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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Young Forester"


It was faint, perhaps miles away, yet unmistakably it was the whistle of an
engine. I wondered if the railroad turned round this side of the peaks.
Mounting Hal, I rode down the forest to the point where I had seen the men,
and there came upon a trail. I proceeded along this in the direction the
men had taken. I had come again to the slow-rising level that I had noted
earlier in my morning's journey. After several miles a light or opening in
the forest ahead caused me to use more caution. As I rode forward I saw a
vast area of tree-tops far below, and then I found myself on the edge of a
foot-hill.
Right under me was a wide, yellow, bare spot, miles across, a horrible
slash in the green forest, and in the middle of it, surrounded by stacks on
stacks of lumber, was a great sawmill.
I stared in utter amazement. A sawmill on Penetier! Even as I gazed a train
of fresh-cut lumber trailed away into the forest.

V. THE SAWMILL
In my surprise I almost forgot the Mexican. Then I thought that if Dick
were there the Mexican would be likely to have troubles of his own. I
remembered Dick's reputation as a fighter. But suppose I did not find Dick
at the sawmill? This part of the forest was probably owned by private
individuals, for I couldn't imagine Government timber being cut in this
fashion.


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