"Then," continued Harold, "make it your constant habit to notice the course you travel, and the time you are travelling. Watch the sun, or else the shadows of the trees, and the angle at which you cross them. Early in the morning the shadows are very long, and point west. In the middle of the forenoon, they are about as long as the trees that make them, and all point north-west. And at twelve o'clock they are very short, and point due north. To a woodsman the shadows are both clock and compass; and by keeping your mind on them, you can easily make what the captain would call your dead reckoning."
"But," said Robert, "what would you do on such a day as this, when there is neither sun nor shadow?"
"You must work by another rule," he replied. "Old Torgah gave me three signs for telling the points of the compass, by noticing the limbs, the bark, and the green moss on the trunks of trees well exposed to the sun. Moss, you know, loves the shade, while the bark and limbs grow all the faster for having plenty of light. As a general rule, therefore, you will find the south, or sunny side of a tree marked by large limbs and thick, rough bark, and the north side covered, more or less, with whatever green moss there may be on it.[#] Did I ever tell you how these signs helped me once to find my way home?"
[#] Happening not long since to converse with an old and observant farmer, on the subject of these natural signs, he pointed out another.
"Notice," said he, "the direction in which those trees lean."
We were in a pine forest, and, almost without exception, the trees that declined from a perpendicular leaned towards the east. The severe winds through the up country of South Carolina, Georgia and Alabama, which start our trees and unsettle our fences, usually prevail from the west. That is the point also from which almost invariably come our thunder storms.
Robert replied that he had not. "I was at my uncle's, where I had never been before, in a newly settled part of the country. A small stream ran near his house, and bent considerably around his plantation. Down this stream I followed one day, in search of ducks, and walked several miles before thinking of home. My uncle's house lay due east, and instead of returning the way I went, I determined to take a shorter course through the woods. I had not gone far, however, before a fat squirrel jumped upon a log, within good shooting distance, curled his tail over his back, and sat there barking; he seemed to give me every invitation that a squirrel possibly could to shoot him, and I did so. But it was really curious to see the consequence. Such a barking of squirrels I never heard before in my life. They were all around me, jumping, shaking their tails, and quaw-quawing at such a rate, that it was almost like witchcraft. I killed as many as I could carry, and once more set out for home. But I had completely lost my course; the chase had taken off my mind, and I could tell neither which way I came into the wood, nor how I was to go out of it. My uncle's house I knew lay to the east, and the stream to the north. But which way was east, and which north? The sun was hidden, and the trees were so close and thick, that the moss covered their large trunks on every side, and the limbs and bark for the same reason seemed to be of equal size all round. At last I spied a small tree, that was pretty well exposed to the sun, and the limbs of which were evidently larger, and the bark rougher on one side than on the other; there was also a beautiful tuft of green moss growing at its root, on the side opposite to the large limbs. These signs satisfied me; but to make assurance doubly sure, I cut into the tree far enough to ascertain that the thickest bark was on the roughest side. That one tree was my guide. I struck a straight course for home, and reached it without difficulty. Now, if you take these rules, you can guide yourself anywhere through these woods, in which you will never be more than three or four miles to the east of the sea-shore."
"Thank you, cousin," said Robert; "thank you sincerely. You have relieved my mind from the greatest embarrassment I have felt at the thought of roaming these dark woods alone. Your rules give me confidence; for the very trees that before caused my bewilderment shall now become my guides."
He took his gun, called his dog, and gave a look to Frank, in the expectation that he also would come. But Frank had listened quietly to the preceding conversation, and had as quietly made up his mind not to go. He sat beside the cage, watching the opossum, and took no notice of dog, gun, or look.
"Jump, Frank," said Robert, in a cheering tone; "I am ready to go. Let us see if we cannot find a deer."