some sixty-nine warriors, sick and weak with starvation,
and encumbered with about two hundred and fifty, more
or less, sick women and children.
I do not believe there was an American soldier who was
not ashamed of his job. But he had no right to an opinion.
He was under orders to run down and capture or kill this
band of starving Indians, whose abominable crime was that
they loved their homes. °
We have had fragmentary accounts of that awful flight.
Night and day the warriors. rode and fought. Some days
they, covered seventy miles and when their horses gave out,
526 The Book of Woodcraft
they raided the settlements for a new supply. Against them |
were four lines of:soldiers, with railroads to keep them
supplied and the United States Treasury to draw on, and
yet this starving band of heroes fought them in two or three
pitched battles every week; fought them when nearly even; ©
eluded them when too strong; fooled them, and caring ever
for their wives and families, left all behind; and, at last, on
the fourth of October, the grand old warrior led his people
across the South Platte and on to the comparative haven of
the Niobrara Sandhills.
This waterless waste of sand gave them a little respite
from the troops, but no chance to rest, or food toeat. They
must push on, subsisting on flesh of horses, sacrificed as they
had need.
Fresh cordons of troops were made in the country north
of the Sandhills, and on the eighth of October army
scouts reported Indian signs near Hot Creek.
On the thirteenth of October a small band of the fighters
raided a store and drove off a band of horses from a place
one mile east of Fort Robinson. These gave them new sup-
plies, but it also gave their enemies the trail, and four troops
of cavalry were at once sent to surround Crow Butte, the
Cheyenne camp. But the Indians were not caught nap-
ping, the next morning dawned to show only that they had
quietly passed all lines and were now far on the road to
Canada. :
Later it was learned that this was the larger part of the
band, but was under Little Wolf not Dull Knife. He safely
led them all, and escaped without the loss of a man to the
far north and found rest.
This march is not excelled in the annals of warfare. It
covered a distance of more than one thousand miles in less
than fifty days, with a column encumbered with women and
children, every step of the trail contested by ali the troops
:
———— ss on
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 527
of the United States Army that could be concentrated to
oppose them; a march that struck and parted like ropes of
sand the five great military barriers interposed across their
path; the first across the Kansas Pacific Railway, com-
manded by General Pope; the second along the Union
Pacific Railroad in Nebraska, commanded by General
Crook; thethird along the Niobrara, commanded by General
Bradley; the fourth, the Bear Butte (Seventh Cavalry)
column, stretched east from the Black Hills; the fifth along
the Yellowstone, commanded by General Gibbon.
But Dull Knife and his band of those less able to travel—
some one hundred and fifty — were still in the Sandhills.
He sent an urgent prayer to Red Cloud of the Sioux for
help, but the sad answer was that it was hopeless to resent
the President’s will. Ten days later the troops located the
Cheyennes.
(From this to the end is quoted from Bronson.)
In rags, nearly out of ammunition, famished and worn,
with scarcely a horse left that could raise a trot, no longer
able to fight or fly, suffering from cold and disheartened by
Red Cloud’s refusal to receive and shelter them, the splen-
did old war chief and his men were forced to bow to the
inevitable and surrender.
Later in the day Johnson succeeded in rounding up the
last of Dull Knife’s scattered command and headed north
for White River with his prisoners, one hundred and forty-
nine Cheyennes and one hundred and thirty-one captured
ponies.
The evening of the twenty-fourth, Johnson camped at
Louis Jenks’s ranch on Chadron Creek, near the present
town of Chadron, Neb.
528 The Book of Woodcraft
A heavy snowstorm had set in early in the afternoon,
and the night was so bitter and the Indians so weakened
by their campaign that Johnson felt safe to leave them free
to take the best shelter they could find in the brush along ©
the deep valley of Chadron Creek.
This leniency he was not long in regretting.
Dull Knife and his band had been feeding liberally for.
two days on troopers’ rations, and had so far recovered
strength of body and heart that when morning came on the
twenty-fifth the sentries were greeted with a feeble volley
from rifle pitsin the brush, dug by Dull Knife in the frozen
ground during the night!
And here in these pits indomitable old Dull Knife fought
stubbornly for two days more — fought and held the troops
at bay until Lieutenant Chase brought up a field gun from
Fort Robinson and shelled them to a final surrender!
Thus ended the first episode of Dull Knife’s magnificent
fight for liberty and fatherland, and yet had he had food,
ammunition, and mounts, the chances are a hundred to one
that his heroic purpose would have been accomplished, and
the entire band that left Reno, barring those killed along the
trail, would have escaped in safety to freedom in the then
wilds of the Northwest Territory.
And that, even in this apparently final surrender to
hopeless odds, Dull Knife was still not without hope of fur-
ther resistance, was proved by the fact that when he came
out of his trenches only a few comparatively old and worth-
less arms were surrendered,while it later became known that
twenty-two good rifles had been taken apart and were
swung, concealed, beneath the clothing of the squaws!
After taking a day’s rest Johnson marched his command
into Fort Robinson, arriving in the evening in a heavy
snowstorm, where the Cheyennes were imprisoned in one
of the barracks and their meagre equipment dumped in
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 529
with them, without further search for arms or ammuni-
tion. Later it was learned that that night the Indians
quietly loosened some of the flooring of the barrack and hid
their arms and ammunition beneath it, so that when a
more careful search of their belongings and persons was
made two days later, they were found to be absolutely with-
out weapons of any description.
* ¥ ee * * *
Dull Knife and his people were confined in the log bar-
rack at the southeast angle of the parade ground [at Fort
Robinson]. No doors were locked or windows barred. A
small guard patroled the barrack prison night and day.
What to do with these indomitable people puzzled the
Indian Bureau and the army.
* * * * * * *
In December a great council was held in the barrack
prison. The Sioux chiefs, Red Cloud, American Horse,
Red Dog, and No Flesh, came over from their agency to
attend it. The Government was represented by Captains
Wessells and Vroom and their juniors. The Cheyennes
were gathered in a close circle, the officers and visiting
chiefs near its centre, the bucks back of them, and farther
back still the squaws and children.
Red Cloud was the principal Sioux speaker. He said in
substance:
“Our hearts are sore for you.
“Many of our own blood are among your dead. This
has made our hearts bad.
“But what canwedo? The Great Father is all-powerful.
His people fill the whole earth. We must do what he says.
We have begged him to allow you to come to live among
530 The Book of Woodcraft
us. We hope he may let youcome. What we have we will
share with you. But, remember. what he directs, that you
must do.
“We cannot help you. The snows are thick on the hills.
Our ponies are thin. The game is scarce. You cannot
resist, nor can we. So listen to your old friend and do with-
out complaint what the Great Father tells you.”
The old Cheyenne war chief, Dull Knife, then stepped
slowly to the centre of the circle, a grim, lean figure.
Erect, despite his sixty-odd years, with a face of a classi-
cal Roman profile, with the steady, penetrating glance and
noble, commanding bearing of a great leader of men, Dull
Knife stood in his worn canvas moccasins and ragged,
threadbare blanket, the very personification of the great-
ness of heart and soul that cannot be subdued by poverty
and defeat.
Never when riding at the head of hundreds of his wild
warriors, clad in the purple of his race — leggings of golden
yellow buckskin, heavily beaded, blanket of dark blue
broadcloth, warbonnnet of eagles’ feathers that trailed
behind him on the ground, necklace of bears’ claws, the
spoils of many a deadly tussle — never in his life did Dull
Knife look more a chieftain than there in his captivity and
rags.
He first addressed the Sioux:
““We know you for our friends, whose words we may
believe. We thank you for asking us to share your lands.
We hope the Great Father will let us come to you. All we
ask is to be allowed to live, and to live in peace. I seek no
war with any one. An old man, my fighting days are done.
We bowed to the will of the Great Father and went far into
the south where he told us to go. There we found a Chey-
enne cannot live. Sickness came among us that made
mourning in every lodge. Then the treaty promises were
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 531
broken, and our rations were short. Those not worn by
disease were wasted by hunger. ‘To stay there meant that
all of us would die. Our petitions to the Great Father
were unheeded. We thought it better to die fighting to
regain our old homes than to perish of sickness. Then our
march we begun. . The rest you know.”
Then turning to Captain Wessells and his officers:
“Tell the Great Father Dull Knife and his people ask
only to end their days here in the north where they were
born. Tell him we want no more war. We cannot live in
the south; there isno game. Hete, when rations are short,
we can hunt. Tell him if he lets us stay here Dull Knife’s
people will hurt noone. Tell him if he tries to send us back
we will butcher each other with our own knives. I have
spoken.”
Captain Wessells’s reply was brief — an assurance that
Dull Knife’s words should go to the Great Father.
The Cheyennes sat silent throughout the council, all
save one, a powerful young buck named Buffalo Hump,
old Dull Knife’s son. With a thin strip of old canvas, that
served as his only covering, drawn tightly about his tall
figure, his bronze face aflame with sentiments of wrong, of
anger, and of hatred, Buffalo Hump strode rapidly from
one end to the other of the long barrack room, casting fierce
glances at the white men, the very incarnation of savage
wrath. From beginning to end of the council I momen-
tarily expected to see him leap on some member of the
party, and try to rend him with his hands. 2
Of course nothing came of the council. The War and |
Interior Departments agreed that it would be imprudent
to permit these unsubduable people to be merged into the
already restless ranks of the Sioux. It was therefore
decided to march them back south to Fort Reno, whence
they had come.
532 The Book of Woodcraft
January opened with very bitter weather. Six or eight
inches of snow covered the ground. The mercury daily
made long excursions below zero. Even the troops in
cantonment at Canby were suffering severely from the cold
— some with frozen feet and hands. It was all but impossi-
ble weather for marching.
Nevertheless, on January 5th, Captain Wessells received
orders from the War Department to immediately start Dull
Knife’s band, as quietly and peaceably as possible, and un-
der proper escort, on the march to Fort Reno, six hundred
miles away in the south! ‘This was the decision of the
Indian Bureau, and the Secretary of War was requested to
have the decision immediately enforced. Hence the order
which reached Captain Wessells.
Captain Wessells sent a guard to the barrack and had
Dull Knife, Old Crow, and Wild Hog brought into his pres-
ence at headquarters. On the arrival of the Indians a
council was held. Captain Wessells advised them of the
order of the Department that they were to return to the
Indian Territory.
Dull Knife rose to reply. His whole figure trembled with
rage; his bronze cheeks assumed a deeper red; the fires of
suppressed passion blazed through his eyes until they glit-
tered with the ferocity of an enraged beast at bay. Never-
theless, he spoke slowly and almost calmly. He did not
have much to say. He made no threats or gestures.
He said he had listened to what the Great Father had
ordered. It was the dearest wish of him and his people to
try to do what the Great Father desired, for they knew they
were helpless in his hands. But now the Great Father was
telling them to do what they could not do — to try to march
to the Indian Territory in such weather. Many would be
sure to perish on the way, and those who reached the reser-
vation would soon fall victims to the fevers that had al-
|
1
|
;
.
— ee ~
a
eS SS ee
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 533
ready brought mourning into nearly all their lodges. If,
then, the Great’ Father wished them to die — very well,
only they would die where they then were, if necessary by
their own hands. They would not return to the south, and
they would not leave their barrack prison.
Captain Wessells knew that Dull Knife’s complaint was
well founded. Still, bound by the rigid rules of the service,
he had absolutely no latitude whatever. He therefore
directed the interpreter to explain to Dull Knife that the
orders were imperative and must be obeyed, and to assure
him that the cavalry escort would do all in their power to
save the Indians from any unnecessary hardship on the
journey.
Dull Knife, however, remained firm, and his companions,
when appealed to, only growled a brief assent to Dull
Knife’s views.
“Then, Interpreter,’ said Wessells, ‘“‘tell them their
food and fuel will be stopped entirely until they conclude
to come peaceably out of their barrack, ready to march
south as ordered.” |
The three chiefs silently heard their sentence, and were
then quickly marched back to their barrack prison by a file
of soldiers.
