Leaf leaned back in his seat, put the truck in gear, and drove south up Julip Road.

Nothing but stumps.

Way back to the east, a few hemlock and white pine loomed above the Black River Canyon, protected by direct orders from the state. They didn’t want to scare away the tourists, wanted to keep the rivers looking nice.

After a half hour the road narrowed and hefty slate boulders protruding from the grade. The truck shook as it hit them, and Aaron worried about his gear. A few moments later the pleasant spice of sweet gale wafted towards him, and he knew a stream was close. To his right a considerable hill rose up to undulating sections of land, now stumps. It was a unique piece of high ground in these parts.

Buzz tapped on the truck and the vehicle groaned to a halt.

“I’d like to get a bearing,” Buzz said.

“You’re the boss, eh,” Leaf said.

Leaf pulled the truck to the side of the road, got out, and walked to the bed.

“Come on boys, lets stretch them legs.” The hounds jumped down, twirled, and panted by their master’s side.

The men and the hounds walked up the hill towards the open piece of land.

Buzz halted at the top, his mouth agape. “You folks believe this view?”

“Beaut isn’t she?” Leaf said. The dogs panted at his feet and seemed to enjoy the view as well.

They looked out over a valley of stumps, and beyond that to the Huron Mountains. The exposed rock outcroppings held uncut hemlock and white pine.

“There she is,” Buzz said, pointing at the ruggedness. “The home of the last mountain lion.”

Leaf nodded in agreement and lit his pipe.

Buzz turned to Aaron, who was gawking at the view. “You going to take the photograph?”

Aaron shook his head. Although he respected Buzz, the tone of his voice could annoy. “Don’t I always? What do you think I dragged this contraption up here for?”

Leaf snickered, and Buzz shot him a look.

“Let’s get on with it,” Buzz said, walking away. “I’m off to find that stream. I think it’s on the other side of the grade.”

“That stream is known as the Black,” Leaf said before putting his lips to his pipe.

After a few minutes of absorbing the view, Aaron and Leaf headed downhill, the hounds on their heels.

At the truck, Buzz drank from a beading canteen, then handed the others theirs.

“Wonderful country, eh lads?” he said. “The river was just over there. No trout but the water was good ’n’ clear.”

Leaf nodded. “A man could not see finer.”

Aaron lumbered into the passenger seat, his gear smashing into the window frame. He grumbled as sweat beaded on his face. Perhaps the fires and the heat were finally getting to him.