718 



AMERICAN FORESTRY 



and ammunition; Bisbee did a little business with the 

 tourists in sports clothing; the blacksmith shop had be- 

 come a garage, but the roads were bad. . 



But every now and then Rube Pottle, a little thinner, 

 a trifle grayer, would pop in on one of his erstwhile 

 cronies to put a little touch of paint on the picture, as he 

 called it. They were too disgusted to chase him ofT, in 

 the beginning; after a while it was sort of funny, watch- 

 ing his predictions go wrong. . . .Of course, now 

 and then he was right. About the automobiles, for 

 instance. l[i ^ 



"But you'll never make it a resort town," Mclntyre 

 argued doggedly. "They'll go up the lake shore where 

 k's cool; they want this-here golf and tennis and fine 

 hotels." 



"Sure," agreed Rube. "But here's th' Blueberry, an' 

 t h e r e's the 

 swamps. . . . 

 By th' way, 

 th' Company's 

 hired a fella 

 who knows a 

 lot about trees. 

 Forester, they 

 call him." 



Mac simply 

 grunted and 

 stared into the 

 street and 

 wished that he 

 could get out 

 of Blueberry. 

 Ten years, of 

 just running 

 behind ! But 

 he couldn't get 

 out. 



" Forester, " 

 repeated Rube. 

 "Little more 

 green, Mac !" 

 And he made 

 a gesture, as if 

 wielding a brush. 



Indeed, a little more green. Down the line, out of the 

 Company holdings, the country had become barren, its 

 young growth was cut down annually by fire, its stream 

 lay sluggish or rushing and roiled as bald ridges shed 

 their rain; a deadly land with little wild life and no 

 beauty. But up here . . . for a dozen miles each 

 way along the main line, Old Rube had kept her green. 

 Nobody paid much attention to him. He had had himself 

 appointed fire warden and used to spend some Company 

 money for equipment and men and once they heard that 

 he had even hired some boys to sit in tall trees and watch 

 for smoke. . . . Foolishness, of course. Still, she 

 was getting green. . . . That second growth pine 

 was coming along. . 



Photograph by the State Forester. 

 THE TOURISTS CAME NOW BECAUSE THE BLUEBEKKY. MITH FORESTED SHORES. 

 OFFERED WHAT THEY WANTED. 



Oh, yes; about that road. First it was just a grade; 

 then gravel and with the gravel more automobiles came, 

 stringing along from May until snow. It made the 

 garage a busy place. It made Old Rube tear down the 

 boarding house and put up a new place, the Blueberry 

 Inn. Crazy Old Rube built her of logs and stained 

 shingles and to make it modern and up-to-date like city 

 folks were used" to, he heated the downstairs with fire 

 places and made the dining-room look like a cook 

 shanty. 



Now, why did they come? They came because the 

 Blueberry drawing life now from a forested instead of a 

 fire-swept land, ofTered what they wanted. It stayed cold, 

 it kept an even flow and made a happy home for trout ; 

 the feeders ran back into green swamps where fire had 

 not ravaged ; it kept itself stocked because so many of 



those feeders 

 were unfish- 

 able. Those 

 tourists came 

 for the fishing. 

 And they put 

 up grouse that 

 had refuge in 

 good cover as 

 they went in 

 and out of the 

 stream, and the 

 grouse grow- 

 ing fewer in 

 other, burned- 

 over parts 

 called them 

 back in Octo- 

 ber. They saw 

 deer now and 

 then, and the 

 deer held them 

 over until No- 

 vember. Three 

 years after the 

 Blueberry Inn 

 was built, Rube 

 had to put on two more wings and widened the cook 

 shanty so he could seat thirty more people at a meal. 

 The natural play grounds of the people in other parts of 

 the state were burning up, settling up. Blueberry, green 

 and filled with life, was unique, indeed ! 



Other things happened. Everybody didn't stay at the 

 Inn. They camped. They bought lodge sites and put up 

 cabins, and one day Rube ambled through Main street 

 adding another dab to his picture. He'd sold a piece of 

 land to a farmer. Yes, sir! That Dark Creek bottom. 

 "Good soil, there," said Rube. "Berries and milk and 

 vegetables for the dudes!" In three years after thzt first 

 little truck farm was established a dozen were scattered 

 along the creek bottoms where spots of good soil showed. 

 They had a market at hand for their specialties, and the 



