"AN AWFUL ACCIDENT."
A poor fellow was lying pretty badly hurt when I came upon him one afternoon. His left leg was broken, and an artery in his right arm was cut through, while he was evidently badly burnt about the chest.
How it all happened I didn't stop to inquire—I merely looked at the steps which had already been taken to doctor him. His arm was bound up with a handkerchief "tourniquet," twisted tight with a stick, to stop the blood squirting from the artery; his leg was bound between two straight bits of wood; and his tummy was covered with a mixture of wool, oil, and flour, which suggested that with a little more roasting the patient would have made a good pie!
I need scarcely add there was not much the matter with him except that he belonged to a patrol of Boy Scouts who were practising "first aid."
In the same troop another patrol were cooking a very savoury Irish stew, mixing dough on a haversack (which, I think, is quite as good as my way of doing it inside my coat!), and baking bread in an oven made out of an old biscuit tin, and roasting "twists" made on stakes planted near the fire. (For "Tenderfoots," anxious for details as to how these things are done, I recommend a study of the chapter on camp cooking in Scouting for Boys.)
The point about this cooking was that the food was being really well cooked, and fit for anyone to eat with enjoyment.
In the same troop signallers were at work sending and receiving messages. And also one of their horsemen was there to act as mounted dispatch rider, with a smart pony which he was able to saddle and look after as well as to ride. Nearly every Scout in this troop was a First Class Scout, of an average age of thirteen.
Two hundred yards from their little camp was another troop of younger Scouts, of about eleven years of age. All were busy cooking their teas at numerous little camp fires at the time when I saw them, and made a most picturesque scene.
Then a third troop had its camp in a different spot, where three patrols of boys of about fifteen years of age were collected. Fine, strapping, long-limbed types of Britons. It was a pleasure to see them going "Scout pace" across the grass, and a still greater pleasure when I found that they were as good Scouts as they looked. Nearly all were First Class Scouts. I was invited to hand out to them the Efficiency Badges they had been winning.
These included quite a number of First Class, Cyclists', Firemen's,
Musicians', Electricians', Cooks', etc.