The Young Forester by Zane Grey (life books to read .txt) 📖

“Ken, you shore was born in Texas,” drawl Jim Williams.

His remark was unrelated to our talk, I did not know what he meant by it; nevertheless it pleased me more than anything that had ever been said me in my life.

Then came the reading of letters that had a rived for me. In Hal's letter, first and last harped on having been left behind. Father sent me a check, and wrote that in the event of a trouble in the lumber district he trusted me to take the first train for Harrisburg. That, I knew, meant that I must get out of my ragged clothes. That I did, and packed them up—all except Herky sombrero, which I wore. Then I went to the railroad station to see the schedule, and I compromised with father by deciding to take the limited. The fast east-bound train had gone a little before, and the next one did not leave until six o'clock. They would give me half a day with my friends.

When I returned to the hotel Dick was looking for me. He carried me off up-stairs to a hall full of men. At one end were tables littered with papers, and here men were signing their name Dick explained that forest rangers were being paid and new ones hired. Then he introduced me officers of the service and the Chief. I knew by the way they looked at me that Dick had been talking. It made me so tongue-tied that I could not find my voice when the Chief spoke to me and shook my hand warmly. He was a tall man, with a fine face and kind eyes and hair just touched with gray.

“Kenneth Ward,” he went on, pleasantly, “I hope that letter of introduction I dictated for you some time ago has been of some service.”

“I haven't had a chance to use it yet,” I blurted out, and I dived into my pocket to bring forth the letter. It was wrinkled, soiled, and had been soaked with water. I began to apologize for its disreputable appearance when he interrupted me.

“I've heard about the ducking you got and all the rest of it,” he said, smiling. Then his manner changed to one of business and hurry.

“You are studying forestry?”

“Yes, sir. I'm going to college this fall.”

“My friend in Harrisburg wrote me of your ambition and, I may say, aptness for the forest service. I'm very much pleased. We need a host of bright young fellows. Here, look at this map.”

He drew my attention to a map lying on the table, and made crosses and tracings with a pencil while he talked.

“This is Penetier. Here are the Arizona Peaks. The heavy shading represents timbered land. All these are canyons. Here's Oak Creek Canyon, the one the fire bordered. Now I want you to tell me how you worked that back-fire, and, if you can, mark the line you fired.”

This appeared to me an easy task, and certainly one I was enthusiastic over. I told him just how I had come to the canyon, and how I saw that the fire would surely cross there, and that a back-fire was the only chance. Then, carefully studying the map, I marked off the three miles Herky and I had fired.

“Very good. You had help in this?”

“Yes. A fellow called Herky-Jerky. He was one of Buell's men who kept me a prisoner.”

“But he turned out a pretty good sort, didn't he?”

“Indeed, yes, sir.”

“Well, I'll try to locate him, and offer him a job in the service. Now, Mr. Ward, you've had special opportunities; you have an eye in your head, and you are interested in forestry. Perhaps you can help us. Personally I shall be most pleased to hear what you think might be done in Penetier.”

I gasped and stared, and could scarcely believe my ears. But he was not joking; he was as serious as if he had addressed himself to one of his officers. I looked at them all, standing interested and expectant. Dick was as grave and erect as a deacon. Jim seemed much impressed. But old Hiram Bent, standing somewhat back of the others, deliberately winked at me.

But for that wink I never could have seized my opportunity. It made me remember my talks with Hiram. So I boiled down all that I had learned and launched it on the Chief. Whether I was brief or not, I was out of breath when I stopped. He appeared much surprised.

“Thank you,” he said, finally. “You certainly have been observant.” Then he turned to his officers. “Gentlemen, here's a new point of view from first-hand observation. I call it splendid conservation. It's in the line of my policy. It considers the settler and lumberman instead of combating him.”

He shook hands with me again. “You may be sure I'll not lose sight of you. Of course you will be coming West next summer, after your term at college?”

“Yes, sir, I want to—if Dick—”

He smiled as I hesitated. That man read my mind like an open book.

“Mr. Leslie goes to the Coconina Forest as head forest ranger. Mr. Williams goes as his assistant. And I have appointed Mr. Bent game warden in the same forest. You may spend next summer with them.”

I stammered some kind of thanks, and found myself going out and down-stairs with my friends.

“Oh, Dick! Wasn't he fine?... Say, where's Coconina Forest?”

“It's over across the desert and beyond the Grand Canyon of Arizona. Penetier is tame compared to Coconina. I'm afraid to let you come out there.”

“I don't have to ask you, Mr. Dick,” I replied.

“Lad, I'll need a young fellar bad next summer,” said old Hiram, with twinkling eyes. “One as can handle a rope, an' help tie up lions an' sich.”

“Oh! my bear cub! I'd forgotten him. I wanted to take him home.”

“Wal, thar weren't no sense in thet, youngster, fer you couldn't do it. He was a husky cub.”

“I hate to give up my mustang, too. Dick, have you heard of the Greaser?”

“Not yet, but he'll be trailing into Holston before long.”

Jim Williams removed his pipe, and puffed a cloud of white smoke.

“Ken, I shore ain't fergot Greaser,” he drawled with his slow smile. “Hev you any pertickler thing you want did to him?”

“Jim, don't kill him!” I burst out, impetuously, and then paused, frightened out of speech. Why I was afraid of him I did not know, he seemed so easy-going, so careless—almost sweet, like a woman; but then I had seen his face once with a look that I could never forget.

“Wal, Ken, I'll dodge Greaser if he ever crosses my trail again.”

That promise was a relief. I knew Greaser would come