The Young Wireless Operator-As a Fire Patrol Part 4

Charley spread the grub out on his blanket and put the dishes together near the fire. While he was waiting for a bed of coals to form, he cut some bread and spread the slices with b.u.t.ter. Presently he put the little frying-pan over the coals and began to cook some meat. Every time he bent over his pile of grub, he smelled the coffee. The odor was tantalizing, almost torturing. Never, it seemed to him, had he ever wanted anything so much as he now wanted a drink of coffee. But with no water they could have no coffee. Finally Charley put the package of coffee in the coffee-pot and clamped down the lid so that the odor could reach him no longer. From time to time Lew quietly stirred the coals. Charley fried the meat in silence. Neither boy felt like talking.

When the meal was ready, they sat down on the dry ground and in silence ate their food.

Presently Lew broke the quiet. "I wonder what Roy had to say to-night. I thought maybe we'd be able to get our wireless up and listen in. But I'm too tired to bother with any wireless to-night, even from Roy. It'll be the hay for mine, quick."

He began to look for a place where they could sleep. When he had selected a spot, he took the hatchet and with the back of it smoothed the ground, removing all stones and little stumps. Charley, meantime, put the food away and piled the dishes. They could not be washed. Then the two boys rolled themselves in their blankets, put their pack bags under their heads and were asleep almost instantly. Their difficult climb had tired them utterly.

The next morning found them fully refreshed. No clouds hung above them, and the sun's rays awoke them early. Aside from their intense thirst, neither felt any the worse for his hard experience.

"It's still early," said Lew, as he looked at the sun that had hardly more than cleared the summit of the eastern hills. "Let's push on down to the bottom and cook breakfast after we reach water. It won't take very long to get down, and then we can have some coffee. Oh boy! I never knew how good coffee was."

"I could drink anything--even medicine," smiled Charley, "so it was wet."

Rapidly the packs were a.s.sembled and the blankets rolled. "Put things together good," said Lew, "for it will be a tough journey even if we are going down-hill. I've been looking at some of the tangles we came through last night and I don't see how we ever made it."

"Sometimes," replied Charley, "it's a good thing a fellow can't know exactly what he's attempting. If he did know, maybe he'd never have the nerve to try."

They started down the slope, their packs and blankets securely slung about them and even tied fast with strings, to prevent them from catching among the fallen trees. Unintentionally they followed the dry bed of the stream.

It led along a slight depression that ran diagonally down the mountainside. But quickly they realized that this was the most difficult path they could have chosen. For along the margins of the brook, the timber, fed by the flow of water, had been much denser and larger than the timber farther from the bank of the stream. So dense was the tangle now that at first the boys could see only a few hundred yards ahead of them.

Presently they noticed that they were traveling through the thickest part of the timber, or what had been timber. If possible, their way was more difficult than it had been in ascending the mountain. But daylight and the fact that they were going down-hill made it possible for them to travel with comparative rapidity. Once they noticed that they were advancing by the most difficult route, they left the margin of the brook and cut straight down the slope.

Now the way was more open. They could see farther. But both were so preoccupied with what lay immediately around them that for a time neither gave heed to more distant views. Furthermore, the bottom was still obscured by a heavy night mist. The warm spring sun rapidly dissipated this, opening the valley to view as though some invisible hand had rolled back a giant cover. Presently Lew reached a little area that was swept absolutely bare of everything. Nothing remained but the nude rocks and soil. Lew, who was leading the way, paused to spy out the best path. Then he cried out in dismay. A moment later Charley stood by his side and both boys gazed in speechless horror at the scene before them.

The magnificent stand of pines that they had expected to see in the bottom was no more. For miles the valley before them was a blackened waste. Like giant jackstraws the huge pine sticks, that they had last seen as magnificent, towering trees, were heaped in inextricable confusion or still stood, broken, blasted, gaunt, limbless, spectral, awful remnants of their former selves. No words could convey the terrible desolation of the scene. Where formerly these giant pines had risen heavenward, higher and more stately than the most exquisite church spires or cathedral columns, there were now only scattered and blasted stumps, while the floor of the valley was strewn with the horrible debris. The scene was sickening, appalling.

