r Chief, in scorn. "I'll give you
something to do that'll try if you can chop. Kin you chop a six-inch
tree down in three minutes an' throw it up the wind ?"

"What kind o' tree?" asked the Woodpecker.

"Oh, any kind."

"I'll bet you five dollars I kin cut down a six-inch White Pine in two
minutes an' throw it any way I want to. You pick out the spot for me
to lay it. Mark it with a stake an' I'll drive the stake."

"I don't think any of the Tribe has five dollars to bet. If you can do
it we'll give you a grand coup feather," answered Little Beaver.

"No spring pole," said Guy, eager to make it impossible.

"All right," replied the Woodpecker; "I'll do it without using a
spring pole."

So he whetted up his axe, tried the lower margin of the head, found it
was a trifle out of the true--that is, its under curve centred, not on
the handle one span down, but half an inch out from the handle. A nail
driven into the point of the axe-eye corrected this and the chiefs
went forth to select a tree. A White Pine that measured roughly six
inches through was soon found, and Sam was allowed to clear away the
brush around it. Yan and Guy now took a stout stake and, standing
close to the tree, looked up the trunk. Of course, every tree in the
woods leans one way or another, and it was easy to see that this
leaned slightly southward. What wind there was came from the north, so
Yan decided to set the stake due north.

Sam's little Japanese eyes twinkled. But Guy who, of course, knew
something of chopping, fairly exploded with scorn. "Pooh! What do you
know? That's easy; any one can throw it straight up the wind. Give him
a cornering shot and let him try. There, now," and Guy set the stake
off to the north-west. "Now, smarty. Let's see you do that."

"All right. You'll see me. Just let me look at it a minute."

Sam walked round the tree, studied its lean and the force of the wind
on its top, rolled up his sleeves, slipped his suspenders, spat on his
palms, and, standing to west of the tree, said _"Ready_."

Yan had his watch out and shouted "_Go_."

Two firm, unhasty strokes up on the south side of the tree left a
clean nick across and two inches deep in the middle. The chopper then
stepped forward one pace and on the north-northwesterly side, eighteen
inches lower down than the first cut, after reversing his hands--which
is what few can do--he rapidly chopped a butt-kerf. Not a stroke
was hasty; not a blow went wrong. The f