How to identify the hairs was a question; but he remembered a friend
who had a Coon-skin carriage robe. A few hairs of these were compared
with those from the tree and left no doubt that the climber was a
Coon. Thus Yan got the beginning of the idea that the very hairs of
each, as well as its tracks, are different. He learned, also, how wise
it is to draw everything that he wished to observe or describe. It
was accident, or instinct on his part, but he had fallen on a sound
principle; there is nothing like a sketch to collect and convey
accurate information of form--there is no better developer of true
observation.

One day he noticed a common plant like an umbrella. He dug it up by
the root, and at the lower end he found a long white bulb. He tasted
this. It was much like a cucumber. He looked up "Gray's School
Botany," and in the index saw the name, Indian Cucumber. The
description seemed to tally, as far as he could follow its technical
terms, though like all such, without a drawing it was far from
satisfactory. So he added the Indian Cucumber to his woodlore.

On another occasion he chewed the leaves of a strange plant because he
had heard that that was the first test applied by the Indians. He soon
began to have awful pains in his stomach. He hurried home in agony.
His mother gave him mustard and water till he vomited, then she boxed
his ears. His father came in during the process and ably supplemented
the punishment. He was then and there ordered to abstain forever from
the woods. Of course, he did not. He merely became more cautious about
it all, and enjoyed his shanty with the added zest of secret sin.