All this occurred shortly after “guard mount” in the
morning.
Apart from its inhumanity, Wessells’s order was bad
policy. Hunger drives the most cowardly to violence.
Then, to add to the wretched plight of the Indians, they we
all but naked. No clothing had been issued to them
since their capture, and they were clad only in tattered
blankets and fragments of tent cloth. Requisitions for
clothing had been sent to the Indian Bureau, but none had
come.
Thus, half naked, without food or fires, these miserable
534 The Book of Woodcraft
people starved and shivered for five days, and nights, but
with no thought of surrender!
Captain Wessells sent the interpreter to propose that the
children be removed and fed, but this they refused; they
said they preferred to die together.
For five days and nights the barrack rang with shrill,
terrible death chants. It was clear that they had resolved
to die, and weakening fast indeed they were under the
rigors of cold and hunger, weakening in all but spirit.
The morning of the ninth of January, the fifth day of
their compulsory fast, Captain Wessells again summoned
Dull Knife, Old Crow, and Wild Hog to a council
Only the two latter came.
Suspecting violence, the Indians refused to let their old
chief leave the barrack.
Asked if they were ready to surrender, Wild Hog replied
that they would die first.
The two chiefs were then ordered seized and ironed. In
the struggle Wild Hog succeeded in seriously stabbing
Private Ferguson of Troop A, and sounded his war cry as an
alarm to his people.
Instantly pandemonium broke loose in the Indian bar-
rack.
They realized the end was at hand.
The war songs of the warriors rang loudly above the
shrill death chants of the squaws.
Windows and doors were quickly barricaded.
The floor of the barrack was torn up and rifle-pits were
dug beneath it.
Stoves and flooring were broken into convenient shapes
for use as war clubs.
The twenty-odd rifles and pistols which had been
smuggled into the barrack, by slinging them about the
waists of the squaws beneath their blankets, at the time of
—
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 535
the capture, were soon brought from their hiding place
and loaded.
They expected an immediate attack, but none came.
And all day long the garrison was kept under arms,
ready for any sortie by the Indians.
Night at last came, and, notwithstanding the terrible
warnings of the day, no extraordinary precautions were
taken. A guard of only seventeen men were under arms,
and of these only a few were on post about this barrack full
of maddened savages.
All but Captain Wessells were so certain of a desperate
outbreak that night that Lieutenant Baxter and several
other officers sat fully dressed and armed in their quarters,
awaiting the first alarm.
“Taps” sounded at nine o’clock, the barracks were soon
darkened, and the troopers retired.
Only a few lights burned in the officers’ quarters and
at the trader’s store.
The night was still and fearfully cold, the earth hid
by the snow.
Ten o’clock came, and just as the ‘‘all’s well” was pass-
ing from one sentry to another, a buck fired through a
window and killed a sentry, jumped through the window
and got the sentry’s carbine and belt, and sprang back into
the barrack. Then two or three bucks ran out of the west
door, where they quickly shot down Corporal Pulver and
Private Hulz, both of Troop A, and Private Tommeny, of
Troop E.
At doors and windows the barrack now emptied its
horde of desperate captives, maddened by injustice and wild
from hunger. Nevertheless, they acted with method and
generalship, and with heroism worthy of the noblest men
of any race.
The bucks armed with firearms were the first to leave the
536 The Book of Woodcraft
barrack. ‘These formed in line in front of the barrack and
opened fire on the guardhouse and upon the troopers as
they came pouring out of neighboring barracks. Thus
they held the garrison in check until the women and
children and the old and infirm were in full flight.
Taken completely by surprise, the troops, nevertheless,
did fearfully effective work. Captain Wessells soon had
them out, and not a few entered into the fight and pursuit
clad in nothing but their underclothing, hatless and shoe-
less.
The fugitives took the road to the sawmill crossing of
White River, only a few hundred yards distant from their
barracks, crossed the White River, and started southwest
toward my ranch, where they evidently expected to mount
themselves out of my herd of cow ponies, for they carried
with them all their lariats, saddles, and bridles to this point.
Here, pressed hopelessly close by the troops, their gallant
rear-guard melting fast before the volleys of the pursuers,
the Indians dropped their horse equipments, turned, and
recrossed White River, and headed for the high, precipitous
divide between Soldier Creek and White River, two miles
nearer their then position than the cliffs about my ranch.
They knew their only chance lay in quickly reaching hills
inaccessible to cavalry.
All history affords no record of a more heroic, forlorn
hope than this Cheyenne sortie.
Had the bucks gone alone, many would surely have es-
caped, but they resolved to He together and to protect their
women and children to the last.
Thus more than half their fighting men fell in the first half
mile of this flying fight. And as the warriors fell, their
arms were seized by the squaws and boys, who wielded them
as best they could!
In the gloom of night the soldiers could not distinguish a
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 537
squaw from a buck. Lieutenant Cummings fell into a
washout near the sawmill nearly atop of two Indians.
They attacked him with knives, but he succeeded in killing
both with his pistol — only to find that they were squaws!
The struggle was often hand-to-hand, and many of the
dead were powder-burned. For a long distance the trail
was strewn thick with bodies
A sergeant and several men were pursuing two isolated
fugitives who proved to be a buck and squaw. Suddenly
the two fugitives turned and charged their pursuers, the
buck armed with a pistol, the squaw with a piece of an iron
stove! They were shot down.
This running fight afoot continued for nearly a mile,
when the troops, many of them already badly frozen, were
hurried back to the garrison to get needed clothing and their
mounts.
[E. B. Bronson, who tells the tale, was in his ranch five
miles away that night but the sound of firing at ten
o’clock caused him to mount horse and hurry to the Fort
with a friend.]
Presently, nearing the narrow fringe of timber that lined
the stream, we could see ahead of us a broad, dark line
dividing the snow: it was the trail of pursued and pursuers
— the line of flight. Come to it, we halted.
There at our feet, grim and stark and terrible in the
moonlight, lay the dead and wounded, so thick for a long
way that one could leap from one body to another; there
they lay grim and stark, soldiers and Indians, the latter
lean and gaunt as wolves from starvation, awful with their
wounds, infinitely pathetic on this bitter night in their
ragged, half-clothed nakedness.
We started to ride across the trail, when in a fallen buck I
538 The Book of Woodcraft
happened to notice I recognized Buffalo Hump, Dull
Knife’s son.
He lay on his back, with arms extenaed and face up-
turned. In his right hand he held a small knife, a knife worn
by years and years of use from the useful proportions of a
butcher knife until the blade was no more than one quarter ©
of an inch wide at the hilt, a knife descended to domestic
use by the squaws as an awl in sewing moccasins, and yet
the only weapon this magnificent warrior could command
in this his last fight for freedom!
As I sat on my horse looking down at Buffalo Hump,
believing him dead, the picture rose in my mind of the
council in which he had stalked from end to end of the
barrack, burning with an anger and hatred which threat-
ened even then and there to break out into violence, when —
suddenly he rose to a sitting position and aimed a fierce
blow at my leg with hisknife. Instinctively, as he rose, I —
spurred my horse out of his reach and jerked my pistol,
but before I could use it he fell back and lay still — dead. —
So died Buffalo Hump, a warrior capable, with half a
chance, of making martial history worthy even of his
doughty old father.
* * * * * * *
Immediately on hearing the fire, Vroom, at Camp Canby,
had thrown two troops in skirmish order across the valley to —
prevent escape to the east, and hurried into Robinson him-
self at the head of a third troop.
Already mounted, Vroom was the first to overtake and
re-engage the flying Cheyennes, whose knowledge of the
geography of the country proved remarkable. They had
selected a high bluff two miles west of the post as their
means of escape, its summit inaccessible to horsemen for
more than six miles from the point of their ascent.
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 539
Almost daily for months had I ridden beneath this bluff
and would readily have sworn not even a mountain goat
could ascend to its summit; but, hidden away in an angle of
the cliff lay a slope accessible to footmen, and this the
Indians knew and sought.
Just below this slope Vroom brought the rear guard to
bay, and a brief, desperate engagement was fought. The
Indians succeeded in holding the troops in check until all
but those fallen under the fire of Vroom’s command were
able to reach the summit.
Here on this slope, fighting in the front ranks of the rear
guard, the ‘‘ Princess,” Dull Knife’s youngest daughter, was
killed!
Further pursuit until daylight being impossible, the
troopers were marched back into the garrison.
By daylight the hospital was filled with wounded Indians,
and thirty-odd dead — bucks, squaws, and children — lay
in a row by the roadside near the sawmill, and there later
they were buried in a common trench.
At dawn of the tenth, Captain Wessells led out four troops
of cavalry, and, after a couple of hours’ scouting, found that
the Indians had followed for ten miles the summit of the
high divide between White River and Soldier Creek, travel-
ing straight away westward, and then had descended to the
narrow valley of Soldier Creek, up which the trail lay plain
to follow through the snow as a beaten road.
Along this trail Captain Vroom led the column at the
head of his troop. Next behind him rode Lieut. George A.
Dodd, then a youngster not long out of West Point, and
later for many years recognized as the crack cavalry
captain of the army. Next behind Dodd I rode.
Ahead of the column a hundred yards rode Woman’s
Dress, a Sioux scout.
For seventeen miles from the post the trail showed that
540 The Book of Woodcraft
the fugitives had made no halt! A marvelous march on
such a bitter night for a lot of men, women, and children
many of them wounded, all half clad and practically starved
for five days!
Presently the trail wound round the foot of a high, steep
hill, the crest of which was covered with fallen timber, a
hill so steep the column was broken into single file to pass
it. Here the trail could be seen winding on through the
snow over another hill a half mile ahead.
Thus an ambush was the last thing expected, but, after
passing the crest of the second hill, the Indians had madea _
wide detour to the north, gained the fallen timber on the
crest of this first hill, and had there entrenched themselves.
So it happened that at the moment the head of Vroom’s
column came immediately beneath their entrenchment, the —
Cheyennes opened fire at short range, emptied two or three
saddles, and naturally and rightly enough stampeded the
leading troop into the brush ahead of and back of the hill,
for it was no place to stand and make a fight.
* * o* * * * *
Nothing remained but to make a run for the brush, and a
good run he made of it, but, encumbered with a buffalo
overcoat and labouring through the heavy snow, he soon got
winded and dropped a moment for rest behind the futile
shelter of a sage bush.
Meantime, the troopers had reached the timber, dis-
mounted, taken positions behind trees, and were pouring into
the Indian stronghold a fire so heavy that Dodd was soon
able to make another run and escape to the timber unscathed.
* * * * * * *
The Indian stronghold on the hilltop was soon sur-
rounded and held under a desultory long-range fire all day,
as the position was one impregnable to a charge.
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 541
No packs or rations having been brought, at nightfall
Captain Wessells built decoy campfires about the Indians’
position and marched the command back into the garrison.
* * * * * * *
He told me Lieutenant Baxter, with a detachment of ten
men, had located, on the slope of a bluff a mile east of the
Deadman Ranch, a camp of Indians which he believed
represented a large band of hostiles still loose.
Pointing to a spur of the bluffs, three or four hundred feet
high, standing well out into the valley a scant mile east of
my ranch, the trooper hurried on in to the garrison for
reinforcements, and I spurred away for the bluff, and
soon could see a line of dismounted troopers strung along
the crest of the ridge.
As I rode up to the foot of the bluff, skirmish firing began
on top of the ridge.
After running my horse as far up the hill as its precipi-
tous nature would permit, I started afoot climbing for the
crest, but, finding it inaccessible at that point, started
around the face of the bluff to the east to find a practicable
line of ascent, when suddenly I was startled to hear the
ominous, shrill buzz of rifle balls just above my head, from
the skirmish line on the crest of the ridge — startled, indeed,
for I had supposed the Indians to be on the crest of the bluff,
farther to the south.
