The trees selected for their purposes are generally about three or four feet in circumference at the part that is within reach. The trunk of each tree is, in the first place, gnawed evenly round, until only a portion of the centre, about two inches in diameter, is left to maintain it in an upright position. It is then carefully gnawed from the direction towards which the tree is intended to fall, which is often a matter of some importance. When it is lying upon the ground, the bark is stripped and stored for food, the branches are cut into the requisite lengths and used also partly for winter provision, but chiefly with regard to what may be wanted for the construction and repair of the dams and lodges. Upon returning one afternoon from the River Carp, I found that, by some inattention, I had left the track and had wandered into the forest. Men who are accustomed to explore this region had stated that the safest course to adopt when such an event occurred was to observe the position of the marks of the weather upon the trunks of the trees. In Michigan, it held been noticed that these evidences of exposure, consisting of moss or lichen, were upon the Northern sides, and it was considered that by watching these indications, a line of direction could be followed. It is possible that in places where the trees are much exposed this system may be useful, but in this case I did not find it so. The indications of weather were often very faint and difficult to trace. Where they did clearly exist, they varied so greatly in their position, that it was impossible to follow a straight line. I consequently soon gave up the attempt to find the trail by this method. Night was approaching, and the outlook was becoming grave. In all directions but one, there was nothing but many miles of dense forest, which it would be hopeless to attempt to pass through. The direction which was available had a broad base, being the road from Ishpeming to Marquette. This I knew must lie between south and south-west. Consequently if I could follow a line between these points, it was probable that the road would soon be reached, as its distance was less than three miles. I had my watch with me, and fortunately, the sun could be seen occasionally, so it was possible to make that my guide. Upon a rough calculation of the true bearing of the approaching sunset, I found that by keeping the glimmer of the light on the right hand, and walking steadily forward, the road ought to be reached before dark. It was, however, anxious work and it was getting late when I unexpectedly emerged into an open clearing, where a squatter had temporarily settled. It was with no slight pleasure that I heard the sounds of life, the lowing of cattle, and the welcome movements of a busy farmyard.[10]