The use of an axe and hatchet—Best woods for special purposes—What
to do when you are lost—Nature’s compasses
The word “woodcraft” simply means skill in anything which pertains to
the woods. The boy who can read and understand nature’s signboards,
who knows the names of the various trees and can tell which are best
adapted to certain purposes, what berries and roots are edible, the
habits of game and the best way to trap or capture them, in short the
boy that knows how to get along without the conveniences of
civilization and is self-reliant and manly, is a student of woodcraft.
No one can hope to become a master woodsman. What he learns in one
section may be of little value in some other part of the country.
A guide from Maine or Canada might be comparatively helpless in
Florida or the Tropics, where the vegetation, wild animal life, and
customs of the woods are entirely different. Most of us are hopeless
tenderfeet anywhere, just like landlubbers on shipboard. The real
masters of woodcraft—Indians, trappers, and guides—are, as a rule,
men who do not even know the meaning of the word “woodcraft.”
Some people think that to know woodcraft, we must take it up with a
teacher, just as we might learn to play golf or tennis. It is quite
different from learning a game. Most of what we learn, we shall have
to teach ourselves. Of course we must profit from the experience and
observation of others, but no man’s opinion can take the place of the
evidence of our own eyes. A naturalist once told me that chipmunks
never climb trees. I have seen a chipmunk on a tree so I know that he
is mistaken. As a rule the natives in any section only know enough
woods-lore or natural history to meet their absolute needs. Accurate
observation is, as a rule, rare among country people unless they are
obliged to learn from necessity. Plenty of boys born and raised in the
country are ignorant of the very simplest facts of their daily
experience. They could not give you the names of a dozen local birds
or wildflowers or tell you the difference between a mushroom and a
toadstool to save their lives.
[Illustration: The wilderness traveller]
On the other hand, some country boys who have kept their ears and eyes
open will know more about the wild life of the woods than people who
attempt to write books about it; myself, for example. I have a boy
friend up in Maine who can fell a tree as big around as his body in
ten minutes, and furthermore he can drop it in any direction that he
wants to without leaving it hanging up in the branches of some other
tree or dropping it in a soft place where the logging team cannot
possibly haul it out without miring the horses. The stump will be
almost as clean and flat as a saw-cut. This boy can also build a log
cabin, chink up the cracks with clay and moss and furnish it with
benches and tables that he has made, with no other tools than an axe
and a jack-knife. He can make a rope out of a grape-vine or patch a
hole in his birch bark canoe with a piece of bark and a little spruce
gum. He can take you out in the woods and go for miles with never a
thought of getting lost, tell you the names of the different birds and
their calls, what berries are good to eat, where the partridge nests
or the moose feeds, and so on. If you could go around with him for a
month, you would learn more real woodcraft than books could tell you
in a lifetime. And this boy cannot even read or write and probably
never heard the word “woodcraft.” His school has been the school of
hard knocks. He knows these things as a matter of course just as you
know your way home from school. His father is a woodchopper and has
taught him to take care of himself.
If you desire to become a good woodsman, the first and most important
thing is to learn to use an axe. Patent folding hatchets are well
enough in their way, but for real woodchopping an axe is the only
thing. One of four pounds is about the right weight for a beginner. As
it comes from the store, the edge will be far too thick and clumsy to
do good work. First have it carefully ground by an expert and watch
how he does it.
If I were a country boy I should be more proud of skilful axemanship
than to be pitcher on the village nine. With a good axe, a good rifle,
and a good knife, a man can take care of himself in the woods for
days, and the axe is more important even than the rifle.
The easiest way to learn to be an axeman is to make the acquaintance
of some woodchopper in your neighbourhood. But let me warn you. Never
ask him to lend you his axe. You would not be friends very long if you
did. You must have one of your own, and let it be like your watch or
your toothbrush, your own personal property.
