the ragged street Dog; give them bare boards, or a silken cushion, or
snow, three turns around and down they go.
Why? Not so hard to answer as some simple questions. Long, long ago, the
wild great-great-grandfather of the Dog--a yellow creature with black
hair sprinkled on his back, sharp ears, light spots over his eyes, and a
white tail-tip--used to live in the woods, or on the prairies. He did
not have a home to which he might return every time he wanted to rest
or sleep; so he camped wherever he found himself, on the plains, in a
thicket, or even in some hole in a rock; and he carried his bedclothes
on his back. But he always found it worth while to add a little comfort
by smoothing the grass, the leaves, the twigs, or the pebbles before
lying down; and the simplest way to do this was by curling up, and
turning round three times, with the body brushing the high grass or
pebbles into a comfortable shape for a bed.
Yes, and they all do it to-day just the same, big and little, which is
only one of the many proofs that they are descended from the same
wild-wood great-grandfather, and still remember his habits.
TALE 69
The Deathcup of Diablo
[Illustration: The Deathcup Toadstool]
The world went very well in those bright days of the long ago, when the
wedding of El Sol and Maka Ina set all living things rejoicing. Green
youth and sparkling happiness were everywhere. Only one there
was--Diablo--who found in it poor comfort. He had no pleasure in the
growing grass. The buttercups annoyed him with the gayness of their
gold. It was at this time he chewed their stalks, so that many ever
since have been flattened and mangled. And the cherry with its fragrant
bloom he breathed on with his poison breath, so its limbs were burnt and
blackened into horrid canker bumps. And poisonous froth he blew on the
sprouting rose leaves, so they blackened and withered away. The jewel
weed, friend of the humming birds, he trampled down, but it rose so many
times and so bravely, that he left the yellow dodder like an herb-worm,
or a root-born leech to suck its blood all summer long, and break it
down. Then to trail over the trunks of trees and suck their life, he
left the demon vine, the Poison Ivy with its touch of burning fire. He
put the Snapping Turtle in the beautiful lakes to destroy its harmless
creatures and the Yellow-eyed Whizz he sent, and the Witherbloom with
its breath of flame.
And last he made the Deathcup Toadstool, and sowed it in the woods.
He saw the Squirrels eating and storing up the sweet red russula. He saw
it furnish food to mice and deer, so he fashioned the Deathcup Amanita
to be like it; and scattered it wherever good mushrooms grew, a trap for
the unwary.
Tall and shapely is the Deathcup; beautiful to look upon and smelling
like a mushroom. But beware of it, a very little is enough, a morsel of
the cup; the next night or maybe a day later the poison pangs set in.
Too late perhaps for medicine to help, and Amanita, the Deathcup, the
child of Diablo, has claimed another victim.
How shall we know the deadly Amanita among its kindly cousins, the good
mushrooms? Wise men say by these:--The poison cup from which its
springs; the white kid collar on its neck; the white or yellow gills;
and the white spores that fall from its gills if the cup, without the
stem, be laid gills down on a black paper for an hour.
By these things we may know the wan Demon of the woods, but the wisest
Guides say to their tribe:--"Because death lurks in that shapely
mushroom, though there are a hundred good for food, they are much alike,
and safety bids you shun them; let them all alone."
So Diablo went on his way rejoicing because he had spoiled so much good
food for good folk.
This, the danger of the Deathcup, is the Seventh Secret of the Woods.
[Illustration: The Poison Ivy]
TALE 70
Poison Ivy or the Three-Fingered Demon of the Woods
You have been hearing about good fairies and good old Mother Carey and
Medicine in the Sky. Now I am going to warn you against the
three-fingered Demon, the wicked snakevine that basks on stone walls and
climbs up the tree trunk, and does more harm than all the other plants,
vines, trees, and bushes put together; for it is not like the Deathcup,
easy to see and easy to let alone.
This is the Poison Ivy. Does it not look poisonous as it crawls
snake-like up some trunk, sending suckers out into the tree to suck the
sap; and oozing all over its limbs with poison in tiny wicked little
drops? Sometimes it does not climb but crawls on the ground, but by this
ye may always know it: It has only three fingers on its hand; that is,
only three leaflets on each stalk.
The one thing that looks like it, is the Boston Ivy, but that does not
grow in the woods, and the Poison Ivy leaf always has the little bump
and bite out on the side of the leaf as you see in the drawing.
It is known and feared for its power to sting and blister the skin when
it is handled or even touched. The sting begins with an unpleasant
itching which gets worse, especially if rubbed, until it blisters and
breaks open with sores which are very hard to heal.
