Spying Out the Land
All too rapidly the days passed. Occasionally a shower moistened the
surface of the ground, but for the most part the dry weather continued,
with every hour increasing the fire hazard. During the first few days
Charley was never free from a feeling of dread. Every time he awoke he
expected to smell fire. Every trip to the watch tree was made in the fear
that somewhere within his vision there would be telltale clouds of smoke
arising. A nervous apprehension seized upon him, and a mortal fear of
fire; and a growing disbelief in his own power kept him in a state of
unconquerable anxiety.
All these were sensations new to Charley, though they were normal enough.
The natural result of responsibility, they were coupled with Charley's
keen realization of the insignificance of his own or any one else's powers
as opposed to the vast forces of nature. Had Charley never seen a forest
fire, had he never done battle with the raging flames, he could not have
had this sharp realization of the insignificance of his own strength. But
the recent struggle with the forest fire and that far more desperate
battle with the same enemy years before, when the Wireless Patrol was in
camp at Fort Brady, had given Charley a true estimate of the well-nigh
irresistible fury of a fire in the forest, should conditions be favorable
to the flames.
Only luck, Charley realized, and the best of luck, had brought him and Lew
out victorious in their recent contest. The next time fire started--and he
knew well enough that there would be a next time--there might be a strong
wind, or to reach the blaze might take him hours, or he might not be able
to summon help with his wireless, or other unfavorable conditions might
arise to render his efforts useless. Then the forest would go roaring up
in flame. And even though he might not have been unfaithful to his trust,
the result would be the same. The timber would be destroyed. This great
forest would be consumed. And he, especially selected to guard and protect
it, would have failed. The thought was overwhelming.
More and more Charley turned to his wireless as a drowning man clutches at
a straw. He saw that when Lew had gone and he had nothing but his own
powers to depend upon, the wireless was going to be like a life-line to
him. He realized that to have the powerful battery he wanted was
imperative, if he was to have even a chance to make good in his efforts to
protect the forest. And as he and Lew patrolled the timber, he made it
evident to his chum what a vital part that battery would play in his
success. But neither of them saw any way for Charley to come into
immediate possession of it.
As the days passed and the forest still slumbered in safety, the sharp
edge of Charley's anxiety wore off. That, too, was normal, for he could
not naturally remain at such a pitch of emotion. So his interest in the
life about him gradually returned. And indeed there were innumerable
objects to interest a nature lover like Charley.
The country itself was enough to make a nature lover happy. When Charley
climbed his watch tree and looked about, he could see nothing but forest.
East, west, north, south, league upon league, far as the eye could see and
much farther, stretched the forest, like a huge green sea. The mountains
rose like great waves; and from his lofty perch Charley could see several
parallel ridges rearing their crests aloft on either side of him.
Distinctly he could see the two bottoms at the foot of the mountain on
which stood his watch tree. Splendid stands of timber filled these valleys
with swelling streams of water that flashed in the sunlight here and there
through little openings in the trees. But what lay in the farther valleys
he could only guess, though he knew that each must have its stream and
some timber. What else there might be Charley did not know.
It was part of his work as a patrol to find out. And eagerly he looked
forward to the daily hikes that would take him here or there or elsewhere
in the great forest. Already he loved it; and he wanted to share all its
secrets. Had Charley but known it, that very attitude of mind made him
more valuable both to his ranger and to the forester. It meant that his
work would not be done in a perfunctory manner, but with that genuine
interest born of love that alone leads to perfect service.
The two chums made themselves familiar with their own valley from the
border line of the state lands above the beaver dam, to a point many miles
below their own camp. They found that they were in the heart of the stand
of virgin timber, and that the location of their camp was by far the best
that could have been chosen for the purpose of guarding the stand.
Charley thought it wonderful that the forester could offhand select such a
strategic point. He felt more certain than ever that Mr. Marlin must have
an intimate knowledge of the territory over which he had jurisdiction.
Could Charley have known how intimate that knowledge was, he would have
been amazed. And what he did not even guess was the fact that the forester
had planned just such a secret watch on the big timber as Charley was now
keeping, and that he had selected the camp site only after days of
investigation.
Nor did Charley so much as dream that for some time Mr. Marlin had been
looking about for some one he could trust to do the work. The native
mountaineers did not command Mr. Marlin's entire confidence, nor did many
of them possess the intelligence or education he desired in the man he
selected.
Yet his sudden choice of Charley was characteristic of the forester. He
always acted quickly when he thought the time for action had come.
Charley's grit and pluck in voluntarily fighting the fire, coupled with
his membership in the Wireless Patrol, were the factors that led Mr.
Marlin to engage him at once. Had Charley known these facts, he might have
felt a bit conceited or at least elated over the situation. But his belief
was, as Mr. Marlin wished it to be, that the forester had taken him only
as a last resort. And Charley was working hard to make good. He could
hardly have taken a better way than the road he had chosen--to make
himself familiar with all the territory he was to guard, and so to prepare
himself for the emergencies that lay ahead of him.
