The Young Wireless Operator—As a Fire Patrol: Or, The Story of a Young Wireless Amateur Who Made Good as a Fire PatrolTheiss, Lewis E. (Lewis Edwin)
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The Young Wireless Operator—As a Fire Patrol: Or, The Story of a Young Wireless Amateur Who Made Good as a Fire Patrol
Theiss, Lewis E. (Lewis Edwin)
Forest fires -- Prevention and control -- Juvenile fiction; Radio operators -- Juvenile fiction
As the ranger had foretold, the forest guards did indeed pull foot early
in the morning. Black darkness still enfolded the camp when the ranger
awoke his young companions. Fire was speedily kindled and breakfast gotten
under way.
"Better eat your meat, boys," suggested the ranger. "Otherwise it will
keep that cat hanging around here. We'll hardly dare to leave the pup
behind again, and that beast might get in here and tear your tent to
pieces. These cats play hob with things sometimes."
Lew decided that he would carry nothing back with him, as he contemplated
visiting his chum at intervals.
"Just take your rifle," said the ranger to Charley. "You'll be all alone
on your return trip and with two such animals as we've seen hereabout, it
will be just as well to have it. If I were you, I believe I'd make a
pretty close companion of it and always keep it within reach."
When they left the camp, they were burdened only with Charley's rifle and
food for the noon meal, which they stowed in their pockets. The instant
there was light enough to guide their footsteps, the trio set forth.
For hours they trudged through the forest, for the most part in silence.
Although they traveled by a circuitous route, and with eyes and ears
alert, they neither saw nor heard anything that pointed to the presence of
other human beings in the forest. The ground bore no telltale footprints.
No incriminating marks were discernible on the trees. Smoke was nowhere
visible. No firearm disturbed the silence of the wilderness. No birds flew
upward with cries of alarm, save at their own approach. And the only
voices that were audible were the voices of the brooks.
Under other circumstances Charley would have been supremely happy. The sun
came up bright and clear. No veil of mist floated before the face of the
sky. But woolly, white cloud banks sailed lazily aloft, intensifying by
contrast the blue of the sky. A gentle wind blew fitfully. The earth
steamed fragrantly, sending up an odor joyful to the nostrils. And the
little brooks babbled wildly in their joy at the spring-time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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