The first attempt I made was with two sticks and a bucket of water. I arranged the bucket in the daytime, so that it could be filled from rim to rim; that is, it was level, and that gave me the horizon line; next, I fastened my two sticks together at an adjustable angle. Then laying one stick across the bucket as a base, I raised the other till the two sight notches on its upper edge were in straight line for the Pole-star. The sticks were now fastened at this angle and put away till the morning. On a smooth board—the board is allowable
because it can be found either far on the plains when you have your wagon, or on the ship at sea—I mapped out, first a right angle, by the old plan of measuring off a triangle, whose sides were six, eight, and ten inches, and applied the star angle to this. By a process of equal subdivision I got 45 degrees, 22½ degrees finally 40 degrees, which seemed to be the latitude of my camp; subsequent looking-up showed it to be 40 degrees 10 minutes.
Of course, it is hard to imagine that the boys will ever be so placed that it is important for them to take their latitude with home-made implements; but it is also hard to imagine circumstances under which it would be necessary to know that the sun is 92,000,000 miles away. It is very sure, however, that a boy who has once done this has a larger idea of the world and its geography, and it is likely to help him in realizing that
Sundial, or hunter's dock
there is some meaning to the lines and figures on the border of his school maps, and that they are not put there merely to add to his perplexities.
