It was
the last, and the more I thought about it the more wretched I grew. Dick
rolled in his blanket without saying even good-night, and I lay there
watching the veils and shadows of firelight flicker on the pines, and
listening, to the wind. Gradually the bitterness seemed to go away; my body
relaxed and sank into the soft, fragrant pine-needles; the great shadowy
trees mixed with the surrounding darkness. When I awoke it was broad
daylight, and Dick was shaking my arm.
"Hunt up the horses while I get the grub ready," he said, curtly.
As the hollow was carpeted with thick grass our horses had not strayed. I
noticed that here the larger trees had been cut, and the forest resembled a
fine park. In the sunny patches seedlings were sprouting, many little bushy
pines were growing, and the saplings had sufficient room and light to
prosper. I commented to Dick upon the difference between this part of
Penetier and the hideous slash we had left.
"There were a couple of Government markers went through here and marked the
timber to be cut," said Dick.
"Was the timber cut in the mill I saw?"
"No. Buell's just run up that mill. The old one is out here a ways, nearer
Holston."
"Is it possible, Dick, that any of those loggers back there don't know the
Government is being defrauded?"
"Ken, hardly any of them know it, and they wouldn't care if they did.
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