Hereupon Guert drew his compass from a pocket in his hunting-shirt, placed it on a log, in order to get a perfectly accurate start, and waited until the quivering needle had become perfectly stationary. Then he made his observation, and took a large hemlock, which stood at the distance of some twenty rods, a great distance for a sight in the forest, as his land-mark, gave a shout, caught up his compass, and led off. We followed, of course, and soon reached the tree. As Guert now fancied he was well entered on the right course, he disdained to turn to renew his observation, but called out for us to 'come on;' as he had a new tree for his guide, and that in the true direction. We may have proceeded in this manner for half a mile, and I began to think that Guert was about to triumph--for, to me, it did really seem that our course was as straight as it had been at any time that day. Guert now began to brag of his success, talking _to_ me, and _at_ the Indian, who was between us over his shoulder. “You see, Corny,” he said, “I am used to the bush, after all, and have often been up among the Mohawks, and on their hunts. The great point is to begin right; after which you can have no great trouble. Make certain of the first ten rods, and you can be at ease about the ten thousand that are to follow. So it is with life, Corny, boy; begin right, and a young man is pretty certain of coming out right. I made a mistake at the start, and you see the trouble it has given me. But, I was left an orphan, Littlepage, at ten years of age; and the boy that has neither father nor money, must be an uncommon boy not to kick himself out of the traces before he is twenty. Well, Onondago, what do you say to following the compass, now!” “Best look at him--he tell,” answered Susquesus, our whole line halting to let Guert comply. “This d----d compass will never come round!” exclaimed Guert, shaking the little instrument in order to help the needle round to the point at which he wished to see it stand. “These little devils are very apt to get out of order, Corny after all.” “Try more--got three”--said the Indian, holding up the number of fingers he mentioned, as was his wont, when mentioning numbers of any sort.