He strolled across the highway and came to the store. Just then a big logging truck came round the curve, a blue one. That was the Empire Logging Company. He was ready to signal to the driver, when the truck braked to a stop. The driver stuck his head out and called:
“Fire at Tiller! Woods on fire!”
The man did not wait, just drove on again. Had Joel heard right? Did the man say woods on fire?
Joel did not wait either. He banged into the store.
There sat Myra Ross at the counter reading a book. She was always reading a book, or writing something in a tablet. Sometimes she pounded a typewriter in the back room. She wrote up the local news for the Myrtle Creek weekly paper.
“The woods is on fire!” cried Joel. “Over by Tiller!”
Myra did not look up. She kept on reading.
“I tell you the woods is on fire!” shouted Joel.
Myra looked up, unperturbed.
“I heard you the first time,” she said quietly.
“It’s a forest fire—over by Tiller,” Joel went on.
“Did somebody set it?” asked Myra.
“I don’t know,” said Joel.
“Or drop a cigarette?”
“I don’t know,” said Joel.
“Or did a boy have matches in his pocket?”
“I don’t know. The man didn’t say,” said Joel.
“Who told you?”
“That truck driver, on that blue truck,” said Joel. “That’s the Empire Logging Company.”
Myra didn’t seem to care. Forest fires meant nothing to her. She wasn’t a logger. She often bragged about how she had never been in the woods to see the men falling or bucking or getting the logs out. All she did was read and write. Joel rushed out the door and banged it hard behind him. He’d like to knock the store over, he’d show her!
There was no one around. No cars parked by the store as usual. No one coming in to buy groceries or coming out with their arms full of paper bags. Where the heck was everybody, anyhow?
Joel rushed up the woods road to tell Mom. On the way, he began to feel guilty. Had he and Billy put their campfire out properly? Did they take the time to douse it the second time? He could not remember. It was a long time ago, but maybe the fire had been smoldering all this time, and finally broke out just above Tiller. All at once his pants pocket felt hot. The matches in his pocket were burning him again. Or was it only imagination? That’s right—Mom had taken them away from him.
“Where are the groceries?” asked Mom.
“The woods is on fire, Mom! Over back of Tiller!” shouted Joel.
“Oh, no!” cried Mom. “It can’t be.”
She would not believe it until Joel explained how he knew. Sandy and Jinx listened, eyes and mouths wide open.
Mom refused to take the news seriously.
“Good thing it rained last night,” she said. “It was only a sprinkle, but every drop helps. Bad thunder and a lot of lightning. Maybe it will rain again.”
“The sky’s looking dark,” said Sandy. “The sun’s gone under.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s gonna rain hard!” cried Jinx.
They were just talking to ease their fears.
“Dad’s been worried the last couple of days,” Mom went on. “He said if the humidity went any lower, the men would be ordered out of the woods again. Too much risk. The woods is as dry as tinder. It’s typical forest fire weather.”
Joel went outside. The sky did seem to be getting a little darker now. More rain would put the fire out, but not a drop came. Only lightning. Lightning flashed again and again. All the loggers dreaded lightning. It could start a dozen fires. It always struck the dead snags.
Joel ran back to the kitchen door.
“Mom, I’m going to hitch a ride on a logging truck and go and tell Dad.” Joel wanted to see Dad as soon as possible.
“No, you’re not,” said Mom. “No use goin’ there. Dad’ll find it out soon enough. Go back down to the store and get those groceries. Tell Myra that if the women are needed to let me know. Tell her to send word to Dot Kramer and Lizzie Borden. And ask if she’s got plenty of coffee in stock.”
There were no telephones, so messages had to be sent by word of mouth.
Joel was glad to go to the store again. It was the best place to hear all the latest news.
He ran in at the door. Myra was talking to two strange men and Joel listened. The fire had started at Day’s Creek and was now on the hills back of Tiller. Lightning had struck in two or three places—that was what caused it. The fire was headed south. The Forest Service had all their men out.
