When splitting wood for the fire or kindling, make the first blow as in Fig. 346, and the second blow in the same place, but a trifle slanting as in Fig. 347; the slanting blow wedges the wood apart and splits it. If the wood is small and splits readily, the slanting blow may be made first. These things can only be indicated to the readers because there are so many circumstances which govern the case. If there is a knot in the wood, strike the axe right over the knot as in Figs. 348 and 349.
If you are chopping across the grain do not strike perpendicularly as in Fig. 350, because if the wood is hard the axe will simply bounce back, but strike a slanting blow as in Fig. 351, and the axe blade will bite deeply into the wood; again let us caution you that if you put too much of a slant on your axe in striking the wood, it will cut out a shallow chip without materially impeding the force of the blow, and your axe will swing around to the peril of yourself or anyone else within reach; again this is a thing which you must learn to practice.
In using the chopping block be very careful not to put a log in front of the crotch as in Fig. 340, and then strike a heavy blow with the axe, for the reason that if you split the wood with the first blow your axe handle will come down heavily and suddenly upon the front log, and no matter how good a handle it may be, it will break into fragments, as the writer has discovered by sad experience. A lost axe handle in the woods is a severe loss, and one to be avoided, for although a makeshift handle may be fashioned at camp, it never answers the purpose as well as the skillfully and artistically made handle which comes with the axe.
Select two saplings about five inches in diameter at the butts, bore holes near the butts about six inches from the end for legs, make a couple of stout legs about the size of an old-fashioned drey pin, and about twenty inches long, split the ends carefully, sufficiently to insert wedges therein, then drive the wedge and ends into the hole bored for the purpose. When the sticks are driven home the wedge will hold them in place. You now have a couple of "straddle bugs," that is, poles, the small ends of which rest upon the ground and the butt ends supported by two legs. In the top of the poles bore a number of holes for pins, make your pins a little longer than the diameter of the log you intend to saw; the pins are used exactly like the old-fashioned drey pins, that is, you roll the log up the incline to the two straddle bugs and hold the logs in place by putting pins in the nearest holes. Of course, the pins should work easily in and out of the holes (Fig. 357).
With such an arrangement one man can unaided easily roll a log two feet in diameter up upon the buck; the log is then in a position to be cut up with a cross-cut saw (Fig. 357). Another form of sawbuck may be made of a puncheon stool (Fig. 358), with holes bored diagonally in the top for the insertion of pins with which to hold the log in place while it is being sawed. But with this sawbuck one cannot use as heavy logs as with the first one because of the difficulty in handling them.
I have just returned from a trip up into the woods where they still use the primitive pioneer methods of handling and cutting timber, and I note up there in Pike County, Pennsylvania, they make the sawbuck for logs by using a log of wood about a foot in diameter and boring holes diagonally through the log near each end (Fig. 359); through these holes they drive the legs so that the ends of them protrude at the top and form a crotch to hold the wood to be sawed. The sawbuck is about ten or twelve feet long; consequently, in order to provide for shorter logs there are two sets of pegs driven in holes bored for the purpose between the ends of the buck.
When one person is handling a heavy log it is sometimes difficult, even with the lumberman's canthook, to roll it, but if a loop is made in a rope and placed over a stump or a heavy stone (Fig. 360), and the ends run under the log, even a boy can roll quite a heavy piece of timber by pulling on the ends of the rope (Fig. 360).
The method used by all woodsmen in splitting a log is the same as used by quarrymen in splitting bluestone, with this difference: the quarryman hunts for a natural seam in the stone and drives the wedge in the seam, while the lumberman makes a seam in the form of a crack in the log by a blow from his axe. In the crack he drives the wedge (Figs. 352 and 353). But if the log is a long one he must lengthen the crack or seam by driving other wedges or gluts (Fig. 353), or he may do it by using two or more axes (Fig. 352).
If he wishes to split the logs up into shakes, clapboards or splits, he first halves the log, that is, splitting it across from A to B (Fig. 356), and then quarters it by splitting from C to D, and so on until he has the splits of the required size.
