Eleanor winked at Polly and Polly smiled gratefully at her, but Anne
broached another subject to spare the sisters an argument.
The horses had been jogging along a trail that now turned off to what
looked like a wide plain.
"Here's the bridge I've been heading for," said Polly. "From here on,
it's clear going to Lone Pine Blaze."
"Bridge! Do you call this a bridge," laughed Eleanor.
"It's a forest ranger's bridge. They build these over chasms and
streams so horses and men can quickly reach any part of the forest when
there is a fire. If they had to ford swift streams, or go round about,
much time would be lost."
The bridge in question was made of loose tree-trunks thrown across the
river and pegged down on either side where the ends rested upon the
steep banks.
After crossing the log-bridge, Polly led the way towards what seemed to
be a veritable wilderness of forest. Giant pines thrust their green
tops far above trees that would have been considered landmarks in the
East, but were deemed quite ordinary in the West. Next in height to the
commonly-sized pines came gigantic oaks and then the still shorter
aspens and lodge-pole pine.
"You never intend breaking through that tangle of trees, I hope,
Polly!" cried Barbara, who had never seen such a bewildering growth of
forest in her life.
"No, not this time! I'm making for that pine that you can see way above
all of the others.
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