The strangers left and Joel asked, “Myra, you got plenty coffee?”
Myra nodded, so he went out again. Then he remembered the rest of the message. He went back in.
“Mom says send word to Dot Kramer and Liz Borden,” the boy said. “Mom says she’ll come if you need her.”
“O.K.,” said Myra.
He pulled the list out of his pocket.
“Mom wants these groceries,” he said.
Myra took the list and began putting things in paper sacks. Joel waited, standing first on one foot, then another. He wondered why she was so slow. How could she be so slow, when there was a fire going on?
“Why are you so pokey?” he asked. “Don’t you know the woods is burning up?”
Myra did not answer.
“Charge it,” said Joel. He picked up the grocery bags and rushed home.
There was no word from Dad. Mom said he had probably been called off his job and was helping to fight the fire.
At home with Mom and the girls, Joel could learn nothing. So again he went to the store. The store was the center of information. People came there to bring and to hear the latest news. If there was any news, the store was the place to hear it.
Snuff Carter and Jim Hunter came up, but they knew nothing. Then Billy Weber appeared and Billy had news. He said more fires were starting. It had kept on drizzling and lightning flashed off and on. The lightning was starting one fire after another. The fire had come up the canyon to Tiller, run along the ridge behind the church, jumped the South Umpqua River, and was now back up behind the Forest Service Station.
“Oh, gosh!” said Joel. “Then it’s coming up this way—up towards Dad’s timber. Is your dad out fire-fighting, Billy?”
“Naw,” said Billy. “He says it’s no use.”
“No use?” cried Joel. “No use savin’ the woods? Savin’ the trees for your dad and mine to log and get paid for?”
“Dad says once a fire starts, it’s got to run its course,” said Billy.
A Forest Service man drove up, stopped and went into the store. The boys recognized Bob Downey. A crowd of people had gathered.
Bob said the fire was moving fast. He said it was hard to fight because the units were far apart. They needed men with cats and bulldozers to push fire trails in a dozen places. Joel started to speak to him, but Bob was too busy to listen. He drove off.
“I bet my dad will go and help,” said Joel. “He’s probably there already. My dad’s not afraid of anything—not even of a forest fire.”
Billy said nothing.
Jinx and Sandy came down the road. They had cookies and potato chips with them, and gave some to the boys.
About noon, cars drove up and several women got out, children too. Joel saw Mom, Dot Kramer, Lizzie Borden, and others he knew. They had had Myra’s message and brought food supplies with them. Myra’s kitchen, which opened off at one side of the store, was soon a busy place. The women made coffee and prepared sandwiches. They talked about the fire and gossiped about their neighbors. Children ran in and out, laughing and crying.
“I’m hungry,” said Joel. “I’m goin’ in to see what I can find.”
“Get me something to eat, too,” said Billy.
When he came out Joel had a bulging paper sack, and his hands full of candy bars and popsicles.
“Whew!” said Billy. “You made a big haul.”
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“You bet I did!” said Joel. “Mom told me to help myself.”
The two boys went down to the creek back of the store to eat. They took their shoes off and sat on rocks with their feet in the water. They ate greedily. Everything tasted good. The popsicles had to be eaten first before they melted.
“Bet you had to pay for these,” said Billy.
“No,” said Joel, “I don’t have any money. I just charged them, like groceries. Myra didn’t like it much, but a person can’t go hungry when a forest fire’s going on.”
After they ate, Joel got up and looked around. He found some small white bones lying in the grass.
“Look at this, Billy,” he said.
Billy came to look. It was the skeleton of an animal.
“Here’s its legs all together,” said Joel. “There’s the body.”
“There’s the head and the neck and the jaws and teeth,” said Billy.
“What do you think it is?” asked Joel.
“A beaver, I bet,” said Billy. “There’s a tree he chawed down.” Near by was the stump of a tree.
