The heart of the man was like a weight in his bosom. With so many hundred acres of forest on fire, and that, too, between the abandoned camp and The Corners and Sunrise Cove, how would Amanda Parlow and Carolyn May know where to go?
In what direction would they run? There was no stream of any size near this camp. Water had been obtained from easily driven wells. Mr. Stagg could not imagine in that first few minutes of alarm how the fugitives could have got away from the camp.
Smoke hung in a heavy cloud over the clearing. The smell of burning wood was very strong.
To go was, perhaps, the wisest thing Amanda and her charges could have done, for once the fire got into this opening the place would soon become a raging furnace.
The great heaps of sawdust and rubbish, as dry as tinder, offered fuel for the flames unsurpassed elsewhere in the forest. This clearing, three or four acres in extent, would be the hottest part of the fire, if once the wind rose and blew the conflagration in 276 its direction. Mr. Stagg climbed to the roof of the cabin to look over the open space. He shouted at the top of his voice. But he neither saw nor heard anything. His voice came back in a flat echo from the forest wall across the clearing—that was all.
There was no way of trailing the fugitives—he knew that well enough. Of course, there were plenty of cartwheel tracks; but they told nothing of interest to the troubled hardware dealer.
He slid down from the roof and went again into the cabin. Certainly the place must have been deserted in haste. There was Carolyn May’s coat. The man caught it up and stared around, as though expecting the child to be within sight.
The old woman’s clothing was scattered about, too. It did not look as though anything had been removed from the hut. Coming out, he found another article on the threshold—one of Amanda’s gloves.
Joseph Stagg picked it up eagerly and stood for a moment or two holding it in his hand as he gazed from the doorway upon the empty prospect. Then he lifted the crumpled glove to his lips.
“Oh, God, spare her!” he burst forth. “Spare them both!”
Then he kissed the glove again and hid it away in the inner pocket of his vest.
The hardware dealer tried to think of just what the fugitives might have done when they escaped from the cabin. Surely, they would not start for 277 The Corners by the main road—that would take them directly towards the fire. Joseph Stagg had too good an opinion of Amanda Parlow’s common sense to believe that.
And what would they do with the sick woman—how take her with them? She was crippled and could travel neither far nor fast.
This disappearance suggested to the man’s mind one certain fact: Something had already happened to the fugitives; some accident had befallen them.
The thought almost overpowered him. He was chilled to the heart. Despair made him helpless for the moment. He could think of nothing further to do. He seemed to have come to an impassable barrier.
The sight of poor Cherry, standing with heaving sides and hanging head, awoke him. He started into action once more and hurried to the horse. Taking him out of the harness, he rubbed him down with a coarse sack. Then he found a pail at the cabin and brought the animal a drink. Once more he put him back into the shafts and prepared to move on.
If it were true that Amanda would not run towards the fire, then she more than likely had taken the opposite direction on leaving the cabin. Therefore, Joseph Stagg went that way—setting off down the tote road, leading Cherry by his bridle.
Suddenly he remembered calling Prince the day Carolyn May had been lost on the ice. He raised his voice in a mighty shout for the dog now. 278
“Prince! Princey, old boy! where are you?”
Again and again he called, but there was no reply. The smoke was more stifling and the heat more intense every minute. As he reached the far edge of the clearing he looked back to see a huge tree break into flame on the opposite side of the open space.
The camp would soon be a furnace of flame!
Joseph Stagg was not fearful for himself. He knew a dozen paths out of this part of the forest. But he could not leave without finding the fugitives or learning the way of their departure.
The forest here was like a jungle on both sides of the tote road. Once let the fire get into it, it would burn with the intense heat of a blast furnace. Mr. Stagg realised that he must get out quickly if he would save himself and the horse.
He had just stepped into the buckboard again, when there was an excited scrambling in the underbrush, and a welcoming bark was given.
“Prince! Good boy!” the man shouted. “Where are they?”
The excited dog flew at him, leaping on the buckboard so as to reach him. The mongrel was delighted, and showed it as plainly as a dumb brute could.
