"How about when a fire just starts? That happens sometimes, doesn't it?"
"Yes, and that's the hardest sort of a fire of all to control or to find. Sometimes, when the leaves and branches get all wet, they will get terribly hot when the sun blazes down on them. Then, because they're wet, some sort of a gas develops, and the fire starts with what they call spontaneous combustion."
"They have a fire patrol in some places, don't they?"
"Yes, and they ought to have one wherever there are woods. Out west the government forest service keeps men who do nothing all day long but keep on the lookout for fires. Up on the high peaks they have signal stations, with semaphores and telephone wires, and men with telescopes who look out all day long for the first sign of smoke."
"I think that must be a great life. They call them forest rangers, don't they?"
"Yes. And it is a great job. Those fellows have to know all the different trees by sight. They have to be able to plant new trees, and cut down others when the trees need to be thinned out. Forestry is a science now, and they're teaching it in the colleges. An awful lot of our forests have been wasted altogether."
"They'll grow again, won't they, Jack?"
"Y-e-s. They will if the work is done properly. But you see those great big mills, that use up thousands of feet of timber every season—even millions—don't stop to cut with an idea of reforestation. They just chop and chop and chop, and when they've cut all the timber they can, they move on to another section, where they start in and do it all over again. I'm working to get a Conservation badge, you know. That's how I've happened to read about all these things."
"I'm going to try to get a Conservation badge, too, Jack. I can start working for it as soon as I'm a First-Class Scout, can't I?"
"Yes. And this hike will be one of your tests for your First-Class badge, too. You're only supposed to have to go seven miles, and we'll make a whole lot more than that. How about your other qualifications? Coming along all right with them?"