One morning, before the sun began to rise and the owls had gone to bed, the lumberjack
began to trek into the forest. The air was cool and the forest smelled of pine. The lumberjack
found his first tree to begin cutting for the day. The only sound of that quiet morning was the
thud of the axe hitting the tree. Pine needles continuously fell from the sky. The lumberjack was
already beginning to smell like pine and the axe was slowly getting a shell of sap. CRASH! The
forest echoed with the sound of the first tree to be cut that day hitting the tight-packed
earth.

The burly lumberjack smiled with satisfaction. He began to roll the giant tree slowly toward
his mill. He pushed the tree all the way to his mill before he went back to the forest. He was too
proud to hire someone to help and as a result it took twice as much time, but he was content
with being alone and being away from home.
The lumberjack hiked back into the forest and heard rustling in the trees. He shrugged it off, thinking that ,since the sun was beginning to rise, it was just a chipmunk or squirrel. But it wasn’t. He thought it was alright to continue working, but it
wasn’t.
So he continued with his day and slowly more and more trees were being chopped down. He
continued hearing rustling and he continued to shrug it off. Until he couldn’t. It was getting louder
and louder, like a jet flying closer and closer. In the once silent forest there was nowhere to go to
get away from it. The lumberjack screamed and threw his axe to the ground. Then the rustling
stopped and the world seemed to be on pause. He realized it was silent and he stopped yelling.

The only sound was him panting in fear and exhaustion, but he picked himself up and went back to work. As he gazed up he saw the biggest tree he had ever seen and went to chop his last tree
for the day. The rustling slowly began to pick up again. He ignored it, determined to finish the job
he started. The rustling was loud again and he slowly felt the ground moving beneath him.

He moved to swing his axe and felt something tightening around his ankle. The roots were coiling around his ankle and he tried to pull himself free, but the roots began to pull him down. Before he knew it he was knee deep in the ground. His struggles were slowing and he leaned back on the dirt. The roots
covered him and part of his and he started screaming. The screaming stopped and all was silent.
The retired park ranger was the only one seemed to be aware of the reason that the forest was
protected. This was the story he told.