We made our kitchen near the river, where this dry moss did not grow.
A camp fire for cooking is not a bonfire. A tenderfoot never remembers
this; but an old campaigner can be recognised by the smallness of his
fire; he does not waste fuel. In the woods there may be plenty of
timber, but he is not going to waste time, energy, and axes in cutting
down piles of firewood when he can make a few handfuls do equally
well; and if he is out on the plains where firewood is almost unknown,
he has to do with a few roots of grass, or bits of cow-dung, etc.
Then a big roaring fire, though it looks very cheery, sends off
sparks, and in dry camping weather these are very dangerous, whether
in the woods, or on the heather, or among the grass.
[Illustration: MY CAMP KITCHEN.]
We began our fire by, first of all, collecting a heap of firewood,
chiefly dead branches from trees; then by laying a few shreds of
birch-bark between two good flat stones of equal height (about six
inches), and on these we laid a few bits and splinters of dry wood
taken from the inside of a dead tree, and on that just two or three
small dry sticks, and then set it alight. As it burnt we gradually
added more small sticks till it was a good strong little fire, then we
added more and more sticks, the object being to get the space between
the stones gradually full of glowing red-hot bits of wood to give heat
to the cooking pots, which we then stood on the two stones so as to
bridge over the fire.
The great art is to begin with a very _small_ fire and a
_very_ dry one. You can then add to its size as you please later
on, and when it is going strong you can add damper wood if dry wood is
scarce. Birch-bark cannot be found everywhere, but it is the best of
lighting tinder when you have it.
The channel between the stones is much better if laid so as to face
the breeze. The fire can then be kept going at the mouth of it, and
the heat will blow through; a bigger kind of log can be put in from
the other end to catch fire and add to the heat in the channel.
Of course, there are plenty of other ways of making fires, which you
can read about in _Scouting for Boys_, but this is the particular
kind of cooking fire that we used in my Norwegian camp.
At night, when we had cooked our supper and the night was getting
chilly, of course, we put on big logs laid across each other, and so
got a big, star-shaped fire to make a blaze to warm us,
But we kept a good watch on any sparks to see that they didn't touch
the moss or heather, and when we turned in, we trod out the fire and
poured water over the whole of the ashes, so as to prevent any chance
of embers blowing out into flame again during the night and setting
light to the grass.
Scouts cannot be too careful in this matter, especially in England,
where landowners are very good at lending their ground to troops for
camping, but are naturally very nervous all the time lest by some
carelessness a grass fire may get started, and thousands of pounds'
worth of timber or property get burnt.
Early in the morning we were to leave our rest-house near the railway
in order to drive (and partly to walk) to the place where we were
going to make our headquarters. This was forty-nine kilometres
distant. How many miles is that?
As kilometres are generally used abroad for telling distances, a Scout
ought to know how to compare the two and here is a simple way of doing
it: Multiply your number of kilometres by five and divide the result
by eight, and you will have the number of miles. Thus:
We want to know how many miles our forty-nine kilometres are.
49
5
---
8)245
---
30 5/8 or about 30 1/2 miles.
As I have said, we were to leave early, but we found that the
Norwegian idea of early is not so very early as with us in England.
They thought eight o'clock breakfast very early, and the cart, which
was supposed to start at nine, did not get away till 10:30.
It was a little ramshackle sort of dogcart with a very high seat,
which just gave standing room for us among our baggage, while the boy
in charge of the pony hung on as best he could behind.
The pony was fine and strong and fat, but awfully sedate; in fact, it
was only after a lot of persuasion that we got him to move at a trot,
and then it was a marvellously slow trot.
However, I found that if one showed him the spare end of the rope
reins, and offered to strike him with it, he mended his pace
considerably. He kept his eye on me all the time--
The Norwegians seem to be very kind to their animals. They don't use
whips or blinkers or bearing-reins on their horses and before we had
gone very far the boy in charge considered it time to unharness and
feed his horse for a few minutes. We walked on while he did so, and as
it wasn't for an hour and a half that he overtook us again, we guessed
he had given the horse a very fine feed indeed.
[Illustration: THE HORSE KEPT HIS EYE ON ME ALL THE WAY.]
We didn't do ourselves badly, either, because all along the road,
which ran through beautiful woods along the hillside, we found lots of
excellent raspberries growing wild.
We changed ponies half-way: but when we had got nearly to our
journey's end, the boy said he must stop and feed the horse. We said:
"No; it is only four or five miles more, and the pony will be home."
But the boy began to cry at our cruelty, so we had to stop and let the
horse graze. It was very pleasing to see that they are so kind to
their animals.
I have said that I was not one day in Norway before I saw a Boy Scout.
Well, I was not two days in the country before I saw a Girl Guide.
Correctly dressed in the same kits those in England, with her patrol
ribbons on, she was taking lunch at the rest-house where we stopped
for ours. Unfortunately, she could not talk English, so we could not
have a chat, as I should have liked.
It is a grand thing for Scouts who care to travel that Boy Scouts are
now to be found in most foreign countries, because you have only to
make the secret sign a few times in any town, and you will get an
answer, and find a brother Scout ready to help you.
In Norway, especially, they seem likely to be very useful to British
Scouts, because they are very like British boys, except that they have
much more practice in woodcraft.
A large proportion of them live in wildish country, among the forests
and lakes, and so they know how to look after themselves; they are
nice, cheery fellows. They are very clean, and they speak the truth.
Well, that means a great deal, because you can trust a fellow who
speaks the truth, and, what is more, you can trust him to behave well
in danger or trouble.
I find that men who tell lies in peace time are not among the bravest
in war; and telling a lie is, after all, a bit of cowardice--the
fellow who tells it is afraid to speak the truth, or he hopes to get
something in return for what he says, if he can only get the other
fellow to see the question as he wants him to.
Well, that's a sneaking way of doing it. A manly fellow will speak
out, and always say exactly what he wants or what is the real state of
the case; he will be believed and will generally get his way. In any
case, show me a liar, and I can show you a "funk-stick."
* * * * *