He had to know which plants were good to eat and which were poisonous. He had to build himself a hut to live in, well hidden.
From boy to man among the Zul us we have the Urn- Fan (mat boy), the young warrior, and the Ring-Kop veteran.
He had to take care that wherever he went he left no foot tracks by which he could be followed up.
For a month he had to live this life, sometimes in burning heat, sometimes in cold and rain.
When at last the white stain had worn off, he was permitted to return to his village. He was then received with great joy, and was allowed to take his place among the young warriors of the tribe. He had proved that he was able to look after himself.
In South America the boys of the Yaghan tribe—down in the cold, rainy regions of Patagonia—also undergo a test of pluck before they are allowed to consider themselves men. For this test the boy must drive a spear deep into his thigh and smile all the time in spite of the pain.
It is a cruel test, but it shows that these savages understand how necessary it is that boys should be trained to manliness and not be allowed to drift into being poor-spirited wasters who can only look on at men’s work.
The ancient British boys received similar training before they were considered men.
If every boy works hard at Scouting he will, at the end of it, have some claim to call himself a Scout and a man, and will find that he will have no difficulty in looking after himself.
Training for the Backwoods
An old Canadian scout and trapper, over eighty years of age, Bill Hamilton, once wrote a book called My Sixty Years in the Plains describing the
dangers of the adventurous life of the early pioneer:
“I have often been asked,” Hamilton wrote, “why we exposed ourselves to such dangers? My answer has always been that there was a charm in the open-air life of a scout from which one cannot free himself after he has once come under its spell. Give me the man who has been raised among the great things of nature. He cultivates truth, independence, and self-reliance. He has generous impulses. He is true to his friends, and true to the flag of his country.”
The Cub looks up to the Boy Scout, and the Boy
Scout looks up to the Old Scout or pioneer.
I can fully endorse what this old scout has said, and, what is more, I find that those men who come from the farthest frontiers—from what we should call a rude and savage life—are among the most generous and chivalrous of their race, especially toward women and weaker folk. They become “gentle men” by their contact with nature.
“Play Hard—Work Hard”
Theodore Roosevelt, President of the United States of America (1901-1909), also believed in outdoor life. When returning from his hunting trip in East Africa he inspected some Boy Scouts in London, and expressed great admiration for them. He wrote:— “I believe in outdoor games,
and I do not mind in the least that they are rough games, or that those who take part in them are occasionally injured. I have no sympathy with the overwrought sentiment which would keep a young man in cotton-wool. The out-of-doors man must always prove the better in life’s contest. When you play, play hard; and when you work, work hard. But do not let your play and your sport interfere with your study.”
I knew an old colonist who, after the South African War, said that he could not live in the country with the British, because when they arrived in the country they were so “stom”, as he called it—that is, so utterly stupid when living on the veldt (the plains of South Africa) that they did not now how to look after themselves, to make themselves comfortable in camp, to kill their food or to cook it, and they were always losing their way in the bush. He admitted that after six months or so many of them learned to manage for themselves fairly well if they lived so long,
but many of them died.
Learn to Look after Yourself
The truth is that men brought up in a civilized country have no training whatever in looking after themselves out on the veldt or plains, or in the backwoods. The consequence is that when they go into wild country they are for a long time perfectly helpless, and go through a lot of hardship and trouble which would not occur if they learned, while boys, to look after themselves in camp. They are just a lot of “tenderfoots”.
They have never had to light a fire or to cook their own food—that has always been done for them. At home when they wanted water, they merely had to turn on the tap—therefore they had no idea of how to set about finding water in a desert place by looking at the grass, or bush, or by scratching at the sand till they found signs of dampness. If they lost their way, or did not know the time, they merely had to ask somebody else. They had always had houses to shelter them, and beds to lie in. They had never had to make them for themselves, nor to make or repair their own boots or clothing.
That is why a “tenderfoot” often has a tough time in camp. But living in camp for a Scout who knows the game is a simple matter. He knows how to make himself comfortable in a thousand small ways, and then, when he does come back to civilization, he enjoys it all the more for
having seen the contrast.
The trained backwoodsman knows the ways of the woods.
He can make hi mself comfor table in a thousand small ways.
And even there, in the city, he can do very much more for himself than the ordinary mortal, who has never really learned to provide for his own wants. The man who has to turn his hand to many things, as the Scout does in camp, finds that when he comes into civilization he is more easily able to obtain employment, because he is ready for
whatever kind of work may turn up.
Exploration
