THE YOUNG FORESTER

By Zane Grey


I. CHOOSING A PROFESSION

I loved outdoor life and hunting. Some way a grizzly bear would come in
when I tried to explain forestry to my brother.

"Hunting grizzlies!" he cried. "Why, Ken, father says you've been reading
dime novels."

"Just wait, Hal, till he comes out here. I'll show him that forestry isn't
just bear-hunting."

My brother Hal and I were camping a few days on the Susquehanna River, and
we had divided the time between fishing and tramping. Our camp was on the
edge of a forest some eight miles from Harrisburg. The property belonged to
our father, and he had promised to drive out to see us. But he did not come
that day, and I had to content myself with winning Hal over to my side.

"Ken, if the governor lets you go to Arizona can't you ring me in?"

"Not this summer. I'd be afraid to ask him. But in another year I'll do it."

"Won't it be great? But what a long time to wait! It makes me sick to think
of you out there riding mustangs and hunting bears and lions."

"You'll have to stand it. You're pretty much of a kid, Hal--not yet