58 The Amateur Poacher. 



surprising ; every motion dislodges it from a thou- 

 sand minute crevices. As for firs, in climbing a fir 

 one cannot look up at all dead sticks, needles, and 

 dust pour down, and the branches are so thick toge- 

 ther that the head has to be forced through them. 

 The line fixed, the saw is applied, and by slow 

 degrees the butt cut nearly through. Unless much 

 overbalanced on one side by the limbs, an oak will 

 stand on a still day when almost off. 



Some now seize the rope, and alternately pull and 

 slacken, which gives the great tree a tottering move- 

 ment. One more daring than the rest drives a wedge 

 into the saw-cut as it opens when the tree sways. It 

 sways it staggers ; a loud crack as the fibres part, 

 then with a slow heave over it goes, and, descending, 

 twists upon the base. The vast limbs plough into 

 the sward ; the twigs are crushed ; the boughs, after 

 striking the earth, rebound and swish upwards. See 

 that you stand clear, for the least branch will thresh 

 you down. The flat surface of the exposed butt is 

 blue with stains from the steel of the saw. 



Light taps with a small sharp axe, that cut the 

 rind but no deeper, ring the trunk at intervals. Then 

 the barking irons are inserted ; they are rods of iron, 

 forged at the top something like a narrow shallow 

 spoon. The bark from the trunk comes off in huge 



