"Finest timber I ever set eyes on, Lew. Isn't it wonderful? and to think that the whole state was once covered with timber like that!" They climbed down the rude ladder, slipped their packs over their shoulders, and set off down the mountainside at a fast pace. And they could go fast in such timber. No underbrush tripped them or caught in their sacks. No low limbs impeded their progress. Indeed there was hardly a limb nearer the ground than fifty feet. Their only care was for the rocks and the roughness underfoot. From time to time they paused as they came to some mammoth pine, and gazed in awed wonder at its huge bulk. As they got down into the bottom the timber seemed to be even larger than it was on the slope. The forest floor was soft and springy. Their feet sank into it as into a soft, thick rug. The top of this leafy covering was dry enough; but a few inches under the surface, the forest mold was as moist as though a shower had just fallen. Yet there had been almost no rain for months. Not only did the leaves hold the moisture, but the very shade itself conserved it by preventing evaporation. In the very centre of the valley ran a little stream. Long before they could see it, they heard the brook talking to itself. The forest was filled with a gentle murmur, which grew to a distinct rushing sound as they approached the stream. "Can't you just hear it speak?" said Lew. "What do you suppose it is saying?" "Those really are voices," insisted Charley. "Now who's getting dippy?" laughed Lew. "You'll be as bad as I am if you keep on." "But I do hear voices," protested Charley. "I plainly heard the word 'six.' Listen. Somebody said 'eight,' just as plain as could be." Lew looked puzzled. "Of course there might be some fishermen in here besides ourselves," he said. They looked carefully about them, but at first saw nothing. Then a voice distinctly said, "Hemlock--five." There could no longer be any doubt. Some one besides themselves was in the forest. They made their way in the direction of the sound. Presently they saw three men. Two of them carried calipers and walked in advance. The third came behind and held a pencil and note-book. "Wonder who they are and what they are doing," Charley said quietly. "Let's watch and see." But in a moment the approaching party caught sight of them. "Good-morning, boys," said the man with the note-book. "Out for trout?" "Surest thing you know," replied Lew. "But we've had hard luck. We intended to fish in the valley back of us. It used to be a fine place for trout. But it's been burned over and there are no trout left." "I know," said the man. "I've seen it. Be careful with your fires, boys. We don't want any more of this fine timber burned." "Are you a forest-ranger, too?" asked Charley eagerly. "No; I'm the forester. I have charge of this forest." "Why, I thought you were at headquarters with your fire crew," cried Charley, hardly realizing what he was saying.