It had been a long, hard day for Bill Bruce. He had fished all morning and had rested a while after lunch, but since the time that Cecil had left, he had been working hard. The automobile trip to Couch’s ranch had been only ten or fifteen miles and had lasted but a comparatively few minutes, but the hike through the woods and the fire-fighting were much different.

Exhausted by the hard hike through the underbrush and bushes, the manual labor of fighting the fire had completed the job and there was not a muscle in Bill’s body which did not ache and pain. He had no idea as to the time of day. The smoke had obscured the sunlight so that he could not estimate the hour, and he was too tired to even look at his watch. He didn’t care much, either.

As a matter-of-fact, it was late in the afternoon when he finally returned and sank down alongside the creek bank after his last patrol along the fire line. How long he had been sitting there he did not know, but it was beginning to get dark when he heard voices. The fire was gradually burning itself out. The sharp, ear-splitting crackling of the flames was much less audible. The smoke was just as thick as ever, but the terrifying aspect of the fire was gone. Simmons had done his job well. The fire had been conquered.

Bill recognized the voices as those of Crouch and Bob. He could not see them, but heard them talking as they approached the place where he was sitting. Bill jumped up in spite of his aching muscles.

“We left Bill along here somewhere,” said Crouch.

“Hello, Bill,” called Bob.

“Here I am,” replied Bill.

“Well, we did our part,” said Crouch when he came to where Bill was standing. “It looks to me as if the fire has lost all its dangers now. The men with Simmons can handle it from now on. Where is your car? If I remember correctly, you said that you were tourists.”

“Our car is down at your place,” said Bill.

“That’s fine,” remarked Crouch. “I know a trail through the woods along Oak Creek that leads out into the main road. By going that way we will not have to climb the ridge we came down.”

“The sooner the better,” said Bob. “You can’t get back to your place too soon to suit me.”

“What will we do with the forestry service tools?” asked Bill.

“Just bring them along,” said Crouch. “They will stop by my place and collect them when they come out.”

It was so easy to say, “Just bring them along,” but every added pound made Bill’s aching body feel like an open sore. He did not say anything, but raised the shovel and axe to his shoulders and stood ready to start. It was quite dark by this time, and following Crouch along the narrow trail was quite a task. The trail turned at all sorts of unlooked-for places. Limbs of trees and small bushes scratched his face and hands as they walked along. Once he ran into a tree before he saw it when the trail turned sharply.

Bill’s feet seemed so heavy that he doubted his ability to walk another step. He turned around to look at Bob and could not see him in the semi-darkness. That made him feel better. Bob must be as tired as he was. Sam Crouch was walking along with the same swing that he had used when they first met. The man was not human. It was physically impossible for a man to work as hard as they had for a whole afternoon and part of the evening and then be as fresh and energetic as Crouch was.

The trail through the woods seemed endless. Finally they reached the road and Bill hastened his steps to walk alongside of Crouch.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” asked Bill.

“Son, I have been doing this ever since I was seven years old,” replied Crouch. “This is just a routine day for me. I like the woods and am always waiting for an excuse to get away from people and communities. I probably would be better off if I didn’t spend so much time hunting and fishing, but the different game seasons come so close together that I don’t seem to have much time to do much else. Right now it is good fishing season. That will last pretty nearly all Summer. Then the salmon will start running up the river. Down in the valley we have good pheasant shooting. Occasionally we have wild pigeon shooting. In the Fall there is always good deer hunting. Then Winter comes along and I go out after bear and mountain lions. The snows shut me in for a while after that and I am forced to stay home for a few weeks. Taking it all in all, I do not have much time to work on my clearing.”

“That’s what I would call an ideal existence,” said Bill.

As they talked, Bob came up and walked along with them. It did not seem half as tiring when they were talking as when they apparently covered mile after mile in silence.

“Have you ever seen the salmon run?” asked Crouch.

“No, I never have,” replied Bill.

“If you get a chance, don’t miss it,” said Crouch. “By the way, where do you two fellows come from?”

“We are stationed in San Francisco,” replied Bill.

“You ought to get good fishing around there,” said Crouch.

“We haven’t been there long enough to get any fishing,” explained Bob. “We were stationed down in the Imperial Valley until a few weeks ago.”

“What are you fellows, anyway?” asked Crouch.

“We are in the Army,” said Bill. “We are in the Air Service.”

“Do you fly airplanes?”

“That’s our job,” replied Bob.

“I’d rather hunt bears,” said Crouch. “The highest that I want to get is up on the ‘poop deck’ of a horse. That’s far enough for me to fall. Well, here we are at the shack. What are you going to do now?”

“Take our car and hunt for a place to camp,” replied Bill.

“No use of your doing that. I am here all by myself. I haven’t any beds, but I can give you a room and you can spread out your blankets on a couple of old mattresses that I have and sleep in comfort. You must be tired and ought to get a good night’s rest. I can cook up some grub for supper and then you can turn in. What do you say?”

“It’s too good to be true,” said Bill. “If you hadn’t asked me to sleep in your house, I would have rolled up in my blanket out here by the car and slept on the ground. I am just that tired. That was a mighty big fire, wasn’t it?”

“Just a baby,” replied Sam. “Only about eight or nine hundred acres. Why some of them cover that many thousand acres and we have several at the same time.”

“I’ll get out blankets and bags while you help get supper,” said Bob to Bill as they reached the house.

Supper, the laying of their beds and the short talk after supper were like a dream to Bill. Both he and Bob were asleep as soon as they landed between their blankets.

“Say, are you fellows going to sleep all day?”

