been working there is no question but that they would have been sent with contumely to more profitable pursuits, but this was within their rightful play hours, and Raften, after regarding them with a searching look, said slowly:  “Bhoys!” (Sam felt easier; his father would have said “Bhise” if really angry.) “Fhat’s the good o’ wastin’ yer time” (Yan’s heart sank) “wid Willow withes fur a job like that?  They can’t be made to howld.  Whoi don’t ye git some hay woire or coord at the barrun?”

The boys were greatly relieved, but still this friendly overture might be merely a feint to open the way for a home thrust.  Sam was silent.  So Yan said, presently, “We ain’t allowed to use anything but what the Indians had or could get in the woods.”

“An’ who don’t allow yez?”

“The rules.”

“Oh,” said William, with some amusement.  “Oi see!  Hyar.”

He went into the woods looking this way and that, and presently stopped at a lot of low shrubs.

“Do ye know what this is, Yan?”

“No, sir.”

“Le’s see if yer man enough to break it aff.”

Yan tried.  The wood was brittle enough, but the bark, thin, smooth and pliant, was as tough as leather, and even a narrow strip defied his strength.

“That’s Litherwood,” said Raften.  “That’s what the Injuns used; that’s what we used ourselves in the airly days of this yer settlement.”

The boys had looked for a rebuke, and here was a helping hand.  It all turned on the fact that this was “play hours,” Raften left with a parting word:  “In wan hour an’ a half the pigs is fed.”

“You see Da’s all right when the work ain’t forgot,” said Sam, with a patronizing air.  “I wonder why I didn’t think o’ that there Leatherwood meself.  I’ve often heard that that’s what was used fur tying bags in the old days when cord was scarce, an’ the Injuns used it for tying their prisoners, too.  Ain’t it the real stuff?”

Several strips were now used for tying four poles together at the top, then these four were raised on end and spread out at the bottom to serve as the frame of the teepee, or more properly wigwam, since it was to be made of bark.

After consulting, they now got a long, limber Willow rod an inch thick, and bending it around like a hoop, they tied it with Leatherwood to each pole at a point four feet from the ground.  Next they cut four short poles to reach from the ground to this.  These were lashed at their upper ends to the Willow rod, and now they were ready for the bark slabs.  The boys went to the Elm logs and again Sam’s able use of the axe came in.  He cut the bark open along the top of one log, and by using the edge of the axe and some wooden wedges they pried off a great roll eight feet long and four feet across.  It was a pleasant surprise to see what a wide piece of bark the small log gave them.

Three logs yielded three fine large slabs and others yielded pieces of various sizes.  The large ones were set up against the frame so as to make the most of them.  Of course they were much too big for the top, and much too narrow for the bottom; but the little pieces would do to patch if some way could be found to make them stick.