Early Days in the Forest Service Volume 4

TOP RANGER, DIPLOMAT, JUDGE, JURY AND ADVOCATE
By I.V. Anderson

In the early 20's I heard much about those hearty guardians of Uncle Sam's National Forest classified in Region 1 as TOP RANGERS. One that I was personally acquainted with and worked with was a tobacco-chewin', whiskey-drinkin' character. Another was a suave diplomatic and God fearing individual. Both types were much respected as community leaders and were jacks-of-all trades and doers. They knew how to inspire loyalty and high performance in spite of a paucity of funds and low salary.

Ben Saint was on the Region's Top Ranger list and in my book was a real diplomat, judge, jury and advocate. His district when I knew him was headquartered at Noxon, Montana, on the old Cabinet Forest but now a portion of the east end of the Kaniksu. I was the only technical forester on the Forest with the exception of Harry Baker, the Forest Supervisor. In those days of manual performance, technical foresters were viewed with a rather critical eye. In the fall of 1921 Supervisor Baker sent me to Noxon to help Ben cruise a few small tracts of timber. All timber sale activities were centered in the Supervisor's office at that time. Winter had set in and there was already about 8 inches of snow up and down the valley. Even though it was only 40 miles from Thompson Falls to Noxon, the job down there was at least a 3- or 4-day proposition because of transportation difficulties of those times. Travel up and down the valley from Thompson Falls was by the NP local train known as the Dinky. The Dinky was a cozy little outfit. After a few trips on it one knew the train crew by their first names. The engineer would stop most any place to pick you up or let you off.

Upon my arrival at Noxon, Ben and I loaded our gear on his buckboard and left for the Harker place near Heron, downriver approximately 12 miles. The road was barely passable at that time of year, but wasn't a bad road for horse and buckboard. Our buckboard ride terminated at the Harker place. We still had to get across the river because there was no road on the north side of the Clark Fork River in those days nor was there a bridge at the Harker place. We crossed by cable crossing. That was one of my first real thrills as a forester on the Cabinet Forest. The cable was suspended better than a hundred feet over the river and had quite a belly in it, so when you started out you picked up speed until you got about two-thirds of the way across then had to handline your way up to the anchor tree on the north side of the river. Before I had been around that part of the country very long I learned to operate that river crossing with little or no trouble. We landed on the north side of the river at what is now state highway 200. At this time in 1921 the wagon road on the north side of the Clark Fork River dead ended at the Rhodes homestead about 1-3/4 miles beyond the present Bull River crossing. Then, it started up again about 2 miles further on. Even though we were on a road on the north side of the river it was a hikin' chance, so we hiked on down river three or four miles and then up on the mountain where we cruised our proposed timber sale. This didn't take us very long; in fact, the job of getting there and getting back to the ranger station was much the bigger part of the job.

As soon as we finished we started on down the mountain towards the cable crossing of the river. We hadn't gone very far before we saw a trail where somebody had dragged a deer down the mountainside within the past several hours. In those days Forest Rangers were game wardens by cooperative agreement with the State of Montana. I had just received mine and was rather proud of the assignment, so I thought here was a chance to exercise our prerogatives as game wardens. I said to Ben, "It looks like we'll get somebody here without much trouble, with a trail like this to follow." Ben didn't seem too interested in it; in fact, seemed a little bit bothered. Nevertheless we started on this hot trail down the side of the mountain, slipping in snow here and there. In about 1/4 of a mile we arrived at one of the homesteads on the north side of the river, a rather humble looking affair with log barns and an all-log house. The trail led across a small clearing just on the uphill side of the barn. I said to Ben, "I wouldn't be a bit surprised but what that deer is hung up inside the barn. Maybe we should go in and pick it up so we have the evidence." In those days we didn't think as much about the search seizure law as we do now. Neither Ben nor I thought of a search warrant, but nevertheless Ben was expressing his feelings by dragging his feet. Finally he said, "Yes, Andy, I think probably we'll find that venison in there, but before we go in, 1 want to tell you something about this family down there." Then he proceeded to give me their name, and said, "You know Jim has had terrible bad luck the last few years. His wife took sick a year or two ago, had to go to the hospital at Sandpoint, then to the doctor at Spokane, and she came back here and died." He said, "You know there's only a 12-year old girl keeping house for Jim and 2 other kids. Jim is trying his best to keep the family together. I really think it would be a terrible calamity if we went in there and made an arrest; furthermore, I doubt very much if we'd have a Chinaman's chance of proving their guilt at the JP court at Thompson Falls." Well, I began to see the light. I said, "Ben, you're the boss, I'll follow." Ben discreetly led us around the clearing and down to the road out of sight of the place, and we completed our journey back to Noxon. All in all it took us three days to complete a job of that kind. It took me a couple of years and several administrative mistakes to really appreciate Ben, and only then did I come to the realization that many of the early day rangers were truly judge, jury, and advocate all wrapped up in one package.