"Heigho!" sighed the young man, "Good-by to huntin' an' fishing'!
Dad's given me a man's job."

With that he mounted his horse and started the pack mule into the
right-hand trail. Walking and trotting, he traveled all afternoon,
toward sunset getting into heavy forest of pine. More than one snow
bank showed white through the green, sheltered on the north slopes of
shady ravines. And it was upon entering this zone of richer, deeper
forestland that Jean sloughed off his gloomy forebodings. These stately
pines were not the giant firs of Oregon, but any lover of the woods
could be happy under them. Higher still he climbed until the forest
spread before and around him like a level park, with thicketed ravines
here and there on each side. And presently that deceitful level led
to a higher bench upon which the pines towered, and were matched by
beautiful trees he took for spruce. Heavily barked, with regular
spreading branches, these conifers rose in symmetrical shape to spear
the sky with silver plumes. A graceful gray-green moss, waved like
veils from the branches. The air was not so dry and it was colder,
with a scent and touch of snow. Jean made camp at the first likely site,
taking the precaution to unroll his bed some little distance from his
fire. Under the softly moaning pines he felt comfortable, having lost
the sense of an immeasurable open space falling away from all around him.

The gobbling of wild turkeys awakened Jean, "Chuga-lug, chug-a-lug,
chug-a-lug-chug." There was not a great difference between the gobble
of a wild turkey and that of a tame one. Jean got up, and taking his
rifle went out into the gray obscurity of dawn to try to locate the
turkeys. But it was too dark, and finally when daylight came they
appeared to be gone. The mule had strayed, and, what with finding