But he was anxious, too. He leaped back to the ground, ran a little ahead, and then looked back to see if the man was following. The hardware dealer shouted to him again:
“Go ahead, Princey! We’re coming!” 279
He picked up the reins and Cherry started. The dog, barking his satisfaction, ran on ahead and struck into a side path which led down a glade. Joseph Stagg knew immediately where this path led to. There was a spring and a small morass in the bottom of the hollow.
“Bless me!” he thought, “once this fire gets to going, the heat will lick up that spring in a mouthful.”
He forced Cherry into the path. It was somewhat difficult to push through with the buckboard. Prince still barked, running ahead.
“Go on! Good dog!” cried Mr. Stagg. “Lead the way to Hannah’s Car’lyn!”
He heard the little girl screaming: “Oh, Uncle Joe! Oh, Uncle Joe! Here we are!”
Cherry rattled the buckboard down to the bottom of the hollow and stopped. There was some smoke here, but not much. The man leaped to the ground when he saw a figure rise up from the foot of a tree by the spring—a figure in brown.
“Joseph! Thank God!” murmured Amanda.
The hardware dealer strode to her. She had put out both her hands to him, and he saw that they were trembling, and that tears filled her great brown eyes.
“Oh, Joe!” she said, “I feared you would come too late!”
“But I’m here, Mandy, and I’m not too late!” he cried; and, somehow—neither of them could, perhaps, have explained just how—his arms went 280 around her and her hands rested on his shoulders, while she looked earnestly into his face.
“Oh, Joe! Joe!” It was like a surrendering sob.
“It’s not too late, is it, Mandy? Say it isn’t too late!” he pleaded.
“No, it’s not too late,” she whispered. “If—if we’re not too old.”
“Old!” almost shouted Joseph Stagg. “I don’t remember of ever feeling so young as I do right now!” and suddenly he stooped and kissed her. “Bless me! what fools we’ve been all this time!”
“Oh, Uncle Joe! Oh, Miss Amanda!” cried Carolyn May, standing before them, and pointing with a rather grimy index finger. “You aren’t mad at each other any more, are you? Oh, I am so glad! so glad!” and her face showed her pleasure.
But the situation was too difficult to allow of much but practical thoughts.
“Where’s the old woman?” asked Joseph Stagg quickly.
“Her husband came with a horse and buggy late last night and took her over to the new camp,” was the reply. “Of course, there was not room for Carolyn May and me—and we did not wish to go, anyway.
“Judy is much better, poor soul, and I was glad to be relieved of her care. Mr. Mason warned me there was a big fire over the mountain, but I had no idea it would come this way.”
“You aren’t mad at each other any more, are you?”
“No. And nobody else,” grumbled Mr. Stagg. “But it has come—and it’s moving mighty quick now. How came you down here, Mandy—you and Hannah’s Car’lyn?”
“We were really badly frightened, Joe,” she replied, smiling up at him. “I’m afraid I became panic-stricken when I saw a tall tree on fire not far from the camp, and we ran down here where there was water, leaving everything at the cabin.”
“But there isn’t water enough,” declared the man fretfully. “That’s the trouble with this place. We can’t stay here.”
“You know best, Joe,” said Amanda Parlow, with a loving woman’s logic.
“What you’ve left at the cabin will have to stay there,” he said. “We can’t go back. I tell you, the fire was coming into the camp when I left.”
“Oh, Joe, we must hurry, then!” she murmured simply.
“We aren’t going to be burned up now, when Uncle Joe is here, Miss Mandy,” Carolyn May declared with confidence. “See how nice he and Prince found us? Why, they are reg’lar heroes, aren’t they?”
“They are, indeed, child,” agreed the woman. She turned to Joseph Stagg, happiness shining in her eyes, and looking prettier than ever before in her life, he thought.
The hollow was rapidly becoming filled with smoke. The man did not understand this, but it 282 foreboded trouble. He turned Cherry and the buckboard around, and then he helped Amanda into the seat.
“Up you go, too, Car’lyn May,” he said, lifting the little girl into the rear of the buckboard. “Hang on, there! Don’t dare fall off!”
“Oh, I’ll be all right, Uncle Joe,” she declared, laughing gaily. Then she said to Prince. “Don’t run off, Princey. You mustn’t get lost from us now, for the fire is coming.”
