on corner, I ca'c'late," said the old man, shouldering his
axe, "is off on the perairie thar, some'er's. Come, and I'll show ye the
trees."

"Is that big oak with the broken limb one of them?"

"Wal, now, how did ye come to guess that?--one tree out of a hundred ye
might 'a' picked."

"It is a prominent tree," replied the youth, "and, if I had been the
surveyor, I think I should have chosen it for one, to put my bearings
on."

"Boy, you're right! But it took me tew days to decide even that. The
underbrush has growed up around it, and the old scar has nigh about
healed over."

The old man led the way through the thickets, and, reaching a small
clear space at the foot of the great oak, pointed out the scar, where
the trunk had been blazed by the axemen of the government survey. On a
surface about six inches broad, hewed for the purpose, the distance and
direction of the tree from the corner stake had, no doubt, been duly
marked. But only a curiously shaped wound was left. The growth of the
wood was rapid in that rich region, and, although the cut had been made
but a few years before, a broad lip of smooth new bark had rolled up
about it from the sides, and so nearly closed over it that only a
narrow, perpendicular, dark slit remained.

"What do you make of that?" said Mr. Wiggett, putting his fingers at the
opening, and looking down at his companion.

"I don't make much of it as it looks now," the young surveyor replied.

"Didn't I tell you 't would take an old head to find my corner? T' other
tree is in a wus shape than this yer. Now I reckon you'll be satisfied
to turn about and whip home, and tell your boss it's a job for him."

"Give me your axe," was the reply.

"Boy, take kere what you're about!"

"O, I will take care; don't be afraid!" And, grasping the axe, the young
surveyor began to cut away the folds of new wood which had formed over
the scar.

"I see what you're up tew," said the old man, gaining confidence at
every stroke. "Give me the axe; you ain't tall enough to work handy."
And with a few strokes, being a skilful chopper, he cleared the old
blaze, and exposed the blackened tablet which Nature had so nearly
enclosed in her casket of living wood.

There, cut into the old hewed surface, were the well-preserved marks of
the government survey:

N. 48 deg. 15' W.
18 R. 10 L.

"What does that mean?" asked the old man, as the youth made a copy of
these marks in his notebook.

"It me