On the Trail: An Outdoor Book for Girls

Do for Girls. How to Find t

our nature that only the wild can reach, satisfy, and develop. The much-housed, overheated, overdressed, and over-entertained life of most girls is artificial, and if one does not

bearing his pack-basket or duffel-bag on his back, doing all the hard work of the camp, never loses his poise or the simple dignity which he shares with all the things of the wild. It is bred in him, is a part of himself and the life he leads. He is as conscious of his superior knowledge of the woods as an astronomer is of his knowledge of the

ce come into sympathy with this world of the wild-which holds our cultivated, artificial world in the hollow of its hand and gives it life-new joy, good, wholesome, heartfelt joy, will well up within you. New and absorbing interests will claim your attention. You will breathe deeper, stand stra

g in it. But for them it is only a big picnic-ground through which they rush with unseeing eyes and whose cloisters they invade with unfeeling hearts, seemin

around obstructions l

ry form of moving life is stilled and magically fades into its background. The tawny rabbit halts amid the dry leaves of a fallen tree. No one sees it. The sinuous weasel slips silently under a rock by the side of the trail and is unnoticed. The mother grouse crouches low amid the underbrush

and interesting we learn only by degrees and actual experience. It is free, but not lawless; to enter it fully we must obey these laws which are slowly and silently impressed upon us. It is a wholesome, life-giving, inspiring world, and when you have learned to conform to its rules you are met on every hand by friendly messengers to guide you and teach you the ways of the wild: wild birds, wild fruits and plants, and gentle, furtive, wild animals. You cannot put their messages into words, but you can feel them; and then, sudd

with this love for the wild, some attain it, but in either case the joy is there, and to find it you must seek it. Your chosen trail may lead through the primeval forests or into the great western deserts or plains; or it may reach only left-over bits of the wild which can be found at no great distance from home. Even a bit of meadow or woodland, even an uncultivated field on the hilltop, will give you a taste of the wild; and if you strike the trail in the right spirit you will find upon arrival that t

as it can be made, one of practical helpfulness in outdoor life; therefor

Strike

novice and accustomed to walking only over smooth and level ground, you must allow more time for covering the distance than an experienced person would require and must count upon the expenditure of more strength, because your feet are not trained to the wilderness paths with their pitfalls and traps for the unwary, and every nerve and muscle will be strained to secure a safe foothold amid the tangled roots, on the slippery, moss-covered logs, over precipitous rocks that lie in your path. It will take time to pick your way over boggy places where the water oozes up through the thin, loamy soil as through a sponge; and experience alone will teach you whi

of the Adir

r) after a day in the wilds of an Adirondack forest.

ng th

follow such a trail you stand at your first tree until you see the blaze on the next, then go to that and look for the one f

hese signs conspicuous and close together, for in returning, a dozen feet without the broken branch will sometimes confuse you, especially as everything has a different look when seen from the opposite side. By this same token it is a wise precaution to look back frequently as you go and impress the homeward-bound landmarks on your memory. If in your wa

by bending down an

away from the camp and two blazes on the side toward the camp. Then when you return you look for the one blaze. In leaving camp again to follow the same trail, you look for the two bla

an Ani

is a difference which, in a recent number of Field and Stream, Mr. Arthur Rice defines very clearly in this way: "Men step on things. Animals step over or around things." Then again an animal trail frequently passes under bushes and low

camp by the

e blaze

in th

the perfectly plain trail. For a short distance there was a beaten path, then, suddenly, the trail came to an abrupt end. We looked this side and that. No trail, no appearance of there ever having been one. With a careless wave of his arm, the guide had said: "Keep in that direction." "That" being to the left, to the

se 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 f

y 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 tr

at cover the ground like moss and the structure of the soft mosses with fronds like ferns. You can catch the jewel-like gleam of the wood flowers. You can breathe deeply and rejoice in the perfume of the balsam and

heel down first, while crossing on a slippery log as in ordinary walking, the natural result will be a fall. With your entire foot as a base upon which to rest, the body is more easily balanced and the foot le

it always presupposes movement of some kind. In one sense going on the trail means going on the hunt. You may go on the trail for birds, for animals, for insects, plants, o

ints o

nts of

shows the cloven hoof, with a difference between the buck's and the doe's. The doe's toes are pointed and, when not spread, the track is almost heart-shaped (Fig. 7), while the buck has blunter, more rounded toes, like Fig. 10. The two round lobes are at the back of the foot, the other end points in the direction the deer has taken. Sometimes you will find deer tracks with the toes spread wide apart. That means the animal has been running. All animals' toes spread more or less when they run. A bear track is like Fig. 11, but a large bear often leaves other evidences of his presence than his footprints. He will frequently turn a b

nts of

of the large hind feet, which, with the peculiar gait of the rabbit, always come first. The large, hind-feet tracks point the direction the animal has taken. Fig. 1 is the track of the caribou, and shows the print of t

se of sheep, but wider. When you have learned to recognize the varying freshness of tracks you will know how far ahead the animal probably is