Dropping behind a tree and looking downhill, I saw a
faint curl of smoke rising from a little washout one hundred
yards below me, and, crouched beside the smouldering fire
in the washout, a lone Indian.
This warrior’s fight and death was characteristic of the
magnificent spirit which had inspired the band, from the
beginning of the campaign at Fort Reno.
In mid-afternoon, scouting to the south of the garrison
542 The Book of Woodcraft
for trails, Lieutenant Baxter had discovered this campfire,
and, quite naturally assuming that none but a consider-
able band of the Indians would venture upon building a
campfire so near to the garrison, had immediately sent a
trooper courier into the garrison with advice of his dis-
covery.
Then he dismounted his command and approached the
campfire in open skirmish order, until it was plain to be
seen that the fire was deserted. The trail of a single Indian
led into the washout, and imprints in the snow showed where
he had sat, evidently for some hours, beside the fire. But
of the washout’s fugitive tenant no trace could be found,
no trail showing his route of departure. In one direction
along a sharp ridge leading toward the hogback’s crest,
the snow was blown away, the ground bare, and this
seemed to be his natural line of flight from Baxter’s
detachment.
After what all believed a thorough search of the vicinity
of the fire, Lieutenant Baxter left Corporal Everett and a
trooper near the fire, and, remounting, led the balance of
his men up the slope with the view to cut the Cheyenne’s
trail wheresoever it might again enter the snow.
Baxter was gone barely ten minutes when he was startled
by two rifle shots in his rear, from the vicinity of the fire!
Looking back, he saw his two troopers prostrate in the
snow, and later learned that Everett and his mate, while
stamping about to keep warm, had approached a little
shallow washout within thirty yards of the fire that all
vowed they had looked into, and suddenly had discovered
the Indian lying at its bottom, wrapped in a length of dirty
old canvas the precise color of the gray clay soil which
doubtless had served to conceal him through the earlier
search. The moment the Indian made sure he was dis-
covered, he cast open his canvas wrap and fired twice with
———
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 543
a carbine, shooting Corporal Everett through the stomach
and killing him almost instantly, and seriously wounding
his mate.
Thus rudely taught that humanity was useless, and that
it must be a fight to the death, observing “‘ Papa”? Lawson
approaching from the fort at the head of his troop, Baxter
swung his own men up and along the top of the ridge, where
they could better command the old Cheyenne’s position,
and opened on him a heavy fire — and it was just at this
juncture I arrived.
Immediately after I first sighted the Indian, “ Papa”’
Lawson swung around the foot of the hill with his troop,
dismounted, and charged up on foot — thus making sixty
men concentrated upon one!
The old Cheyenne kept up his rapid fire as long as he
could. Toward the last I plainly saw him fire his carbine
three times with his left hand, resting the barrel along the
edge of the washout, while his right hand hung helpless
beside him.
Suddenly I saw him drop down in the bottom of the wash-
out, limp as an empty sack.
When we came up to him it appeared that while the shot
that killed him had entered the top of his head, he neverthe-
less earlier in the engagement had been hit four times —
once through the right shoulder, once through the left
cheek, once in the right side, and a fourth ball toward the
last had completely shattered his right wrist.
It was apparent that he had been making a desperate
break to reach my horses, which usually ran in the very
next canyon to the west, for he still carried with him a lariat
and bridle; but his unprotected feet had been so badly
frozen during the night that he had become entirely unable
to travel farther, and, realizing himself to be utterly help-
less, in sheer desperation had built a fire to get what poor,
544 The Book of Woodcraft
miserable comfort he could for the few minutes‘or hours
remaining to him!
A curious incident here followed.
An ambulance had come with Lawson’s troop to the field,
in which the body of Everett and his wounded mate were
placed, while the body of the dead Cheyenne was thrown
into the boot at the back of the conveyance. Upon ar-
rival in the garrison, Lieutenant Baxter discovered that the
body of the Indian had been lost out of the boot on the short
four-mile journey into Robinson, and sent back a sergeant
and detail of men to recover it. But the most careful
search along the trail failed to reveal any trace of the body,
and whatever became of it to this day remains a mystery.
On the night of the tenth, fifty-two Indians had been
captured, approximately half of them more or less badly
wounded, and thirty-seven were known to have been killed,
leaving a total of sixty unaccounted for.
Still without food, on the morning of the eleventh, the
seventh day of their fast, and unable to march farther, Cap-
tain Wessells’s column found the fugitives occupying a strong
position in the thick timber along Soldier Creek at the foot
of the hill upon which they had been entrenched the day
before, better sheltered from the severity of the weather.
Again long-range firing was the order of the day, for a
charge would have incurred needless hazard.
During this day the Indians succeeded in killing a troop
horse on an exposed hillside within three or four hundred
yards of their position. The rider narrowly escaped with
his life.
The ground where the horse fell was so openly exposed,
the carcass had to be left where it had fallen, and that
night, after Captain Wessells had again marched his com-
mand back to the garrison, the carcass furnished the first
food these poor wretches had eaten for seven days!
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 545
That their hearts were firm as ever and that all they
needed was a little physical strength the next few days
effectually proved.
The twelfth they lay eating and resting, and when on the
thirteenth, Wessells’s column returned to the attack, the
Indians were found six miles farther to the west, well
entrenched on the Hat Creek Bluffs, and there again
an ambush was encountered in which two troopers were
wounded.
On this day a twelve-pound Napoleon gun was brought
into action, and forty rounds of shell were thrown into the
Indians’ position, without dislodging them.
The same day Captain Wessells and Lieutenants Craw-
ford and Hardie crept near the rifle-pits with an inter-
preter and called to the Cheyennes to bring out their women
and children, promising them shelter and protection. A
feeble volley was the only reply!
Realizing the Indians had now reached a cattle country
in which they could kill meat and subsist themselves, Cap-
tain Wessells had brought out a pack-train, with blankets
and rations, to enable him to surround the Indians’ posi-
tion at night, and, should they slip away, to camp on their
trail.
This night they were surrounded, but at dawn on the
fourteenth, Lieutenant Crawford discovered the wily enemy
had again slipped through the picket lines, headed south-
westward along the high bluffs which lined the southern
edge of Hat Creek Basin.
For six days more the same tactics on both sides pre-
vailed; the Indians were daily followed in running fight, or
brought to bay in strong positions practically impregnable
of direct attack, surrounded at nightfall, only to glide away
like veritable shadows during the night, and of course more
or less were killed in these daily engagements.
546 The Book of Woodcraft
On the twentieth, Captain Wessells’s command was joined
by Lieutenant Dodd and a large band of Sioux scouts.
Tuesday, the twenty-first (January, 1879), saw the finish.
At a point on the Hat Creek Bluffs, near the head of War
Bonnet Creek, forty-four miles a little to the south of west
of Fort Robinson, the Cheyennes lay at bay in their last
entrenchment, worn out with travel and fighting, and with
scarcely any ammunition left.
They were in a washout about fifty feet long, twelve feet
wide, and five feet deep; near the edge of the bluffs.
Skirmishers were thrown out beneath them on the slope
of the bluff to prevent their escape in that direction, and
then Captain Wessells advanced on the washout, with his
men formed in open skirmish order.
A summons through the interpreter to surrender was
answered by a few scattering shots from the washout.
Converging on the washout in this charge, the troopers
soon were advancing in such a dense body that nothing
saved them from terrible slaughter but the exhaustion of the
Cheyennes’ ammunition.
Charging to the edge of the pit, the troopers emptied their
carbines into it, sprang back to reload, and then came on
again, while above the crash of the rifles arose the hoarse
death chants of the expiring band.
The last three warriors alive — and God knows they de-
serve the name of warriors if ever men deserved it — sprang
out of their defences, one armed with an empty pistol and
two with knives, and madly charged the troops!
Three men charged three hundred!
They fell, shot to pieces like men fallen under platoon fire.
And then the fight was over.
The little washout was a shambles, whence the troops
removed twenty-two dead and nine living, and of the living
all but two (women) were badly wounded!
Campfire Stories of Indian Character 547
These were all that remained out of the sixty unaccounted
for after the fighting near Fort Robinson, excepting five
or six bucks, among them Chief Dull Knife, who had been
cut off from the main band in the first night’s fight and had
escaped to the Sioux.
And among the Ogallala Sioux thereafter, till he died,
dwelt Dull Knife, grim and silent as Sphinx or dumb man;
brooding his wrongs; cursing the fate that had denied him
the privilege to die fighting with his people; sitting alone
daily for hours on the crest of a Wounded Knee bluff rising
near his teepee, and gazing longingly across the wide
reaches of the Bad Lands to a faint blue line, on the north-
western horizon, that marked his old highland home in the
Black Hills.
548 The Book of Woodcraft
The Message of the Indian
The message of the Indian for us is sixfold:
ist. He was the great prophet of outdoor life. He was
strong when he lived in the sun; and when, under pressure,
he took to a house, he was like Samson shorn of his hair.
By the physical perfection of his body, he showed the truth
of his way. He was a living protest against house-life.
He, above all others, can show us how to get the joys, and
escape the dangers, of life in the open air.
and. He was a master of woodcraft — woodcraft, the
oldest of all the sciences; the one, that, above all, makes for
manhood. Strength, speed, skill, courage, knowledge of the
woods and its creatures, star-wisdom, water-wisdom, plant
lore, and everything that makes for the well-built man in
masterful touch with a large environment of blue air, is part
of woodcraft. And in this above all other men, the Indian
can be our guide.
3rd. He taught the sacred duty of reverencing, beautite
ing and perfecting the body.
4th. He sought for the beautiful in everything. He
teaches us that, if we have the spirit of beauty within, we
may beautify everything in every office and walk of our
lives. Every weapon, tool, utensil, garment and house;
yes, every gesture — he has taught us how to make beau-
tiful. His songs, stories, dances, ceremonies, his system of
a Eee eee
,
:
The Message of the Indian 549
etiquette and courtesy, were expressions in his daily life
that proved his mind; and in the making of beautiful tents,
blankets, baskets and canoes, he has easily led the world.
These things were mere expressions of his broad creed that
the Great Spirit is in everything, everywhere, all the time.
5th. He solved one great economic problem that vexes us
to-day. By his life and tribal constitution, he has shown
us that the nationalization of all natural resources and
national interests puts a stop at once equally to abject
poverty and to monstrous wealth.
6th. He was the world’s great historic protest against
avarice. Under various euphonious names we encour-
age greed as a safeguard against destitution. He
showed that it has no bearing on the case and that it
unavoidably ends in measureless crime:
That seems to be the sixfold message of the Indian; but
there is also a thought that will not down, as one reads these
chronicles of a trampled race.
The law of this land gives every one the right to think and
decide for himself, so long as he does not infringe on the
rights of others. No man may compel the conscience of
another, except that other be a soldier or a marine. When a
man joins army or navy, he must leave his conscience be-
hind. Thatisthelaw. Why? Because those in the high
place of authority know so well that the soldier or sailor,
going to the front and seeing with his own eyes the abomi-
nations and human tortures that warfare really means,
would be so horror-stricken that he would recoil as from a
very hell. He would refuse to be a party to such unspeak-
able atrocities, and so army and navy, yes, the whole sys-
tem back of it, would crumble.
No, sir, discipline must be maintained. The soldier and
sailor must leave his conscience at home and do as he is
550 The Book of Woodcraft
told, stifling the voice within that tells him he is espousing
the cause of Jezebel, Herod and Moloch, and pledging his
manhood to the service of hell.
When General Crook set off in deep winter to hound the
Dakota patriots to their death, and to slaughter their
women and babies, he admitted, as we have seen, that
it was a hard campaign to go on. “But,” he added,
“the hardest thing is to go and fight those whom we
know are right.”
Then why did he go?
