CHAPTER XII

THE ICE PATROL

“But say, I call this pretty tough,” broke in the irrepressible Herb. “Here we fellows came away up to Spruce Mountain in the hope of finding a little excitement, and you say there aren’t going to be any more fires. What kind of treatment do you call that, I’d like to know?”

This time Mr. Bentley laughed whole-heartedly.

“Sorry to cheat you out of a good show, my boy,” he said, while the others grinned. “Perhaps we’ll be able to put on something for you before you leave. However,” and his face became suddenly grave, “a forest fire is really not in the least amusing. It is the most heartbreaking thing in the world—a fight that brings out all that is best in a man, a struggle that taxes his courage to the limit. If you had ever lived through one—a real one, I mean, where your flesh is scorched and your eyes go blind in the agony of the fight—you would be thankful, as we here at the station are thankful, for this respite. It is probably only a respite,” he continued in his old light tone, “for the old demon is bound to break out sometime, somewhere. And when it does, there will be excitement enough to satisfy even you lads.”

As the boys walked slowly back toward the lodge, Mr. Bentley’s words went with them. But, so far from dulling their desire to see a real forest fire—one “in which your flesh is scorched and your eyes go blind in the agony of the fight”—the ranger’s vivid description merely fired their imaginations and made them all the more eager, not only to see, but to participate in such a fight.

“It would be worth a couple of burned hands and the loss of an eyebrow or two,” chuckled Joe, unconsciously voicing what was in the minds of all of them, “just to be in a show like that once.”

“I’ll say it would,” agreed Jimmy, softly.

As they neared the lodge their pace quickened. They had spent more time at the station than they had intended and they were fearful that Dr. Dale might have arrived to find no one awaiting him.

But the rambling little house was as quiet as it had been when they left it and they concluded that Dr. Dale had scheduled his arrival for some time later that afternoon.

They set about getting lunch, talking excitedly about the marvels of the ranger station.

“Say, make believe I wouldn’t like to get a job there!” cried Herb, longingly. “Believe me, those rangers live some easy life.”

“Except when there happens to be a fire,” Bob reminded him. “From what Mr. Bentley says, I guess at such times they are pretty much on the job. But say, fellows, be honest,” he added. “Did you ever see a radio outfit to equal that set over there?”

“Sure is some apparatus,” agreed Joe, appreciatively. “The fellow I envy most is that operator. I’ll tell you, he’s the one that has the real job.”

Later in the day Dr. Dale came, to be greeted boisterously by the boys. The clergyman was in a good humor himself and listened with an indulgent smile while the boys poured the story of the morning’s visit to the rangers into his willing ears.

“I don’t wonder you’re enthusiastic,” he said. “Seems to me the forest rangers have about the most romantic branch of the Government, even more so, perhaps than the men of the Iceberg Patrol.”

“What’s that?” queried the boys, instantly alert. For they knew by experience and by the far-away look in Dr. Dale’s eyes that he was thinking of something interesting.

“Why,” said the doctor, settling himself comfortably, “I had in mind the International Ice Patrol which was organized soon after the disaster of the ‘Titanic.’”

“Oh,” said Bob, with interest. “The ‘Titanic’ was wrecked by colliding with an iceberg, wasn’t she?”

Dr. Dale nodded soberly.

“Went down with hundreds of souls,” he answered. “A useless and horrible waste of lives.” He paused, while in his eyes was a great pity for those who had gone down with the great ocean liner.

“And after the horse had been stolen,” he went on, just when the boys thought they could stand the delay no longer, “our Government, as well as the Government of other nations, decided to lock the stable door.”

“And did they do it?” asked Joe eagerly.

“They did it—and nobly,” answered the doctor, with a smile. “That was when they started the International Ice Patrol.

“You see,” he went on, while the boys listened interestedly, “in the old days, the transatlantic steamers ran directly through the most dangerous part of the spring ice field and only the greatest vigilance on the part of their captains kept them from colliding with the giant icebergs drifting from the north.”

“Must have been fun though,” interrupted Herb. “Dodging in and out of icebergs and seeing how close you could come without getting scratched.”

“Yes,” replied Dr. Dale, “but it wasn’t any fun at all when you did get scratched. And in the old days that happened all too often, especially in foggy weather.”

“They didn’t have any radio in those days, either,” put in Bob, thoughtfully.

“No,” returned the doctor. “At that time radio was very much in its infancy and no one thought of using it for the purpose of combating icebergs.”

