husband was a forest ranger several miles away, and she spent most of
her time in the open. All day she stayed high in the fire tower, with
her glasses scanning the surrounding country. At the first sign of
smoke, she determined its exact location by means of a map and then
telephoned to Ranger Headquarters. Men were on their way immediately,
and many serious forest fires were thus nipped in the bud.

She and I surveyed each other curiously. I waited for her to do the
talking.

"You won't stay here long!" she said, and laughed when I asked her why.

"This is a funny place to put you," she remarked next, after a glance
around our new domain. "I'd rather be out under a tree, wouldn't you?"

"God forbid!" I answered earnestly. "I'm no back-to-nature fan, and this
is primitive a-plenty for me. There's no bathroom, and I can't even find
a place to wash my face. What shall we do?"

We reconnoitered, and found the water supply. We coaxed a tin basin away
from the cook and were fully equipped as far as a bathroom was
concerned.

Thea--for that was her Indian name--agreed that it might be well to
fasten our doors; so we dragged the decrepit dresser against the front
portal and moved a trunk across the back entrance. As there were no
shades at the windows, we undressed in the dark and retired.

The wind moaned in the pines. A querulous coyote complained. Strange
noises were everywhere around us. Scampering sounds echoed back and