the ghost to sit there alone in the still night.

XVII

Sam's Woodcraft Exploit

Sam's "long suit," as he put it, was axemanship. He was remarkable
even in this land of the axe, and, of course, among the "Injuns" he
was a marvel. Yan might pound away for half an hour at some block that
he was trying to split and make no headway, till Sam would say, "Yan,
hit it right there," or perhaps take the axe and do it for him; then
at one tap the block would fly apart. There was no rule for this happy
hit. Sometimes it was above the binding knot, sometimes beside it,
sometimes right in the middle of it, and sometimes in the end of the
wood away from the binder altogether--often at the unlikeliest places.
Sometimes it was done by a simple stroke, sometimes a glancing stroke,
sometimes with the grain or again angling, and sometimes a compound of
one or more of each kind of blow; but whatever was the right stroke,
Sam seemed to know it instinctively and applied it to exactly the
right spot, the only spot where the hard, tough log was open to
attack, and rarely failed to make it tumble apart as though it were a
trick got ready beforehand. He did not brag about it. He simply took
it for granted that he was the master of the art, and as such the
others accepted him.

On one occasion Yan, who began to think he now had some skill, was
whacking away at a big, tough stick till he had tried, as he thought,
every possible combination and still could make no sign of a crack.
Then Guy insisted on "showing him how," without any better result.

"Here, Sam," cried Yan, "I'll bet this is a baffler for you."

Sam turned the stick over, selected a hopeless-looking spot, one as
yet not touched by the axe, set the stick on end, poured a cup of
water on the place, then, when that had soaked in, he struck with all
his force a single straight blow at the line where the grain spread to
embrace the knot. The aim was true to a hair and the block flew open.

"Hooray!" shouted Little Beaver in admiration.

"Pooh!" said Sapwood. "That was just chance. He couldn't do that
again."

"Not to the same stick!" retorted Yan. He recognized the consummate
skill and the cleverness of knowing that the cup of water was just
what was needed to rob the wood of its spring and turn the balance.

But Guy continued contemptuously, "I had it started for him."

"_I_ think that should count a _coup_," said Little Beaver.

"Coup nothin'," snorted the Third Wa