Bill Bruce on Forest Patrol

by Henry Harley Arnold

“Breene, I am going up on this mountain to see the course that plane is flying,” said Bill. “You wait for me here at this stream junction. I will be back in a short time.”

“I would have thought that you had seen enough airplanes in your life without climbing mountains to see another,” said Breene. “I will wait for you right here.”

Bill climbed up to the top of the ridge. He was afraid that he would not reach the summit in time. The airplane was not far off when he had first heard it and would probably be out of sight before he reached the crest of the ridge. Bill crashed through the underbrush like a scared deer. He reached the top of the ridge out of breath. He had not stopped on the way up to listen for the plane, so had no idea whether or not it was still within sight. He came out into an open space which had recently been burned off and saw the plane.

The airplane was circling around a mountain top but a short distance away. At first Bill could not figure out why it was circling. There were no signs of forest fires, but when he studied that mountain the reflection of the sun on a highly polished surface met his eyes. In a few seconds it disappeared. He examined the top of the mountain very carefully and was sure that there was a lookout station on the top of that ridge. Bill wished that he had brought the airplane compass with him so that he could get the bearing of the mountain. He estimated the distance to the lookout to be anywhere from four to six miles, but distances looking across depressions are very deceptive. Perhaps it might be ten or twelve miles the way they would have to travel. In any event, he was glad that the plane had circled the lookout to drop its message, whatever it might have been. Perhaps the pilot was throwing over a bundle of newspapers. Bill himself had often done that while on patrol.

After carefully studying the topographical features of the mountain on which the lookout station was located, Bill descended the ridge to join Breene.

“Sergeant, there is a forestry lookout station not over ten or twelve miles from here,” said Bill. “I think that we will head for that.”

“As far as I can see, that is more than we have been heading for during the past twenty-four hours,” replied Breene. “Let’s go.”

They worked their way around the bottom of the ridge in an endeavor to reach the opposite side without climbing to the top. Several times Bill doubted the wisdom of the proceeding, but once having started, was reluctant to change his plan. He found that he could not tell when he had reached the other side, for there were so many small valleys and gullies coming down from the top. Finally they reached the bottom of a hog-back which Bill thought pointed in the direction in which the lookout lay.

“Give me the compass, Breene,” said Bill. “I am going up on this hog-back and get a bearing to the lookout.”

“I thought that you might ask for the compass when I hurled it at a wild creature which was about to invade our camp last night,” replied Breene. “I had every intention in the world of getting it this morning, but with the making of chocolate and everything, I forgot all about it, just the same as you did about that big cat which you shot at last night.”