The cause of the sting is a blistering oil, which is found in tiny drops
on all parts of the leaf and branches; it is a fixed oil; that is, it
will not dry up, and as long as it is on the skin, it keeps on burning
and blistering, worse and worse.
THE CURE
And this is the cure for the sting of the Demon Vine:--
Anything that will dissolve and remove oil without injuring the skin:--
Hot water, as hot as you can stand it, is good; a little salt in it
helps.
Hot soapy water is good.
Hot water with washing soda is good.
A wash of alcohol is good.
But best of all is a wash of strong alcohol in which is a little sugar
of lead as an antiseptic.
* * * * *
The Guide should remember that three persons out of five are immune from
Poison Ivy, while a few are so sensitive that they are poisoned by flies
carrying it to them on their feet. It can be easily cured if treated at
once; if neglected it often becomes very bad and may need the help of a
doctor.
This is the Eighth Secret of the Woods.
TALE 71
The Medicine in the Sky
This is one of the greatest and best secrets of Woodcraft--The Medicine
in the Sky.
Let me tell you a story about it. There was once an Indian who left his
own people, to live with the white man, in the East. But the Great
Spirit was displeased, for he did not mean the Indian to live in houses
or cities. After a year, the red man came back very thin and sick,
coughing nearly all night, instead of sleeping. He believed himself
dying.
The wise old Medicine Man of his tribe said, "You need the Medicine of
the Sky." He took it and got quite well and strong.
Another Indian, who had gone to visit with a distant tribe of red men,
came back with some sickness on his skin that made it very sore. It was
far worse than Poison Ivy, for it began to eat into his flesh. The
Medicine Man said, "Sky Medicine will cure you." And it did.
One day a white man, a trader, came with chest protectors to sell to the
Indians. He was sure they needed them, because he did; and, although so
well wrapped up, he was always cold. He suffered whenever the wind blew.
The old Medicine Man said, "We don't need your chest pads, and you would
not if you took the Sky Medicine." So the trader tried it, and by and
by, to his surprise and joy, no matter whether it was hot or cold
outdoors, he was comfortable.
This man had a friend who was a learned professor in a college, and he
told him about the great thing he had learned from the old Indian. The
professor was not old, but he was very sick and feeble in body. He could
not sleep nights. His hair was falling out, and his mind filled with
gloomy thoughts. The whole world seemed dark to him. He knew it was a
kind of disease, and he went away out West to see his friend. Then he
met the Medicine Man and said to him, "Can you help me?"
The wise old Indian said, "Oh, white man, where do you spend your days?"
"I spend them at my desk, in my study, or in the classroom."
"Yes, and your nights?"
"In my study among my books."
"And where do you sleep?"
"I don't sleep much, though I have a comfortable bed."
"In the house?"
"Yes, of course."
"Listen, then, O foolish white man. The Great Spirit set Big Medicine in
the sky to cure our ills. And you hide from it day and night. What do
you expect but evil? This do and be saved. Take the Sky Medicine in
measure of your strength."
He did so and it saved him. His strength came back. His cheeks grew
ruddy, his hands grew steady, his hair ceased falling out, he slept like
a baby. He was happy.
Now what is the Sky Medicine? It is the glorious sunlight, that cures so
many human ills. We ask every Woodcrafter to hold on to its blessings.
* * * * *
And in this wise, O Guide, you must give it to the little ones. Make it
an honourable exploit to be sunburnt to the elbows without blistering;
another to be sunburnt to the shoulders; another to the waist; and
greatest of all, when sunburnt all over. How are they to get this? Let
them go to some quiet place for the last, and let the glory fall on
their naked bodies, for ten minutes each day. Some more, and some less,
according to their strength, and this is the measure--so long as it is
pleasant, it is good.
In this way they will inherit one of the good things of the woods and be
strong and hardened, for there is no greater medicine than the Sun in
the sky.
TALE 72
The Angel of the Night
O Guide of the young Tribe! Know you the Twelfth Secret of the Woods?
Know you what walked around your tent on that thirtieth night of your
camp out? No! I think you knew, if you continued for thirty nights, but
you knew not that you knew. These things, then, you should have in
heart, and give to those you are leading.
The Great Spirit does not put out good air in the daytime and poison air
at night. It is the same pure air at night, only cooler. Therefore use
more clothing while you sleep. But while the outdoor air is pure, the
indoor may be foul. Therefore sleep out of doors, and you will learn the
blessedness of the night, and the night air, with its cooling kindly
influence laden.