Every day, and every hour of each day, the two boys found much that
excited their wonder, for now they were studying nature at first-hand.
Taking their dog, they one day climbed the mountain beyond the one on
which their watch-tower stood, and came down into a lovely valley. But
what instantly arrested their attention was the face of the mountain on
the far side of this valley.
Instead of being a timbered slope, this mountain was a sheer precipice of
rock that rose abruptly a thousand feet in air. Its rugged sides were
seamed and scarred. Here and there a projecting ledge offered a scant
foothold, but mostly the face of the cliff was one vast, frowning rock
that rose almost perpendicularly. On tiny ledges and in crevices of the
rock little ferns grew in masses, hanging down the face of the cliff like
green fringes. Wild flowers had taken possession of the crannies. In
precarious footholds, where it seemed impossible for them to exist, a few
trees had sprung up, their roots crawling fantastically over the rocks in
search of bits of earth to grow in, while the tops of the trees stood up
slantingly against the face of the cliff. Mostly they were evergreens, and
their scraggly branches made irregular dark masses on the face of the
precipice.
As the two boys made their way toward the foot of this cliff, a great bird
came soaring over the top of it, and sailed in lofty circles over the
valley.
"Look at that hawk!" cried Lew. "Isn't he a whopper? Look at the spread of
his wings. And see how he soars, without ever moving a muscle. I wonder if
he can see us."
Evidently the bird saw something, for suddenly it tilted downward, shot
toward the earth like a flash, and was lost to sight behind the trees.
"Whew!" cried Charley. "Did you see that drop? It almost took my breath
away to watch him."
A moment later the bird rose into sight again, bearing in its talons a
dark-colored animal of some sort. Though the animal was not large, it must
have weighed many pounds. Yet the bird flew upward swiftly, lifting
himself rapidly with strong strokes of its wings.
"Gee whiz!" exclaimed Charley, after watching the bird a moment. "That's
no hawk! That's an eagle. It's a bald eagle, too. See his white tail and
head and the bare shanks?"
"Are you sure?" demanded Lew. "I've always wanted to see a bald eagle.
It's our national emblem, you know."
"I'm pretty sure that's one," replied Charley. "I've read about them and
seen pictures of them, and that bird's exactly like the pictures. We can
see his legs well because he's holding them straight down. They're bare.
The golden eagle has feathers all the way to his toes."
"Gee! I'm glad we saw him," exclaimed Lew. "Look where he's going."
The bird flew straight toward the cliff, climbing upward with tremendous
speed. He flew directly to a ledge far up the precipice, where he vanished
from sight.
"That's where the nest is. I'll bet anything on it," said Charley. "We'll
keep an eye on this place and see if there are any little eagles later in
the season."
For some time they watched the ledge to which the eagle had flown, but the
bird did not again come into sight. Evidently the ledge was much wider
than it appeared to be from the bottom of the valley, and perhaps the face
of the cliff was worn away, cave like, at that point, affording a secure
retreat. At any rate, the eagle was seen no more.
"Well," said Lew, after a time, "if we can't see the eagle again, perhaps
we can find out what sort of an animal it was he got. I think I can pretty
nearly point out the spot where he landed."
They started toward the point at which the eagle had come to earth. When
they thought they were near the place they began to search the ground
carefully for some signs of the tragedy that had occurred. They looked in
vain. Nowhere could they find any telltale marks.
"I suspect it must have been a coon," suggested Charley. "It looked like
it to me. We know there are lots of them in this forest."
Just then the excited chattering of squirrels attracted them. They began
to examine the trees about them. Presently they came to one around which
were scattered innumerable shells of nuts that had been gnawed into and
eaten.
"There must be squirrels in that tree," said Lew.
Now muffled squeaks of fear or pain were audible. The two boys looked at
each other questioningly.
"There are squirrels up there all right," agreed Charley, "and something's
wrong. That's exactly the way a squirrel sounds when it's in trouble. Yes;
there are some squirrels in the tree top. They're terribly excited over
something."
The boys began to examine the tree. It was an old oak. Well up its trunk a
limb had broken or rotted away, and the resulting decay of the stub had
made a hole in the tree itself. What instantly riveted the attention of
the two boys was something black and tapering that projected from the
hole and that slowly waved in the air.
"A blacksnake!" cried Charley. "He's probably eaten the little squirrels."
In a second Charley was shinning up the tree. Not far below the squirrel
hole the stub of another old limb projected. Charley pulled himself up and
got a footing on it. He drew his little axe from his hip, and, yanking the
snake half-way out of the hole, broke its back with a sharp blow of the
axe, and then threw the reptile to the ground. Lew was on it like a flash
with his feet, tramping it to death. In the snake's mouth was a small
squirrel still kicking and making muffled noises.