A cheap axe is poor economy. The brightest paint and the gaudiest
labels do not always mean the best steel. Your friend the woodchopper
will tell you what kind to buy in your neighbourhood. The handle
should be straight-grained hickory and before buying it you will run
your eye along it to see that the helve is not warped or twisted and
that there are no knots or bad places in it. The hang of an axe is the
way the handle or helve is fitted to the head. An expert woodchopper
is rarely satisfied with the heft of an axe as it comes from the
store. He prefers to hang his own. In fact, most woodchoppers prefer
to make their own axe handles.
You will need a stone to keep a keen edge on the axe. No one can do
good work with a dull blade, and an edge that has been nicked by
chopping into the ground or hitting a stone is absolutely inexcusable.
To chop a tree, first be sure that the owner is willing to have it
chopped. Then decide in which direction you wish it to fall. This will
be determined by the kind of ground, closeness of other trees, and the
presence of brush or undergrowth. When a tree has fallen the
woodchopper’s work has only begun. He must chop off the branches, cut
and split the main trunk, and either make sawlogs or cordwood lengths.
Hence the importance of obtaining a good lie for the tree.
Before beginning to chop the tree, cut away all the brush, vines, and
undergrowth around its butt as far as you will swing the axe. This is
very important as many of the accidents with an axe result from
neglect of this precaution. As we swing the axe it may catch on a bush
or branch over our head, which causes a glancing blow and a possible
accident. Be careful not to dull the axe in cutting brush. You can
often do more damage to its edge with undergrowth no thicker than
one’s finger than in chopping a tree a foot through. If the brush is
very light, it will often be better to use your jack-knife.
[Illustration: The right way to chop a tree—make two notches on
opposite sides]
In cutting a tree, first make two nicks or notches in the bark on the
side to which you wish it to fall and as far apart as half the
diameter of the tree. Then begin to swing the axe slowly and without
trying to bury its head at every blow and prying it loose again, but
with regular strokes first across the grain at the bottom and then in
a slanting direction at the top. The size of the chips you make will
be a measure of your degree of skill. Hold the handle rather loosely
and keep your eye on the place you wish to hit and not on the axe. Do
not work around the tree or girdle it but keep right at the notch you
are making until it is half way through the tree. Do not shift your
feet at every blow or rise up on your toes. This would tire even an
old woodchopper in a short time. See that you do not set yourself too
fast a pace at first. A beginner always starts with too small a notch.
See to it that yours is wide enough in the start.
[Illustration: The wrong way—this looks like the work of a beaver]
When you have cut about half way through, go to the other side of the
tree and start another notch a little higher than the first one. A
skilled man can chop either right-or left-handed but this is very
difficult for a beginner. If you are naturally right-handed, the
quickest way to learn left-handed wood chopping is to study your usual
position and note where you naturally place your feet and hands. Then
reverse all this and keep at it from the left-handed position until it
becomes second nature to you and you can chop equally well from either
position. This you may learn in a week or you may never learn it. It
is a lot easier to write about than it is to do.
When the tree begins to creak and show signs of toppling over, give it
a few sharp blows and as it falls jump sideways. Never jump or run
backward. This is one way that men get killed in the woods. A falling
tree will often kick backward like a shot. It will rarely go far to
either side. Of course a falling tree is a source of danger anyway, so
you must always be on your guard.
If you wish to cut the fallen tree into logs, for a cabin, for
instance, you will often have to jump on top of it and cut between
your feet. This requires skill and for that reason I place a knowledge
of axemanship ahead of anything else in woodcraft except cooking.
With a crosscut saw, we can make better looking logs and with less
work.
Next to knowing how to chop a tree is knowing what kind of a tree to
chop. Different varieties possess entirely different qualities. The
amateur woodchopper will note a great difference between chopping a
second growth chestnut and a tough old apple tree. We must learn that
some trees, like oak, sugar maple, dogwood, ash, cherry, walnut,
beech, and elm are very hard and that most of the evergreens are soft,
such as spruce, pine, arbor vitae, as well as the poplars and birches.
It is easy to remember that lignum vitae is one of the hardest woods
and arbor vitae one of the softest. Some woods, like cedar, chestnut,
white birch, ash, and white oak, are easy to split, and wild cherry,
sugar maple, hemlock, and sycamore are all but unsplitable. We decide
the kind of a tree to cut by the use to which it is to be put. For the
bottom course of a log cabin, we place logs like cedar, chestnut, or
white oak because we know that they do not rot quickly in contact with
the ground. We always try to get straight logs because we know that it
is all but impossible to build a log house of twisted or crooked ones.
