"How about this big tree ?" There was a very large and beautiful tree in the glade we had just entered, with thick wide-spreading branches that sloped out in lapping fans like a beech or pine.

It was trimmed underneath some twenty feet up, and stood there like a huge umbrella, with circling seats beneath.
"Look," he pursued.

"There are short stumps of branches left to climb on.

There's someone up that tree, I believe." We stole near, cautiously.
"Look out for a poisoned arrow in your eye," I suggested, but Terry pressed forward, sprang up on the seat-back, and grasped the trunk.

"In my heart, more likely," he answered.