Those who come here to our Camp from life in town and sleeping in close
rooms, are unaccustomed, and nervous it may be, so that they sleep
little at first. But each night brings its balm of rest. Strength comes.
Some know it in a week. The town-worn and nerve-weary find it at
farthest in half a moon. And in one full moon be sure of this, when the
night comes down you will find the blessed balm that the Great Spirit
meant for all of us. You will sleep, a calm sweet vitalizing sleep.
You will know this the twelfth secret of the woods: What walked around
your tent that thirtieth night? You know not, you heard nothing, for you
slept. Yet when the morning comes you feel and know that round your
couch, with wings and hands upraised in blessed soothing influence,
there passed the Angel of the Night, with healing under her wings, and
peace. You saw her not, you heard her not, but the sweet healing of her
presence will be with you for many after moons.
FOOTNOTES:
[C] The Guide will note that there are rare exceptions to these rules.
[D] The Guide will remember that Totemism and Tabuism were ideas which
grew up long after the use of Totems began.
THINGS TO DO
[Illustration: Nests of Kingbird, Oriole, Vireo, Robin, Goldfinch,
Phoebe (1/4 life size)]
Things to Do
TALE 73
Bird-nesting in Winter
What good are old bird-nests? These are some of the ends they serve. A
Deermouse seeking the safety of a bramble thicket and a warm house, will
make his own nest in the forsaken home of a Cat-bird. A Gray Squirrel
will roof over the open nest of a Crow or Hawk and so make it a castle
in the air for himself. But one of the strangest uses is this: The
Solitary Sandpiper is a bird that cannot build a tree nest for itself
and yet loves to give to its eggs the safety of a high place; so it lays
in the old nest of a Robin, or other tree bird, and there its young are
hatched. But this is only in the Far North. There are plenty of old
bird-nests left for other uses, and for you.
Bird-nesting in summer is wicked, cruel, and against the law. But
bird-nesting in winter is good fun and harms no one, if we take only the
little nests that are built in forked twigs, or on rock ledges. For most
little birds prefer to make a new nest for themselves each season.
If you get: A Goldfinch, floss nest;
A Phoebe, moss nest;
A Robin, mud nest;
A Vireo, good nest;
A Kingbird, rag nest;
An Oriole, bag nest;
you have six different kinds of beautiful nests that are easily kept
for the museum, and you do no harm in taking them.
TALE 74
The Ox-eye Daisy or Marguerite
[Illustration: The Ox-eye Daisy or Marguerite]
Do you know that "Daisy" means "day's eye," because the old country
Daisy opens its eyes when day comes, and shuts them every night. But our
Daisy is different and much bigger, so we have got into the way of
calling it "Ox-eye." Some of our young people call it "Love-me;
love-me-not," because they think it can tell if one is loved. They pull
out the white rays of the flower one by one, saying, "He loves me; he
loves me not; he loves me; he loves me not." Then what they are saying
as the last is pulled, settles the question. If the Daisy says "He loves
me," they take a second Daisy and ask the next question, "Will he marry
me?" Then, pulling the rays as before, "This year, next year, some time,
never." And in this way they learn all that the Daisies know about these
important matters.
We call it "our Daisy," but it is not a true native of America. Its home
is Europe. The settlers of New England, missing the flower of their
homeland, brought it over and planted it in their gardens. It spread
widely in the North; but it did not reach the South until the time of
the Civil War, when it is said to have gone in with the hay for
Sherman's Army, to become a troublesome weed in the fields.
* * * * *
This scrap of history is recorded in a popular ballad.
There's a story told in Georgia
'Tis in everybody's mouth,
That 'twas old Tecumseh Sherman
Brought the Daisy to the South.
Ne'er that little blossom stranger
In our land was known to be,
Till he marched his blue-coat army
From Atlanta to the sea.
[Illustration: The Monkeys in the Tree Tops]
TALE 75
A Monkey-hunt
We all love to go a-hunting; every one of us in some way; and it is only
the dislike of cruelty and destruction that keeps most of us from
hunting animals continually, as our forebears did.
Some of my best days were spent in hunting. The Arabs say, "Allah
reckons not against a man's allotted span the days he spends in the
chase."
I hope that I may help many of you to go a-hunting, and to get the good
things of it, with the bad things left out.
Come! Now it is the spring of the year, and just the right time for a
Monkey-hunt. We are going prowling along the brookside where we are
pretty sure of finding our game. "See, there is a Monkey tree and it is
full of the big Monkeys!"
