is
a working plan for every forty, together with a topographical
description, an estimate of timber, and a plan for the easiest method of
logging it. There's no hurry about it; you can do it when nothing else
comes up to take you away. But do it thoroughly, and to the best of your
judgment, so I can file your reports for future reference when they are
needed."

"Where do you want us to begin?" asked Bob.

"Welton is the only big operator," Thorpe pointed out, "so you'd better
look over the timber adjoining or surrounded by his. Then the basin and
ranges above the Power Company are important. There's a fine body of
timber there, but we must cut it with a more than usual attention to
water supplies."

This work Bob and Elliott found most congenial. They would start early
in the morning, carrying with them their compass on its Jacob's-staff,
their chain, their field notes, their maps and their axes. Arrived at
the scene of operations, they unsaddled and picketed their horses. Then
commenced a search for the "corner," established nearly fifty years
before by the dead and gone surveyor, a copy of those field notes now
guided them. This was no easy matter. The field notes described
accurately the location, but in fifty years the character of a country
may change. Great trees fall, new trees grow up, brush clothes an
erstwhile bare hillside, fire denudes a slope, even the rocks and
boulders shift their places under the coercion of frost or avalanche.
The young men separated, shoulder deep in the high brakes and alders of
a creek bottom, climbing tiny among great trees on the open slope of a
distant hill, clambering busily among austere domes and pinnacles,
fading in the cool green depths of the forest. Finally one would shout
loudly. The other scrambled across.

"Here we are," Bob said, pointing to the trunk of a huge yellow pine.

On it showed a wrinkle in the bark, only just appreciable.

"There's our line blaze," said Bob. "Let's see if we can find it in the
notes." He opened his book. "'Small creek three links wide, course SW,'"
he murmured. "'Sugar pine, 48 in. dia., on line, 48 links.' That's not
it. 'Top of ridge 34 ch. 6 1. course NE.' Now we come to the down slope.
Here we are! 'Yellow pine 20 in. dia., on line, 50 chains.' Twenty
inches! Well, old fellow, you've grown some since! Let's see your
compass, Elliott."

Having thus cut the line, they established their course and went due
north, spying sharply for