The Dan'l Boone Cabin was built fifteen years ago, and was located in this particular spot because of a spring of pure cold water which we discovered while on a hunting expedition. It is a long way from any lake but is in the edge of good hunting country. To reach it, from our cottage we went by boat up the lake to the mouth of the river, then proceeded along the river bank past the rapids about two miles to the falls. At the falls the township line crosses the river, and we followed it through the woods up over the top of the mountain and down to one of the foot hills on the opposite slope.
The township line was marked through the woods by four blazes on each tree, placed in the form of a diamond, a chip being cut out at each angles of the diamond. The line was practically straight and was not difficult to follow, except that it led up the steepest part of the mountain and over the highest ridge. In places one had to crawl on hands and knees and hang onto roots and bushes to avoid sliding back. We had to climb just the same, both going and coming and with a heavy pack on one's back it was rather strenuous, and there were about four miles of the line that we used.
I felt confident that a better route could be found to the camp and Bige and I often discussed the matter but we continued to use the township line through the first season. One day during the second summer of our tenancy, while Bige was busy with some other chore, I took an axe and started out from camp, determined to mark a new and better trail out of the woods.
There was a steep rocky ledge or rather a succession of ledges, leading to the mountain top and I reasoned that if I kept to the left and below these ledges I should pass over the shoulder of the mountain thus avoiding the high ridge and steep part of our old trail. Then, after passing the rocky ledges I knew that if I continued on down hill I should, sooner or later, reach water; either the river or the lake. This was such a simple proposition that I should not need my compass so left it in camp.
In marking an ordinary trail through the woods a chip is cut out of a tree so as to expose the white wood under the bark, this we call a "blaze" and it is usually placed about five feet above the ground which brings the mark as nearly as possible on the line of vision. It also is high enough to be seen above the deep snows of winter. The distance between blazed trees depends upon the density of the forest, but in passing one mark the next one should always be in view. Also the trees should be marked on both sides so that the trail may be followed in both directions. A blaze on a soft wood tree, a pine, spruce, hemlock or balsam will remain white and visible longer than one made on a hardwood tree. The exposed wood of a beech, birch or maple becomes stained and browned in a few months and is not distinctly visible on a dark day; so we always mark the soft woods when possible.
It was my purpose to first go through and mark out the new route, then, later with Bige's help cut the brush and clear fallen wood out of the path.
I made rapid progress, keeping the rocky ledges always in sight in the distance, but working well below and to the left of them. After about two hours work I crossed a line of old markings on the trees that looked strangely like the township line, but I knew it was not possible that it could be, as the township line was more than a half mile to the south of where I stood and moreover, it ran in a different direction. This must be a boundary line of the lumber company's property. So I continued on with my job of marking trees.
After another hour it occurred to me that it took a long time for me to get past the ledges of rock that pointed up to the ridge of the mountain top. I ought surely, by this time, to be going down hill toward the river. So I stopped work to study the forestscape. There were the ledges in the distance on my right and the forest floor sloping gently to the left. There were the undisturbed, primeval forest trees with their tops a hundred or more feet above, branches interlaced and shutting out a view even of the clouds which now obscured the sun. There was very little underbrush and this suggested the thought that the task of clearing the path would be easy. Everything was as it should be, so I continued cutting chips out of trees on my new route.
A few minutes later I crossed another line of old blazes very like the one I had crossed an hour ago. This I decided was the other side of the lumber lot. In another quarter hour I met a third line of blazed trees. But this time the marks were fresh, there was only one blaze on each side of a tree and there were fresh chips on the ground under them. This was most extraordinary. I could not conceive of any reason for any other person marking a trail in those woods, unless, possibly a surveyor might be at work there, but I had not met a surveyor in the woods since the Government Maps were made several years ago.
I determined to investigate, so struck my axe into a tree, left it there and started down this new trail to find the fellow who was making it. Broken ferns, trampled moss and bent bushes indicated that it had been made very recently and I might overtake the trail maker if I hurried up. So I stumbled along as fast as possible.
In about twenty minutes I saw an axe sticking in a blazed tree. The owner of that axe must be somewhere near and I looked around for him. Not finding him within range of vision I examined the axe. It was mine! There was a nick in the helve that I had put there myself. But how the dickens did it get here? Was it possible that Bige? Yes, we had two axes in camp. No, that was the same axe I had taken out that morning. Its weight and shape suited me better than the other and so I had marked the handle.
Puzzling over the mysterious situation, I continued explorations. Leaving the axe sticking in the tree trunk, I started to climb over the rocks up the steep mountain side. In due time I reached the top and found the township line which I had many times followed over the ridge. I then proceeded along the ridge toward the south, but it ceased to be a ridge after a few rods and I soon climbed down steep rocky ledges till I met a new blazed trail. Then I went back up the mountain and followed the township line down the steep part and met another new blazed trail. Then I followed this new blazed trail until I crossed the township line again and a few rods further on I came back to the axe sticking in the tree.
At this point in the game I peeled a piece of birch bark, sat down and with a stub of pencil made a diagram of the mountain and the various trails I had made and met during the day.
This was the northeastern end of the mountain which Bige and all the other guides for many years had known to be a crescent shaped ridge. They also had known that the ridge, following its curve was about three miles long. My discovery consisted in learning that this end of the mountain was a rocky cone-shaped peak and about three hundred feet higher than the top of the ridge. Also that during an entire Summer we had been climbing over this peak on the township line and had thereby wasted many thousands of foot-pounds of energy.
By keeping the rocky ledges in view in laying out my new route, I had made a complete circle around the mountain peak, had twice crossed the township line and intersected my own trail at the end of the loop.
I reached camp about the time Bige had supper ready. At the table I told him about my new route to the river. "Sufferin Mike! well, by Gosh! Ha-ha-ha" spoke Bige. "The next time you lay out a trail, you take a compass along, and no matter how sure you may be that the compass is wrong, you go where the compass points. Many a man has been lost in the woods by refusing to be guided by his compass and using his own judgment instead."