THEIR DAY AT HOME
"What is wrong about the fire, sir?" questioned Grace pleasantly.
"Have you a permit to build fires in these woods?"
"We have not," spoke up Hippy. "Why?"
"Then put it out!"
"Just a moment, old top. Who sent you here?" demanded Hippy.
"The Dusenbery outfit that's cutting on Forty-three notified me by
telephone yesterday that a party of campers had set on fire and burned
off several thousand feet of timber. He said there were two men and a
party of women--that they were rough-necks, and a lot of other things. I
haven't anything to do with that, but I'm going to see to it that you
don't do any more damage to the forest."
"Peg Tatem, eh?" reflected Hippy. "How did you find us? Did Peg tell you
where we were?"
"I saw your smoke yesterday, but couldn't rightly place you till this
morning when I smelled your smoke and found I was close to you. Are you
going to douse the fire?"
"I think not, sir," answered Grace.
The ranger sprang from his horse and strode towards the campfire. Hippy
stepped between him and the blaze.
"Don't do anything childish. Let the fire alone. When we want the fire
out we will put it out ourselves," reminded Lieutenant Wingate.
The ranger drew back an arm as if about to strike at the Overland Rider
when a menacing growl at his side caused the forest man to spring back.
He had recognized that growl instantly. Henry, standing on his hind
legs, "arms" extended, was ready for fight, following a gentle prodding
and a "Sick 'im, Henry," from his mistress.
The ranger whipped out his revolver.
"Drop that gun!" yelled Joe Shafto. "That's my bear!"
"Don't shoot! He is a pet bear," admonished Lieutenant Wingate. "That is
Henry. Oh, are you awake?" he added, as Hindenburg rolled over, blinked,
and then dashed out and began barking at the stranger.
"What's this--a circus?" wondered the ranger.
"I give ye fair notice it'll be a circus if ye don't let that bear be,"
warned the forest woman in a shrill high-pitched voice.
"Put away your gun, Mister Man. There's nothing to shoot here, unless
you get too confounded obstreperous," urged Hippy, now smiling. "My
name's Wingate, Lieutenant Wingate, late of the Army Flying Corps in our
late unpleasantness with the Hun. What's yours?"
"Chatworth's my name. I'm the warden up here, and, not having a permit
to have a fire in the forest, you'll have to hit the lumber trail for
the open country."
"Nothing doing! You will have to dope out something better than that to
induce us to leave," grinned Hippy.
Grace demanded to know where the ranger got his authority for stating
that they should have a fire permit.
"It's my authority!" he answered brusquely.
"Who told you to assume such authority?" interjected Miss Briggs in the
calm judicial voice that was hers when trying a lawsuit.
"I'm not answering fool questions. You heard what I said. Are you
going?"
"Well--yes, of course we are going, but it may be a month or two before
we do go. If you will kindly give me your address I'll drop you a
picture card later on, telling you when we expect to leave the Big North
Woods," drawled Lieutenant Wingate.
"Hippy, I do not believe that Mr. Chatworth fully understands who and
what we are," interjected Grace. "We take such trips as this one every
summer, sir, and we are not greenhorns in the forest. We realize the
danger of fire to the forests as fully as well as you do. For your
information, I will merely say that we were in no wise to blame for the
fire at Section Forty-three. A tree fell over and scattered the embers
of our campfire, thus starting the forest fire and--"
"All the more reason why you're not fit to be in the woods," answered
the ranger roughly.
"Cut the rough talk!" admonished Lieutenant Wingate severely. "Had it
not been for us that blaze would have swept the whole state. We fought
it all night and until nearly noon next day. Stop growling! If you keep
on growling the bear and my bull pup will think you are an animal and
sail into you for keeps."
"As I was about to say," reminded Grace, "my husband is a forester and
is in the North Woods now on official business. He was with us when the
fire occurred, and will join us further along in a few weeks."
"Eh? What's his name?" demanded the ranger sharply, eyeing Grace with
new interest in his eyes.
"Tom Gray," answered Grace.
"Is he the fellow that's cruising the timber up here for the state?"
"Yes."
"Humph! Why didn't you say so before?"
"I presume because you did not ask me," returned Grace demurely. "Now
that you understand, won't you please sit down and have breakfast with
us? We have plenty and really shall be glad to have you."
"Well, I reckon I might as well," decided the ranger, striding over and
tying his horse to a sapling.
Hippy introduced him to the members of the Overland party, the ranger
bowing awkwardly, but with the quiet dignity so characteristic of those
who have learned their lesson from the heart of nature herself.
"Sorry, folks, that I had to be up a tree with you, but we must do our
duty and protect this forest. There are not many of 'em left in these
United States, and what there is, are going fast. I'll have a snack with
you."
"Peace has been declared," murmured Emma.
"Keep that menagerie away! I don't like bears nosing around me any
more'n I do wolves."
"Wolves!" exclaimed Nora. "We heard one last night."
"There are lots of 'em up here and they kill the game. The state offers
a bounty of seven dollars and a half for every one killed--every
full-grown critter; ten dollars for cubs."
"You say the state desires to get rid of them?" questioned Emma.
"All states do. They're varmints," answered the ranger.
"Why don't they try dynamite?" asked Emma. "Perhaps the wolves might eat
it and go off."
"Call the bear," suggested Hippy after a brief silence.
The Overland Riders shouted, and the forest ranger grinned, the bull pup
joining in the merriment by barking and dashing about the camp, taking a
gentle nip at Henry's flank as he passed that none too good-natured
beast.
"I reckon this _is_ a circus after all," choked the guide, trying to
talk and eat a slice of tough bacon at the same time. "Tell me what
happened about that fire. I reckon you haven't told the whole of it."
Hippy thereupon related what they had discovered after the fire, as well
as the experiences they had gone through preceding the fire, to all of
which the forest ranger lent an attentive ear.
"Hm-m-m!" he mused. "Reckon you haven't heard the last of that outfit.
Tatem'll have it up his sleeve for you long as he lives. Keep your eyes
peeled. That Dusenbery outfit is the biggest set of timber thieves in
the North Woods and I hope we catch 'em. Do I understand that your
husband is looking for 'timber-lookers' who are looking for easy money
on the sly, Mrs. Gray?"
"He may be," smiled Grace diplomatically.
"Mebby I'll run across him. Thanks for the snack. Thanks to you, Miss
Dean, for the wolf suggestion. I'll pass it on to the Game and Fish
Commissioner at St. Paul. I'll be off now."
"How about this campfire, 'Chatty'? Do you still insist that we put it
out?" questioned Hippy solemnly.
"Well," answered the ranger, stroking his chin reflectively, "being as
its you and further, being that I've broken bacon with you and heard a
real funny joke from Miss Dean here, I reckon I don't. 'Bye, folks. See
you some other time." The ranger led out his horse, mounted and rode
away.
"That obstacle overcome," announced Miss Briggs in a tone of relief, "I
wonder what next."
"If you will kindly cast your eyes downstream I think you will discover
three more obstacles on the way to the Overland camp, and, from the look
of them, I am inclined to feel that they are not harbingers of delight.
Girls, this really seems to be our 'Day at Home,'" said Grace Harlowe
laughingly.
"Good night!" exclaimed Hippy Wingate after a quick glance downstream.
"Give Henry a poke in the ribs, Joe. Here's more trouble!"