In the olden times, the good old times, when people did things with their own hands, and thus acquired great skill with the use of their hands, boards were sawed out from the logs by placing the log on a scaffolding over a sawpit (Fig. 361).
In the good old times, the slow old times, the safe old times, a house was not built in a week or a month; the timber was well seasoned, well selected, and in many cases such houses are standing to-day! On the next block where I live and from where I am writing, and across the street, there stands a house still occupied which was built in 1661. It is the house that Fox, the Quaker, was quartered in when he was preaching under the spreading oaks on Long Island. The timbers of this house are still sound and strong, although the woodwork in nearby modern houses is decaying.
In the mountains of Kentucky and Tennessee they still use the sawpit, and the logs are held in place by jacks (Fig. 355), which are branches of trees hooked over the log and the longest fork of the branch is then sprung under the supporting cross-piece (Fig. 361).
Of course, the boy readers of this book are not going to be top sawyers or make use of a sawpit; that is a real man's work, a big He man's work, but the boys of to-day should know all these things; it is part of history and they can better understand the history of our own country when they know how laboriously, cheerily and cheerfully their ancestors worked to build their own homesteads, and in the building of their own homesteads they unconsciously built that character of which their descendants are so proud; also they built up a physique that was healthy, and a sturdy body for which their descendants are particularly thankful, because good health and good physique are hereditary, that is, boys, if your parents, your grandparents and your great grandparents were all healthy, wholesome people, you started your life as a healthy, wholesome child.
In this chapter the writer has emphasized the danger of edged tools for beginners, but he did that to make them careful in the use of the axe, not to discourage them in acquiring skill with it. We must remember that there is nothing in life that is not dangerous, and the greatest danger of all is not firearms, is not edged tools, is not wild beasts, is not tornadoes or earthquakes, avalanches or floods, but it is Luxury; expressed in boy language, it is ice cream, soda water, candy, servants and automobiles; it is everything which tends to make a boy dependent upon others and soft in mind and muscle and to make him a sissy. But hardship, in the sense of undergoing privation and doing hard work like chopping trees and sawing logs, makes a rugged body, a clean, healthy mind, and gives long life. So, boys, don't be afraid to build your own little shack, shanty or shelter, to chop the kindling wood for your mother, to split up logs for the fun of doing it, or just to show that you know how. Don't be afraid to be a real pioneer so that you may grow up to be a real Abe Lincoln!
If I am talking to men, they need no detailed definition of luxury; they know all about it, its cause and its effect; they also know that luxury kills a race and hardship preserves a race. The American boy should be taught to love hardship for hardship's sake, and then the Americans as a race will be a success, and a lasting one.
Now that we have learned about the serious part of camping, hiking and woodcraft, about fire-building, cooking and axe work, we will leave the long trail and the hard trail and dump our duffel bag in a recreation camp, a Boy Scout camp, a Y.M.C.A. camp, or a school camp, and after we have pitched our tent and arranged our cot to suit our own convenience and everything is ship-shape for the night, it is time for us to get busy on our "good turn" and do something for the crowd.
Like the great Boy Scout Movement, the council fire is also a product of America. The council fires were burning all over this land when Columbus discovered America. It was around the council fires that the Indians gathered in solemn conclave to consult and discuss the affairs of their tribes.
Originally the council ground was surrounded by a palisade; that is, the fire was in the center of a circular fort. Around this fire the old men of the tribe made their eloquent addresses; also around this fire the warriors danced the scalp dance, the corn dance, the buffalo dance, and all their various religious dances.
Later the Cherokee Indians changed the council fire into a barbecue, where they roasted whole beefs in pits of glowing coals. This custom was adopted by the politicians in Kentucky, and the Kentucky barbecues became very famous; they were what might be called a by-product of the old Indian council fires and a European feast combined. But in 1799 the old Indian council fires became camp meetings, and around the blazing fagots the pioneers gathered to engage in religious revivals. It was at one of these meetings that Daniel Boone's great friend, Simon Kenton, was converted and became a Methodist.