It is a very common custom for beginners to make camp furniture,
posts, and fences of white birch. This is due to the fact that the
wood is easily worked and gives us very pretty effects. Birch however
is not at all durable and if we expect to use our camp for more than
one season we must expect to replace the birch every year or two.
Rustic furniture made of cedar will last for years and is far superior
to birch.
Getting lost in the woods may be a very serious thing. If you are a
city boy used to signboards, street corners, and familiar buildings
you may laugh at the country boy who is afraid to go to a big city
because he may get lost, but he knows what being lost means at home
and he fails to realize when he is in a city how easy it is to ask the
nearest policeman or passer-by the way home. Most city boys will be
lost in the woods within five minutes after they leave their camp or
tent. If you have no confidence in yourself and if you are in a
wilderness like the North woods, do not venture very far from home
alone until you are more expert.
It is difficult to say when we are really lost in the woods. As long
as we think we know the way home we are not lost even if we may be
absolutely wrong in our opinion of the proper direction. In such a
case we may soon find our mistake and get on the right track again.
When we are really lost is when suddenly a haunting fear comes over us
that we do not know the way home. Then we lose our heads as well as
our way and often become like crazy people.
A sense of direction is a gift or instinct. It is the thing that
enables a carrier pigeon that has been taken, shut up in a basket say
from New York to Chicago, to make a few circles in the air when
liberated and start out for home, and by this sense to fly a thousand
miles without a single familiar landmark to guide him and finally land
at his home loft tired and hungry.
No human being ever had this power to the same extent as a pigeon, but
some people seem to keep a sense of direction and a knowledge of the
points of compass in a strange place without really making an effort
to do it. One thing is sure. If we are travelling in a strange country
we must always keep our eyes and ears open if we expect to find our
way alone. We must never trust too implicitly in any “sense of
direction.”
Forest travellers are always on the lookout for peculiar landmarks
that they will recognize if they see them again. Oddly shaped trees,
rocks, or stumps, the direction of watercourses and trails, the
position of the sun, all these things will help us to find our way
out of the woods when a less observing traveller who simply tries to
remember the direction he has travelled may become terrified.
Rules which tell people what to do when they are lost are rarely of
much use, because the act of losing our way brings with it such a
confusion of mind that it would be like printing directions for terror
stricken people who are drowning.
Suppose, for example, a boy goes camping for a week or two in the
Adirondacks or Maine woods. If he expects to go about alone, his first
step should be to become familiar with the general lay of the land,
the direction of cities, towns, settlements, mountain ranges, lakes,
and rivers in the section where he is going, and especially with the
location of other camps, railroads, lumber camps, and so on in his
immediate neighbourhood, say within a five-mile radius. It is an
excellent plan to take along a sectional map which can usually be
bought of the state geologist. One can by asking questions also learn
many things from the natives.
Such a boy may start out from his camp, which is on the shore of a
lake, for example, on an afternoon’s fishing or hunting trip. If he is
careful he will always consult his compass to keep in mind the general
direction in which he travels. He will also tell his friends at camp
where he expects to go. If he has no compass, he at least knows that
the sun rises in the east and sets in the west and he can easily
remember whether he has travelled toward the setting sun or away from
it. Rules for telling the points of compass by the thickness of the
bark or moss on trees are well enough for story books. They are not of
much value to a man lost in the woods.
Suddenly, say at four o’clock, this boy decides to “turn around” and
go back to camp. And then the awful feeling comes to him that he
doesn’t know which way to turn. The woods take on a strange and
unfamiliar look. He is lost. The harder he tries to decide which way
the camp lies, the worse his confusion becomes. If he would only
collect his thoughts and like the Indian say “Ugh! Indian not lost,
Indian here. Wigwam lost,” he probably would soon get his bearings. It
is one thing to lose your way and another to lose your head.
