ng about them."

"The only 'blaze' I know anything about is the blaze I make when I try
to start a cook fire," laughed Hippy.

"You will need more knowledge than that if you stray a hundred yards
from camp in the Pineries," replied Tom as they rode along. "A blaze is
made by a single downward stroke of the axe, the object being to expose
a good-sized spot of the whitish sapwood, which, set in the dark
framework of the bark, is a staring mark that is certain to attract
attention."

"Yes, but suppose the traveler tries to find the trail a year or so
later?" questioned the practical Elfreda. "Hasn't it grown up so high
that he can't see it?"

"No. A blaze always remains at its original height above the ground,
because a tree increases its height and girth only by building on top of
the previous growth. There is much of interest that I could tell you
along this line, but I will merely describe the various blazes and their
meanings, leaving the rest until some other time. It is well to remember
that a trail blazed in a forest is likely to have been made either by a
hunter, a lumberman, a timber-looker, or a surveyor. A hunter's line is
apt to be inconspicuous. So is a timber-looker's, because he is
searching for a bonanza and doesn't wish anyone else to discover it. A
surveyor's line is always absolutely straight, except where it meets an
insurmountable object, when it makes a right-angle turn to avoid the
object, then goes straight ahead again.

"All trees that stand directly on the line of a survey have two notches
cut on each side of them and are called 'sight trees.' Bushes on or near
the line are bent by the woodsman at right angles to it.

"When a blaze line turns abruptly so that a person following it might
otherwise overlook it, a long slash is made on that side of the tree
which faces the new direction. There are other forms of blazes, such as
marking section corners, boundaries and the like, which it is
unnecessary for you to know now, but with which it might be wise for you
to familiarize yourselves as you go along. This is the end of your first
lesson."

"There's the fork of the river that we are goin' to camp on," called
Joe, riding down a steep bank, followed by the Overlanders, their ponies
slipping and sliding until they had reached the more level ground near
the stream.

"We camp here," announced the forest woman. "If ye don't like it, pick
out yer own camp. The bear and I stay right here."

Dism