If you are climbing down from the top, which I hope you won’t do often, turn your face to the cliff; and beware of a slope that gets steeper as you go down.
Never go up a crumbling cliff higher than you care to fall; and don’t trust a stone embedded in earth so that you can’t see its real shape. And above all things don’t have anyone climbing above you, or climb above anyone else; that is the very worst thing you can do. I was nearer death once in a quarry in the Cotswolds than I ever was in the Great War, through a friend up above sending down a big piece of rock—and all for a few Jackdaws’ eggs!
Ruins are not so treacherous as rocks, and it is easier to judge distances from below by the size of the stones, but they make very nasty climbing for all that. You generally have only fingers and toes to support you, and on a perpendicular face it’s a case of one slip and down you go, with generally a heap of loose stones to land on. So let them alone if you can, and if you can’t, be cautious.
There is just one time when you may try fancy tricks on a cliff or wall-face; and that is when you are certain to fall into deep water, always supposing you can swim, of course.
Have nothing to do with ropes, unless you are with a man who really understands the business.
$ 6. WHAT NOT TO DO.
“Don’t” is a word schoolboys hear far too much of, but it has figured in all good advice since the Ten Commandments, and you must forgive me for using it rather freely here. I am going to tell you your duty towards the birds, the farmer, the keeper, and yourself.
Birds.—Your duty towards the birds is to upset them as little as possible. Most of them are afraid of you to start with, but try not to make matters any worse. Therefore—
Don’t take more than one egg as a rule. No collection wants two eggs of the same type, though you may have a score of different Blackbirds’ eggs, say, and still have hopes of a new variety. But when the bird only lays two eggs, leave them if she has begun to sit, and take them both if they are fresh; for then she will soon lay again, and it is hardly fair to make her spend all her time on bringing up a single chick. And how dull it must be for the young one!
Of course if you found the famous clutch of 18 Blue-tits’ eggs in a small hole it would be your duty to take about half of them, and save that family from the horrors of the Black Hole of Calcutta, for most of them would be smothered for certain.
Don’t take an egg that is nearly hatched, for you will never get it blown decently. You can tell if most light-coloured eggs are fresh, by simply holding them up to the light, when you can see the yolk shining through; but the unfailing test is to put the egg into water. A fresh egg lies flat at the bottom, but as hatching goes on an air-bubble forms at the broad end, which gets bigger and bigger as the chick develops; and in a few days the egg will stand on its point at the bottom, then it rises to the top, and the longer it has been sat upon the more of it shows above the water. If it only floats like a sponge, just touching the surface, you can blow it easily. In marshy ground, or even in a damp ditch, you can often get enough water to test an egg by simply digging your heel well in, when the hole you have made will soon fill. If the one you try is very far gone, you may as well test them all. If there is an addled egg it may float, but will not bob up like the others.
Don’t think that a nest is deserted simply because the eggs in it are cold. They always are cold until the bird has laid her full number. If she started to sit before, the young ones would all hatch on different days, which would never do.
Don’t disturb a nest more than is absolutely necessary or you may make the bird desert. And when you go to a nest try to make no tracks, or at least hide them as much as possible before you leave, and see that the nest is as well covered up as it can be; for the next person who comes along may not know his duty towards the birds, and anyhow you don’t want to help him to find your nests.
Always remember that the birds are giving you no end of a lot of fun, and it is only playing the game to help them when you get the chance, and at least to do as little harm as you possibly can.
The Farmer.—Your duty towards the farmer is to give him as little annoyance as possible (and he is easily annoyed).
Don’t let him see you on his land. If you are any good at scouting you should generally be able to manage this; and even if he is a friend you don’t want him to think you are never off his land, or he will soon begin to think you a nuisance.
Don’t disturb his sheep at lambing time.
Don’t leave his gates open and let the stock out into the high road or into the young crops.
Don’t break down his fences. It is just as easy to test the strength of a rail before you put your weight on it as it is to make sure of a branch at the top of a tree. If you should bring one down, try and fix it up again, and always put back any stones you may knock down in climbing a wall. And remember that the best place to climb a gate is as near the hinges as possible.
Don’t walk through standing corn or hay; there is always room for one at a time along the hedge side.
There is a big difference between simple trespassing, for which you can be turned off a man’s land, and trespassing and doing damage, for which you can be prosecuted.
The Keeper.—Your duty towards the game keeper is to be friends if you can; but it will generally be more than you can manage to make even a neutral of him. He is much more likely to class all boys as “vermin,” and act accordingly.
If it is peace, he is the man to tell you how to know the signs of the woods and the ways of the wild things in them; and what he says about the bigger birds is generally true, though he is not always very learned in the smaller ones.
If it is war, you must keep out of his way as much as you can, and take care that if you do meet him he has as little as possible to grumble at.
First of all, don’t let him catch you on his beat. This means more scouting, and rather more difficult. Of course if you see him crossing the fields on his way home to tea you know where you have him for an hour or so, and that is the time for any special place you want to visit. But you will not often know where he is, and if you don’t want him to know where you are, the most important thing is to make no noise, whether with your voice or your movements, or by setting a whole lot of Woodpigeons crashing out of the trees. Then if you stick to the hedges in going across country you will be hidden on one side, and much less conspicuous on the other, than if you boldly parade across the middle of the fields. In a wood you can often hide better by standing quite still under a tree than by making a dash for better cover. A keeper is not unlike the wild creatures he, watches in some ways, and any movement is sure to catch his eye, for that is what he is chiefly on the look-out for.
Secondly, don’t disturb game birds on their nests. You may make them desert, and they will certainly make a tremendous racket, which is what you want to avoid. And don’t take their eggs, for what is just an egg to you now, may mean a sporting shot and a good meal for someone next autumn. If you want specimens of their eggs, you have only to visit a few nests just after hatching time and you are sure to find an addled egg or two, which are just as good when blown, even if the inside does smell a little high.
Finally, don’t leave any traces that you can help, or meddle with traps or other appliances, or you are more than likely to get a warm reception when you go again.
Once more simple trespass is one thing and trespass in pursuit of game another which may get you into several different kinds of trouble, from heavy fines to hard labour.
Yourself.—Your duty towards yourself is something like this. Don’t let well-meaning but ignorant people give you eggs, and don’t above all things buy them