If Crook had been ordered by the War Department to
nail the Saviour to the Cross, I suppose he would have done
it, and wept as he obeyed; or, under orders of Herod, he
would have slaughtered the babes of Bethlehem as expedi-
tiously as his broken heart would have allowed. The
British general who led his troops against China, probably
all against his better judgment, and there, by force and
bloodshed, established the diabolical opium traffic, obeyed
his government, indeed, and gained some money for his
country’s merchants. But he made an awful day of
reckoning for himself and for his race.
When the French army decided that it was wise to
sacrifice innocent Dreyfus for the cause of patriotism, they
set the army above justice and their country in a higher
place than God. And thus struck France a blow from
which she never yet has recovered — we cannot tell —
maybe a death-blow.
Most men agree with the Indian that courage is one of
the greatest, if not the greatest, of virtues. How many of
them dare live up to this belief? To most men, in some
measure, there comes a time when they must decide between
their duty to country and their duty to God. How many
dare take the one course that they know to be right? Are
there no times when man’s allegiance to high principle must
The Message of the Indian Ber
override his allegiance to constituted authority? No?
Then, how do you justify 1776? And the martyrs, from
Socrates, seditious preacher of the truth, right down to men
of our own times; were they all wrong? All set their God
above their country’s laws, and suffered cruel, shameful
deaths.
If they did not teach us by their lives and deaths that
justice and truth are above every consideration of one’s
country and its laws, then Socrates, St. Peter, St. Stephen,
St. Paul, St. John, Becket, Huss, Coligny, Latimer, Ridley,
Cranmer — yes, the Lord Himself — all lived and died in
vain.
THE END
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Abies balsamea . .
Acer rubrum .
Acer saccharinum
Acer saccharum .
ae campestris .
Ague T: Fee...
ace “hae dius. )
Alder (Illus. :)
Alligator Tree.
Alphabet, Manual (Illus. ).
Amanita, Big-veiled .
‘Amanita Caesarea
Amanita excelsa .
Amanita, Fly (Illus. ys
Amanita frostiana
Amanita Frosts
Amanita, Hated
Amanita saree
Amanita, Napkin
Amanita ’ phalloides (illus. ).
Amanita spreta ,
Amanita, Spring. . .
Amanita Toadstools
Amanita, Virulent
Anas platyr. s icaee (Illus. i
Anchor Bend Knot (lIllus.)
Animal Story Books.
Animal Taxidermy .
Animals, To Trap (Illus. ee,
Antiseptic or Wound Wash
Antsas Food . . 3
Apache Heroism.
Apache Indian’s Case
Apache Relay Race. .
Aquila ges (Illus.)
Arbor-vite (Illus.) . .
Archery (Illus.) .
INDEX
ems 00s
.
- 394,
Archery, ‘Arrows Showing Different
Feathering (Illus.)
Arche Holding at Drawing Bow
us. ;
hettiecy Pk :
480,
a Method of Stringing 1 Bow
Ce ae
EN Pe
Ardea herodias .
Arriving on Camp Ground .
Arrow Fight Game
Arrow oar ag Different Feathering
lus.)
Arrow-wood .
Artisan, The Indian as an .
ArtoftheIndian .. .
Ash Black, (Illus.)
Ash, Hoop 4
Ash, Water . »
Ash, White (Iilus.) :
Aspen Poplar
Assessment for Taking Part in ‘Camp. 72
Assistant Chief in Charge .
Athlete Degree ‘
Athletics, General
Athletic Records
Athletic Specialties for Honors.
Atkinson, G. F
Atrocities of the Government .
Avarice Unknown to Indian
Awashonks, the Woman bari
Axeman Honors .
Badges, Degree (Illus.) .
Badges of Rank (Illus.) .
Badger Pulling Game- i
Bailey, Florence Merriam .
Bait-casting Honors ony he
Baker, Brevet Col. E.M .
Baker’s Massacre ;
Bald Eagle (Illus.)
Balm for Wounds
Balm of Gilead
Balsam Poplar
Balsam Tree .
Band, The . SWokl Ve
Band, Laws of ie ots.
Band or Clan, The .
Banner Standards. P
Bark and Buds as Food
Baseball Batting Honors
Baseball Batting Record
Baseball Throwing Honors
Baseball Throwing Record .
Basket Making Honors
Basswood ,
Bates, Dr. W. H.
Bath, Indian .
Bathing Honors .
Batrachians for Honors»
Batting Baseball Honors
Batting Baseball Record
Bear Claw Necklace (Illus.)
Bear Hunt. Be at
Bear’s Head, Chet
Becket Hitch
Bed, Indian or Willow (illus ys
Beds (Iilus.)
Bee-line Honors . al) be
Beech (Illus.) . A ee
Beech, Blue (Illus.) . nae
117, 118
75, 76
208
352
II4
15
A i PS
- 334, 335
554
Beetle-wood . . .
Begin, Howto . . :
Bellatrix (ss) tees
Betelgeuse
Betula lutea
Betula papyrifera
Betula populifolia
Bicycle Honors
Bicycle Record
Big Game Hunting. .
Big Game Listed for Honors
Big Lodge ies
Big Lodge Degrees .
Big Thunder, Penobscot Chief
Big Thunder’s Arrow v Grip (lus. )
Bilsted .
Binder Knot .
Birch, Aspen-leaved
Birch-bark Baskets .
Birch-bark Boxes
Birch, Canoe
Birch Canoe Making Honors .
Birch, Sie (Illus.)
Birch, P. Se
Birch, ite (Illus.)
Birch, Yellow (Illus.)
Bird Books Recommended .
Bird Boxes or Houses (Illus.) 4
Bird Dance Song
Bird Skin, Making a (Illus. )
Bird Stuffing (Illus.) .
Birds, Common. . .
Birds for Honors. . . -
Bittern (Illus.) . tile
Black Cherry (Illus.) Oa te
Black$Dyeni Ail crt. e
Black Hawicie mire acu ae
BlackBaintyro) vem acmatc ee
Black Vulture .
Blackbird, Crow (Illus.)
Blackfeet .
Blackfoot Chief White Calf
Blackwall Hitch
Blanchan, Neltje
Blazes and Indian Signs (Illus. )
Blazes and Signs, Honors
Blazes of Hunters and Surveyors
(Illus.) .
Bleeding, Internal
Bleeding, To Stop
Blitum or Mis-caw-wa .
Bluebird (Illus.)
Blue Buffalo . 5
Blue Herons... .
Blue Honors .
ees. (Illus.) .
Blue Paint
“Blue Sky,” "The Watchword .
Boat Builder Honors
Boat Building (Illus.)
Bobolink or Roe (illus. ;
Bodarc
Bois d’Arc .
Boletus Mushrooms —
Bonasa umbellus .
Bonfire. Ate
Bonneville, Captain | cKune
Index
423, 424
ea 24.
424
424
352
187
150
353
352
Bonneville, on Indian Nobleness . . 54
Books and Articles on Tracks. . . 390
Bodtes_. 204
Bootes Hunting the Great Bear (Illus. ) 205
Botaurus lengliginosus . . 5 341
Bourke, Capt. J. G. :
On Indian Nobleness . . . . 52
On U.\S. Govt. Shame!) :) 25922 eae
Bow and Arrow-making Honor 3) se eee
Bow and Arrows (Illus.) . 480
Bow Holding and Drawing (lus. ) afo-48r
Bow, How to unats a-. Bay 479
Bow-wood . + oie edie
Bowel Complaint 5 + 309
‘Bowel''Tonic.. = ye) oes + 300
Bowline Knot 2 184
Box Elder, . .
Boys in Catskills
Bubo virginianus 3
Buffalo Chips Game.
Buffalo Hunters. .
Building a Boat (Illus.).
Bull-fighter in the Sky
Burnsand Scalds ...
Burroughs, John x iota
Buteo Borealis ay eke
Butterflies for Honors
Butternut. 5
Butternut, Fruit ‘of (Illus. ) 4
Buttonball or Buttonwood Cie ) ed e436
439
. a: al re) Seve se.
Wen 8) Site. “genet
Cu ye pal Wee a) Ce RC ie ey
Oe 66 Nea ee OP Oe pe) em ey Bye.
8,
Buttons, Scout ae vee ae “wa eae
Buzzard (lus) 32% - 330, 337
Branta canadensis . . . 4 340
Brave, Initiation ofa . .
‘Brave, Vow ik /\: s2yerciane
Brave, Young. C
Bravery of the Indian
Brinton, on Indian Physique
Ce! Sek WATE Lert oes teat Peay en
aN
,2)
Bronson, E. B. Tulle 524
Broom, Camp (Illus. ) oA 223
Brown, Major cue 516
Brunner, Joseph . 390
Cabin Building Honors . 0 ie ke
Calkins, F. W. o/s Sache etre
Call of the Tribe. | | deh ene
Calvatia cranliformis. . . . . « 406
Calvatia cyathiformis . . . . « 407
Calvatia gigantea - 406
Camp Assessment for Taking ‘Part in 72
Camp Broom (Illus.) . MCHC roe
Camp Circle of the Gods | ay tark SAR eZ
Camp Conjurer Degree 451) aC
Camp Cook Degree . a: MS AMge bat
Camp Cookery sage 276
Camp Craftsman Degree Sera pecan
Camp Doctor Degree oil Rok pete sea
Camp Government . 3 PGs
Camp Ground o. Sie peas
Camp Ground, Arriving ab fale oa RGR
Camp Horn . is ‘ 226
Camp Kitchen (Ilus. Dae ‘ 273
Camp Lantern (Illus.) . ¥ 217, 218
Camp L :
Life oR
Camp Life, The Ideal . 7
Camp Loom and Grass Mats (Illus.) 219
Campercraft ...) 3) 3 Cee nee
Campercraft and raiciawresi era
Camper Degree . és a
Camper Honors .
Campfire Club...
Campfire, Magic of the
Campfire Stories :
Campfires (Illus.)
Camp Officers . .
Camp Rake (lIllus.) .
Camp Roaster (Illus.)
Camp Routine .
Camp Routine Suggested
Camp Summer Z
Camping Out
Camping Outfit for One Brave’
Camping Outfit for Six .
Canada Balsam. .
Canadian Government Honorable with
Indians . = Pe loa
Canis Major .
Canis Minor . i
Canoe-camper Honors .
Canoe, Dugout
Canoe Tag .
Canoe Wood .
Canoeing Honors
Canoeman Degree
Caribou Dance
Carpinus caroliniana
Carrick Bend Knot .
Carrion Crow.
Carver, Jonathan
On Indian Bravery
On Indian Kindness .
On Indian Providence
On Indian Self-Control .
On Indian Truthfulness .
On Sioux Chastity
On Sioux Hospitality
Cassiopeia (Illus.)
Castanea dentata .
Catbird (Illus.) .
Cathartes aura
Catlin, George :
On Indian Bathing
On Indian Kindness .
On Indian Honesty
On Indian Hospitality
On Indian Nobleness byt
On Indian Respect for Parents .
On Indian el ;
On Kanakuk . .
On Madam Chastity .
On Sweat Lodge
Cat Tracts (Illus.)
Cause of Indian Wars
Cedar, White.
Cercis canadensis. .
Ceremony of Naming the Brave
Cetraria Icelandica (Illus.) .
Changes of the Law s
Chapman, Frank M. .
Character, Summary of Indian
Charges Against the Indian
Chastity of Indians .
Cherry, Black (Illus.)
Chestnut (Illus.)
Its,
Index
107
Iz0
102
105
4
485
271
263
222
Cheyennes, How Corrupted . . . 48
Cheyennes’ Last Fight . ES ah er ad
Cheyennes\Merciful .°. . . . 33
Chicadee (Illus.) 350
Chicken Fight Game, One Legged 207
Chicken Squawk . . 180
ChichvBandy SALah ih. s rhs like We a RE
Chief Bear’s Head . eM RS!
