make it, but when we turned back we warmly welcomed the sight of our
blazed trail, for all else was strange and unfamiliar. Going there had
been glimpses of the water now and then to guide us, returning we had no
landmarks. Even my sense of direction, usually to be relied on and upon
which I had been tempted to depend solely, seemed to play me false when
we reached a place where our blazing was lost sight of. The twilight
stillness of the great forest enveloped us; there was no sign of our
camp, no sound of voices. A few steps to our left the ground fell away
in a steep precipice which, in going, we had passed unnoticed and which,
for the moment, seemed to obstruct our way. Then turning to the right we
saw a streak of light through the trees that looked, at first, like
water where we felt sure no water could be if we were on the right path;
but we soon recognized this as smoke kept in a low cloud by the
trees--the smoke of our camp-fire. That was our beacon, and we were soon
on the trail again and back in camp. This is not told as an adventure,
but to illustrate the fact that without a well-blazed trail it is easier
to become lost in a strange forest than to find one's way.

You may strike the trail with the one object in view of reaching your
destination as quickly as possible. This will help you to become agile
and sure-footed, to cover long distances in a short time, but it will
not allow of much observation until your mind has become alert and your
eyes trained to see quickly the things of the forests and plains, and to
read their signs correctly. Unless there is necessity for haste, it is
better to take more time and look about you as you go. To hurry over the
trail is to lose much that is of interest and to pass by unseeingly
things of great beauty. When you are new to the trail and must hurry,
you are intent only on what is just before you--usually the feet of your
guide--or if you raise your eyes to glance ahead, you notice objects
simply as things to be reached and passed as quickly as possible.