The way Pops explained things, we were going to demonstrate a bunch of ways to stop farm erosion in its tracks and also put some really sick land to good use.

He unrolled a map and pointed to a spot in the center of it. “This is a plot that reverted back to the government after a string of homesteaders gave up on it, and it’s as good an example of all that’s wrong as you’ll find anywhere.”

Turning to the chalkboard, he said, “Right now it looks something like this.” He drew a square and then sketched in some bluffs and a small creek.

“I’ve been around long enough to remember when that was a pretty stream,” he said, “but these days it’s naked as a jaybird. Just about every shrub and tree that ever grew along it was cut down, plowed under, or killed by grazing. It dries up most summers and silts up when it doesn’t.”

“Silts up?” someone asked.

“Fills with dirt that washes into it when the gullies run full.”

Then Pops drew a rough oval over a portion of his picture. “And this,” he said, “is what’s going to keep you fellows earning your keep.”

“A lake?” someone guessed.

“More like a pond,” he answered. “Just a couple of acres of reservoir. But that’s big enough to help get control over the erosion that stripped stream is causing. And it—and the land around it—will be a place where wildlife can make a comeback. Birds, especially, which will help with grasshoppers.”

“So . . . how do you make a pond?” someone asked. “Just dig it?”

“We’ll do some digging,” Pops answered. “But we’ll mainly follow the contours of the land, deepening a natural basin that’s already there. The bank on one side will need to be built up. And an earthen dam will go on the lowest side, along with a small concrete spillway.

“We’ll plant willows and other shrubs along all the banks to help hold the soil in place and invite those birds in.”

Someone said, “It sounds like a lot of work to go to, to kill a few bugs.”

I glanced around, sure it had to be a city fellow talking, and I was right.

Pops told him, “If you’d ever seen a grasshopper army eat through a whole wheat field in just hours, you wouldn’t be saying that. Besides, the camp’s projects are about a lot more than grasshoppers.” He glanced at his watch. “But right now, it’s time for lunch. Afterwards, there’ll be a fellow in from the Soil Conservation Service to tell you about that.”

Most of the guys left for the mess hall, but a few, including Nate and me, hung around to study the map and drawing. Nate told Pops, “I know that land. It abuts ours on the west side.”