ade by a
gale, the young trees that grow up are well sheltered from the wind by
the forest, and don't want to throw out roots to hold them up; but when
a great clearing has been made, by a fire or other causes, the trees,
as they grow up together, have no shelter, and must stretch out their
roots to steady them.

"Sometimes, you will find all the trees, for a long distance, with
their roots like this; sometimes only one tree among a number. Perhaps,
when they started, that tree had more room, or a deeper soil, and grew
faster than the rest, and got his head above them, so he felt the wind
more, and had to throw out his roots to steady himself; while the
others, all growing the same height, did not need to do so."

"Thank you," James said. "I understand now, and will bear it in mind.
It is very interesting, and I should like, above all things, to be able
to read the signs of the woods as you do."

"It will come, lad. It's a sort of second nature. These things are
gifts. The redskin thinks it just as wonderful that the white man
should be able to take up a piece of paper covered with black marks,
and to read off sense out of them, as you do that he should be able to
read every mark and sign of the wood. He can see, as plain as if the
man was still standing on it, the mark of a footprint, and can tell you
if it was made by a warrior or a squaw, and how long they have passed
by, and whether they were walking fast or slow; while the ordinary
white man might go down on his hands and knees, and stare at the
ground, and wouldn't be able to see the slightest sign or mark. For a
white man, my eyes are good, but they are not a patch on a redskin's. I
have lived among the woods since I was a boy; but even now, a redskin
lad can pick up a trail and follow it when, look as I will, I can't see
as a blade of grass has been bruised. No; these things is partly natur
and partly practice. Practice will do a lot for a white man; but it
won't take him up to redskin natur."

Not until night had fallen did the party again launch their canoes on
the lake. Then they paddled for several hours until, as James imagined,
they had traversed a greater distance, by some miles, than that which
they had made on the previous evening. He knew, from what he had
learned during the day, that they were to land some six miles below the
point where Lake George joins Lake Champlain, and where, on the
opposite side, on a promontory stretching into the lake, th