“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.