Chief Capilano of the Squamish 490
Chief Dull Knife’s Band 6 Wee
Chief, Head . . CLP aiohy eth veal AD
Chief, Head, Vow ee oe etal, BALE 71
Chief Hinmaton-Kalatkit . 504
Chief in Charge . . S. iva, 264
Chief Joseph, of Nez Perces IO, 55, 504
Chief of the Painted Robe or Feather
Tally eke 71
Chief Red Cloud. Sat ik ea os kias anes
Gime Seconda is sl sao dol abn 7°
Chief, rd yesh Sh) (gt Pe ae eo
Chief, Wampum Sh abe Tout oyeltecaah bem ges
Chills and Fever Sherk itel ate See SOO
Chin the-Bar Honors . . . . . ‘98
Chin the Bar Record 98
Chinese Writing . coh LEA ey Mile
Chivington Massacre Calle Sot eh Mic ena
Chuntz, Apache Chief . 516
Cinders or Sand in Eye 308
Citronella. 271
Claiming Coups, Indians fare eh 450
Clarks Capt iWeb es Weis te ibs ae
On Indian Kindness . Sees BO
On: Sweatikodge) 59). oe oe 26
Clavaria dichoioma ‘ 3 401
Clavaria Moose Horn (Illus. he 405
Clavaria, Red Tipped hE i oF eh ee 408
Clavaria, White . . - 40T, 404
Clean Fatherhood sue a) 400)
Cleanliness . See koe) deh
Cleanliness of the Indian . . . . 19
Clitocybe, Deceiving (Illus.) 3909, 400
Clitocybe tlludens (Illus.) 399, 400
Clock, Indian Di) soiet ane
Clove Hitch . 185
Club, Straw (Illus.) . 286
Cock-fighting Game 207
Code, Railway 253
Colaptes auratus . 343
Cold, a Danger When Lost 324
Cold or Fever Cure. . 309
Colinus virginianus . 342
Columbus, on Indian Kindness 34
Common Bir s : 334
Compass, Home-made 216
Competitive Principle i in Education . 6
Conscience o a Soldier . 3
Consumption Cured by Outdoor Life 3
Conway, Sir Martin . Cy tg
Cooking Honors. . . : IIo
Coon Game Sg ue me ee
Coona Song . : etatadine 150
Coprinus atramentarius . ioe 4493
Coprinus, Inky (Il'us.) 403
Coprinus. Mushrooms 403
Cord-pull Signals 254
Coronado and the Indian | : ; 50
Costume, Indian (Illus.)
556 Index
Costumes) Bes ye wine tiha. tate acne bac nyS Wise Woodman . ... . «+ 140
Cottonwood tea a eer eM dg AES White Woodcraftsman . . . . 139
Cough Remedy . . . «) « « 300). Degrees'in. Woodcraft’ 3 <<) ots
Cough and Lung Remedy ia lealay Ulberrees: gar Lodge . Pa 2
Cough and Irritated Throat . . . 312 Dellenbaugh, F S., on Indian Treat-
GouncilPirel@llusiy ee) 2 su leben: ment of Women. jg ea
Council Fire Circle . . . . . . 266 Destroying Angel Toadstools . . . 304
Council,the Great . . . . . . 64 ~ °& Details of the Warbonnet (Illus.) 462, 463
Council, High . We pt Uke) 64 Diamond’ Hitch Honors. 2 yes ee eee
Council of the Tribe. <) «Yo. ' Diamond’ Necklace! < 1; 2) ue aor
Council, Order of Doings i ing) “eee 79 ~=—r Dictionary of the Sign Language. oo ke 238
Councils Secrets'of G7 eee are Dipper « a aea
Councils, 7 Se Beckie lets) Discus Honors F Payer 9.) 0
Councils of the Tribe . . . . . 70 ~=©Discus Record +) Je oe
GCouncils;"Specialyyie gi. eo gor, Disease “the Child of Dirt « Ree tly Le:
Coup eieiie tite), lal sta OS 104s NONDUECY: Bai en a 180
Coups, Claiming By hs nee AS Oy i TOreLIce = 312
Courage OT Se nOze Aes: Dodge, Col. R. I. on Causes of Indian
Courtesy of the Indians. eo 41 Wars pie. 7/t 46
Crane, Blue (Illus.) erytiei ts 341, 342 On Cheyenne Chastity mar eS
Creed, The dndiansveee i... It Dog and Cat Tracks (lus. ) 3 ogre
Crook, Gen. George eee xc ” 516, 550 Dog Dance 3 é (i Sb eaOS)
Crow Common mana. te uaa een oss Dog Soldiers. . 3a ear
Curtis, DriGiCoiien wens) os. bere eseoe | -Dogubracks (Illus. ee oe demesee
Customs of the Indian. . . . I1I-59 Dogwood, Flowering (Ulus. ) a Oee 311
Cuts‘and Wounds’ =) =. 3: 307 Doings in Council, Orderof . . . 79 i
Cyanoctiia cristiia ee 8 on B45 Doings, Secret 5 °., 0: See
Cygnus . AEN ee ect) et tam Rom NZS Dolichonyx oryzivorus . a B45 "
Cypress, Baldouer eer oben rare 415 Dorsey, Prof. J.O., on Indian Gal- y 4
Ntye eis Sete Ppa )
Darling, Lou S. aye Aro: On Omaha Cleanliness . . . . 26 :
Dam, Making a (Illus. y) 2S ee ets Dove (illuss)). 343, 344 |
Dancing Honors . eth eo py DDE Drake, Sam Ge on Indian Game Con-
Deadly Amanita Toadstools . . . 304 servation . . aha, SS
iDeathiSongiin elas Le eretueen sro) Drinks . <.: nil tea
Deathcup cay wee ve cae ay | SOF Drowning, To Revivefrom . .. 305
Deathcup; Toadstool’ ~: . < . % 304) Drum, Indian (illus.) 0 eee
Decorations for Degrees . . . . 93 Dry Socks) |...) . ) 6) 229i
Deer, Burlap (illus) 2 3) 26) 9283 Dryobates pebencons «aves oh, BAS
DeerEiunt (Tus MS wee) -c. nn eh 28S Duck, Mallard (Illus.) . . . * 338, 340
Deer Tracks (Illus.) A eet} Duck, Summer (Illus.) . 339, 340
Deer, Wooden Legged (ius. ‘ . . 284 Duck, Wood or Summer (Illus. ) 339, 340
Degree, Athlete . eh yo) he ey ee Dues and Initiation Fee . . . . 72
Degree Badges (Illus. ). . . . 227,119 #Dugmore, A. Radclyffe . . 116, 352
Degrees Dugout Canoe .. . oy Ween ken Mae
CampiConjuren, iy fies, oe a P20), ulliknife « lt) FO; 2QN55
Camp Crattsmanys ji i. an Rebar Dull Knife in Barracks. . . . 529
GampiCookyia ea teu) sve) es, eer Dull Knife’s Band © 3 2) ja) eae
CampyDoctopeaayeiiis ss ) shen tee Dumb-bell Honors . . . «© «~ 99, 10%
Camper). 0-0. OS. 3) ol 4 ae) Dumb-bell ‘Record! :.9/). 7). ane eeOO en
@anoemaniy pay cc ch ay ol el eed Dumetella carolinensis . . « « « 349
Wisherman'\:. ey peut one be. Tem bat aS Dyes, Indian Meee lie
ROresteri a beembeiey se! sale tel eg 20
Frontier Scout es bs ys) a a k2ouy bagle . AERP So eS
Gleeman . PP. ss eee eOanmagle Feathers ... 4 a. eee 93
Herald or Grice evn) ee 129 Earth, The . oh)? oo eee ee
FIOTSEMAN st een oui eee en pin ESO Eastman, Dr. Chas A. Pee is ce
TUN Cer SA are ee eh bart ks Mog STE On Indian Devotion | ob eit oi tone
Mountaineer . Be a Ke tied ge On Indian Humor «:” vie) he Mat
Pathfinder or Scout . . . . . 133 On Indian Physique. . . . . 50
ScoutiorPathinders, | i) =) 1ts3 On Indian Providence: +t) 3) 9.0 sree
Scout Ronnen ee een fle) ered! On Indian Use of Tobacco . . . 49
Sharpshooter 4; etic. lie). oie) e kB Election Day PR or
Star’Wiseman:{! cviieo i. fe) 3) 8) Tg60 Dlectionio£ Rulers, Time of!) cuene 71
WIMMER eh uh ete eu, ve 137 Elder (Illus.) arate Piper) ois:
ravelery ss, sms aate 137 Elm, Moose or Red. . Sete 431
Village Scout . EONS 138 Elm, Slippery (Illus.) .
3
z
wo
Elm, Water or pan
Elm, White: Ulus.) .
Endurance, ladian .
English Names ..
Entolomas, Fringed .
Ericsson, Leif Ws
Etiquette of Teepee 4
Evening Sta
Eye, Cinders or Sand in
Eyes,Keen . . .
Eyesight . . . .
Face-ache .
Fagus grandifolia
Fainting .
False Reef or Granny Knot
Far Sight . é
Far Sight Game (Illus. yy:
Fear, Danger When Lost
Feather Blox Game
Feather Dance .
Feather Football Game
Feather Tally
Ferns for Honors .
Were. 6) 6!
Fire in Teepee
Fire with Rubbing-sticks (illus. ).
Firearms .
Fireside Trick with Fingers
Fire-water, Abstinence from
First Aid oe rae
Fish for Honors . .
Fisherman Degree
Fisherman’s Knot . .
Fishing Honors .
Fistulina hepatica .
Fixed Loop Knot.
Flags, Weather (Illus.) -
Flammarion .
Flicker or Highhole (Illus. a
Flint and Steel Fire Honors
Flowering Dogwood (Illus.)
Flowers for Honors . .
Fly-casting, Indoor, Honors
Fly-fishing Honors
Flying Eagles :
Football Kick Honors
Football Kick Record
Forester Degree. .
“Forester’s ‘cabal
Forestry . . A
Fork and Spoon .
Fort Enterprise. .
Fox Tracks (Illus.) .
Fox’s Hunt, Tracks of (illus. ).
Franklin, Sir John ;
Fraxinus americana. .
Frontier Scout Degree .
eT SM wih oi se
Furniture, Indian (Illus.)
Gallantry of Indians
Games
Arrow Fight .
Badger Pulling
Bear Hunt BM acta
Buffalo Chips. . .
455,
" 180,
456,
Index
Wanoe) Paper a es, e
Cock-fighting . ieee
Deer Hunt 3 Poeyce eA
Feather Dance .. .
Far Sight . A
Home Star
Hostile Spy
One-legged Chicken Fight 3
Pole Star .
Quick Sight
Rabbit Hunt .
Rat-on his-lodge .
Scout Messenger .
Scouting
Spearing the Great Sturgeon
Step on the Rattler
Strong Hand . 3
Tilting in the Water .
Tilting Spears .
Tree the Coon Sante
Tub-tilting on Land .
Watching by the Trail
Weasel in the Wood .
Game Laws, Keep the
Game Laws of Ind ans .
Games for the Camp
Gang-tramper Honors
Garangula’s Game Laws
Garland, Hamlin
Gauging Farness Honors
Gavia immer. . é
Gee-string Camp.
General Fishing Honors.
General or Common Council
General Scouting Indoors
General Scouting Outdoors
Genesis (Omaha)
Geology for Honors .
Ghost Dance Prophet Wovoka
Ghost Dance Song , .
Ghost Dance Teachings
Girls’ Standards . -
Gleeman Degree
Glimpses of Indian Character .
Golden or War Eagle ..
Golden Willow (Illus.) .
Goose, Canada or Honker (ius. i
Goose, Wild (Illus.) .
Government Atrocities .
Government, Camp .
Grand Council
Grand Coup .
Grand Sagamore, "Badge for
Grand Sachem, Badge for .
