To be in harmony with nature, one must be true in thought, free in
action, and clean in body, mind, and spirit. This is the solid granite
foundation of character.
Have you ever wondered why most great men were born in humble homes and
passed their early youth in the open country? There a boy is accustomed
to see the sun rise and set every day; there rocks and trees are
personal friends, and his geography is born with him, for he carries a
map of the region in his head. In civilization there are many deaf ears
and blind eyes. Because the average boy in the town has been deprived of
close contact and intimacy with nature, what he has learned from books
he soon forgets, or is unable to apply. All learning is a dead language
to him who gets it at second hand.
It is necessary that you should live with nature, my boy friend, if only
that you may verify to your own satisfaction your schoolroom lessons.
Further than this, you may be able to correct some error, or even to
learn something that will be a real contribution to the sum of human
knowledge. That is by no means impossible to a sincere observer. In the
great laboratory of nature there are endless secrets yet to be
discovered.
We will follow the Indian method, for the American Indian is the only
man I know who accepts natural things as lessons in themselves, direct
from the Great Giver of life.
Yet there exists in us, as in you, a dread of strange things and strange
places; light and darkness, storm and calm, affect our minds as they do
yours, until we have learned to familiarize ourselves with earth and sky
in their harsher aspects. Suppose that you are absolutely alone in the
great woods at night! The Indian boy is taught from babyhood not to fear
such a situation, for the laws of the wilderness must necessarily be
right and just, and man is almost universally respected by the animals,
unless he himself is the aggressor. This is the normal attitude of trust
in our surroundings, both animate and inanimate; and if our own attitude
is normal, the environment at once becomes so. It is true that an innate
sense of precaution makes us fear what is strange; it is equally true
that simplicity and faith in the natural wins in the end.
I will tell you how I was trained, as a boy, to overcome the terror of
darkness and loneliness. My uncle, who was my first teacher, was
accustomed to send me out from our night camp in search of water. As we
lived a roving life in pursuit of game, my errand led me often into
pathless and unfamiliar woods. While yet very young, all the manhood and
self-reliance in me was called forth by this test.
You can imagine how I felt as I pushed forward alone into the blackness,
conscious of real danger from possible wild beasts and lurking foes. How
thrilling, how tantalizing the cry of the screech-owl! Even the rustling
of a leaf or the snapping of a dry twig under foot sent a chill through
my body. Novice that I was, I did not at once realize that it is as easy
as swimming; all I needed was confidence in myself and in the elements.
As I hurried through the forest in the direction my uncle had indicated,
there seemed gradually to develop sufficient light for me to distinguish
the trees along my way. The return trip was easier. When, as often
happened, he sent me for a second pailful, no protest or appeal escaped
my lips, thanks to my previous training in silent obedience. Instinct
helped me, as he had foreseen, to follow the trail I had made, and the
trees were already old acquaintances. I could hear my own breathing in
the silence; my footfall and heart-beat sounded as though they were
those of another person coming behind me, and while this disturbed me at
first, I quickly became accustomed to it. Very soon I learned to
distinguish different kinds of trees by the rustling of their leaves in
the breeze which is caused by the stir of man or animal.
If you can accustom yourself to travel at night, how much more you will
be able to see and appreciate in the daytime! You will become more
sensible of the unseen presences all about you and understand better the
communications of the wild creatures. Once you have thrown off the
handicap of physical fear, there will develop a feeling of sympathetic
warmth, unknown before.
In the event of sudden danger, I was taught to remain perfectly
motionless--a dead pause for the body, while the mind acts quickly yet
steadily, planning a means of escape. If I discover the enemy first, I
may be passed undiscovered. This rule is followed by the animals as
well. You will find it strictly observed by the young ones who are
hidden by their mother before they are able to run with her; and they
are made to close their eyes also. The shining pupil of the eye is a
great give-away.
It is wonderful how quickly and easily one can adjust himself to his
surroundings in wild life. How gentle is the wild man when at peace! How
quick and masterful in action! Like him, we must keep nature's laws,
develop a sound, wholesome body, and maintain an alert and critical
mind. Upon this basis, let us follow the trail of the Indian in his
search for an earthly paradise!