FIGHTING FIRE
The cry of fire at any time, is a dreadful one to hear. Whether it be in
the crowded city, or in the lonely country; whether on board a ship on the
heaving ocean, or an alarm given where factory workers are assembled; it
is fearsome, always.
And though Dave and his friends were out on the great, open prairies,
where the fire might have full sweep without ever coming near them, yet
the cry of the young cowboy roused all instantly.
For fire on the prairies means more than would at first seem, and when a
herd of cattle is in its path it is a warning that must be heeded at once
if one would save the stock.
If there is not actual danger from the fire itself, there is the risk of
its stampeding the cattle causing them to make a mad rush in which many
will be killed.
"Fire! Fire!" yelled Dave, but his first cry was enough. All the sleepers
jumped to their feet, and an echoing cry came from the cowboys who, on the
far side of the herd of cattle were riding around them to keep them from
straying.
As yet the animals had not taken the alarm. They could not smell the fire,
for it was too far away, and the dull, distant glow in the west, as yet,
meant nothing to them.
Nor had Dave's cries, and the answers thereto, given them any alarm. They
were accustomed to the shouting and yelling of the cowboys day and night,
and a little more or less of this noise did not startle them.
"Fire did you say, Dave?" cried Mr. Carson, as he shook his blanket from
him.
"Yes, Dad. Over there!"
Dave pointed to the glow. It was brighter now.
"Yes, it's a fire sure enough," was the ranchman's remark. "And traveling
fast, too."
"Wind's blowing her this way," remarked Pocus Pete, who had joined the
two. "Got t' get busy, boys." That last to the cowboys who were now up,
ready for business.
"A prairie fire!" cried Mr. Bellmore. "How are you going to fight it?"
"There are only two ways," said Pocus Pete. "By plowing, or by firing a
strip so wide that the main fire can't cross. We won't have time to plow.
We've got to fight fire with fire. Come on, boys."
"Oh, if we only had water!" murmured the engineer.
"It wouldn't do us much good," said the ranchman. "When that fire gets
here it will be a mile or more wide, and no hose would reach that far."
"That's right," chimed in Dave. He had not seen many prairie fires, but he
knew something of their danger. "I guess we'll have to back fire. Though
we could send for some plows, Dad."
"Yes, and I think I'll do that," the ranchman said. "The wind may shift,
and I'd feel better if I had some plowed furrows between that blaze and my
cattle."
Plowing and burning a strip are the two principal methods used in fighting
prairie fires. The dry grass of the plains, when it starts to burn, goes
like tinder. If it can be done in time, it is often effective to light
another fire in front of the one that is rolling forward. This consumes
the grass on which the flames feed, and when they reach that spot there is
nothing for them to burn. And if one stands on the area burned he will be
comparatively safe. Of course care must be taken not to get singed in the
back-fire.
Another method is to plow the ground, turning the dried grass under, and
leaving only the bare earth exposed. If a strip can be plowed wide enough
the fire can not leap over it.
"Lively now, boys!" called Mr. Carson. "Dave, you go over and help keep
the cattle from stampeding. Keep 'em milling." This means keeping the
animals going around and around in concentric circles, like a mill wheel.
When they can be made to do this they seldom break and run wild.
"Oh, Dad! Let me go to fight the fire!" pleaded the youth.
"All right. Only take care of yourself," was the caution.
"I'll go and help the boys mill the cattle," offered the water engineer.
"I believe I can do that."
"I think so, though it isn't going to be an easy task," said the ranchman.
The glare of the distant fire was now brighter, and a dull roar could be
heard. The cattle seemed to be aware of the danger, and it required hard
work on the part of the punchers to keep them from breaking. With shouts
and yells, with lashings from their shortened lariats and with shots from
their heavy revolvers the punchers did manage, however, to keep the
creatures in a compact mass.
Some cowboys, leaping into the chuck wagon, had started to drive to the
ranch buildings to bring back plows and plow horses. They might, if they
were lucky, return in time to help in keeping back the flames.
But the main fighting force, which Dave joined, rode straight toward the
onrushing flames in the desperate endeavor to fight fire with fire. They
would need to reach a spot, though, where the wind was blowing away from
them and the cattle, and toward the main blaze. Such places can often be
found in the rolling prairie, with its many glades and swales. Then, too,
the heat of the big fire often creates a vacuum, or back draft, causing
air to rush in toward the leaping flames, and making a wind blow toward
them that will carry with it the fire started to offset the menacing one.
"Here's a good spot!" exclaimed Pocus Pete at length. "Scatter along here,
boys, and set the grass ablaze."
Leaping from the backs of their ponies, the cowboys gave the reins into
the hands of one of their number to hold, for the horses could not be
trusted to stand alone with the fire coming ever nearer them. And without
their mounts the cowboys would be lost.
The spot where the party now found itself was down in a little depression,
or swale, and the wind was blowing away from them and toward the main
conflagration.
"Light, boys!" cried the foreman, as he struck a match and applied it to a
bunch of dried grass that made a rude torch. The others, including Dave,
did the same. Soon little spurts of flame in the grass showed where the
contending fire was started.
"Watch it now, boys!" Pocus Pete warned them. "If you see it starting to
creep back on you swat it out. Take your blankets, and see if you can't
find a water hole. Sozzle your blankets in that and swat the blaze if she
starts to run back on you."
A spring, or, rather a mud-hole that passed for one, was found, and in
this the blankets were wet. Then, as the contending fire burned onward,
some little tongues of flame crept back toward the spot where the cattle
had been left. These were "swatted" with the wet blankets as fast as seen.
"Well, she's going!" cried Dave, as he saw the fire they had set to fight
the other leaping onward as though to meet the blazing enemy. "That ought
to burn a safety strip."
"If th' wind doesn't turn," murmured Pocus Pete. "If th' wind doesn't
turn."
Anxiously now they waited, looking the while to see that no stray sparks
set a fire behind them. Dirty, dusty, choking and smoke-begrimed, the
cowboys fought the oncoming fire. Back of them their comrades worked hard
to hold in check the frightened cattle, while others were racing back with
the plowing outfit.
And off to the west glowed, roared and crackled the menacing prairie fire.