s that might have a say."

"I guess the present way is the best in the long run at that, for all I
hear," said Wilbur, "because every one now has a fair show. You can't
have cattle and sheep overrunning everywhere without absolutely ruining
the forests. Especially sheep. They can destroy a forest and make it as
though it had never existed."

"I'm huggin' love of sheep none," said the cowboy, "an' my mental picter
of the lower regions is a place what smells strong of sheep. But I sure
miss my throw on any idee as to how they could do up a forest of big
trees."

"They do, just the same."

"How? Open her up, pard, an' explain. I'm listenin' mighty attentive."

"This way," began the boy, remembering some of the talks he had heard at
the Ranger School. "When a dry year comes, if the sheep are allowed into
the forest, the grass, which is poor because of the dryness, soon gets
eaten down. Then the sheep begin to browse on the young shoots and
seedlings, and even will eat the leaves off the young saplings that they
can reach, thus destroying all the baby trees and checking the growth of
those that are a little more advanced. When this goes on for two or
three seasons all the young growth is gone. Since there are no saplings,
no young shoots, and no seedlings, the forest never recovers, but
becomes more like a park with stretches of grass between clumps of
trees. Then, when these trees die, there are no others to take their
place and the forest is at an end."

"How about cattle?"

"They're not nearly as bad. Cattle won't eat leaves unless they have to.
And they don't browse so close, nor pack down the ground as hard with
their hoofs. If there's grass enough to go round, cattle won't injure a
forest much, but, of course, the grazing has got to be restricted or
else the same sort of thing will happen that goes on when sheep are let
in."

"Never knew before," said the boy's companion, "why I ought ter hate
sheep. Jest naterally they're pizen to me, but I never rightly figured
out why I allers threw them in the discard. Now I know. There's a heap
of satisfaction in that. It's like findin' that a man you sure disagreed
with in an argyment is a thunderin' sight more useful to the community
dead than he was alive. It don't alter your feelin's none, but it helps
out strong on the ensooin' explanations."

"Are there many sheep out here?"

"There's a tidy few. But it's nothin' like Montana. You ought ter get
Rifle-Eye Bill to