26 Trails to Woods and Waters 



When one tired of % the hum of wheels and 

 the pounding of belting and the hideous 

 shrieking of the great circular saw, there was 

 always the mill yard to flee to. There the 

 sounds from the mill were all subdued and 

 the placid mill pond, and a fringe of green 

 hills beyond offset the turbulence of the mill. 



The initials were finally completed and the 

 boy drove his knife deep into the log and 

 viewed his carving critically. 



It did not just suit him, the bark should 

 come off, to make a panel, and then the 

 initials should be carved in the wood instead 

 of the bark, this would be much more artistic, 

 so he gashed the bark savagely, making a 

 rather unsymmetrical square about the 

 initials. 



" I wish you would stop," said a deep mel- 

 low voice from the heart of the log. " I don't 

 want to be scarred and hacked when I take 

 my turn on the carriage before the saw. I 

 want to be as nearly perfect as I can, now I 

 am cut in pieces." 



The boy pulled the knife from the bark 



