was not
at bay. Nor had the fight-fury possessed him to the exclusion of
sanity. Thus, he fled. And, eagerly, Lad gave chase.

But, at the very edge of the bush-rampart, the Master's call brought
the collie back, to heel, exceeding glum and reluctant. Reproachfully,
Lad gazed up at the man who had spoiled his morning of enthralling
sport. Halfheartedly, Lad listened to the Master's rebuke, as he
followed back to camp. His day had begun so delightfully! And, as
usual, a human had interrupted the fun, at the most exciting time; and
for no apparent reason. Humans were like that.

Barring one other incident, Lad's two weeks at camp were
uneventful,--until the very last day. That "one incident" can be passed
over, with modest brevity. It concerned a black-and-white cat which Lad
saw, one evening, sneaking past the campfire's farthest shadows. He
gave chase. The chase ended in less than ten seconds. And, Lad had to
be bathed and scoured and rubbed and anointed, for the best part of
twenty-four hours, before he was allowed to come again within fifty
feet of the dining tent.

On a raw morning, the car and the truck made their appearance at the
foot of the rocky mountaintop hillock. The tents had been struck, at
daylight; and every cooking utensil and dish had been scoured and put
into the crate as soon as it was used. Camp was policed and cleaned.
The fire was beaten to death; a half-score pails of water were dowsed
over its remains; and damp earth was flung upon it.

In short, the camping spot was not only left as it had been found and
as one would want it to be found again, but every trace of fire was
destroyed.

And all this, be it known, is more than a mere rule for campers. It
should be their sacred creed. If one is not thoroughgoing sportsman
enough to make his camp-site scrupulously clean, at least there is one
detail he should never allow himself to neglect;--a detail whose
omission should be punished by a term in prison: Namely, the utter
extinction of the campfire.

Every year, millions of dollars' worth of splendid trees and of homes
are wiped out, by forest fires. No forest fire, since the birth of
time, ever started of its own accord. Each and every one has been due
to human carelessness.

A campfire ill-extinguished;--a smolder of tobacco not stamped
out;--the flaming cinders of a railroad train,--a match dropped among
dry leaves before spark and blaze have both been destroyed,--these be
the first and o