“We’ll see,” laughed the ranger. “Gasoline stoves are more bother than they’re worth in my opinion.”
As Penny watched in amazed admiration he built a good fire which soon made a bed of glowing cherry red coals.
“How about a nice pan of fish fried to a crisp brown?” the ranger tempted her. “I caught a string of them this morning. Beauties!”
From the car he brought a basket of fat trout, already dressed and ready for cooking. Without asking Penny for anything, he wrapped them in corn meal, salted each fish and let it sizzle in hot butter.
“Do you always travel with your car equipped like a kitchen cabinet?” Penny joked. Crouching beside the fire, she barely could take her eyes from the food.
“Not always,” the ranger laughed. “I’ve been on an overnight trip. Usually have the fixings of a meal with me though.”
While the fish slowly sizzled, Bill put on a pot of coffee and fried potatoes. He accomplished everything with such ease that Penny could only watch dumbfounded.
“Guess you and your father considered me an old crab last night,” he remarked. “Sometimes we hate to enforce the rules, but we have to treat everyone alike. If we allowed folks to camp wherever they pleased the danger of forest fire would be greatly increased.”
“You’re right, of course. Have you had any fires this season?”
“Not here.” Deftly the ranger dished up the potatoes and crisply browned fish. “Plenty of them farther South. Not all caused by carelessness of campers either.”