Charley slid to the ground, drew his knife and slit the snake's head,
releasing the young squirrel. It was hurt and terribly frightened, but was
apparently not really injured. Charley kept it in his hand, feeling for
broken bones.
"I don't believe this squirrel is really harmed a bit," he said finally,
"but it was a pretty close call. I'm going to put it back in the nest
again."
He put the little creature in his pocket, then again shinned up the tree,
and placed the squirrel in its nest. Meantime, the old squirrels in the
tree top chattered incessantly.
"Nobody's going to hurt you," said Charley, looking upward through the
branches. "We're only trying to help you."
When he came to earth once more he examined the snake. "He's a big
fellow," he said, stretching the reptile out straight. "He's a good deal
more than six feet long. I guess we'll take his skin and make a belt of
it."
As he drew out his knife again and proceeded to skin the snake, he
continued, "I don't believe in killing snakes as a general rule, but
blacksnakes do more harm than good, I believe. It's true they kill rats
and mice, but they also eat birds' eggs and young birds and squirrels, and
no end of other useful creatures. And they are so active that one snake
will kill a great number in the course of a year."
"I don't understand how they can eat anything so big as that young
squirrel," said Lew, "but I know they do."
"Really they don't," laughed Charley. "They drag themselves outside of
their prey. You know their jaws are loose so they can spread them, and
their teeth point backward. What they do is to work the upper jaw and then
the lower, hooking their teeth into their food, pulling back with each
half of the jaw in turn. You see they literally pull themselves over their
prey. Well, I'm glad we got that fellow. I suppose it's my business to
kill all the blacksnakes I can. Whatever harms the squirrels, hurts the
forest."
"What do you mean?" asked Lew.
"Why, you know that squirrels help to plant the nut trees in a forest.
Some tree seeds, like pine and maple seeds, are so small or light that
they are carried easily by birds and winds, and so scattered about. But
acorns and nuts are so heavy that they fall straight down to the earth. If
the squirrels didn't carry them away and bury them in such quantities, how
could we ever have had these great stands of nut and oak trees?"
"I never thought of that," said Lew.
"It looks as though what Mr. Marlin said was right--walking about through
the forest is only a small part of a forest guard's work. He's got to know
an awful lot about things before he can be sure just what he ought to do."
"I never had any idea how big a job it is, Lew. And think what a forester
must have to know. I tell you it takes a man to fill a job like that."
Noon came. The boys grew hungry. "I could eat all the sandwiches we have
myself," smiled Charley. "I wonder if we couldn't catch some trout to help
out. It would be all right to make a fire over here, I'm sure. And we'll
keep it so small it won't make any smoke. And even if it did, it couldn't
possibly betray the location of our camp."
They made their way to the stream in the middle of the valley, baited
their hooks, and dropped them into the water. In no time they had half a
dozen fine trout.
"You clean 'em, Lew," suggested Charley, "and I'll make a little
fireplace."
He selected a little shoulder of earth close to the run and began to dig
into it with a stick. In a moment he had uncovered a deposit of solid
clay. The clay was hard to dig, but he could shape his fireplace in it
exactly as he wanted it. When the task was completed, he started a very
small fire with leaves and small branches. By careful feeding, he kept the
flames burning clear, with almost no smoke. Presently he had a bed of
glowing coals that almost filled the little fireplace.
Lew, meantime, had cleaned the fish and cut some black birch branches
which he thrust through the fish lengthwise. Squatting beside the little
fire, the two boys now held the fish over the coals, turning them slowly,
and roasting them thoroughly. With the addition of the trout, their meal
was ample.
They ate slowly, and after their meal sat for a time beside their fire in
the warm sun, watching the forest life about them, and listening to the
song of the brook and the myriad other sounds of the woods. Finally they
prepared to leave. The fire had shrunken to a white bed of ashes.
"We'll make sure that it is out," commented Charley. And he stepped to the
run and got a hatful of water, which he poured on the ashes. To his
astonishment the ashes were washed away, leaving the fireplace bare. The
fireplace had changed color and looked as though made of brick. He touched
it and found it as hard as stone.
"Fire-clay," he said. "That's probably worth something. I'll take a sample
along."
He dug away more top-soil and scooped out a big ball of clay. Then he
filled in the holes he had made, covering up all traces of the clay
deposit, and blazed a tree near by to identify the spot.
The journey back to the camp was made by a route different from the one
taken in the morning, the boys following the stream down the valley for a
distance before crossing back to their own valley. The first fishermen
they had encountered were seen on the return trip. The men were wading in
the stream below the boys and so did not observe the young fire guards
behind them. Charley and Lew instantly slipped behind trees, and after
watching the men until they were lost to sight, struck off toward their
camp. They got there shortly before sunset. While Lew prepared supper,
Charley once more made his way up to the watch tree, where he remained
until dusk.
Early in the evening they got into touch with their friends at Central
City, and through them sent a reassuring good-night to the forester. Then,
too tired to listen to the night's news, they wrapped themselves in their
blankets and were soon sound asleep.