The Young Wireless Operator—As a Fire Patrol / Or, The Story of a Young Wireless Amateur Who Made Good as a Fire Patrol

by Lewis E. Theiss

Quickly chopping a pine bough, Charley attacked the fire. It was not a fierce blaze, though when the fitful wind blew strong it flamed up savagely. Even the tiniest of forest fires is hot enough, and Charley found it trying work. He had many hundreds of yards of flame to beat out. The smoke and the heat were stifling and exhausting, and every little while Charley had to turn away from the fire to rest and get his breath. During such periods, Charley would walk back along the fire-line to make sure that the blaze was extinguished behind him.

Darkness came quickly in the deep valley, and before Charley had the blaze half extinguished, he was unable to see distinctly. Indeed he could hardly have seen anything at all had it not been for the fitful light of the flames; and this dancing light made objects appear uncertain and unreal.

In one of his trips back along the line, Charley came to a stump that was ablaze. In beating out the flames just here, he had failed to extinguish some tiny sparks in a hollow place at the base of the stump. The wind had fanned these into life after Charley had passed on, and the fire had communicated to the stump. Now the stump was a pillar of flame. At any moment sparks might fly from it and rekindle the fire.

Charley beat at the stump with his brush until the flames had entirely disappeared. But fearing that sparks might yet be smouldering under the bark or in the dry wood, Charley began scraping the sides of the stump. As his hand reached the top of the stump, there was a sudden startling whir of wings and something shot upward into the dark. Charley recoiled as though shot. His heart beat a tattoo against his ribs. His first thought was of the sudden blow the rattler had given the ranger. Yet he knew it was no rattler that had suddenly sprung upward into the night. He drew forth his flash-light, which he always carried, and turned the beam of light on the top of the stump. There lay two little turtle-doves, unharmed despite the fierce flames that had played about them. They had been protected by the mother dove's body.

"Little turtle-dove," said Charley, "I take off my hat to you. When anybody tells me about a deed of heroism hereafter, I'll tell them about you and how you hovered over your young ones while the flames were slowly roasting you. I'm certainly glad I got here when I did. You would have been burned in another five minutes and your little ones with you."

Charley started back to the line of flames again. "If a turtle-dove can do a thing like that," he muttered to himself, "you're a poor thing if you can't face a little blaze like this."

He cut a new bush, once more fell on the fire, and never ceased his efforts until not a single blaze lighted the forest. Then he stepped inside the burned area and made his way completely around the edge of it. The ashes were hot and Charley knew that they might scorch the leather in his shoes. But he also knew there would be no rattlesnakes where the fire had burned. When Charley came to the stump again, he turned his flash-light on its top. The dove had returned and was once more hovering over her little ones.

When he was certain that the fire was absolutely extinguished, Charley made his way through the dark forest to his tent and made his nightly report. It gave him great happiness to be able to report that the fire was extinguished and that once more all was well in the forest.

Mr. Marlin had sent out to Charley a package of books that dealt with various phases of work in the forest. Night after night, by the light of candles, Charley sat in his tent studying his texts. He found them fascinating. Here in the forest, where every day he could see illustrated the truth of what he had read the night before, he learned, with unbelievable rapidity. Whenever he came to anything in his texts that he did not understand, he made a note of it. Sometimes at night he got Lew on the wireless and through him questioned the forester. He did not want to bother the government wireless men except in case of necessity.

Two or three times a week the forester came out to see Charley and to keep an eye on this, his finest stand of timber. From time to time he brought supplies and more books. Indeed Charley's capacity to acquire what was in the books astonished the forester. He knew that Charley understood because of his intelligent questions and his increasingly intelligent practices; for, without orders to do it, Charley was voluntarily doing many of the tasks that Mr. Morton should have done in the forest. As he grew in comprehension of the needs of the forest, Charley began to make suggestions to the forester. More than one of these proved practicable, and Charley was given permission to go ahead with the proposals. Before he knew it, Charley found himself working sixteen hours a day and regretting that the days were not longer. And as always happens to people who are busy about work they love, Charley was supremely happy.