One's stride on the march, after he has settled down to it, is likely to be longer than it is in town. In my own case, on a hike over fair road, I find that my pace is about 33 inches (three inches longer than it is around home), and the cadence of a steady jog is 100 steps to the minute. This makes 1,920 paces to the mile. Allowing for uneven ground, I figure on 2,000 paces to the mile, and three miles an hour. This happens to be convenient in plotting, for, when mapping on a scale of, say, four inches to the mile, each of the 1-10 inch squares on my cross-section paper represents just 100 paces of 31.68 inches average, and on a scale of two inches to the mile it is 50 paces. Timber cruisers figure on 2,000 paces to the mile, or 1,000 "cruiser paces" (double paces, as explained below).

The Application

At the start, take the bearings by compass of some object that you can see in advance. Then jog along, counting every other pace (left or right foot only) as you go. To count every single pace would be needlessly wearisome. Where there is a long distance between bearing points, drop a pebble into your pocket for every hundred double paces.

When the object you sighted is reached, mark its location on the paper, as nearly as you can, according to compass bearing and distance traversed. Until you become skilful at this without sight compass and protractor, check your first reading by turning around and taking the bearing back to your starting point.

Having located the object, draw a line from the starting point corresponding to your course, number this first stop "i," and note on the margin the number of paces from o to I, as well as the time between them. Then take a fresh bearing on some other object ahead, and continue the same way.

Time

In the wilderness, where roads generally are bad, if there are any at all, the distance traversed is of less consequence, for a mere route sketch, than the time taken to cover it. Your estimates of distance may be faulty, but your watch can be relied upon.

Time measurements also are good enough for rough mapping of open country and fairly straight courses, where it is not necessary to count paces in order to keep the general bearings correct.

Judging Distances By Eye

In thickets, swamps, blow-downs, steeps, and other places so rough that one can neither pace steadily nor judge distance by time, a man going alone must estimate by eye only. It is remarkable how skilful men can become at this by assiduous practice. Riflemen generally are good judges of distances by eye. Timber cruisers are better still. Amateurs should seldom trust their estimates of distance in the woods and mountains, or over water, for intervals of over ioo yards.

When two men travel together they can assist each other in estimating. Let your partner walk away 100 paces, then hold your pencil at arm's length, and measure his apparent height on it from pencil tip down with your thumb-nail, as an artist does in landscape sketching. Mark that point with your knife. Then let him go another 100 paces; measure and mark again. This scale can be used thereafter wherever his full height is visible.

Pedometers save considerable trouble where trails are good or the country is fairly level and open, but they are of no use in rough country, since they record every step taken, regardless of whether it is in the course or not.

Paces Of Animals

The paces of saddle animals vary according to individuals, but can soon be determined by test. This should be done both at walk and trot, counting only the double pace, like that of a man, when walking, or the rise when trotting. The pace of a horse is as uniform as that of a man. A mule's gait is still steadier and the stride is more even.

Distance By Sound

In mapping a considerable territory in the mountains, where pacing is unreliable and may be impracticable, two men can work to advantage if one carries a gun or pistol and the other a stop-watch. For example, you wish to know the distance from camp to a certain peak. The man with the gun climbs the peak, and fires a shot when he gets there, to call his comrade's attention. Then he ties his neckerchief on a stick, and, stepping out in plain view, signals with the extemporized flag, and fires at the same instant. The man in camp times, with his stop-watch, the interval between signal and arrival of the gun's report. Sound travels, in quiet open air, approximately at the following rates, according to temperature:

Velocity Of Sound

At— 30° Fahr.,

1030 ft.

per

sefc.= l

mile

in 5.13

sees

"200 "

1040

<<

= 1

a

5.08

"— 10° "

1050

«

= 1

a

5.03

0° "

1060

«

= 1

n

4.98

u

10° "

1070

u

= 1

a

4.93

"_20° "

1080

tt

= 1

a

4.88

a

«_ 3^° "

1092

u

= 1

a

4.83

it

"_40° "

1100

ft

= 1

tt

4.80

ti

"—50° "

1110

it

= 1

tt

4.78

tt

" — 60° "

1120

it

= 1

tt

4.73

tt

" — 70° "

1130

tt

— 1

tt

4.68

tt

"—80° "

1140

tt

=1

tt

4.63

tt

«_90° "

1150

It

= 1

ft

4.59

u

"_1Q0° "

1160

tl

=1

it

4.55

a

"—110° "

1170

tt

= 1

tt

4.51

u _12o° "

1180

tt

= 1

it

4.47

n

When the air is calm, fog or rain does not appreciably affect the result; wind does, of course. The report of a gun, being sharp and ioud, travels considerably faster than this for a short distance, but the above table is a close enough approximation for the purposes of sketch mapping.

Distances On Rivers

Floating down a river of fairly regular current, one may estimate distances pretty closely by keeping his boat in midstream and timing it from point to point.

Landmarks

My sketches show how landmarks are noted along the route. In the wild and uninhabited country beyond our house I would have noted old camp grounds, gaps, bad thickets, cliffs, etc., in a similar way. Where the forest and contours are of uniform character, one should establish here and there, some artificial marks. Where tree blazing is not permitted, blazed stakes may be driven, bush-marks made, stones piled, and so on, according to circumstances.

Written notes will help anyone who is to follow the route. The examples here printed were made for a friend who wanted to visit me, but who could not foretell, a day in advance, when he could get away from business. After directing him to get a U. S. Geological Survey topographical sheet for the country south of us, which was accurate up to the place where my sketch map began, I wrote him:

There are two ways to our place. One is a wagon road over which a team can haul one thousand pounds when Jupiter isn't pluviating. There are eighteen fords in the last six miles. The creek is impassable for a few hours after a smart rain. Ford to ("the deep ford") always wets a, wagon bed. Ford 12, at the Perry gap, is dangerous when there is ice. No footbridge between Hunmicut's and McCracken's, nor any habitation.

The other way is by trail across the mountain from Hunnicut's. This is always practicable for a mountain-bred horse or mule with light paick, but he must do some sliding down from either the Mc-Cracken gap or the Pullback.

Trail at Hunnicut's stable swerves sharply to the right, up a sreep bank, and thence onward goes through thick forest^ At McCracken gap our fork of the trail is marked by a small oak, with burl at height of your head, blazed last year with a cross, and pencil-marked with arrow. The trail to Indian Creek and the Cherokee reserve on Lufty is much fainter than ours.