“I see it, too,” said George, a moment later. “I must have seen it all the time and thought it was a knot.”
“That’s better,” laughed the guide, pleased at the sharp eyesight of the boys. “When you see him there it means that the sap is running.”
They looked at him in astonishment. What possible connection could the presence of a lazy little red squirrel, sprawled indolently along the limb, have to do with the rising of the sap in the tree?
“What do you mean?” asked George.
“Why, that little ‘sweet-tooth’ over there has gnawed a hole in the upper side of the limb, and then stretched himself out to watch it fill with sap. When it’s full he quickly sucks it out and waits patiently till another cupful is ready. It’s an old trick of his, and you may be sure, when you find him at it, that it’s time to tap the trees. Well, let’s begin,” said the guide, as he pulled off his coat.
Ben took the auger and bored a hole into the trunk of a near-by tree. He explained that he tapped the tree on the south side, as, that being the warmer side, the sap would run more freely there. Ben also explained that one must not bore too deep. He said he tapped a tree once in two years. The tree he now tapped had not been touched the season previous, and would not be again until the second season following. Having bored the hole to the proper depth, he whittled and inserted a grooved, trough-like plug, which protruded from the trunk far enough to hold the pail, which was promptly hung upon it.
While Ben went to the next tree to repeat the operation the boys stood before the one he had just tapped. They watched the sap ooze slowly forward from the wound and trickle down the plug, to drip, drop by drop, into the suspended bucket.
Ed, unable longer to resist the temptation, dipped his finger in the sticky fluid and touched it to his tongue.
“No wonder the red squirrel likes it,” he laughed; whereupon George also sampled some.
“Hey, you fellows, scat out of there!” yelled Ben, with pretended fierceness.