The camp meetings were originated by two brothers by the name of McGee. Bill McGee was a Presbyterian, and John McGee a Methodist minister. They came to Kentucky from West Tennessee. John McGee was such a great backwoods preacher (a pioneer Billy Sunday) that he drew immense crowds of buckskin-clad men, each of whom carried a cow's horn powder flask and a long barreled rifle.
The small buildings used for churches in the pioneer settlements could not hold the crowd, so they gathered around blazing council fires, and from this beginning came the great religious revival which swept the border with a wave of religious enthusiasm.
It is a far call back to the old Indian council fire, and the blazing council fires of the pioneer camp meetings, but to-day all over this land we are holding similar council fires, many of them conducted with much ceremony, and not a few with religious fervor. The summer hotels have their council fires; the great Camp Fire Club of America, composed of all the famous big game hunters, have lately bought a tract of land for the purpose of holding their council fires in the open, and the writer interrupted the writing of this chapter to attend one of the club's council fires. The military schools are holding council fires, and everywhere the Boy Scouts have their council fires blazing; even the girls have fallen in line, and this is as it should be. Therefore it is time that some regular plan was made for these assemblies, and some suggestion of ceremony and some meaning given to the council grounds.
We have searched the legends of the Red Man for suggestions, and from various sources have learned that the Indian had a general belief that at the north there is a yellow or black mountain, at the east there is a white mountain of light, at the south there is a red mountain, and at the west there is a blue mountain. At the east and west there are also holes in the sky, through which the sun comes to light us by day, and through which the sun disappears so that we may sleep by night. That is news to most of my readers, but not to the Red Men.
In the "Dawn of the World," Dr. C. Hart Merriam gives a collection of "The Myths and Weird Tales told by the Mewan Indians of California," which are full of poetry and suggestions useful for the council fire work.
It seems that when the white-footed mouse man, and some other of the animal people, were trying to steal the sun, or the fire from which the sun was made, the robin man, Wit-tab-bah, suspected these visitors to be sort of German spies, and so he hovered over the fire, spreading his wings and tail to protect it. Now if you don't believe this you look at the robin's breast and you will see that he still carries the red marks of the fire, which is proof enough for anyone; hence we will give the fire-keeper for our council the name of Wit-tab-bah, the robin.
Since the north is presided over by the totem of the mountain lion, or panther, we will give the officer occupying that court the Indian name of the mountain lion, He-le-jah. The totem of the east is the white timber wolf, Too-le-ze; the color of that court is white, representing light. The totem of the south court is the badger; the color is red and the Indian name is Too-winks. The color of the west court is blue and the totem is the bear; Kor-le is the Indian name of the bear, and the title of the officer presiding over the blue totem.
The golden or yellow court is the throne of the presiding officer, the scoutmaster of the troop, the headmaster of the school, the gangmaster of your gang, the campmaster of your camp, or the captain of your team. The second in command occupies the white court, the third the red court, and the fourth the blue court. If your council is a military school the commandant occupies the yellow court, the lieutenant-colonel the white court, the major the red court and the first captain the blue court. Now that you have that straight in your heads we will proceed to lay out the court.