Bill sat up. The sun was shining into the room. It was late in the morning. His muscles were sore and he was stiff all over. Every movement that he made started new pains through his body.

“I thought that we might go fishing this morning,” said Crouch.

“That’s an idea at that,” said Bill. “Bob, wake up, we are going fishing.”

“You go fishing and let me sleep,” said Bob drowsily.

“Come on, breakfast is on the table,” said Crouch.

“All right, if I must,” replied Bob. “I don’t feel much like it, though.”

“All the stiffness and soreness will be gone after we have been out for a few minutes,” said Crouch.

So the days passed. The young aviators stayed several days with Sam Crouch and learned more about wood life and the art of fishing than they could have learned in several months by themselves. Finally the time came when they wanted to push farther up into the woods. It was hard to say good-bye to Sam, but they finally did, promising to look him up again whenever they came back that way.

“Here’s something to take with you,” said Sam as they were about to start away.

Sam handed them a glass jar. Bill looked to see what it contained, but could not determine anything from its appearance. Obviously it was some kind of dried meat. Sam saw the inquiry in Bill’s expression.

“It’s jerkey,” explained Sam.

“What’s that?” asked Bill.

“You don’t know what jerkey is?”

“Never heard of it,” replied Bob.

“I can’t eat all the deer meat that I get during the hunting season, so I dry it for future use,” said Sam. “This is dried venison. I think that you will like chewing it while you are fishing.”

“Thanks very much,” said Bill and Bob in unison as they started away.

That night they camped several miles away from Sam Crouch’s clearing. As far as they could see, there was no settlement within miles. The fishing was good and they were more than satisfied when they finished their supper.

“This is really our first night out,” said Bill. “We started out with the idea that we would camp every night, but have never done it before. What will we do with our stuff?”

“Just leave everything as it is until morning,” replied Bob. “There’s no one anywhere around here.”

“I don’t know whether that is the proper thing to do,” replied Bill. “I guess that it doesn’t make any difference, though, for we have to start back home tomorrow.”

The boys rolled up in their blankets and were soon asleep. Bill was later awakened by the sound of something moving around his clothes. He sat up and threw the beam of his flashlight around. It finally rested upon an animal the likes of which he had never seen before. The animal was eating or nibbling one of his leggins. Bill jumped up, and with the movement there was no doubt as to the identity of the animal. It raised its quills until it looked like a large thistle.

“Bob,” called Bill. “Here’s a porcupine.”

“Where?” asked Bob as he sat up.

The porcupine made no attempt to move away in spite of all the noise. It sat quietly as if it were in its own domain. The only difference was that it had stopped nibbling on the leather leggins. The aviators knew that they could not catch it in their hands, so looked around for something to wrap around it. While they were searching, the porcupine ambled away and was soon lost in the darkness.

“Well, he got away,” said Bill, as they again rolled themselves in their blankets.

“He would have made a good mascot for the squadron,” said Bob.

“Unique but rather sticky,” said Bill as he dropped off to sleep.

About an hour later Bill was awakened again. He had the feeling that there was something rummaging in the camp equipage. He threw his flashlight in the general direction of where the supplies were piled and was almost frozen stiff with fright at what he saw.

A large brown bear was mauling among the boxes and cans trying hard to find something to eat. Not far off another bear was delving in the garbage pit. Then there was a terrible crashing and smashing as the first bear vented its rage against the pots, pans, and kettles. This woke Bob.

“What’s all the noise?” asked Bob.

Bill didn’t know whether to answer or to keep quiet. The bears were but a few feet away. If he said anything, it might attract the attention of the bears. If he didn’t, Bob might call out again and then that would attract them. At the present time they were busily engaged in wrecking the camp and were not interested in either the flashlight or Bob’s talking.

Bob did not need to get an answer to his question, for he looked in the beam of the flashlight and saw what was going on. What was to be done now? Neither one of the two young airmen could answer the question. Bill finally decided that something must be done, so jumped up and began clapping his hands and shouting.

The bear at the garbage pit stood up, but stayed where it was. It looked as large as a house to Bill, so he stopped in his tracks wondering whether to run toward or away from the bear. The other bear ambled off a few feet and then turned around to watch the proceedings. For a long time both Bill and the bear stood watching each other.

Bill again started shouting and then made another short dash after the nearest bear. It walked slowly away for a few more feet and then stopped and turned around. Bill began to lose his bravery just then, for the bear seemed to look him straight in the eye. The effect on the second bear was entirely different, for it made a dash to get away. The direction it took was rather unfortunate for Bob, for the bear headed right at Bob.

Evidently it did not see Bob stretched out on the ground, but Bob saw the bear coming and dropped down flat in his blankets. The bear did not have any designs against Bob, however, for it cleared him with a bound and was off in the woods. The shout that Bob gave as the bear reached his blankets was too much for the first one and it ambled off and disappeared in the thickets.

“This is no place for a white man,” said Bob after the bears had both gone. “I am in favor of packing up and getting out right now.”

“That’s all right with me,” replied Bill. “But I don’t think that they will come back. I think that they are gone for the night.”

“You can stay here if you want to, but not for mine; I’m on my way,” said Bob.

“Well, we might as well move on,” said Bill after looking at his watch. “It’s only a couple of hours until daylight and that will give us a good start.”

“Our vacation in the woods is over,” said Bob “Now we go back to our routine flying.”

“We have had a wonderful time, though, and I am coming back,” said Bill. “I am going to find out from Sam the next time, though, what to do when bears invade our camp.”

They started back to San Francisco very much impressed with the life in the forests. Each was determined to return as soon as he could, but neither realized that they would return almost as soon as they joined their squadron, but with an entirely different reason for the visit.