peak, between each buttress a rift of snow,
flecked here and there by the outline of a daring spruce clinging to the
rock, apparently in defiance of all laws of gravity.

"That is called 'Grand Sentinel,'" said the hunter, "and if you will
take out your glasses you will see that from here you can overlook miles
and miles of country to the west. This is about as high as any place on
the south fork of the King's River until it turns north where Bubbs
Creek runs into it."

Wilbur took out from their case his field-glasses and scanned the
horizon carefully as far as he could see, then snapping them back into
the case, he turned to the hunter, saying:

"No fire in sight here!"

"All right," replied Rifle-Eye, "then we'll go on to the next point."

That whole day was a revelation to Wilbur of the beauty and of the size
of that portion of the forest which it was his especial business to
oversee. Here and there the Ranger made a short break from the direct
line of the journey to take the boy down to some miner's cabin or Indian
shack, so that, as he expressed it, "you c'n live in a world of friends.
There ain't no man livin', son," he continued, "but what'll be the
better of havin' a kind word some day, an' the more of them you give,
the more you're likely to have."

Owing to these deviations from the direct trail, it was late when they
returned to Wilbur's little camp. But not even the lateness of the hour,
nor the boy's fatigue, could keep down his delight in his tent home. He
was down at the corral quite a long time, and when he came back
Rifle-Eye asked him where he had been. The boy flushed a little.

"I hadn't seen Kit all day," he said, "so I went down and had a little
talk to her."

The Ranger smiled and said nothing but looked well pleased. In the
meantime he had quickly prepared supper, and Wilbur started in and ate
as though he would never stop. At last he leaned back and sighed aloud.

"That's the best dinner I ever ate," he said; "I never thought fish
could taste so good."

But he jumped up again immediately and took the dishes down to the
spring to wash them. He had just dipped the plates into the pool under
the spring when the old woodsman stopped him.

"You don't ever want to do that," he said. "There ain't any manner of
use in foulin' a stream that you'll want to use all the time. Little
bits of food, washin' off the plates, will soon make that water bad if
you let them run in there. An' not only i