“I see nothing, not the sign of a foot-print,” stubbornly insisted Stanley.
“If there was a path you wouldn’t need a blaze,” explained Bub, still hugely amused. “Now, look. See anything on the trees?”
“You mean the trees with pieces chipped out of the bark?”
“Sure! that’s just what I mean. See, you can count a dozen of ’em, all in a line. As we go on we’ll find more. As long as you pass blazed trees you know you are following the trail,” encouraged Bub.
“So, whoever came this way first stopped and made those marks?” inquired Stanley, much interested.
“No, he made ’em when coming back,” returned Bub.
“I admit my ignorance; why try to fool me all the time?” reproached Stanley, sternly.
“Ha! ha! You’re an awfully good feller, Stan; but you’re funny. Now wait; I’m not fooling you. When the man came in here he wanted to find his way out, didn’t he?”
Stanley relaxed his lips and nodded, albeit a bit coldly.
“So, as he passed a tree he chipped the side he would see when coming out. Take this tree; look on the other side. See; he made that