“Myra said there was a beaver down here,” said Joel. “I remember how mad she got when it chawed down the post for her clothesline and all her clothes went down in the mud!”
The boys laughed.
“This will be fine for my museum,” said Billy. “Gimme that paper sack.” He put the bones inside. “I’ve got ten snake rattles, some old coins, some fish bones, birds’ nests, and a lot of stuff already.”
“There comes the Forest Service!” cried Joel. “Let’s go see.”
A Forest Service truck drew up, filled with supplies—hoes, axes, shovels, and piles of blankets. The driver went in the store and asked again for volunteers—loggers with cats and bulldozers to scoop dirt and lay back-fires. He wanted men.
But there were no men at the store, only women. The women said their men were already in the woods. They gave him all the sandwiches and food they had ready.
When the Forest Service man came out of the store, the boys asked him, “Can we go with you? We want to see the fire. We’ll help fight it.”
“No,” said the man. He jumped in his truck and rode off.
By this time the sky up above the ridge was red. Smoke filled the air, darkened the valley and blotted out the sun. Lightning flashed. No logging trucks came by. The highway seemed quiet and deserted without them. People stood around at the store, talking quietly and watching the sky. Jinx and Sandy and the Kramer girls were there, talking and laughing, as if there was no forest fire at all. The boys hung around and waited. They didn’t quite know what they were waiting for. But they could not leave the store.
Late that afternoon, Matt Weber, Billy’s father, drove up in a truck and got out. Another man, Ben Watson, drove up in a beat-up old car. Ben was a good faller. He used to fall with Big Joe. Ben’s unshaven face was covered with soot and grime, his eyes were bloodshot, and his clothing was torn. Billy’s dad went to the car window to talk.
“You look like you been through the war,” said Matt.
“Worse’n that,” said Ben. “I been through hell fire! How come you ain’t fire-fightin’?”
“I hate that job as much as you do,” said Matt. “Every logger hates fire-fightin’.”
“But some of us got to do it,” said Ben. “I’m sick and tired of it. We just git one fire under control and another one starts. Those old dead snags are hollow and got pitch at the bottom. They’re just waitin’ for a torch, they go up like a chimney. Lightning keeps strikin’ ’em. The Forest Service needs all the men they can get. You gonna come help us, Matt?”
“Nope,” said Billy’s dad. “It’s all a waste o’ time. When the woods is a furnace, men can’t do a thing. Two hundred acres burning sky-high, no man can stop it. Only heavy rain. When it gets into the crowns of the trees, that crazy fire goes leaping from treetop to treetop, and then the burning branches fall and set fire to everything on the ground. It’s no place for a man, I say. There’s not a thing a man can do to stop a fire once it gets going. He wears himself out, but that don’t stop the fire.”
“You won’t fight to save the woods,” said Ben Watson, “even if it means your livelihood and feedin’ your own family?”
“I won’t volunteer,” said Matt, “and if they draft me, I’ll go but I won’t work. I’m not the only one and you know it. Most of the loggers feel as I do. That’s why so many walk off the job.”
The men’s words were sharp now. Was there going to be a fight? Ben Watson got mad easy. He was known as a ready fighter. But this time he only spoke, and his words were as sharp as a knife.
“Some men are just quitters!” he said, and drove off.
Billy’s dad was mad, too. He called to Billy and they got in the truck and left.
“Oh, here’s your sack!” cried Joel, running after the truck. “You forgot your bones, Billy.”
But Billy was gone, so Joel kept the sack. He would take good care of it until he saw Billy again.
When Mom left the store, she called to the girls and Joel. She made them all go home with her. She went home and started supper. Pretty soon Uncle Irv drove up in his pick-up. He was dirty and tired and worn. He looked as if he hadn’t slept for ages.
“I can’t stay but a minute,” he said. “They’re trailin’ the fire now, to hold it. Big Joe told me to come and tell you. He won’t be comin’ home tonight. The Forest Service came and took him off his job. They need all the fallers they can get. Where he’s workin’, the trees are all on fire, and he’s falling them, to keep the fire from spreading.”