“And are they now—using radio, I mean?” asked Jimmy, eagerly.

“Very much so,” replied the doctor. “After the tragedy of the ‘Titanic,’ the big nations got together and thought up a method by which radio—then still in its infancy—might be used to warn vessels of the presence of ice and turn them aside from the danger zone.”

“That’s one use of radio I never thought of before,” said Joe. “Can you tell us how it’s done, Doctor?”

“Very sketchily, I’m afraid,” returned the doctor, modestly. “I haven’t made a study of it at all, although the romance of the service has always appealed to me.

“You see,” he continued, warming to his story as he saw the genuine interest on the faces of the boys, “even after the advent of faster, larger steamers, when the lanes of travels were shifted southward in order to avoid the normal limit of danger from the drifting icebergs, there was still considerable menace from the terrors of the sea.

“But of course one could never be absolutely sure just what the limit of danger was. Sometimes, after an exceptionally early start from the north, icebergs still blocked the paths of commerce. Everyone feared a calamity and—they got one, in the wreck of the ‘Titanic.’

“It was after that that ship owners all over the world began to think of radio as a possible solution of the problem confronting them. If it had not been for the new science no one knows just how they would have met the situation. Possibly they might not have been able to meet it at all.

“But through radio they have now perfected a method by which the lives of ships passing through the danger zone during the iceberg season are practically insured.”

“But how? Please tell us all about it,” begged Bob.

“It sounds pretty interesting to me,” added Jimmy, as he surreptitiously slipped a cake from his pocket and began to nibble it. Doughnuts and his sweets could not long be parted.

“It is interesting,” agreed Dr. Dale. “To go deeply into the subject would take too much time. But I can sketch the idea for you.

“The work is done by Coast Guard cutters and consists of patrolling the iceberg zone. As soon as an iceberg is sighted the cutter ranges alongside it, carefully noting its drift and the rate of speed at which it is traveling.

“Then it sends out a wireless report to all vessels in the vicinity, telling the location of the iceberg and asking in return the exact location of the vessels.

“In that way ships sailing through the danger zone manage to steer clear of the iceberg or bergs and, by keeping in constant touch with the patrol boat, come through safely to clearer waters. It’s a marvelous work and it is meeting with marvelous success. Another triumph of radio.”

“Say,” breathed Bob, “I bet the radio operators on those patrol boats are kept busy.”

“Indeed they are,” said the doctor, with his genial smile. “Especially as most of the ships are not content with the broadcasted information, but must constantly send in for special news. Some of them send in a message every little while inquiring if the coast is clear and what, under present conditions, is the best route to take from one point to another. Oh, yes, the operators are kept fairly busy, all right.”

“It’s a wonderful thing,” said Bob thoughtfully. “There doesn’t seem to be anything any more that radio isn’t used for.”

Owing to the urgent invitation of the boys, Dr. Dale consented to stay with them over night, saying, however, that he must positively leave the following afternoon as there were matters in Clintonia which he must attend to.

The boys were glad of even so short a visit and when the time came at last for their good friend to leave they were very sorry to see him go.

“Take care of yourselves, lads,” said the doctor, as he started off. “And be careful not to start any forest fires around here. The Old First Church isn’t hankering for any!”

The boys promised laughingly, and then, as trees hid the doctor from view, turned and entered the lodge again.

“Too bad he couldn’t have stayed longer,” said Herb. “He certainly is a good sport.”

“And that was some tale he told us about radio and icebergs, wasn’t it?” asked Joe, reflectively. “He’s right when he says it’s almost as interesting as the ranger service.”

“Well,” said Bob, with a grin, “when we get too hot fighting forest fires, we can cool off by fighting icebergs for a change.”

“I imagine we’d cool off all right,” agreed Herb. “I bet it’s mighty cold where those icebergs come from.”

“You said it,” agreed Jimmy, adding briskly: “But now, to get right down to business, when do we eat?”

Since it was then early in the afternoon and they had just finished lunch, the boys fell upon the unfortunate Doughnuts and pommeled him right properly.

“Good gracious, don’t you ever think of anything but eating?” asked Herb. Then, seeing that Jimmy had taken refuge in the pantry, Herb yanked him out with scant ceremony. “If we left you in there loose,” said the latter, by way of explanation, “there wouldn’t be anything left for dinner.”

“Come over here, fellows!” commanded Bob, a sudden queer sound in his voice. He was standing near the door and the boys went quickly to him.

“Look over there beyond those trees. Do you see smoke?”