your belt. We’ll split up the larger utensils—pots and frying pans.”

Jerry James jumped up, stood at attention and threw off a snappy salute. “Yes, sir! Hut-two-three-four! We’re in the Army now. We march at dawn.”

Russ grinned appreciatively; then he said in his most authoritative, military manner, “There’s just one thing, soldier. You don’t salute with a boloney sandwich in your hand.”

CHAPTER TWO
Into the Woods

After a pre-dawn breakfast of sausage, eggs and flapjacks, Russell Steele and the three boys strapped on their packs and walked down to the dock where Lars Johannsen was warming up the cabin cruiser. Prince was running back and forth on the pier, barking excitedly.

Jerry eased his thumbs under the pack straps where they cut into his shoulders. “Boy, this stuff is heavy. You mean to say soldiers carry all this weight for miles and miles?”

“More weight than that,” Russ told him. “Our packs don’t weigh more than thirty or forty pounds. An infantryman may pack better than sixty pounds. And that doesn’t include his cartridge belt and rifle.”

“Me for the Navy,” Quiz said emphatically.

Russ laughed. “After a few days you won’t even realize your pack is there.”

The sun, a steaming red ball through the morning mist over the lake, was just showing above the treetops as they climbed aboard the cruiser. Russ cast off and the cook advanced the throttle slowly. With a roar of the twin exhausts, the sleek craft shot away from the dock, her bow lifting as it cleaved through the clear, blue water. Prince scrambled up on the top deck and stood at the prow, leaning forward into the fine spray whipping back across the cabin.

“He’s got a fine pair of sea legs,” Jerry said.

Sandy laughed. “Two pairs, you mean. He looks like a figurehead on one of those old sailing ships, doesn’t he?”

Russ outlined the month’s itinerary: “Lars will drop us off at the northeast corner of the lake, and we’ll strike out for Big Falls. From Big Falls we’ll head south to Bow String Lake, and from Bow String west back to the lodge. Actually, we’ll be traveling in a big triangle, about one hundred and twenty miles altogether, I’d say.”

“This is a lumber region, isn’t it, Mr. Steele?” Quiz asked. “I’ve always wanted to see lumberjacks at work.”

“You’ll have your chance, Quiz,” Russ promised him. “Although the lumber industry in Minnesota is only a shadow of what it used to be. A little more than a century ago, more than three quarters of the state was forested. But ruthless cutting of timber without any thought of conservation or restocking has all but wiped out the great pine forests of the Lake States. The short-sighted men responsible never stopped to consider how long it takes a tree to grow. Why, some of these big fellows are mere babies after one hundred years.”

The little launch was fairly skimming across the mirror-like surface of the lake now. There wasn’t a hint of a breeze, and although it was still early morning, the sun burned down so intensely that they had to string up an awning over the rear deck.

“Another scorcher,” Russ said grimly.

Lars grunted. “We better get rain soon, or we have pretty big trouble. One spark in these woods and poof!” He threw up his hands.

Russ spoke seriously to the boys. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to forgo the joys of the evening campfire. It would be much too dangerous. I brought along a Coleman stove to cook on.”

Jerry was disappointed. “Heck, that’s half the fun of camping out—shooting the breeze around the fire.”

“I feel bad about it myself,” Russ agreed. “But if you ever had had the misfortune to see a forest fire at first hand, you’d understand that it’s out of the question.”

“Have you ever seen one close?” Sandy asked him.

“Yes, I did. Down in Southern California a couple of years ago. It was the most horrible experience of my life.” He seemed to go tense at the recollection.

Jerry shivered and gazed intently at the approaching shoreline; the foliage stretched away unbroken to the horizon like a roof over the forest. “I’d hate to be somewhere in the middle of that if a fire did break out.”

“I don’t think we have anything to worry about, as long as we’re careful,” Russ assured him. “And you don’t have to worry about the natives; their livelihoods—and lives—depend on good fire-prevention habits.”

“That’s all well and good, sir,” Quiz said somberly, “but what about lightning?” He studied the cloudless sky arching all about them like a pale-blue china bowl. “When this hot spell breaks, you can bet it will break with a ripsnorting thunder-and-lightning storm.”

“You’re a cheerful sort,” Jerry grumbled.

Russ Steele’s brow furrowed in concentration. “It’s a good point, Quiz. All we can do is hope that if lightning does ignite any small fires, a good rain will follow soon enough to douse them.”

“Don’t they have fire spotters in these woods?” Sandy asked.

“Certainly. The U.S. Forest Service has rangers stationed in fire towers throughout all critical areas on twenty-four-hour duty. But there’s an awful lot of territory to cover. Many times a blaze will be out of control before it’s detected.”

The conversation broke off as the shoreline loomed up rapidly now. Lars steered the launch toward a rickety wooden dock before a small frame bungalow set back about 100 feet from the water’s edge.

“An old army buddy of mine owns that camp,” Russ told them. “He won’t be up until the hunting season.”

As Lars maneuvered the launch expertly alongside the dock, Russ leaped out and gave the mooring line a few turns around a piling. He lent a hand to each of the boys in turn as they stepped up on the gunwale and hopped gingerly across to the wooden platform.

“These packs throw you off balance,” Quiz grumbled, heading gratefully for solid land.

They all laughed as Prince, who was leaning far out over the bow watching the fish dart about in the clear water, lost his footing and went tumbling into the lake. He surfaced and went streaking for shore like a seal. The big dog scrambled out of the lake a few feet away from Quiz and shook himself vigorously, sending the spray flying in all directions.

“Hey!” Quiz complained, stumbling backward. “Somebody turn off the sprinkler system.”

“Now, you won’t have to take a bath tonight,” Jerry kidded him.

When he was through shaking, Prince sat down on the bank and watched them with his head cocked to one side.

“I think he wants to go with us,” Sandy suggested.

“Take him along,” Lars said. “The exercise will do him good.”

“Good idea,” Russ agreed. “All right, boy, you can come with us if you want to.”

Lars gunned the motor and waved. “Well, so long. Have a good time.”

Russell Steele cast off the mooring line. “We will, Lars. And I promise to take good care of Prince.”

Lars laughed. “Prince take good care of you, I think. See you in couple of weeks.”

The boys watched until the boat was just a speck in the distance. “What a sweet outfit that is, Mr. Steele,” Jerry said admiringly. “I could spend the whole summer just cruising around the lake like that.”

Russ took out his pipe and filled it from a plastic pouch. “Before you go back to California, we’ll try and get some water skiing in.”

“Boy, that will be great.”