288 



THE GUIDE TO NATURE 



the occurrence to headquarters, and 

 scouts would have accompanied the po- 

 lice and those that released the wild 

 animal. 



In the town of Greenwich a fox with 

 five little foxes was captured. This 

 was a rare subject but not more than a 

 dozen people saw that mother and the 

 little foxes. What was done with them 

 the Scout Naturalist does not know. 

 There should have been a system by 

 which such information could be 

 promptly obtained and as definite and 

 careful as that of the city editor of a 

 newspaper who makes an assignment 

 to the reporter as soon as even a stray 

 bit of information reaches the office. 

 Observations of Scouts should not be 

 limited to nature. It should be infor- 

 mation as definitely obtained as a mili- 

 tary scout or a reporter obtains his. 

 This applies to a multitude of things — 

 some new and wonderful piece of ma- 

 chinery has been installed ; somebody 

 has obtained an unusual object ; a 

 woodchopper reports an unusual dis- 

 covery in the woods ; somebody reports 

 that a deer has been devastating some- 

 body's garden, and yet no one seems 

 to know definitely whether the report 

 is correct or not, or to what extent the 

 garden has been injured. The Scout 

 Naturalist urges the Scouts of every 

 community to appoint specially detail- 

 ed Scouts from all the Troops in the 

 vicinity for this very purpose. They 

 should obtain full details and return to 

 headquarters as early as possible, so 

 that the information may be made 

 known for the good of all. 



Perpetual Youth in the Woods. 



In the woods, too, a man casts off 

 his years, as the snake his slough, and 

 at what period soever of life, is always 

 a child. In the woods is perpetual 

 youth. Within these plantations of 

 God, a decorum and sancity reign, a 

 perennial festival is dressed, and the 

 guest sees not how he should tire of 

 'them in a thousand years. In the 

 woods, we return to reason and faith. — 

 Emerson. 



Nature's Appeal Nowadays. 

 In this latitude, in the winter months, 

 nature's particular appeal is to our ap- 

 preciation of the beautiful ; the lone- 

 some tree with its bare branches, the 

 solitary gull against the storm clouds, 

 the blue of the sunlight on the snow, 

 the warmth and purple of the ever 

 changing sunsets, the frozen streams 

 and sparkling ice crystals, the glory 

 and wonder of the stars. Winter pos- 

 sesses two things which the other sea- 

 sons have not, space and simplicity. 

 The super-abundance of confusing 

 forms, and sounds, and color has so 

 diminished that what we see or hear or 

 feel makes fewer but more lasting im- 

 pressions. Plant life is dormant and 

 only the warm blooded animals, the 

 birds, the squirrels, the rabbits, the 

 weasels, the minks and the foxes are 

 abroad. — Park Museum Bulletin. Pro- 

 vidence, R. I. 



About three hundred thousand acres 

 in Utah is to be set aside for wild life 

 sanctuaries. Each county in the state 

 is to have two tracts, one for birds onlv, 

 the other for upland birds, game birds 

 and mammals. 



The Campfire. 



BY EDWARD A. C. MURPHY, WABANAKI, GREEN- 

 WICH, CONNECTICUT. 

 I. 



When the golden sun has tumbled o'er the 



western hills, 

 And the screech-owl's distant hooting all 



the valley fills, 

 When we gather by the great oak 

 That stands guard above the mill, 

 Then the campfire through the darkness 



shines, 

 A beacon on the hill. 



II. 

 When we wrap in blankets sitting cross- 

 legged on the ground, 

 And our story-teller rises, silence is pro- 

 found 

 As he tells his tales of terror 

 Gives us many a welcome thrill. 

 While the campfire glowing, sparkling 



shines 

 A beacon on the hill. 



III. 



When we've left the magic circle, after many 



a hearty song, 

 And the bugle's warning "tent-call" tells 



the day is gone, 

 When the call of "taps" has sounded 

 And the camp is still, 



Then the campfire growing dimmer shines 

 A beacon on the hill. 



IV. 



When summer's gone and autumn's come 



to end these happy days, 

 And the call of home and duty brings the 



parting of our ways, 

 Then our thoughts around home fires 

 Bring us back to camp, until 

 We can see the yellow campfire shine 

 A beacon on the hill. 