For a moment neither lad spoke. The scene before them oppressed them, made them sick at heart. They knew no language that would convey what was in their minds. But even yet they did not fully understand the tragedy of a forest fire. They were soon to learn. Silently they went on; but they had gone no more than a hundred yards when they came upon a sight that fairly sickened them. In a little circle, as though the animals had crowded close together in their terror and helplessness, lay the remains of a number of deer. The flesh had either been burned or had rotted away; but the most of the bones and parts of the hides remained. There could be no mistake as to the ident.i.ty of the dead animals. The very positions of the skeletons told a pitiful story. Blinded by smoke and flame, made frantic by the red death that was sweeping the forest, confused, terror-stricken, weakened by gas and fumes, the poor beasts had finally crowded together and perished under the onrushing wave of fire. For a moment the boys gazed at the scene in fascinated horror; then they turned away, to shut out the picture. They were oppressed, almost stunned.

They went on. Not a vestige of its former magnificent vegetation covered the slope. Nothing in the world could be more awful, more desolate, more disheartening to behold than the area the two chums were now crossing.

Never had either seen anything that so oppressed him. For not only had the slope of Old Ironsides been laid waste, but the entire bottom had been swept by fire, and the opposite mountain slope devastated. Before them was nothing but desolation.

Soon they were near enough to see the sparkle of water in the bottom. In their horror at their immediate surroundings they had temporarily forgotten even their terrible thirst. The sight of water recalled their need.

"Thank G.o.d water can't burn!" cried Lew, as the sparkle of the brook caught his eye. "We'd be in a fine pickle if the brook had been consumed, too."

The prospect of a drink stirred them. They threw off the spell that so depressed them and hastened downward, reckless alike of menacing branches and loose stones and obstructing tree trunks. Headlong they pushed downward. But fortune was with them and neither a broken bone nor a strained ligament resulted, though more than once each lad slipped and fell. Presently they reached the bottom of the slope and came to the very brink of the run. Almost frantically they flung themselves on the ground and drank.

Long, copious draughts they drank; and it was not until they had quenched their thirst that they really noticed how shrunken the brook was. Instead of the deep, rushing mountain stream they had seen when last they visited the spot, they now found but a slender rivulet that flowed quietly along the middle of the stream bed, leaving bare, bordering ribbons of stony bottom along its margins. Nowhere did the water seem to reach from bank to bank, excepting where some obstruction in the stream bed dammed the current back. Like the forest, the brook was also a sorrowful picture. But there was this difference. The forest was dead, whereas the brook, though feeble, still lived.

The full significance of the shrunken stream did not strike the two boys until they had traveled for some distance up the bank of the run.

Presently they came to a spot they recognized as a favorite trout-hole. A great boulder jutted out from one bank, while opposite it, on the other sh.o.r.e, stood or had stood, a mammoth hemlock. These obstructions had formed a little pool, and the current had eaten away much earth from beneath the roots of the great tree, forming an ideal lurking place for trout. And in this dark, deep, secure retreat great fish had lived since time immemorial. More than one huge trout had the two chums taken here.

Never was the pool without its giant occupant, for when one big fellow was caught another moved in to take his place, the run being fully stocked from year to year by the smaller fishes from the spring brooks, like the vanished rivulet above. But now no trout hid under the hemlock's roots.

They stood high and dry, while the puny stream that trickled beneath them would hardly have covered a minnow. The two boys looked at each other in dismay.

"You don't suppose the entire stream is like that, do you, Lew?" asked Charley. "There won't be a trout in it if it is." Then, after a pause, he added: "What in the world do you suppose has become of the trout, anyway?"

His question was soon answered, at least in part. Continuing along the bank of the run, the boys presently came to one of the deepest pools in the stream. In the crystal water they could see many trout, for there were no hiding-places in the pool at this low stage of water. Some of the fish were large. At the approach of the boys the frightened trout darted frantically about in the pool, vainly seeking cover.

Around the margins of this pool were innumerable little tracks in the earth. "Racc.o.o.ns!" exclaimed Lew. "There must have been dozens of them here."

But not until he found some little piles of fish-bones near the farther end of the pool did he grasp the significance of the tracks. He stopped in amazement.