Joseph Stagg felt very serious as he seated himself by Amanda’s side and picked up the reins. The horse quickly retraced his steps up the hill to the tote road. As they came out into this broader path they saw the smoke pouring through it in a choking cloud. The road was like a tunnel through the thick forest, and the breeze, which was rising, drove the smoke on. Behind, there was a subdued murmur and crackling.
“Oh, Joe,” gasped Amanda, “it’s coming!”
“It surely is,” agreed the hardware merchant. “We’re in a hot corner, my girl. But trust to me——”
“Oh, I do, Joe!” she exclaimed, squeezing his arm. “I am sure you know what is best to do.”
“I’ll try to prove that so,” he said with a subdued chuckle.
“Oh, Uncle Joe!” cried Carolyn May suddenly, “can’t we get out of this awful smoke? It—it chokes me!” 283
“Wait,” whispered Amanda to the man. “I’ll lift her over the back of the seat. I think she had better be in my lap.”
“P’r’aps that’s so,” he agreed, and he held in the nervous Cherry for a moment till the change was accomplished.
Poor little Carolyn May’s eyes had begun to water, and she complained of a pain in her chest from swallowing the smoke.
“I—I thought this was going to be an—an awfully exciting adventure; but I don’t like it a bit now!” the little girl sobbed.
Miss Amanda held her close, and Uncle Joe drove on as rapidly as possible. The way was rough and they were jolted a good deal. Prince trotted on behind them, his tongue out, and occasionally coughing; but he was better off than his human friends, for he was nearer the ground, where the smoke was not so heavy.
There was just wind enough, and coming from the right direction, to drive the smoke through the tunnel of the wagon road. The fire itself was not yet near. Joseph Stagg, nevertheless, was seriously troubled by the situation.
Following the direction this road led, they would be going farther and farther from home. And, if the wind increased, it was very doubtful if they could keep ahead of the fire for long.
However, he did not display his knowledge of these troublesome facts to his companions. As for 284 Amanda Parlow, she hugged the little girl tightly and kept up a show of cheerful spirits.
Prince whined and yapped pleadingly, and the man stopped for a moment to let the dog leap to the rear of the buckboard, where he crouched, panting.
It would not be wise for them to halt often, nor for long. The wind, although steady, was rising. The roaring of the fire grew louder and louder in their ears.
Suddenly Joseph Stagg dragged Cherry’s head around. The horse snorted and hesitated, for the smoke was blinding him.
“I pretty near missed these forks!” exclaimed the hardware merchant. “This left road takes us towards the lake.”
“Oh, Joe, can we reach it?” whispered Amanda.
“We’ve got to!” he returned grimly. “It’s three miles, if it’s an inch, but Cherry has got to make it.”
They were relieved after a minute or two in this new road. The smoke had not so completely filled it. But it was a rougher way, and the buckboard bounced until Carolyn May cried out in fear and the mongrel whined and sprawled all over the rear platform.
“You want to hang on, dog, with teeth and toenails,” said Joseph Stagg grimly. “We can’t stop for you if you fall off.”
Prince seemed to know that, for never did animal 285 cling more faithfully to an uneasy situation. Once or twice he came near to being pitched clear of the wagon body.
They drove over a little hillock that raised them higher than the tote road had done. Amanda clutched Mr. Stagg’s arm again and uttered a half-stifled “Oh!”
He shot a glance to the left. A mass of flame broke out in the wood not far off this trail—the top of a great tree was on fire.
“The wind is carrying brands this way,” muttered the man. “A dozen new fires will be started. Well, gid-ap, Cherry!” and he seized the whip again.
The horse was well spent now, but he was plucky. He tried to increase his stride. A hot breath of wind came rushing through the forest, bending the branches and shaking the leafy foliage. The wind seemed fairly to scorch the fugitives.
Carolyn May had hidden her face on Miss Amanda’s shoulder and was sobbing quietly. Both of her human companions were painfully aware that breathing the smoke-filled air was hurting them.
Mr. Stagg hurried the labouring horse on as rapidly as he dared. Cherry coughed every few steps; the man did not want to bring the horse to his knees. Their very lives depended on the animal.
The roaring of the fire increased. Through the more open woods which bordered this path they saw the smoke advancing in a thicker wall—and one as high as the tree tops. Through the curtain of this 286 smoke cloud red tongues of flame leaped forward to lick up hungrily patches of underbrush or to fasten on certain trees.
