n't used to this sort o' thing, an' maybe you'd better
keep on the trail for another half-mile till you come to a little
settlement. Somebody can put you up, I reckon."

"No need to," said the boy, "I'll camp here with you."

"Maybe you ain't used to sleepin' on the ground."

"I guess I can stand it, if you can," replied Wilbur promptly.

"Wa'al, I reckon I can," said the Ranger, "seein' that I always have an'
always do."

Wilbur had never camped in the open before without a tent or shelter of
some kind, but he would not for the world have had his Ranger think that
he was in the least disconcerted. Neither, to do him justice, was he,
but rather anticipating the night under the open sky with a good deal of
pleasure.

After the horses were unsaddled and hobbled, Rifle-Eye told Wilbur to
get the beds ready. The boy, greatly pleased with himself that he knew
how to do this without being told, picked up his ax and started for the
nearest balsam. But he found himself in somewhat of a difficulty. The
white fir grew to a much larger tree than the Balm-of-Gilead he had
known in the East, and the lower branches were tough. So he chopped down
a young tree near, scarcely more than a sapling.

A moment later he heard the Ranger call to him.

"How many trees of that size do you reckon you'll want?" he asked.

"Oh, they're only just saplings," the boy replied, "five or six ought to
do."

"They'll make five or six fine trees some day, won't they?" queried the
old woodsman.

"Yes, Rifle-Eye, they will," answered the boy, flushing at his lack of
thoughtfulness. "I'd better take only one, and that a little bigger,
hadn't I?"

"An' one that's crooked. Always take a tree that isn't goin' to make
good timber when you're not cuttin' for timber."

Wilbur accordingly felled a small white fir near by, having had his
first practical lesson of forest economy on his own forest, stripped the
tree of its fans or flattest branches and laid them on the ground. A
thickness of about six inches, he found, was enough to make the beds
wonderfully springy and comfortable.

In the meantime he found that Rifle-Eye was getting a fireplace ready,
using for the purpose some flat stones which lay conveniently near by.
Wilbur, stepping over a tiny rivulet which ran into the creek, noted a
couple of stones apparently just suited for the making of a rough
fireplace and brought them along. The Ranger looked at them.

"What kind o' stone do you call