“Falling burning trees?” cried Mom.
“Yes,” said Irv. “It’s got to be done.”
“Did they get the food?” Mom asked.
“Yes, there’s plenty of food and everything,” said Irv. “The Forest Service is right on the job. They’re stayin’ right there, where the worst fire is, in charge. Trouble is it’s been jumpin’ from one place to another, and that’s bad. At least twenty-one fires have started from this lightning. The Forest Service planes are out checking all locations.”
Then he added, “Big Joe says he can’t leave tonight, ’cause so many men walked off the job.”
“Walked off?” said Mom.
“They don’t like fightin’ other people’s fires,” said Irv. “They lose money leavin’ their own jobs. They need every day’s wage they can get in summer, before winter comes and logging stops and they can’t earn a penny. You know how it is.”
“But the Forest Service pays them, don’t they?” asked Mom.
“Sure, but they like to gripe,” said Irv. “Every logger just detests and loathes and hates fightin’ fires and everybody knows it, though some won’t admit it. So they quit when the Forest Service is not looking.”
Mom said, “I can’t understand it. It’s hard work, but …”
“Some are like Big Joe,” said Irv. “They don’t leave. They eat and sleep and stay by a fire till it’s plumb out.” He paused a minute, then went on, “I almost forgot. It’s different with Joe, you see. He’s fightin’ for himself, not for somebody else. Big Joe said to tell you the fire’s movin’ over to his timber. That’s why he can’t leave!”
It was bad news and Irv did not wait to see how his sister liked it. He jumped in his truck and rattled off.
Mom sank down in a chair and covered her face with her hands.
“It’s in Dad’s timber!” she said. Then she began to cry.
Jinx and Sandy put their arms around her. Joel stomped out of the house, he felt so bad about it.
But there was nothing they could do.
The next day was the longest one Joel ever lived through. The sky was overcast but the hoped-for rain did not come. In the air all through the valley was the heavy smell of burning wood and smoke. The smoke was so heavy it was hard to see and harder to breathe. The men did not come back, although others went to relieve them. Mom was sick with worry, but did not talk much.
 
; At midday, Billy Weber came over and he and Joel decided to go up the mountain to see what was going on. Joel was worried about Dad’s timber. Perhaps they could get close enough to see just how bad the fire was. They had not gone far when they heard a shout. Jinx came running up behind them.
“I’m going, too,” she said.
The children did not talk much as they made the hard climb. At last they came to the range where the cows were. The cows were huddled in one corner, as if they sensed something wrong.
The children climbed the fences and went on toward the big woods. Soon they saw signs of trouble.
Cats and bulldozers had been through and cleared roadways on the edge of the mountain. This was National Forest now and the children could see ahead a large burned-over section. Fallen trees and brush tangles had been turned to ashes. The fire had moved on, leaving behind a scene of desolation. Ahead, in the tall woods, smoke was rolling high, flames flared up at intervals and the heavy smell of burning wood filled the air. Machinery and men were over beyond. The children stood still and looked.
“That’s Dad’s timber over there,” said Joel, pointing. “It looks like the fire’s there already.”
“The wind’s blowing it that-a-way,” said Billy.
“But the rain will come and stop it,” said Jinx, hopefully. “I’m sure it will. Look! Oh, look at the animals!”
Off to one side the children saw a stream of animals moving—rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, mice, raccoons, and behind them a small herd of deer. They were singed and frightened, running away from the fire. They came out of the burning woods and ran down a steep bank, crossing over a woods road. They ran into the unburned part of the forest. A few stragglers followed behind.
“Oh, I hope they won’t get burned up!” cried Jinx.
“The men are stopping the fire,” said Joel. “And it sure looks like rain. As soon as it rains, the men can come home and rest easy.”
“Dark sky’s not clouds,” said Billy. “It’s smoke.”