The bark was piled up in a heap after having been shredded. Then Sandy held his microscope up between the sun and the pile of dried tinder. After a little he managed to concentrate a red hot ray on the tinder. It began to smoke, and an aromatic scent filled the air. The boys could not restrain their enthusiasm. Jack lay flat and blew on the smoldering bits of bark till they burst into flame. In a few minutes a roaring fire was heaped about the base of the old dead pine.
A long, thick limb, broken off in some winter storm, lay not far off. The boys secured this, and when they thought the fire had burned long enough to char the base of the tree thoroughly, they began using it as a battering ram.
"Now then," cried Sandy, "ane! twa! all together!"
Crash! The improvised ram collided with the old pine's partially rotted trunk.
"Glory! It's shaking!" yelled Jack. "A few more good whacks like that and down she comes."
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! went the battering ram. The old pine began to lean over majestically. Slowly, very slowly, its collapse progressed. All at once its weight tore it apart from its base, and it fell with a loud, resounding crash. The boys caught their breath. Would its outer end touch the other side of the chasm?
The next instant a jubilant cheer announced that it had fulfilled the hoped for purpose. Jack threw his cap in the air. Sandy did the same.
"It's a regular Brooklyn bridge the noo!" he exclaimed.
Half scrambling and half sliding, the boys lost no time in descending to their improvised bridge. It required some exercise of courage to straddle the not over steady trunk, and work their way across it to the other side, but it was done at last, and they stood once more on "safe ground."
"Now, then, what will we do?" demanded Jack.