A RAIN OF FIRE
“Wet down the roofs of all the houses. Keep your heads or you’re
goners!” shouted Ham White.
The Overlanders had grabbed pails and filled them from the creek,
running with them to points where water soon would be needed. Stacy,
however, with his usual disinclination to work, took it upon himself
to boss the villagers, which he did very well. He appeared to be not
at all disturbed by the peril that menaced them.
The sky was now heavily overcast. To add to the gloom, daylight was
fading with the prospect of a night of terror for the people of
Silver Creek. The air grew hot and the pungent odor of smoke sent
many into paroxysms of coughing.
Hamilton White, cool and collected, was giving terse orders here and
there, and working with tireless energy. Hot puffs of wind drove
through the village streets, and that, he knew, was the vanguard of
what was to come.
Men were working under difficulties but to good purpose, for the
guide was directing the work of covering roofs with wet blankets,
which were wet down as fast as water could be brought. The smoke
grew more dense, more suffocating with the moments, and, somewhere
off to the south, a roar like that of an approaching storm was
plainly heard. Ham White, hearing, understood.
“Look! Oh, look!” cried Nora Wingate.
Great tongues of flame were seen leaping into the air high above the
tree-tops of the forest. Sparks and burning embers were now falling
in the village streets. Overhead the air itself seemed to be on
fire. Sheets of flame were curling and rolling through the forest
like breakers on a reef. At one moment the sky would be lighted up
brilliantly, and in the next deep, impenetrable darkness covered
all.
The terror of the villagers increased, and the Overland girls, on
their way to and fro for water, did what they could to calm the
women, but without great success. To add to the terror and the
peril, the village was now surrounded with fire on three sides. It
seemed to be growing more threatening with the moments, and the
clouds of soot became denser.
“Oh, how terrible!” cried Nora to Grace Harlowe.
“Yes, but one of the most tremendous spectacles I have ever seen,”
answered Grace, whose face, like all others about her, was so black
as to be almost unrecognizable.
In all the excitement, however, the two girls found time to observe
and marvel. They saw streamers of fire appear to die out, and then
charge forward toward the village at race-horse speed, threatening
to envelop and devour it.
The villagers started to run as their panic increased.
“Stay where you are! You are safer here!” Ham White shouted in
warning to all.
Houses were now catching fire, despite all efforts, and men worked
in a frenzy, for, if the fire once got a good start in the village,
they now knew that it would be destroyed. Some of the cooler heads
among the women lent much assistance to the Overlanders, but most of
them were too terrified to give any assistance at all.
“Some of these women surely will perish unless something is done at
once,” said Miss Briggs. “Suggest something, Grace, for the love of
heaven.”
“The creek! Help me herd them down on its bank,” answered Grace with
ready resource. “Nora! You and Emma must assist. Don’t hesitate.
Jump to it! There are men enough to carry water. Lives are of more
account than houses.”
The girls sprang to their task with energy. It was not an easy task
to which they had assigned themselves, and the first of the women
sent to the stream had to be forced there. There were choking
protests, but the Overland girls gave no heed, as there was no time
for argument, and seconds wasted might mean loss of lives.
“If your clothes catch fire, duck into the creek,” was the advice
shouted over and over again to the village women by Grace and her
companions. “Keep close to the shore or you may be swept off your
feet and carried downstream.”
The latter part of the Overlanders’ advice was not heeded in every
instance, and now and then one of the girls found it necessary to
haul ashore some woman who was in danger of being carried away by
the current.
As the heat in the village increased in intensity, shivering women
and children were standing in the creek’s cold waters, protecting
themselves from the burning air by covering their heads with wetted
articles of clothing.
Another peril found them there. Logs, broken, charred tree-limbs,
were rolling and tumbling down with the stream. Something hit
Elfreda, who was dragging a woman to safety, and pushed the girl
under. Struggle as she would, Miss Briggs was unable for some time
to extricate herself, though she did manage to keep her head above
water. Her skirts had caught on the branches of what proved to be
the bushy top of a tree, and she was swept away on the current.
After what seemed hours Elfreda succeeded in freeing herself, and
permitted herself to float while she rested, breathing hard from her
exertions.
The village of Silver Creek had disappeared in the distance. A
roaring sound came to Elfreda’s ears, which she soon discovered was
caused by the rushing current of a turbulent river.
“Mercy! What am I coming to?” cried the girl in her extremity.
Elfreda was frightened, but by no means panic-stricken. “Oh, this
surely is the end!” gasped the girl as she found herself suddenly
whirled into wild waters.
It was Roaring River into which Miss Briggs had been swept from the
creek, and now her last hope seemed gone, for the stream was wide
and full of floating logs and brush, and here and there dark objects
brushed past her. The girl drifted on and on, chilled and exhausted,
but still possessing a strength of will that kept her from letting
go, as many another would have done in her circumstances.
Of how long she had been in the water Elfreda had not the slightest
idea, but it seemed to have been hours, when suddenly she was halted
by the roots of a tree on the bank of the river, from which the dirt
had been washed away.
Grasping at the roots, Miss Briggs clung there resting. After a
little she dragged herself over the roots and finally reached soft
yielding earth.
“Thank God!” breathed Elfreda fervently, and stretching out she sank
into a deep sleep of exhaustion.
When Miss Briggs awakened from that sleep the sun was shining, but
there was a yellow haze in the air, and the odor of smoke was wafted
to her on the morning breeze. Birds were singing in the trees, and
the earth seemed at peace.
“J. Elfreda, you have done it this time!” she rebuked herself. “Why
did you ever go into that terrible water? Oh, what has become of the
others? This will never do. I must do something!” she cried, rousing
herself and standing up to look about her.
What to do, was the perplexing question. It was then that Elfreda
discovered a trail. Trees along the trail had been blazed, but the
blazes were not new. The path had been used frequently, she
observed, and led into the forest. For that the Overland girl was
thankful.
After brief reflection, Miss Briggs decided to follow the trail that
Fate had offered to her. It must lead somewhere, she reasoned. Had
Elfreda been more familiar with life in the forest she would have
known that this was either a trapper’s or a fisherman’s trail, but
to her all forest blazes looked alike, so she plodded on slowly,
keeping a sharp lookout for slashes on sides of the trees, and for
signs of human habitation.
When an hour had passed, and the trail still led on, the girl began
to lose heart. She sank down to rest and think, but as she peered
underneath the low-hanging branches of under-brush and saplings,
Elfreda made a discovery that set her pulses beating. There, less
than fifty yards ahead of her, she saw a shack, and about it was a
hedge of evergreens that undoubtedly had been placed there by human
hands.
“Saved!” cried Elfreda, springing to her feet, forgetful of the
aches and pains of a few moments before.
The Overland girl caught her breath suddenly, and a rush of color
leaped to her cheeks, for Elfreda Briggs had made another discovery,
and with it came the realization that a most amazing thing had
occurred.
Uttering a shrill little cry, Elfreda started forward at a run.