The author is aware of the fact that the general reader may be more interested in scout camping, summer camping, and recreation camps than in real wilderness work, but he has tried to impress upon the boys and girls, too, for that matter, the fact that the knowledge of real wilderness work will make even the near-at-home camping easier for them, and very much more interesting; it will also cause them to enjoy the council fire better and have a greater appreciation for everything pertaining to outdoor life. The wilderness campfire over which the solitary explorer or hunter hovers, or around which a group of hunters assemble and spin their yarns, magnified and enlarged to a big blazing fire becomes the council fire around which gather all the members of a recreation camp, the pupils of an outdoor school, a troop or many troops of Boy Scouts; therefore we have given the council fire serious study, because the most inconvenient as well as the most romantic place to talk is at
There could be no more impractical plan for a place to speak than a circle with a big fire in the middle of it, and that is the plan of all the council grounds. The audience must be seated on the circumference of the circle, and the Master of Ceremonies must stand necessarily with his face to the fire and his back to part of his audience, or his back to the fire and consequently also to the part of the audience on the other side of the fire. Having had occasion over and over again to address the scouts at a council fire, the writer has had all the discomforts impressed upon him many times. As a rule, the boys are enthusiastic, and so are the men, and the enthusiasm is most often displayed by the size of the fire; the bigger the fire the greater the delight of the boys and the more difficult the position of the orator or Master of Ceremonies. All this may be overcome, however, if in place of a circle the council grounds are laid out in an oval or an ellipse, and the fire-place located near one end of the ellipse (Fig. 371).
After you have decided upon the size of your council grounds, drive two stakes A and B (Figs. 363 and 365) firmly into the ground; then take a cord, clothesline, or some kind of twine (Fig. 362), and tie the ends together, thus forming a loop (Fig. 363); put the loop over the two stakes A and B; next make a marker stake C (Fig. 366), and with it draw the slack of the line taut as in Fig. 364. The ellipse is marked out as in Fig. 365. This is done by taking firm hold of the top of the stake and using care to keep the line taut while the marker walks around the ground scratching the earth with the point of the marking stick, and allowing the cord to slip smoothly across the stick while the marking is being done (Fig. 364).
An ellipse might be called a flattened circle. If you take a tin can and press the two sides of the open end of it inwards, it will form an ellipse. The dictionary says that an ellipse is a conic which does not extend to infinity and whose intersections with the line of infinity are imaginary. Now that is a very lucid explanation! I hope you understand it, it is so simple, but it is just like a dictionary to say such terrible things about a harmless ellipse. To tell the truth, I thought I knew all about an ellipse until I read this explanation; but never mind, we know what it looks like and if we do not know what it is, we do know that there are a lot of things besides ellipses that do not extend to infinity, and we also know that an ellipse is a practical form for a council fire in spite of the hard names the dictionary calls it. This oval is really shaped like the body of a theatre and it gives the audience a chance to see what is doing on the stage, and the people on the stage a chance to see and address the audience.
This infinity talk has suggested to us a good idea, so we must thank our highbrow dictionary while we lay our council ground out with the major axis (the longest diameter) extending due north and south, and the minor axis (the shortest diameter) extending due east and west, like any other well regulated council or lodge, and we will put the fire-place near the southern end S (Fig. 371), while around the ellipse we will arrange the seats, which may be of logs or stumps or sections of logs set up on end, as I used in one of my camps, or the seats may be rough plank benches, or they may be ponchos spread upon the ground with the shiny side down to keep the dampness from the audience as it squats tailor-fashion upon the ponchos.
In the diagram (Fig. 370), the staff is short, but it should be long enough to place the torch as high above the ground as a chandelier is above the floor at home. Fig. 372 shows the method of piling up the wood for the council fire. The kindling wood is first placed upon the ground ready to light at a moment's notice; over that the heavy wood is piled, as shown in the diagram. This fire should never be lighted with a match; that is terrible bad form. The use of flint and steel or a rubbing stick to make fire is the proper ceremony for such occasions.
Fig. 374 shows how to make a fire box of sticks. This is an aeroplane view of a fire box, that is, a view from above, looking down upon it. This box should be filled with sand, clay or dirt, upon which the fire is built. Fig. 375 and Fig. 376 show you how to lash the framework together. Fig. 377 shows how to put up the framework. Fig. 369 is the finished torch.
The idea of this torch is to have the light above the heads of the campers. The trouble with a fire upon the ground is that while the flames give light they also hide part of the crowd, and the smoke is always in someone's face. This elevated torch is a brand new idea for this purpose. It will be adopted all over the country and credited to all sorts of sources and people, but you must remember that it was designed for the readers of this book.
