est part o' the strain comes. An'
all the various kinds o' trees works this out in different ways. But
nothin's ever wasted, an'--"

"Oh, I see now," broke in Wilbur. "You're going to say that the trees
which don't grow on the outside of a forest don't have to waste vitality
into these forms of resistance."

"That's right. A tree that grows in a ravine, where there is little
chance of a high wind, an' where light is scarce an' hard to get, such a
tree will have a shallow root system an' a spindlin' trunk, all the
growth havin' gone to height, an' a tree in the center of a forest is
often the same way. The wind can't git through the forest, an' so the
trees don't need ter prop themselves against it."

"Talk about yer eddicated trees!" ejaculated the cowboy, "which colleges
is a fool to them."

"It's true enough, Bob-Cat, just the same. But supposin' a belt on the
outside o' the forest is cut down, then the inner trees, thus exposed,
haven't any proper weapons to fight the wind, an' they go down."

"Doesn't it take a very high wind to blow down some of these big trees?"
asked Wilbur.

"Some kinds it does," said the Ranger, "but there's others that go down
pretty easy, lodge-pole pine, fer instance. But a tree doesn't have to
be blown down to be ruined. Even if a branch is blown off--an' you know
how often that happens--insects and fungi get into the wound of the tree
and decay follows."

"But you can't persuade the wind none," objected Bob-Cat. "If she's
goin' to blow, she's goin' to blow, an' that's all there is to it."

"No, it ain't any use arguin' with a fifty-mile breeze, that's sure. But
you can keep the inside trees from bein' blown down by leavin' uncut the
deep-rooted trees on the outside. If you wanted a good big bit of
timber, an' could cut it from a tree on the outside o' the forest, you'd
take it first because it was handiest, wouldn't you?"

"I sure would."

"Yet, you see, it would ha' been the worst thing you could do. An' as I
started out to say, that's where you get in wrong doin' things without
thinkin'. Just like this ridin' idee to-day. By urgin' on the lad's
nateral desire you make it hard fer him an' fer me."

"All right, Rifle-Eye," said Bob-Cat good-humoredly, "you've got me. I
reckon I passes up this hand entire." He nodded and began to stroll
away.

But Wilbur called him back.

"Oh, Bob-Cat," he cried, "aren't you going to saddle him for me now?"

The cowboy turned and grinned.