Grand Sachem, To Gain Title i
Grass Mats and Camp Loom (lus. dis
Great Bear . 4
Great Council The .
Great Dogstar :
Great Pyramid .
Green Log Grate (Illus. )
Grinnell,
On Indian Honesty
On Indian Humor
On Indian Physique .
On Indian Treatment of Women
Grouse, Ruffed (Illus.) .
16, at, 22, 487
558 Index
Guide; DheOldywreicc eel fe ee ne Back Handspring’. < << sls) toe
Gulick, Dr. Luther a te a ueeeaet 20S Bait-casting 5 ey fey Cet | Cin ee
Gum, Black . . Te a Ry ice beh Basket Making ~~ 9. 3 Senet
Gum, Sour . - 442 Bathing’. .2-).. 5. Bis en) CoRR
Gum, Star-leaved or Red (illus. Nees . 436 Batrachians . Pe o> aS
Gum, Sweet . . a5) AES Batting Baseball ; a PGs
Bee-line ; AMS a, ey
Hackmatack. . ae eS a eas Bicycle . a eae I00, IOI
Hairy Wolf’s Teepee emo) be ANS ASE Big Game Listed for. | . . . 106
Haliatos leucocephalus . . . . . 334 Birch Canoe Making. . . . . I09
Ball DrwWainheld|Si.) 6. mie ons24: Birds . 3! a, Cay ete ie See eS
Halter Knot. . Hee ey etuyadey Blazes and Signs MEAL Rept
Hammer Throw Honors . . . . 07 Blue. = ey re) ay eee
Hammer Throw Record . Re cient Boat Builder . . Svcd eo mELOO
Hand, Flag, and Lamp Signals Ben PC Bow and Arrow Making . .) See oe
Hand Sign of Woodcraft Indians . . 62 Butterflies’. 0) 2 7. eee II5
Hand Walk Honors. . .. . - 99 Cabin Building . . . S IIo
Hand iWrestlinge geo = 6s a1 en 207 Camper. os us.) ie EO
Handicraft Stunts ee. eee co Canoe-camper | eros
Handspring Honors. . . . . . 102 Canoeman).. = 6" 2) Jaume 102
Handspring Back, Honors. . . . 102 @hinithe Bars fo vee 98
Hard, M. E. a3 404, 410 Cooking /.02, 20 Gen eee IIo
Hard-hack OG. 2, We Re 2 Dancing . ste ete Sara
‘Head Band (Cite). 96 +s 2) eas Degrees, and IndianNames . . 03
‘HeadiChiefsThevreg jens, o.oo Diamond! Hitch -) 72 ee es ;
Head ChiefVowloteaies 9). eee eye Discus . eet ho | Ys }
Mead-dress/ Indianiewiys = cee e450 Dumb-bell’, |... 3 99, IOI
Hebeloma crustoliniforme . . . . 401 Ferns) \e))) ve Je) oe |
Hebeloma, Pie-shaped . . 401 Fish a) ty) lolly fel
Height and Weight Guessing Honors. 108 Flint and Steel Fire . . . . . 108
Hemlock . Dara Flowers. . MP i ic
Hemorrhage, or Internal Bleeding. . 300 Fly-casting, Indoor . . . ~~. II4
Hen Hawk (Illus.) . 4, 335 Football Kick eae 5, hos
Henry, Alexander, on Indian Bathing 24 Gang-tramper . on Ve aS eer
On Indian Chastity PGs 27 Gauging Farness . . og AEZOS
OnIndian Honesty . .... 44 Geology. aan Sb eS
Herald Honors . . Preteen General Fishing Pe ig ee)
Herald or Crier Degree . E Sete hr20 Hammer Throw .. .. | .2 ee
Heroic Apache Medicine Man. . . 522 Handspring «= = < \5 sos
Heroic Ideal, A . Heh eodes 6 Hand Walk Be es:
Heroism A aed Height and Weight Guessing ep acy nasser!
Heron, Great Blue (Illus. pre i 341, 342 Herald. . Jo 5 EE
Hiawatha. pie 0.) LONS3, TOL. SOE Hop, Step, and Jump . | Vso
Hickory, Big Budeie wee eae 422 Hopping on One Leg. . . . . O7F7
Mickory; Mackernut) 4.9. 3. 9. 422 Insects... 5: lo he
Hickory eienutre mere wre) (Gb << meendee Indian Bed Making . 5 ee
Hickory; Winteuwarinn «6 suntan42n Indian Clock Maker = 2 2) neemns
Hickory, Whiteddeart . . . « ~ 422 Knot Tying . 08
scored GluC ar wet gal Ghote. so ie Me Lacrosse Ball Thrown with Stick 2s 68
HacoviGclab¢G Wipe) Wrehhoe rie, ee ee Ae Wife Saving jan) =) < tat EOD,
Hicorta ovata. . . . . . =» » 422 Tasso: 4. 3. sis), a) en ee oe
FIicortasPecOnin yeu ta hes rs. feo AZO attitude: .. «| (sj) Sees 109
High Council . are 263, 268 Latrine Making . . . . IIo
High Council of Guidance. . . 64 Bog-riding ir eeeae x 102
High Hikers, Horns of Giles: )- ») 2266. Jone-tramper 5 )\5) (eee 103
High Honors. . . uh le AOA: Medley Race . .2 5 eo
Highhole (ne Nem e it eUeeseS Map Making . . BT fact 4c IIr
Hiking inithesnowie - = «= 2) J.) 104! Match-fire . oe A See
Hirundro erythrogaster . . . . « 349 Mineralogy. << eneweieee 116
Home-made Compass . . . . . 210 Mosses . oy eS armen
Homestar Gamemuriian 6.) te i wees Moths .\.) (32. 32) Se IIs
Honoriotithe!Indians 55 2) e) .) a5 Motoring . Pee oe), BIS
Honor Seandarde) RIP BE Aberdare pac eis Nature Study . PP ic! ag. ts
Honors .. Ey ats She Od Paddling |. 5: -.° si ci eeee
Archery . Ay AMER tp Rela Sh di) Paleontology «let: SS ae arene
Athletic Specialties hitse ot co ah) sok! Parallel. Bar.) <> alc eee
Axeman . PO ei eek OS: Peace Messenger. .« « © j Je) akc
Photography .
Sush\Up ,.. .
Red Cross. .
Revolver-shot .
Rope Climbing
Rowing 2 :
Rubbing-stick Fire. :
Running. CEP, oF
Running Backward ‘
Running Broad J ump pare
Running High Jump Be Ae
Running High Kick . . . .
Saddle-camper. Sie eH
ene acts, paeetay ist boa ue
outing . .
Shells ... .
Shot Put .
Sign-talking .
Signaling . .
Size Guessing .
Satta (ee
Ski-man Ne.
Snakes. .
Standing Broad Jump
Standing High J cena at ee
Star Gazing .. aire
Sweat Lodge ort tie
Swimming A ah ars
Tackle eee
Teepee Making .-. . .
phentuMiaking) 3 << 3. «
Throwing Baseball ae
Throwing Life Buoy .
Toadstools > ab 43
Tomtom Making. . ...
RitrAMINNe a st so. lew haley
RUEAVED Encl es) ehh o's
Traveler | An Bera oars ea
Traveler, MrcRICN ik so, tos
Traveler, Tropic
2 -«? « 2
.
a 6)a) (6 "8b a ae
© (0. 6) 6° ef a
ake) 8a oi.-@
oy Op ice THC
Vertebrates .
wines B iling .
ater Boi
Water Sports .
Woes Thri
eight owing ‘e
White . ae
Wilderness Cooking | he,
By Standards. . abe vs
Hoof Marks, Iron (Illus.) . .
Hop, Step, and Jump Honors. .
Hop, Step, and Jump Record. .
Hopping on One Leg Honors . .
Hopping on One Leg Recotd ay be
Hornaday, W. 2. "2 .
Horn for Camp
Horns of the High Hikers (Illus. ).
Hornbeam, Hop. .
Hornbeam, Water or American
Horseman Degree é
Hostile Spy Game . Sel ae
Hospitality of the Indian . :
pws Deen. eek s
S)-6@ (a) 8.0: 16))'02 1816.
.
.
.
.
.
. 100,
96,
Index 559
How to Stuff a Bird (Illus.) . . . 352
Howard, General _ . Lan SOS
Hummingbird, Ruby-throated. she sag
Humor of the Indian _ . SLAG Vest.
Hunger, A Danger When astitsch, 2 324
Hunter Degree . . at ka weer oe
Hunter, J. D etch eiites) 47 ued
On Indian Bravery sient fob Lintetey Mt 20)
On) Indian Honesty) 6 2 5) 3 43
{, On Indian Providence . SAVER ASO
On Indian Respect for Aged. a i w3s
On Indian Truthfulness . . . . 45
Hunter’s Lamp (Illus.). . . . 217, 218
Hunting of Mishi-Mokwa . . . . 1 58
Hunting the Deer (Illus.) . . . . 283
Hurricane Warnings Clue) wee e252
Hyades . ; Oe at 2Oe
Hylocichla mustelinus . . 1. 6. 351
Iceland PNIGSSmmeee <)) ste toll) sete lnnS 20)
Icterus galbula_ . tl Rak Soe, Ven Ge aaO
Ideal Camp Life, Mthetaen ey tae eee 7
Ideal Indian, Mikes ks ont Ga nenee 8
Ideography . Ate Deere)
Indian Bath or Sweat Lodge ee hears
Indian Bed Making Honors . . . I10
Indian Boy auhee aces
Indian Boy, Badges of the . 75
Indian Boy in Big Lodge, ToBecomean 68
Indian Boy in Little Lodge, To Be-
come an . , 65
Indian, Charges Against her nie “13-20
Indian Clock Pas Bae to
Indian Clock Maker Honors . . . IIE
Indian Costume (Illus.). . . . . 465
Indian Dram (illusi))* 2 2.8. =, 400
Indian Dyes . 477
Indian Furniture ‘(Illus. aes : 455, 4 456, 457
Indian Game Laws . Ee)
Indian Head Band (Illus. es aay eh OLN ASS
Indian Head-dress . - 459
Indian, The Highest Type of Primi-
tive Life tbs
Indian wihe ldeal eo 3S ie fe ie 9
Indian’ Message ofthe . . . . - 547
Indian Names Sate e
Indian or Willow Bed (illus. ie - 471-475
Indian Paints . . P 2) 475
Indian Pravyers(".5, 3 0.) 22, 24, 488
Indian Runners + 440
Indian Scout Pictographs (Illus. i - 240
Indian Scouts. oer 410) 57
Indian Seats (Illus. i mes 435; 446, 457
Indian pga Tengnage Shae 229
Indian Signs. . 2 ie Peri oteeie L25o
JndiansSoneuBooks® =, 2 ... 46
Indian Well . 5 270
Indian Winner at Olympic Games. 50
Indian Women, Statusof . . . . 19
iridian Works wire ieee) owe nea:
Indian Ways. . EO Sod ad neue fone
Indian’s Creed, Tein: ic Lo teae araray
Indian’s Dark Side. . . . . 13
indians and) Moneves ve) fe es ee
Indians Despise Greed . . . . . 312
Indians, Seton 9
Indians Taught “Us Woodcraft ‘and
Scouting . 58
Indoor Competition ; Been eal Ae)
Indoor or Winter Activities . . . 173
Inflammation of Eyesor Skin. . . 312
Initiation Feeand Dues ... . 72
Initiation of a Brave, The . . . . 65
Injuriousness of Tobacco. . Bh lara vier
Ink from Berriesand Leaves . . . 312
Insect Borersas Food . . . . |. 327
Insect Stings cet Ga su clad oe SOS
Insects fom Honorses. 6.0 se EES
Inspection _. D, iidiy eee eZ
tana PUetits eric...) ce ce oeraee
Internal Bleeding . . . . . . 306
Tronwooau(lass)y) wale.) ea woe ees
Jack-rabbit Tracks (Illus.) . . ~. 379
Jesuits on Iroquois Hospitality . . 36
Jui-jitsu Game . Ee igae cit;
Joseph, Chief of Nez Perces si lok SeBOA:
Juglans nigra. . . ata EADS,
Juglans Cinera ed ite. Pel Caco
Jupiter 212
Kanakuk, the Kickapoo Prophet x 10-18, 502
Keeler, Harriet L. . 443
Keen Eyes See eS kG)
Keep Cool When Lost « Ree ene rhb 2 ci
Keeper, The . Pee Pm Atal th:
Keeper of the Canarsie. ate 264
Keeper of the Campfire . . . . 264
Keeper of the Garbage. . . . . 264
Keeper of the Latrine . . . . . 264
Keeper of the Letters . - 264
Keeper of the Milk and the Ice Box 264
Keeping the Winter Count. 478
Kephart’s ‘‘Book of Camping ‘and
Woodcrattve ir ereels ou ea azo
Index
Ketchalive Trap (Illus. ) o: Ara haley atean nai CR
dness, Lawof . 3) tie, el eee
Kindness of the Indian . ° - 138)
King Arthur. . «be eee 9
King Cap « pple eee
King Kamar Died of Tobacco Heart 322
Kingbird (Tilus.)) . . . \<)) g4syaae
Kitchi Wigwam:... . . 3) 6 Gone
Knot Tying Honors a4 of | enema 108
Knots (lus.)". |... 0) (2) eee
Labrador Tea (Illus.) . . . . Bae
Labrador Tea asa Drink . 366)
Lacrosse Bel Thrown with Stick
ono: 5
Lacrosse "Ball Thrown with Stick
Record “sere 98
Lace or Thong (Illus.) . : 278, 279
Lafitau, on Indian Bravery . 29
On Indian Nobleness — . . ee
On Indian Respect for Aged. of See
On Indian Sel cone ee ean
Lament, The See 152
Lantern, Camp (Illus.) . » « 207; ake
Lantern, Weeds s (illus) - « 27,218
Larch . ee 413
Larix laricina eee a) etl 413
Larus argentatus. . a, yeveieh Aas
Lasso, Honors), <. (lens onan
Ledum groenlandicum . . . «. « 332
Le Furet,Song . «0 \« Ua) ia ee
Leggings ; 2 el) Cee
Lepiota morgani (Illus. ie oe Sten eee
Lepus the Hare, .. <<. 2) ic eee
Lessons of Lone-chief . . . . «. 486
Leverwood . oe) (ue eet teaneannneS
Lichens as Foods MPranmicn ce
Life Saving Honors . Pee
Lightning. PE rs ke
Lights for Camps PEI iy oh
Lime Tree PRR ei 5,
Linden . 2s Ue en
Liquidambar. Styracifiua. +! ei ten ee aaa
Liquor Forbidden oe) elo eee
Lirtodendron Tulipifera PEM Se sey
Literary Digest, Article from . . . g2t
Little Dogstar . «eid hoy teas eee
Little Lodge, The . : 6 & 00) @#uom
Little Lodge Degrees . . 2. « « ZI7
Little Fawn . °. «. ‘ss een
Little Wolf)... 5s ey ene
Lodge; Big -. «.- + << sa) ome pennnnne
—- .. a=
Lodge, Little . A dleich ele HOM!