If milled lumber is used in building the shacks for the four courts, it should be camouflaged with paint or stain so as to look rustic. It may be roofed with boards and the boards covered with tar paper, or any of the modern roofing materials to be had, but in that case the roof should be camouflaged by laying poles over the top of it, or, if poles are not available, covering the top with sods.
You see the idea is this: we are having a Council Fire—not something else—and we want the thing to look wild and rustic because that is part of the game, and if we are compelled to go to the lumberyard for our material, which most of us will have to do, then we must conceal this fact as far as possible by camouflage. In front of the South Court on Fig. 371 is the fire-place made of flat stones set in the earth.
On entering the council grounds always enter from the east, salute Too-le-ze, the white wolf, then go across the Ghost Walk with the sun to the West Court, and salute Kor-le, the bear; about face and march back to the South Court and salute Too-winks, the badger; then about face and march up and salute He-le-jah, the panther; remain standing at salute until He-le-jah who is the commanding officer, gives you permission to retire, or gives you orders what to do; then go back, always moving along these walks like a soldier, to your seat.
On Sundays the council ground is a splendid place for holding religious services. On such occasions the minister sits in the Court of Knowledge, the North Court on the right-hand side of the presiding officer, and the two torches in the daytime are replaced by flags or banners. The one on the right-hand side of the presiding officer must be Old Glory, the one on the left the flag of the school, the troop or the club to which the council fire belongs.
The center of the council fire may be occupied by a "Liberty Pole," which is the good old American name for the flag pole, from which Old Glory flies. Never forget to respect the colors and greet them with the greatest ceremonial deference, for those colors possess a magic quality; they represent to you everything that is grand, noble and inspiring, and if you have any other kind of thoughts, this country is no place for you. Remember that the council fire is American, and we are proud to be called Americans.
The walk, or path from the east to the west is the Ghost Walk, or the Spirit's Walk; it is the path which Indians believe the spirit takes after leaving the body, an idea which was consciously or unconsciously adopted by our brave boys during the recent war and it explains what they meant when, with bowed heads, they reported that their bunky, pal or friend had "gone West."
The Western Court has the totem animal of the black bear; the color of the court, however, is not black but blue, blue from the blue Pacific; the totem object is a blue mountain.
The walk from the south to the north is the Path of Knowledge; anyone traveling that trail is seeking further knowledge of the benefits of woodcraft, nature and the big outdoors; the totem animal of the North Court is the American panther, cougar or mountain lion; the color of the North Court is yellow or black, the latter representing the long arctic night.
The Southern Court has the badger for its totem animal, and the red mountain for the totem object; red is its totem color.
Thus we have white for the totem color of the east, meaning light, peace and purity; red for the south, meaning violence, disturbance, auction, danger, revolution, love and life. This color is both stimulating and disturbing to man, animal and plant.
Perhaps when we read of the turmoil that is constantly disturbing our southern border, we may think that the Indians had a knowledge of the real meaning of red when they made the totem of the south a red mountain. Red is the ruling color, the king of color, the dominant color, the strong color, and symbolizes the blossoming of plants and is the color of berries and fruit. Red tints the spring leaves and stains the fall leaf. In the spring the thickets and tree trunks are tinged with red; they are blushing, so to speak, as Ruskin says, "in order to show the waiting of love." Red is emphatically a masculine color, a Man's Color.
Blue is a feminine color; it stands for sentimental affections, blue light has a depressing effect and creates nervousness.
Black is the ogre among colors; it devours every other color; sometimes the North Court is black; black stands for war and death, and yet the path to the north is the path of knowledge. It may be that some of the Indians used black for the north because they may have noted that climate affects the color of birds and animals. According to Frank Chapman, the famous ornithologist at the Museum of Natural History in New York, the animals of the humid climate of the northwest are especially dark in color.
If you use yellow for the north color, yellow means laughter and mirth. Notwithstanding the fact that we use yellow as a sign for contagious disease, women suffragists and cowardice, a yellow light makes a gathering cheerful and merry; so in approaching the North Court you may sing.