"Look here, Charley," he called, pointing to the piles of fish-bones.

"Those c.o.o.ns have been catching and eating trout." Then, after a moment's thought, he added, "If this stream is like this in April, what will it be in August? There will be hardly a drop of water or a trout left. Why, this brook is ruined for years as a trout-stream--maybe forever. And it used to be absolutely the finest trout-stream in this part of the mountains."

Depressed and silent, the two lads continued along the brook. The mountains on either side of them and the entire bottom between lay black and desolate. But far up the run they could now see green foliage again, where the fire had been stopped.

"Let's go on to those pines before we eat our breakfast," said Charley.

"It would make me sick to eat here in these ruins."

"That's exactly the way I feel, too," replied Lew. "It is the most awful thing I ever saw. Let's get out of it."

As rapidly as they could, they forced their way up-stream. The valley became narrower as they advanced. It was shaped like a huge wish-bone; and they were nearing the small end, where the mountains came together and formed a high k.n.o.b. As the valley narrowed, the grade became much steeper, and their progress was correspondingly slower.

The pines they were heading for stood almost at the top of the k.n.o.b at the crotch of the wish-bone. They were, therefore, at a considerable elevation. From the edge of these pines one would have to travel only a short distance to reach the very summit of the k.n.o.b. After a hard walk the boys reached the end of the burned tract. They penetrated into the living forest far enough to shut out the sight of the dead forest they had just traversed. Then they threw down their packs and hastily set about cooking their breakfast.

"Gee!" cried Lew. "I never was so glad to get away from anything in my life. I hope I shall never again see a sight like that. It fairly makes a fellow sick."

In their haste to start cooking, they were not as careful as they might have been in building their fire, and they made considerable smoke. Before they were half done eating, a man appeared farther up the run, advancing through the pines at great speed. He seemed to be in a big hurry until he caught sight of the two boys as they sat on the dry pine-needles. After that he came forward at an ordinary gait.

"Good-morning, boys," he said pleasantly, as he drew near. Then, catching sight of their rods, he added, "If you came to get fish, you struck a mighty poor place."

"It used to be the best place for trout I ever saw," replied Lew. "This brook used to be full of 'em--big ones, too. But the season has been so dry, the brook has almost disappeared."

"You mean that the fires that have swept this valley have burned it up,"

replied the stranger.

"It's too awful a thing to joke about," replied Lew.

"A joke!" exclaimed the stranger, frowning.

"It's the literal truth--and a most terrible truth, at that."

"I don't understand," said Lew, slowly. "How can fire burn water? I supposed the lack of snow last winter and of rain this spring had made the brook shrink."

"Not for a minute, young man, not for a minute. If fires hadn't swept this valley the past two or three years, there would have been plenty of water in the run, rain or no rain."

"I--I don't exactly understand," said Lew hesitatingly.

"It's like this," said the stranger. "The forest floor is like a great sponge. The decayed leaves and twigs are so light and porous that they soak up most of the rain as it falls and hold the water indefinitely. That keeps the springs full, and the springs feed the brooks, and so there is water all the year round. It is nature's method of storing up water. When a fire sweeps through the forest, especially such awful fires as have gone through this valley, the leaves and twigs above ground are burned, and even the roots and the decaying vegetable matter under the earth are consumed. Nothing is left but mineral matter--particles of rock, stones, sand, and the like. The rain will no longer sink into the ground, nor will the earth hold the water as the rotting leaves do. Then when it rains, the water runs off as fast as it falls. The brooks are flooded for a few hours and then they dry up until another rain comes. So you see I meant exactly what I said. This trout-stream was burned up by the forest fires.

Likewise many of the trout were burned up with it, for in places the fire made the water hotter than trout can stand. Thousands of them were literally cooked."

For a while both boys were silent. The idea was a new one to them.

Presently Charley spoke. "I knew that fire burned up our timber," he said, "but I never thought about its burning up our water, too. I know we're getting awful short of lumber. Is there any danger of our running out of water? But that can't be, surely."

"It surely can be," said the stranger. "I judge you boys have been here before, and-----"

"We have," interrupted Lew.