Lodge, Medicine ato ven vehi aey 2 Om
Lodge of the Old Guides | ! eee LOK
Lodges of the Nation . . . . . 64
Log-riding Honors MO rare ee fey
Lollakapop_ . Woah Ae Weeere tae
Lone Star Trick . . caus 186
Lone-tramper Honors |. tetos
Loom, For Grass Mats (Illus. ). a) at pZEO
Loom, ae (Ilfus:)! 7) din eo
Loon a a 336, 338
Lost in the Woods | 214
Lower Forms of Life for Honors II5
Loyalty ; Se eee 63
Lung “ch ee Ae pets 312
yeoneraaces 2 5. ke le 406
Lycoperdon pyriforme . . . . 406
McIlvaine, Professor . . . . 303,304
McIlvaine and Macadam . . 398, 410
Mad Dog or Snake Bite . . + 308
Magic of the Campfire, The . - 468
Making a Bird Skin (LIllus. ) fs aos
Making a Teepee ap eaten AAS
Making Moccasins (Illus. wy: Barter ae (ie
Making of the Laws. . S53) 168:
Making the Warbonnet (Illus. ) ea AOw
Male Fern (Illus.) . . aie 316
Mallery . ottag ee 460
Mammal Taxidermy 365
Manhood Developed by Woodcraft 5
Manhood, The First Aim of Education 5
Manual Alphabet (Illus.) 7 234
Map Making Honors ... IIr’
Maple, a ERVEG) cc a 439
Maple. 438
Maple, Rak Scarlet, Water or Swamp 439
Maple, Rock . ays 438
Maple, Silver... aris 438
Maple, Sugar (Illus. ) 438
Maple, White or Soft 438
Marasmius urens (Illus.) 399, 400
Marasmius, Woolly or urning
PERU) orayh ied is Site a « 399-400
a BROUAI e Voh rs). ts . 322
Samy Ok .. 22
Marshall, NinaL. ; 408, 410
Martin. Purple (Illus.) 146348
Mashkiki Wigwam . 117
Massacre of Cheyennes by Chivington 14
Massacre of Indians by Baker 15
Massacres of Whites : 56
Match-fire Honors . 107
Ma-to-to-pa . be
Measurement of Animals 365
Medicine Lodge, The 64
Medicine Lodge Degrees 117
Medicine Man, The : , 7
Medicine Man and His Ways 3 490
Medicine Man, Badge for . 76
Medicine Man, Duties of 65
Medicine, Woodland. 305
edley Race Honors 100
Melospiza melodia 347
Mercury . 212
Merriam, Dr. C. Hart 365, 300
Merrill, on Corruption of Cheyennes 48
Index
Message of the Indian, The
Mice as Food sits
Miles, Gen. Ni elson A. .
On Indian Heroism
Milky Way .
Mimus Palvetabios
Mineralogy for Honors. . :
Minkelrack(ilus.)aoe uct oes Le
Minisino . 5 4
Minisino, Badges for the
Minisino in Big Lodge, To Become a
Minisino in Little Rarer To ape a
Mis-caw-wa . ant xs
Chat heat Noo I
Mishi-Mokwa Play . :
Mizar . x 105,
Moccasin Making dillus. F ‘
Moccasin Song : :
Moccasins ;
Mockingbird (Illus.) | Ae
Mockernut .
Mohawks of Manhattan
Money, How to Raise .
Monthly Programs . .
Moon, The . .. .
Moraviantown .
Morels Mushrooms (Illus.) Aan
mC tah Mee pec
Morgan, on Indian Nobleness . s
On Indian Truthfulness. . . .
Morning Star . 5
Morse Code Signaling Honors. | :
Moses as Advocate of Camping Ane
Mosquitoes, Black Flies, etc. ae
Mosses for Honors . . a ie
Mothsifor Honors) ) rane
Sagamore, To Gain Title of |. 14
Sagamores, Councillors without Elec-
tion acon ERS 71
Sagamores of the Order, The Ba) sted ty fk
Sailmg Honors . . Al tet sy ITO?
EUbOI Ens eh eee Aer pe On moe iene TO}
Salix nigra a e416
Salute of the Woodcraft Indians . . 62
Sassafras (Illus.) d - 310, 434, 435
SSGSSO/TGS|SOSSOjROS) ew sat PABA
DACHETT ie rine UeMeme roby oy tare dl wot age
Scaldsiit. st etn mbsticll ew (bes 2BOO.
SealpWancey Yiremene ees! ves PAO
Scalps JA See R eiAa behaves bre) ‘se AOS
Scarlet Dye . . ne a AAS
Scarlet Tanager (lus. yi SON ec eh eV. t3
Schultz, J. W. Ales nko dos
On Blackfoot Cleanliness . . . 25
On Indian Kindness . 35
Oe oe Men Making ¢ Own Cloth- y
. 3
Seaut Battons (Illus. a) Be GOWER ee Re eES Yh)
Scout Messenger Game Si eeiaialies, 24205
Scout or Pathfinder Degree . . . 133
Scout Runner Degree . . . . «. 4134
Scout; Dhel Trained! <2) =) 485
Scouts! indian’ <) iiescr. meatal hue
Index
Scawting Us iaiiectowes be
Scouting Honors . .
Scouting Indoors . .
Scouting, Medley . .
Scouting, Principles of .
Screech Owl (Illus.). .