"What! That pussy-willow?"
Yes, you think they are only pussy-willows, but wait until you see. We
shall take home a band of the Monkeys, tree and all, and you will learn
that a pussy-willow is only a baby Monkey half done.
Now let us get a branch of live elderberry and one or two limbs of the
low red sumac. It is best to use sumac because it is the only handy wood
that one can easily stick a pin through, or cut. The pieces should be
five or six inches long and about half an inch to an inch thick. They
should have as many odd features as possible, knots, bumps, fungus,
moss, etc.; all of which add interest to the picture.
To these we must add a lot of odd bits of dry cane, dry grasses, old
flower-stalks, moss, and gravel, etc., to use for background and
foreground in the little jungle we are to make for our Monkeys to play
in. It is delightful to find the new interest that all sorts of queer
weeds take on, when we view them as canes or palms for our little
jungle.
Now with the spoils of our hunt, let us go home and preserve the
trophies.
Cut off about three inches of the elderberry wood and have it clear of
knots; cut a flat ended ramrod so as just to fit the bore, and force out
the pith with one clean sharp push: or else whittle away the surrounding
wood. The latter way gives a better quality of pith.
Now take a piece of the pith about one-third the size of a big
pussy-willow, use a very sharp knife and you will find it easy to
whittle it into a Monkey's head about the shape of "a" and "b."
Use a very sharp-pointed, soft black pencil to make the eyes, nose, the
line for the mouth and the shape of the ears; or else wait till the pith
is _quite dry_, then use a fine pen with ink.
If you are skilful with the knife you may cut the ears so that they hang
as in "d."
Stick an ordinary pin right down through the crown of the head into a
big pussy-willow that will serve as a body (e). If you glue the head on
it is harder to do, but it keeps the body from being mussed up. Cut two
arms of the pith (ff) and two feet (gg), drawing the lines for the
fingers and toes, with the sharp black pencil, or else ink as before.
Cut a long, straight pointed piece of pith for a tail, dip it in boiling
water, then bend it to the right shape "h."
Cut a branch of the sumac so that it is about four inches high, and of
the style for a tree; nail this on a block of wood to make it stand.
Sometimes it is easier to bore a hole in the stand and wedge the branch
into that.
Set the Monkey on the limb by driving the pin into it as at "i," or else
glueing it on; and glue on the limbs and tail. Sometimes a little wad
of willow-down on the Monkey's crown is a great help. It hides the pin.
Now set this away for the glue to harden.
Meanwhile take an ordinary cigar box about two inches deep, line it with
white paper pasted in; or else paint it with water colour in Chinese
white. Colour the upper part sky colour; the lower, shaded into green,
getting very dark on the bottom. Lay a piece of glass or else a scrap of
an old motor-car window-isinglass on the bottom, and set in a couple of
tacks alongside to hold it; this is for a pool.
Make a mixture of liquid glue, one part; water, five parts; then stir in
enough old plaster of Paris, whitening, or even fine loam to make a soft
paste. Build banks of this paste around the pool and higher toward the
back sides. Stick the tree, with its stand and its Monkeys, in this, to
one side; dust powder or rotten wood over the ground to hide its
whiteness; or paint it with water colours.
Use all the various dry grasses, etc., to form a jungle; sticking them
in the paste, or glueing them on.
And your jungle with its Monkeys is complete.
* * * * *
Many other things may be used for Monkeys. I have seen good ones made of
peanuts, with the features inked on, and a very young black birch catkin
for tail. Beautiful birds also can be made by using a pith body and
bright feathers or silks glued on for plumes. The pith itself is easily
coloured with water colours.
You will be delighted to see what beautiful effects you can get by use
of these simple wild materials, helped with a little imagination.
And the end of the Monkey-hunt will be that you have learned a new kind
of hunting, with nothing but pleasant memories in it, and trophies to
show for proof.
[Illustration: The Horsetail and the Jungle]
TALE 76
The Horsetail and the Jungle
Long, long ago, millions of years ago, this world was much hotter than
it is now. Yes, in mid-winter it was hotter than it is now in
mid-summer. Over all Pennsylvania there were huge forests of things that
looked a little like palms, but some looked like pipes with joints, and
had wheels of branches or limb wheels at every joint. They were as tall
as some palms, and grew in swamps.
When one of those big joint-wheels fell over, it sank into the mud and
was forgotten. So at last the swamp was filled up solid with their
trunks.
