“Hooray!” shouted Little Beaver in admiration.

“Pooh!” said Sapwood.  “That was just chance.  He couldn’t do that again.”

“Not to the same stick!” retorted Yan.  He recognized the consummate skill and the cleverness of knowing that the cup of water was just what was needed to rob the wood of its spring and turn the balance.

But Guy continued contemptuously, “I had it started for him.”

“I think that should count a coup,” said Little Beaver.

“Coup nothin’,” snorted the Third War 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.”