Screech Owls. A
© (ce —s 12
ey oe Xe
290
107
180
302
nets
- 336, 337
5 84
Seagull, Cocaon Altus.) + 336, 338
Second Chief, T. ate «| | Sn Re
Secrecy Rei Council «. ose ea
Secrets of the Council et ees
Secrets of'the Trail. << < “% “.) gael
Self-Control of the Indian - «aR
Self-Government with Adult Guidance 4
Serviss, Garrett P. . . . . « 207, 233
SetonIndians . .. 0 see 9
Seven Dancers se: en) ee
Sex Matters . . 8) he leas
Seymour, Gov. Horatio... 1s; 1a ee
Shagbark Hickory : ~~ <) scl surement
Sharpshooter Degree . . . « « £35
Shawnees. . 2! fou ee a Oe
Sheep Rock Shoulder Pee ce SS
Sheep Tracks (Illus.) a ee oe
Sheet'Bend Knot. : . «. « Js) seuzom
Shellbark Hickory) .°.<,' 7% Sys emmeneaoem
Shells'for/Honors™ |." \. si en een
Shepherd’s Star . ee eine
Sheridan, Gen. Philip Se {15
Shield Standards (Illus.) ov) en a
Shock, or Nervous Collapse «:; tat elem
Shooting, Target. + sy ROsuReeanes
Shoshoni . . PUI eh ck TS
Shot Put Honors. PECs of
Shot Put Record. a (ey eee
Shot'Signals:;. ..). .: | %, go Ove tolmntonmnea rea
Shut Your, Mouth «= <\ieaee 320
Sialia sialis Sw! es) nena enna
Sibley, General . sn otene 444
Sign, The Se te dy Si
Sign Language . 3. at O7aeee
Sign Language Dictionary of +: , Aen. eae
Sign for Question (Illus.) . . . 236
Sign-talking Honors 2) oe nS
eee “Very Much” (Illus. i +, ees
i
ae Blazes’ (Ulus:)ive) es ates 246
Indian . cure | Lier 228, 250
In Grass (Illus. ) 246, 247
In Stones (Illus.) ae ‘ “246, 247, 250
Ini Twigs (illus:))) 2) eee ene
Police . AP) ete
Smoke Signals ‘lus. )Y ature 246,248
Specials": «ue. be 4 et ea
Signals
By. Shots; 3) ie, 0's, s) shen inenmeC inne
Golor’) sie) 48) UF, el) de oe eee
Cord-pull . 5. aly) oi Coke henge meee
Engine Whistles... «2. gee 254
Hand, Flag, and Tap pe ye rs
Railway é ° Py eo) en
Smoke (Illus. Sine : 246, 248
Weather (Illus.) ._. Piers ei
Signaling and Indian Signs oc open Mees
Signaling Honors ; oo) Ae OL
Silence'in Youth! <-\., <2 uae
a a
Index
Silence: fhe Indian... . & so» s40T
Silence, The Law of Ce ar ae Ow
ea pte oy 5)! gt ow et wel et 200
Sitting Bull’s War Song .. . 146
Size Guessing Honors; . . . 314
Summary of Indian Character... 55
Summer Camp 256
Sunburn . : 315
Sundial, How to Make (Its. ) 216
Sunstroke _. 5 306
Sure Death Toadstools. . . . . 304
Swallow, Barn (Illus.) . . . . 348,340
Swan. . Soh seine aed, ed eon aoo
Swan, Trumpeter Ane Ai 340
Swan, Whistling. . . 340
Sweat Lodge. . fi 318
Sweat Lodge Honors | IIr
Sweat Lodge of Indians. See 326
Sweat Producer. . 3326
Sweet Birch (Illus. Me: s0) 910
Sweet Gum . . + 436
Swimmer Degree oo E37
Swimming Honors 100, IOT
Swimming Record . . . . . 100, 101
Sycamore (Illus.) . 43
Symptoms Toadstool Poisoning 398
Tacamahac . 418
Tackle Box or Ditty Box 180
Tackle-making Honors ; eure
Tally Book and How to ‘een It So fit
Tally Beever 264
Tamarack eit eile hey ae gees
Tanager, Scarlet lus. ) cia fol HORUNSa Te oH
Tapeworm . See Ramp a ree
Target Shooting . BOT eS ie 105
Target, Standard . . . . 478
Taxidermy (CIAL CS) ice te 352
Taxodium distichum
Tecumseh or Tecumtha
415
10, 55, 63; 8s $00
Tecumseh’s Humanity . "38
Teepee Cover, Complete (Iilus.) 446
Teepee, Decorations of a (Illus.) . 450
Teepee Etiquette ue 42
Teepee Making Honors. IIo
Teepee Poles (Illus.) . ¢ ea agg
Teepee, Putting Up the (Illus. ) . 448, 449
Teepees (Illus.) . 201, 444
Tem satay a Sobriety of the
wane 47
Tenskwatawe the Prophet . ay OS: Moa SOr
Tent Making Honors . . . . . I10
566
Index
alents' cas Gh cotlitet rey Mel Nalite atr2OL
Tests of Death si; Holfeletes* ooh e468 a 1308
schird(Chieh Phe wae vie aces eo)
Thompson, Will H. oS ee woe II2
Three Kings . 5 Act
Thrift and Providence of the Indian sh Mi2Q
Throat, Irritated . . ogre
Throwing Baseball Honors ~ 08
Throwing Baseball Record . 08
Throwing Life Buoy Honors 109
Throwing the Spear 301
Thrush, Wood (Illus.) 351
Thunder Band. 82
Thunder Bull, Cheyenne Chief 444
Thunder Bull’s Teepee ie, m 450
Thuya occidentalis é 415
Tilia americana . 440
Tilting in the Water pesky 6A 281
Tilting Spears|(llusi)ies 5 2 280
WimbersHitchy ens ace eenee | os ne 185
Tippecanoe . Ss a ts. 's 501
Titles of Nobles. 74
Track Photography . 370
Tracks,
Books and Articleson .. . 390
Brook Turtle (Illus. Me 3890
Cat (Illus.) 380
Deer (Illus.) 388
Dog (Illus.) 380
Dog and pi (Illus. ne 372
Fox (Illus 382
Newton ¥) Rabbit (Illus. yi 379
No Two Alike ; 371
of a City Woman (Illus. ) A 380
of a Young Hunter (Illus.) . - 380
of Old Man (Illus.) . - 389
of the Fox’s Hunt (Illus. ) - 386
Pig (illus.) - 388
Rabbits and Hares (Illus. Yes sa,
sheep (Illus.) . . 388
Snapping eae (Illus. ie - 3890
Wolf (Illus.) ee aah ce 375
Trail Secreta. TRI sR 360
PDrALling Or vnc s eteikVe ms, «ity huts 370
Trailing Game BY) sete 300
Trailing Honors Sareea rs IIo
Trainman’s Book obs 252
Trapping Animals Cis. ). Pa 360
Travel Honors f Site 102
Traveler Degree. . . . . 137
Traveler Honors Saiken its 109
Traveler, Arctic, Honors | - : 103
Traveler, Tropic, Honors) <9) 5 103
Treachery 6 63
Treachery of the Whites ; 241920.
Tree Books Recommended ( - 443
Tree the Coon Game SP re 200)
Drees!/Commoni soy sah. (eek ae) (ADE
‘Brees fOrsEIONOIs sa cin elt eee 116
Tribe, The . SAGs cca ow ole}
Tribe, Councils of the ; . 170
Tribe, Laws for the Ruling ofthe : 69
Tribe of Thunder Rollers . . . . 90
Tribe, Rulers of the 5 70
Tricholoma suibhizeuns (Illus. ‘i A > 300, 400
Trick Riding Siiheliai) von beet OS
Trochilus calnieis Km eal sorsammicgey carts) Ky
Troylodgtes aédon
Truthfulness and Honor of the Indian 45
Toadstool Books Recommended 409
Toadstool Dangers . 302
Toadstool Fokontae: Symptoms and
Remedy . oil Feats 308
Toadstools . . oie ot sk [even oe eee
Toadstools as Food | . : - 328
Toadstools for Honors . -), DEO
Toadstools, Kinds of oS 9308
Toadstools, Poisonous (Illus.) © gal gO
Toadstools, Safety in. 408
Toadstools, To Make Spore Prints of 303
Toadstools, Uncertain Kinds . 407
Toadstools, Wholesome (Illus.) 402
Tobacco, Deadliness of 321
Tobacco Forbidden to Indian Youth 49
Tobacco, Useof. . . b 63
Toes, Don’t Tum Out...) See 321
Tomton Making Honors . . . . Tir
AROTUGS Sy ie : 317
Tools for Fire Making (Illus. ). . 193, 104
Totem, The . . 5 61
Totem, Choosing a . Be tee)
Totem of the Woodcraft Indians Pewee) (67
Totem Pole (Illus.) . 267
Totems, Illustrated . 78, 83
Totems of Woodcraft Indians (Illus. ) 75
Toxylon pomiferum . 433
Tshut-che-nau, Chief of the
Kansas IO, i 33; ne 45; 47
Tshut-che-nau, Teachings o - 487
Tsuga canadensis 5 - 414
Tub-tilting on Land . . . 282
Tulip Tree ae ) area - 434, 435
Tupelo. af Wane - 441
Turkey Call . 180
Turkey Vulture Pr sik: 336.2337
Turning Wheel Honors. . . . .
Turtle Tracks (Illus.) . . 3890
Turtles for Honors . . . II5
Tweezers, Indian .. 215
Twig Signs (Illus.) . . wee, 2 246, 247
Twin Stars, The. . . ; 2Ir
‘Two-Bright-Eyes . . . . « « 285
Two Half-hitches 3 oe! eee
“Two Wilderness Voyagers” oh, eaoe
Dyrannus tyrannus 2) esas
Ulmus americana. wt 431
Ulmus fulva 4 431
United States Signal Service - 251
Unwholesome Toadstools (Illus. Nee 399
Utes alrT ce) asd Alia MS 249
Uranus)... s,s ec sy ee
Vapor Baths of Indians . . . . 26
Venus. . eter cco eh
Vertebrates forHonors. . . . Pt
Village Scout Degree ot soe ee
Volva, Sticky ee. 401
Volvaria gloiocephelus - Ose 401
Vow of Dog Soldiers Aa nas
Vow! of Each Brave’. 2 |<): ened
Vow of the Head Chief. . . 5 5 GE
Vow of Woodcraft Indians. . . . 65
Index
WabashaI . af te) 20,,78,155
Wabasha, Teachings ae RAS 485
Memicott,charies De. ys ee ExG
Walking FPOnOTS)./ <<) 2) Vie - 96, Ior
Wialkme Record... 6 os 96, 1or
Walnut, Black . nie, 428
Walnut, ee Fruit of ‘ilus.) Pe gene ne
Walnut, W Ae Amtimahaae ce)
Wampum Chict, The awe ee 71
Wampum Medals Sed OS
Warbonnet, Details of (Illus. i - 462, 463
Warbonnet, Indian. . wi tied gO
Warbonnet, Making the (Illus. ) baler OF
War Bow of the Penobscots (Illus.) 481, 482
War Clabs)(illus.) . jo 0 3). 460,470
Manmecresor Calis. t. is. 2°. 85
EMOTE NES ea we me ve vs (68
Meremanctey =) cole. es ce A eas
War Sack eine tice aye
War Shirt, Beaded (Illus.) Supe tee KAOO
War Shirt Contest . Bch amiss a
War Shirt, Indian (Illus. ) 3
War Shirt, Quill Worked lus. We Or A677,
Wars, Cause of Indian. . Lae Sho
Wash for Sore Throat . hts unt oat SLT,
Washakie : Bt 6
Watching by the TrailGame | |. 300
Watchword, The. tetera OL
Watchword “Blue Sky” ee ety ested ROX
Water... Mae, Corie ATO
Water Boiling GomEsti eas 302
Water Boiling Honors . . Ses tO
Water Sports and Travel Honors. . 102
Wax-end Lashng . =... «|. 385
Ways, Indian cpl ce aay Z|
Weasel in the Wood Game: - 164, 301
Weather Flags (Illus.) . . . . 251,252
Weather Signals (Illus. ) OY Riche ee ue ie
Weather Wisdom. Sl tae ihe, LOO
NveaversuRenot 6 isi. eo. a br 84
Weaving Honors. Such! tele es EO
Weight Throwing Honors . . . | 1or
Weight Throwing Record . . . . tor
Wetamoo, The Woman Sachem . . 40
Whistle-wood - «. « “440
White Calf, Chief of Blackfeet. sre Gh ey
White Honors. : Sed Aus LOT
Witte Maasaacres, =. 4. 2) 2) ss. 56
White Paint . 476
White Swan, One of Custer’s Scouts | 232
White Treachery Caney Reno yea; Sh Seats
White Wood . SL Usus ye. Windle VA S4G AAO
567
White Woodcraftsman Degree. 139
Whipple, Bishop, on Indian Honesty 44
On Indian Nobleness . . . . 53
Who May Enter Tribe. . Sone ee OO)
Widenmann, on Indian Honesty Pe ein Aras
Wigwag or Myer Signaling Honors . 110
Wild Duck or Mallard (Illus.). . 338, 340
Wild Fire, The Forest Enemy. . . 63
Wild Life, Preservationiof {40s 5 13) 63
Wilderness Cooking Honors . . . 110
Wildwood Remedies or cnnel= Ai set O00
Willow Bed (Illus.) . . - 471, 475
Willow, Black . . Au acon” bts!
Winnemucca, Teachings of Sere 85
Winning a Name .. SRY he MEAT
Winter Activities . Siento at
Winter-count, Keeping fhe eae 478
Wintergreen (Illus.) een aero ies War ats.
Wise Woodman Degree .. . . 140
Witch Hazel((@llusiy;o 2 yg, 2 oe 2 3ta
Wolf Tracks (Illus.) . . cele 75
Women, Indian Treatment HS as
Women, Status of Indian -
Women's Names... .
Wood, Dr. Casey C
Woodcraft Degrees . Ae,
Woodcraft Indians, Origin of .
O18) 0 62.6) 8) 10
w
iS)
°
Woodcraft, Meaning of 5 5
Woodcraft Pursuits. . . . .. 5
Woodland Medicine . 309
Woodland Songs, Dances, ‘and Cere-
monies . Site t45
Woodman, Accomplishments rg Sie 5
Woodman’s Lantern (Illus.) . 217, 218
Woodpecker, Downy (Illus. ) - 343, 344
wee ot EIONOF 951s) she ta Let ak O04!
Pes 3 Phe)
Wounded Knee Massacre See ae bay
Wounds . A 2) 2 g07, 315
Wound-Wash 300
Wovoka, the Prophet | of the Ghost
Dance 18, 510
Wren, Common House (llus.) Mh isdes50
Viellow: DG wie vase fom ott ake BATT
Yellow Paint TAREE La Arpt Ae)
Young Brave Be ts Vere as
Young Brave, Badges af the ns) ens 75
Young Brave, To Become . . 65, 67, 68
Zenaidura macroura. . . « «© « 343
THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS
GARDEN CITY, N.Y.
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