Chapter 2

"Thou'rt passing from the lake's green side,
And the hunter's hearth away;
For the time of flowers, for the summer's pride,
Daughter! thou canst not stay."

Mrs. Hemans, "Edith. A Tale of the Woods" II. 191-94

Our two adventurers had not far to go. Hurry knew the direction,
as soon as he had found the open spot and the spring, and he now
led on with the confident step of a man assured of his object.
The forest was dark, as a matter of course, but it was no longer
obstructed by underbrush, and the footing was firm and dry. After
proceeding near a mile, March stopped, and began to cast about him
with an inquiring look, examining the different objects with care,
and occasionally turning his eyes on the trunks of the fallen trees,
with which the ground was well sprinkled, as is usually the case
in an American wood, especially in those parts of the country where
timber has not yet become valuable.

"This must be the place, Deerslayer," March at length observed;
"here is a beech by the side of a hemlock, with three pines at
hand, and yonder is a white birch with a broken top; and yet I see
no rock, nor any of the branches bent down, as I told you would be
the case."

"Broken branches are onskilful landmarks, as the least exper'enced
know that branches don't often break of themselves," returned
the other; "and they also lead to suspicion and discoveries. The
Delawares never trust to broken branches, unless it is in friendly
times, and on an open trail. As for the beeches, and pines, and
hemlocks, why, they are to be seen on all sides of us, not only by
twos and threes, but by forties, and fifties, and hundreds."

"Very true, Deerslayer, but you never calculate on position. Here
is a beech and a hemlock--"

"Yes, and there is another beech and a hemlock, as loving as two
brothers, or, for that matter, more loving than some brothers; and
yonder are others, for neither tree is a rarity in these woods.
I fear me, Hurry, you are better at trapping beaver and shooting
bears, than at leading on a blindish sort of a trail. Ha! there's
what you wish to find, a'ter all!"

"Now, Deerslayer, this is one of your Delaware pretensions, for
hang me if I see anything but these trees, which do seem to start
up around us in a most onaccountable and perplexing manner."

"Look this a way, Hurry--here, in a line with the black oak-don't
you see the crooked sapling that is hooked up in the branches of
the bass-wood, near it? Now, that sapling was once snow-ridden,
and got the bend by its weight; but it never straightened itself,
and fastened itself in among the bass-wood branches in the way you