If you have an innate sense of direction, train it. If you have none, do not venture out into the wilderness except with someone who has. Always tell people where you are going. If you are not familiar with the use of a rifle you would better have a shrill whistle or a tin horn to use in case you want to summon anyone. Sun and wind should be part of your compass; the trees, too. You will, of course, learn how to blaze a trail, and the sooner you do this the better, for it is good training in following out a point of the compass. The wilderness is full of signs of direction for your use, some of which are certain to be serviceable at different times, and some of which will not prove dependable. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. At high noon of a September day, if you turn your back squarely to the sun, you will be looking directly north. The wind is a helper, too. When the sun rises, notice the direction of the wind, and, while it does not shift, it will prove a good compass or guide. If it is very light, wet the finger and hold it up. By doing this the wind will serve you as a compass. Remember, also, that the two lowest stars of the Big Dipper point toward the North Star, which is always a guide to be used in charting a wilderness way. Also on the north sides of trees there is greater thickness to the bark and more moss. This is, I suppose, because the trees, being unexposed to the sunlight on the north side, retain the moisture longer there. Some say, too, that the very topmost finger of an evergreen points toward the north. Even in civilization they usually do. To become familiar with a compass is a very simple matter. Every boy learns this lesson, and there is no reason why girls should not do the same. Never buy a cheap compass; it is not to be relied upon. To the amateur in the woods a good one is not a friend at which to scoff. A few expeditions out behind the cabin will teach you all you need to know about its use. If by some miscalculation a girl should get lost, let her realize then that the great demand is that she shall keep her head on her shoulders, where it has been placed, and where she will need to make use of it. Let her sit down and think, reviewing all that has happened, and trying to solve the problem of what she is to do. A panic is the last and worst thing in which she can afford to indulge. To most people at some time or other comes the conviction that they are lost--a conviction happily dispelled in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand. In this, as in everything, a miss is as good as a mile, and one does well to make light of unavoidable mistakes.