Charley started back to the line of flames again.  “If a turtle-dove can do a thing like that,” he muttered to himself, “you’re a poor thing if you can’t face a little blaze like this.”

He cut a new bush, once more fell on the fire, and never ceased his efforts until not a single blaze lighted the forest.  Then he stepped inside the burned area and made his way completely around the edge of it.  The ashes were hot and Charley knew that they might scorch the leather in his shoes.  But he also knew there would be no rattlesnakes where the fire had burned.  When Charley came to the stump again, he turned his flash-light on its top.  The dove had returned and was once more hovering over her little ones.

When he was certain that the fire was absolutely extinguished, Charley made his way through the dark forest to his tent and made his nightly report.  It gave him great happiness to be able to report that the fire was extinguished and that once more all was well in the forest.

Mr. Marlin had sent out to Charley a package of books that dealt with various phases of work in the forest.  Night after night, by the light of candles, Charley sat in his tent studying his texts.  He found them fascinating.  Here in the forest, where every day he could see illustrated the truth of what he had read the night before, he learned, with unbelievable rapidity.  Whenever he came to anything in his texts that he did not understand, he made a note of it.  Sometimes at night he got Lew on the wireless and through him questioned the forester.  He did not want to bother the government wireless men except in case of necessity.

Two or three times a week the forester came out to see Charley and to keep an eye on this, his finest stand of timber.  From time to time he brought supplies and more books.  Indeed Charley’s capacity to acquire what was in the books astonished the forester.  He knew that Charley understood because of his intelligent questions and his increasingly intelligent practices; for, without orders to do it, Charley was voluntarily doing many of the tasks that Mr. Morton should have done in the forest.  As he grew in comprehension of the needs of the forest, Charley began to make suggestions to the forester.  More than one of these proved practicable, and Charley was given permission to go ahead with the proposals.  Before he knew it, Charley found himself working sixteen hours a day and regretting that the days were not longer.  And as always happens to people who are busy about work they love, Charley was supremely happy.

Not the least part of his happiness came from his wireless talks with the ranger’s wife.  With a speed that surprised him, Mrs. Morton learned both to read and send.  On the very first evening after the doctor brought her dry cells, Mrs. Morton managed to tick out an acknowledgment of Charley’s call.  And though it was faltering and uneven, Charley read it and smiled with delight.  As he slowly ticked off the letters of the alphabet and the first ten numerals, Mrs. Morton listened intently, jotting down the dots and dashes on a bit of paper.