CHAPTER TEN: NEAR THE END

Anyone who is used to the woods knows how apt he is to wander in
a circle unless he keeps his wits about him. There have been many
causes named for this curious fact, and the one that strikes me as
the most reasonable is that we are all either right or left handed.
It is rare that you meet a person who is ambidextrous,--that is,
who uses both hands equally well. When, therefore, he sets out to
travel through the woods without any guide, he unconsciously exerts
his right or left limb, as the case may be, more than the other,
and this makes his course circular.

There are three "signboards" by which a hunter can keep trace of
the points of the compass when in the woods, without noticing the
sun, which of itself is often a great help. Three fourths of the
moss on trees grows on the north side; the heaviest boughs on spruce
trees are always on the south side, and the topmost twig of every
uninjured hemlock tree tips to the east.

Now, while these signs never err, you can see that it is almost
impossible to turn them to account at night.

Ben Ripley had led his friends in an irregular circle, and brought
them back to within a brief distance of the starting point. This
was the camp fire from which they fled in such panic before the
approach of the three red men.

The discovery filled him with dismay, and he darted out in the
darkness for the rocks where the others were sleeping. His first