When you are lost, you are confused, and the only rule to remember is
to sit down on the nearest rock or stump and wait until you get over
being “rattled.” Then ask yourself, “How far have I gone since I was
not sure of my way?” and also, “How far am I from camp?” If you have
been out three hours and have walked pretty steadily, you may have
gone five miles. Unless you have travelled in a straight line and at a
rapid pace, the chances are that you are not more than half that
distance. But even two or three miles in strange woods is a long
distance. You may at least be sure that you must not expect to find
camp by rushing about here and there for ten minutes.
We have all heard how lost people will travel in circles and keep
passing the same place time after time without knowing it. This is
true and many explanations have been attempted. One man says that we
naturally take longer steps with our right leg because it is the
stronger; another thinks that our heart has something to do with it,
and so on. Why we do this no one really knows, but it seems to be a
fact. Therefore, before a lost person starts to hunt for camp, he
should blaze a tree that he can see from any direction. Blazing simply
means cutting the bark and stripping it on all four sides. If you have
no hatchet a knife will do, but be sure to make a blaze that will show
at some distance, not only for your own benefit but to guide a
searching party that may come out to look for you. You can mark an
arrow to point the direction that you are going, or if you have
pencil and note-book even leave a note for your friends telling them
your predicament. This may all seem unnecessary at the time but if you
are really lost, nothing is unnecessary that will help you to find
yourself.
As you go along give an occasional whack at a tree with your hatchet
to mark the bark or bend over the twigs and underbrush in the
direction of your course. The thicker the undergrowth the more blaze
marks you must make. Haste is not so important as caution. You may go
a number of miles and at the end be deeper in the woods than ever, but
your friends who are looking for you, if they can run across one of
your blazes, will soon find you.
When you are certain that you will not be able to find your way out
before dark, there is not much use of going any farther. The thing to
do then is to stop and prepare for passing the night in the woods
while it is still daylight. Go up on the highest point of ground,
build a leanto and make your camp fire. If you have no matches, you
can sometimes start a fire by striking your knife blade with a piece
of flint or quartz, a hard white stone that is common nearly
everywhere. The sparks should fall in some dry tinder or punk and the
little fire coaxed along until you get a blaze. There are many kinds
of tinder used in the woods, dried puff balls, “dotey” or rotten wood
that is not damp, charred cotton cloth, dry moss, and so on. In the
pitch pine country, the best kindlings after we have caught a tiny
blaze are splinters taken from the heart of a decayed pine log. They
are full of resin and will burn like fireworks. The Southerners call
it “light-wood.”
Dry birch bark also makes excellent kindlings. A universal signal of
distress in the woods that is almost like the flag upside down on
shipboard is to build two smoky fires a hundred yards or more apart.
One fire means a camp, two fires means trouble.
Another signal is two gunshots fired quickly, a pause to count ten and
then a third. Always listen after you have given this signal to see if
it is answered. Give your friends time enough to get the gun loaded at
camp. Always have a signal code arranged and understood by your party
before you attempt to go it alone. You may never need it but if you do
you will need it badly.
Sometimes we can get our bearings by climbing a tree. Another aid to
determine our direction is this: Usually all the brooks and water
courses near a large lake or river flow into it. If you are sure that
you haven’t crossed a ridge or divide, the surest way back home if
camp is on a lake is to follow down the first brook or spring you come
across. It will probably bring you up at the lake, sooner or later.
On a clear night you can tell the points of compass from the stars.
Whether a boy or girl is a camper or not, they surely ought to know
how to do this. Have some one point out to you the constellation
called the “dipper.” It is very conspicuous and when you have once
learned to know it you will always recognize it as an old friend. The
value of the dipper is this: The two stars that form the lower corners
of its imaginary bowl are sometimes called the “north star pointers.”
The north star or Polaris, because of its position with reference to
the earth, never seems to move. If you draw an imaginary line through
the two pointers up into the heavens, the first bright star you come
to, which is just a little to the right of this line, is the north
star. It is not very bright or conspicuous like Venus or Mars but it
has pointed the north to sailors over the uncharted seas for hundreds
of years. By all means make the acquaintance of Polaris.