THE SMALL RANGERS

Three days of rain had ended during the night.

Walt was already at the east dock. Wet pine needles clung to WATCHFUL’s hull, and small twigs drifted against the pilings. He ran WATCHFUL’s stern rope through one paw. “Up four inches.”

Ellis came down the path carrying the ranger log. He looked across the lake, where the water reached farther into the reeds than it had the week before. “Three days of rain.” He opened the log and wrote: High water. Check south bridges and low trail sections. He closed the notebook.

Walt pulled the starter cord. WATCHFUL’s motor caught on the first pull. He rested one paw on the gunwale while the engine warmed. “Good.” Ellis climbed aboard. They headed south.

The channel moved faster than usual. Water pressed into the reeds along the bank, carrying small sticks and last year’s leaves. A muskrat swam across a quiet cove ahead of them, disappeared beneath an overhanging bank, and went on about its morning.

As they rounded the bend, Reed Crossing came into view. Its cedar boards were dark from the rain. They tied WATCHFUL at the south landing and walked toward the bridge. The ground near the bank was soft. Ellis tested each step. Walt walked closer to the cedar roots where the footing was firmer.

Ellis stepped onto the first plank. It held. He stepped onto the middle plank. The board gave beneath his weight. Not much. Enough. Ellis stopped. Neither of them spoke.

Walt was already kneeling beside the stream, looking underneath the bridge. One timber brace had slipped free of its bracket. He stood and walked back toward WATCHFUL. By the time Ellis reached the end of the bridge, Walt was returning with the hand driver and a cedar wedge.

Ellis waited at the bank. From beneath the bridge came two solid knocks. Then quiet. A moment later Walt climbed back up. He stepped onto the middle plank. He waited. Shifted his weight. Nothing moved.

“Holding.”

Ellis opened the ranger log. Reed Crossing bridge secured. He closed the notebook.

They crossed together. The cedar boards were still wet beneath their feet. They did not give.

Beyond the bridge, they continued along the south trail, checking the low places where the ground was still soft. One narrow stretch would need another week of drying. Ellis marked it for the next patrol.

By early afternoon they were back at the east dock. Walt tied WATCHFUL to the second cleat and checked the stern rope one last time. Ellis closed the log. “South trail inspected. Reed Crossing bridge secured. Low sections monitoring.” Walt pulled once on the rope. “Sound.” “We’ll check.”

The water hurried beneath Reed Crossing. The bridge did not.

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