by Phillip E. Neff (Author)

Wisps of smoke snaked out of the ground and gathered in a layer about ten feet above the charred remnants of a once proud and lush forest. Three days had passed since the 40,000 acres had succumbed to Mother Nature's wrath and the army of forest fire fighters assembled to do battle with her. Fireman Thomas Parks was wending his way up Beaver Snatch Mountain extinguishing hot spots as he went. It was hot dreary and tiresome work mopping up after a big fire. As Thomas crested the ridge line of the modest mountain, he encountered a small stand of young Douglas fir unscathed by the inferno.

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