Then for some unknown reason all the big joint-trees died, and the sand,
mud, and gravel levelled off the swamp. There they lay, and slowly
become blacker and harder under the mud, until they turned into coal.
That is what we burn to-day, the trunks of the wheel-jointed swamp
trees. But their youngest great-grandchild is still with us, and shows,
in its small way, what its great ancestors were like.
You will find it along some railway bank, or in any damp woods. Country
people who know it, call it Joint Grass or Horsetails; the books call it
Equisetum. The drawing will show you what to look for.
Gather a handful and take them home. Then get some of the moss known as
ground-pine, a small piece of glass (the Guide should see that the edges
of the glass are well rubbed with a stone, to prevent cutting the
fingers), a cigar box, and white paste or putty, as in the Monkey-hunt.
Make a pool with the glass, and banks around it of the paste. Now cover
these banks with the ground pine; using a little glue on the under side
of each piece, but leave an open space without moss at the back, near
the pool. Take a pointed stick and make holes through the moss into the
clay or putty, and in each hole put one of the Horsetails, cutting it
off with scissors if too tall for the top, till you have a thicket of
these stems on each side; only make more on one side than on the other.
* * * * *
Now for the grand finish. You must make an extinct monster. Get half a
walnut shell; cut a notch at one end where the neck will be; fill the
shell with putty; stick in wooden pegs for legs, tail, and head. The
central stalk of a tulip-tree fruit makes a wonderful sculptured tail;
the unopened buds of dogwood do for legs, also cloves have been used.
Any nobby stick serves for head if you make eyes and teeth on it.
When dry this makes a good extinct monster. Set it on the far bank of
the water, and you have a jungle, the old Pennsylvania jungle of the
days when the coal was packed away.
TALE 77
The Woods in Winter
Go out to the nearest chestnut tree, and get half a small burr; trim it
neatly. Fill it with putty; set four wooden pegs in this for legs, a
large peg for a head and a long thin one for a tail. On the head put two
little black pins for eyes. Now rub glue on the wooden pegs and sprinkle
them with powdered rotten wood, or fine sand, and you have a Burr
Porcupine. Sometimes carpet tacks are used for legs. You will have to
wear strong leather gloves in making this, it is so much like a real
Porcupine.
Now go into your woods and get a handful of common red cedar twigs with
leaves on, or other picturesque branches, some creeping moss of the
kind used by flower dealers to pack plants, various dried grasses, and a
few flat or sharp-cornered pebbles. Take these home. Get a cigar box or
a candy-box, some paper, clay or putty and glass, as already described
for the Monkey-hunt. Make a pond with the glass and a bank with the clay
and pebbles. Paint the top of the clay, and tops of the pebbles with the
thin glue, and also part of the glass; then sprinkle all with powdered
chalk, whitening, plaster of Paris or talcum powder for snow. Put the
Porcupine in the middle, and you have the "Woods in Winter."
TALE 78
The Fish and the Pond
[Illustration: The Fish and the Pond--and the Cone]
Go out and get the cone of a Norway Spruce tree, or a White Spruce; this
is the body of your Fish. Cut two round spots of white paper for eyes,
glue them on, and when dry, put a black ink spot in the middle of each.
Add a curved piece of paper on each side for gills. Then with an awl or
with the point of the scissors make holes in the sides, in which put
fins cut out of brown paper, fixing them in with glue. Then, with the
knife blade, make a long cut in the back, and split the tail, and in
each cut glue a thick piece of brown paper cut fin shape. When dry, draw
lines on these with ink. Now you have a good Fish.
For the pond, take a cigar-box, paint the lower quarter of it dark
green, and the upper part shaded into light blue, for sky. Glue a piece
of glass or else carwindow celluloid level across this near the bottom.
This is for water. Hide all the back and side edges of the glass with
clay banks as described in the Monkey-hunt, or with moss glued on. Put a
fine black thread to the Fish's back, another to his tail, and hang
him level above the water by fastening the threads to the top of the
box. Label it "Pond Life" or the "Fish at Home."
TALE 79
Smoke Prints of Leaves
[Illustration: Smoke Prints of Leaves]
Collect one or two leaves that have strongly marked ribs; elm and
raspberry are good ones. Take a piece of paper that is strong, but
rather soft, and about as big as this page. Grease, or oil it all over
with paint-oil, butter, or lard. Then hold it, grease-side down, in the
smoke of a candle, close to the flame, moving it about quickly so that
the paper won't burn, until it is everywhere black with soot.