“You’ve got to make it, old boy,” muttered Joseph Stagg, and he lashed the horse again.
The spirited Cherry leaped forward, both the woman and the child screaming.
“Hang on,” advised Mr. Stagg. “The road makes a turn just ahead, and that’s mighty lucky for us.”
For he knew that the fire was roaring down toward them, the wind having risen to a gale. The crash of falling trees and the snapping of the fire was like the sound from a battlefront. The noise was almost deafening.
“Is it far? Is it far?” gasped Amanda in his ear.
“Too far for comfort. But keep your heart up.”
As the man spoke, a blazing brand swung through the air and came down, right on Amanda’s shoulders. Carolyn May shrieked. Joseph Stagg brushed off the burning stick.
Cherry mounted another small ridge and then they clattered down into a little hollow where there was a slough beside the road. The water was green and stagnant, but it was water.
The man pulled in the hard-pressed horse and leaped down, passing the reins to Amanda. He whipped off his coat and dipped it in the mudhole. He drew it out dripping with water and slime. 287
“Look out, here! Have to shut your eyes!” he warned his two companions on the seat of the buckboard, and threw the saturated coat over Miss Amanda’s head. The dripping garment sheltered Carolyn May as well.
“Now, good horse!” he yelled to Cherry, leaping back to the seat. “Gid-ap!”
The horse started up the slope. Another swirling brand came down upon them. Joseph Stagg fought it off with his bare hand. His shirt sleeve caught fire and he was painfully burned on the forearm before he could smother the blaze.
It was growing so hot now that the leaves on the trees curled and were blasted before the flames actually reached them. Behind the fleeing buckboard the conflagration was on both sides of the narrow path. They were barely keeping ahead of the enemy.
Another flaming brand fell, landing on Cherry’s back. The horse squealed and leaped forward at a pace which Mr. Stagg could not control. Maddened by the burn, Cherry had taken the bit in his teeth and was running away.
The man threw down the reins. He could do nothing towards retarding the frightened horse’s pace. Indeed, he did not want to stop him.
His left arm he flung around Miss Amanda and the child, and with his right hand clung to the rocking seat of the careening buckboard.
The wet steaming coat saved the woman and the child from injury. More than one brand settled on 288 it, and the garment only smoked. But Joseph Stagg was painfully burned.
On and on dashed the maddened horse. It was a mercy, indeed, that the buckboard was not overturned.
Sparks rose from burning brush clumps and flew over them in a shower. Prince yelped and whined pitifully, but, like Mr. Stagg, he hung on.
The burning and smouldering brands showered upon them. Bushes broke out into flame in advance, and on either side of the path. It was as though the combustion was spontaneous.
With a roaring like the charge of a field of artillery, a great mass of flame flew high over their heads. The tall trees were on fire on all sides. They were in the heart of the conflagration!
Joseph Stagg had lost all count of time. The forest road might still extend ahead of them for a mile, for all he knew.
But suddenly they broke cover, Cherry still galloping wildly, and plunged down an open ravine to the edge of a lake of sparkling water.
“Bless me! The lake! the lake!” hoarsely shouted the man.
The walls of the ravine sheltered them from smoke and fire for a moment, but the brands still fell. Cherry had halted on the edge of the lake, but Joseph Stagg urged him on into the water, flank deep. The shore was narrow and afforded little space for refuge. He lifted Amanda and the child 289 bodily from the seat and dropped them into the water.
“We’re safe now,” he said hoarsely, jumping in himself, and holding Carolyn May and Amanda. “We’ve got water enough here, thanks be! Hang on to me, Mandy. I’m not going to let you get away—no more, never!”
And by the way in which the woman clung to his arm it was evident that she did not propose to lose him.
They looked back at the roaring wall of flame. The forest was a seething furnace. Smoke drifted out over the lake in a heavy cloud. Dead embers showered about them. Prince rolled and burrowed in the damp sand at the edge of the water. Cherry filled his throat with a long, cool, satisfying draught.
“My, Uncle Joe! you are just the bravest man!” declared Carolyn May, finding her voice. “Isn’t he, Miss Mandy? And, see, his arm is all burned. Dear me, we must get home to Aunty Rose and let her do it up for him.”