Sheath Knives, to carry.—­They are easily carried by half-naked, pocketless savages, by attaching the sheaths to a leather-loop, through which the left forearm and elbow are to be passed.  A swimmer can easily carry a knife in this way; otherwise he holds it between his teeth.

Substitutes for Knives.—­Steel is no doubt vastly better than iron, but it is not essential for the ordinary purposes of life; indeed, most ancient civilized nations had nothing better than iron.  Any bit of good iron may be heated as hot as the camp-fire admits; hammered flat, lashed into a handle, and sharpened on a stone.  A fragment of flint or obsidian may be made fast to a handle, to be used as a carpenter cuts paper With a chisel; namely, by holding it dagger-fashion, and drawing it over the skin or flesh which he wishes to cut.  Shells are sometimes employed as substitutes for knives, also thin strips of bamboo, the sharp edges of which cut meat easily. (See “Sharpening Tools.”)

Night-glass.—­Opera-glasses are invaluable as night-glasses, for, by their aid, the sight of man is raised nearly to a par with that of night-roving animals; therefore, a sportsman would find them of great service when watching for game at night.  A small and inexpensive glass is as useful for this purpose as a large one; but there is a considerable difference between the clearness of different opera-glasses.

OTHER MEANS OF CAPTURING GAME.

General Remarks.—­A trapper will never succeed, unless he thoroughly enters into the habits of life and mind of wild animals.  He must ever bear in mind how suspicious they are; how quickly their eye is caught by unusual traces; and, lastly, how strong and enduring a taint is left by the human touch.  Our own senses do not make us aware of what it is disagreeable enough to acknowledge, that the whole species of man yields a powerful and wide-spreading emanation, that is utterly disgusting and repulsive to every animal in its wild state.  It requires some experience to realise this fact:  a man must frequently have watched the heads of a herd of far distant animals, tossed up in alarm the moment that they catch his wind; he must have observed the tracks of animals—­how, when they crossed his path of the preceding day, the beast that made the tracks has stopped, scrutinised, and shunned it—­before he can believe what a Yahoo he is among the brute creation.  No cleanliness of the individual seems to diminish this remarkable odour:  indeed, the more civilised the man, the more subtle does it appear to be; the touch of a game-keeper scares less than that of the master, and the touch of a negro or bushman less than that of a traveller from Europe.