The Indian names for the four courts are Too-le-ze, the east, for the south Too-winks, for the west Kor-le, and for the north Kon-win. He-le-jah is the Indian name for the panther or mountain lion that guards the north mountain.
Now then you have the symbolism; in other words, know what these things stand for, and that will give a meaning to your ceremony around the council fire. Since red means life and black means death, possibly the Indians have placed a deep significance on the path from the Red Court to the Black Court, from life to death! when they call it the Path of Knowledge. At any rate, we will take it as we find it and adapt ourselves to the suggestions these meanings give us.
We will claim that colors are the spirits, fairies or what not who govern the council fire. Wit-tab-bah is the name of the fire itself or the fire-place. When the fire is built, placed near the Southern or Red Court, it gives the chief, the captain, the superintendent, or the scoutmaster, who occupies the North Court, a space in front of him big enough to accommodate his audience. The real way to illuminate, or light up, the council grounds is by having
Erected at each of the four courts. These fire torches at the four courts, if kept replenished with dry wood, will light up the council grounds and give a most picturesque and wild appearance, and at the same time will not interfere with the ceremonies nor will they scorch the back or face of the speaker. Wit-tab-bah may be used on occasions when the crowd is not large.
No council fire anywhere within the borders of the United States should open without the pledge to the American flag, and the reciting in unison by all present of the American creed. (See page 268.)
The council should close with the singing of "America." Especially should these ceremonies be gone through with when the assembly is composed of many young people, because what George Washington said in his farewell address is as true to-day as it was a hundred years ago.
"Against the insidious wiles of foreign influences I conjure you to believe me, fellow citizens, the jealousy of a free people ought to be constantly awake, since history and experience prove that foreign influence is one of the most powerful foes of republican government."
There is no reason why we should not have a lot of fun at the council fires, and at times it may even be riotous fun, but always American fun, and the patriotic spirit should never for a moment be forgotten, nor yet the poetic spirit which links us up in bonds of sympathy with all created things so that we may, with seriousness, recite the
[F] From unpublished verses by Captain Harry Beard.
The ceremonies of the Council Fire may be conducted with the accompaniment of pageantry to any extent desirable. At the Council Fire of the Dan Beard Outdoor School, the officers dress in costume; not masquerade costumes but the real ones. The Man of the North, who attends to the Northern Lights, is garbed in the blanket clothes of a northern lumberman and carries an axe. The Man of the East, who attends the fire where the sun maidens dwell, may be arrayed in the clothes of one of our Pilgrim fathers. The Man of the West, who attends the fire of the Blue Mountain, is decked in the fringed buckskin clothes of the trapper, plainsman, or mountaineer. The Man of the South, who guards the fire of the Red Mountain, is dressed in the picturesque costume of a Mexican with a high-crowned sombrero. The seats of the different courts are draped with the colors of the courts.
The guests enter and take their seats, then the Herald enters dressed in the costume of a scout, a frontiersman, or a medicine man, according to the plan of the particular Council Fire. The Herald faces the north from his stand in the center of the council ground and blows assembly call, or a blast on a cow's horn, then wheels about and faces the east, then the south and then the west, and at each he blows assembly. With the last notes and the last call the Scouts, Woodcrafters, Pioneers or students enter the circle, marching single-file around until the circle is complete, and they stand opposite where they are to sit. The Herald now blows a fanfare and the officers march into the council ground with the colors and the color guard. The officers group themselves around their Chief, the Scout Executive, the Scout Commissioner, the Headmaster or the man in authority at the North Court.
The Leader, or head officer, steps forward and throwing both hands up in a gesture of appeal, in which he is imitated by the assembly, he repeats:
Then he cries:
The Men of the North, East, West and South, now step in front of the Chief, and he directs them to
The Color Guard now enters, marches up to in front of the officers and all stand at salute. The Color Guard with colors about faces and the guests and all present recite in unison: