WORK ON A NATIONAL FOREST 



475 



may have to turn around in an hour 

 or so and hit the back trails. Our 

 horses begin to have a chance to keep in 

 condition all summer. That is one 

 reason why we are doing our best to put 

 up more telephone lines. We still have 

 district centers up here in Sierra, from 

 which it takes a week to get a reply 

 to a letter ! A few days ago we had 

 ten fires all at the same time in our 

 3,000,000-acre forest. Summer thun- 

 der storms and lightning-struck trees 

 started most of them. Our rangers 

 were toiling everywhere ; "dead on our 

 feet," as one boy said. "Sixty hours 



hard places, where no trails can ever be 

 made, for it is a little and stupid thing 

 to be merely able to follow a plain 

 trail from one point to another. One 

 only does that because energy should 

 not be wasted. But there are times 

 when you and your horse go together 

 "across lots," following water courses, 

 or ridges, or striking through an en- 

 tirely new country, as if you had been 

 dropped from an air-ship into the midst 

 of a strange continent of Saturn. Then 

 the horse draws strength from your 

 intelligence, and you, if you are wise, 

 learn to use more of his than you had 



Rangers and Their Families Breaking Camp 



without a nap," as another reported. 

 Several rangers pushed their horses all 

 day and all night, leaving one con- 

 quered fire to ride into another district 

 and help the men there. So you may 

 understand why one ranger, when the 

 new telephone line reached his cabin 

 went out and gave all his horses an 

 extra feed of barley, and told them to 

 celebrate the event. 



But all the telephones on earth will 

 never do away with the need of meet- 

 ing men face to face, and so we shall 

 always use horses on mountain trails 

 and through the forests. We shall al- 

 ways have that quiet and perfect un- 

 derstanding between man and horse 

 which only comes from lonely rides in 



before thought possible. (At least 

 that is the way that Tiapo and I travel 

 together.) 



You and your horse go down into 

 some vast canon where no trail exists, 

 but which you mean to cross. Pretty 

 soon you dismount and pick your way, 

 your horse following, unled, with little 

 questioning murmurs, and with his 

 heart in his eyes. It is easily possible 

 for you to get him down places that 

 he cannot possibly climb up, and, there- 

 fore, if you do not think out a way 

 back, inch by inch, as you go down, you 

 may presently find a hundred feet of 

 sheer granite, and so, being unable to 

 go forward (or backward except on 



