"Oh, Ranger!" * * * * * 7 



In old Harry Yount's day it was enough if a ranger could maintain 

 order in the park and protect the wild life. Today that is but the begin 

 ning of his job. The ranger must be a guide and an interpreter of the 

 mountains and their moods and mysteries. He must be a practical 

 naturalist, and a friend and counselor to the Dude and the Sagebrusher. 

 He may be entertaining a reigning prince one day and fighting a forest 

 fire the next. He must be tactful, courteous, and ever patient, even 

 when ridiculous and foolish situations are provoked by visitors. 



Ranger Martindale was giving an informal talk to a group of dele 

 gates to a religious convention, gathered about the cone of Old Faithful 

 Geyser. The ranger had just explained how the cone had been formed 

 over a long period of years by deposits from the hot water when he 

 was interrupted peremptorily. 



"Ranger, how long did you say it took to make this cone ?" 



"About forty thousand years," Martindale told the questioner. 



"Young man, do you ever read your Bible ?" 



"Yes, sometimes." 



"Then you know that the world is not yet forty thousand years old, 

 nor a half, nor a quarter of that." 



"But we have measured the annual deposit on this cone and we can 

 calculate how long it took to build it up as high as it is," said the ranger. 



"Well, if you had read your Bible more carefully, you would know 

 that it took the Lord only six days to make the whole world," asserted 

 the visitor decisively. "If He wanted to, I guess He could make ten 

 Yellowstones in ten minutes !" 



With that he strode off. 



There is the tale of the peanut tree of Mount Rainier National 

 Park. Guides would point out a certain pine tree near Paradise Valley 

 and sure enough there were peanuts sticking in the clusters of pine 

 needles. A family of squirrels, if not frightened by too many visitors, 

 usually spoiled his story. Their chief ambition in life, apparently, was 

 to carry peanuts, provided by friendly 

 rangers, to the limbs of the tree, where 

 the nuts remained until the wind or the 

 birds jarred them loose, whereupon the 

 squirrels tackled their job of re-peanut- 

 ting the pine tree all over again. 



Sometimes a joke will save the day. 

 Sometimes, though, the wise-crack makes 

 trouble. There was the old lady who 

 asked a driver why the great piles of 

 wood were stacked along the road near 

 Old Faithful. 



