THE PRAIRIE FIRE
Frank’s words gave his chum a new thrill.
Although he had been in the Southwest nearly a year now, Bob had
never seen a prairie fire. Of course he had heard many stories
connected with such events, as some of the adventurous cowboys
stirred up their memories. And, like all greenhorns, Bob had
naturally conceived a great respect, amounting almost to awe, for a
conflagration on the boundless plain.
He noted how quickly the fire seemed to spread. It ran along almost
like magic, and what looked like an insignificant blaze one minute,
in another was a roaring bank of flame, driven forward by the
whipping wind.
Mr. Riley had pulled in his horse almost immediately.
“We couldn’t get there in time to cross before it would be hot enough
to scorch our hair off, Frank!” he exclaimed.
Bob expected that the only thing left for them to do would be to
turn back over the plains and head once more for the shelter of the
mountains from which they had so recently come. And with tired
horses to depend on, the chances of their being speedily overtaken by
that bounding wall of fire were pretty strong.
But Frank knew something about these things. He had listened to many
tales of men who had been caught in such a trap; and how they had
managed to escape destruction by some clever move.
“Notice the wind, that it’s a little off to one side!” he called out.
“Yes, that’s so, Frank,” replied Mr. Riley, knowing full well that
the prairie boy must have some plan in view when he said this, and
quite ready to join in with him in following that plan out.
“Our only chance lies in trying to outride the fire to the west!”
cried Frank. “It’s eating that way slowly, and perhaps we can make
it, so as to pass around that end. Come along, and make the horses do
their prettiest now!”
With that they were off on the jump. Little need to dig their heels
into the heaving sides of the animals. The sight of the fire,
increasing in size constantly, as the wind carried the flames into
new territory, was enough to excite the flagging energies of the
three horses; and they rushed along at a pace that was little short
of remarkable, considering their tired condition.
Bob would not let Domino fall behind, even had the black failed to
show sufficient energy on his own account. It seemed to the Kentucky
lad that once he became separated from his friends he must be
overwhelmed in that dreadful fire.
Of course, since they were now galloping almost along the front
of the blaze, it was constantly drawing closer to them. Bob could
feel the increasing heat. It struck upon his face, and was entirely
different from the sensation he had experienced because of the warmth
of the day. This was dry, scorching. He could easily imagine what a
fierce temperature there must be in the midst of that sizzling, dead
grass.
Being entirely unaccustomed to judging anything of this nature, poor
Bob conceived the idea that they would not be able to get beyond the
outer edge of the long line of fire before it swept down upon them.
“Can we make it, Frank?” he shouted; for there was by this time quite
a roaring sound in the air; as well as stifling smoke that made the
eyes smart and breathing difficult.
“Sure we will, Bob; make up your mind to that; but keep digging at
your horse for all you’re worth!” Frank answered, trying to speak
cheerily; for he realized just how fearful the spectacle must appear
in the eyes of a tenderfoot who had never witnessed anything like it
before.
Possibly Frank himself might not have been quite as confident as he
pretended. He must surely know how any delay, even of seconds, was
likely to play havoc with the best laid plans. And one of a dozen
things might happen, if bad luck followed them.
Time was measured in moments just then. Bob, in fact, counted it by
heart beats; for something seemed to be pounding against his ribs at
a furious rate, which he supposed must be his excited heart.
He noted that they were drawing near the end of the fire line; but at
the same time the fact of the conflagration being close to them was
made evident by the increased heat.
“Faster yet!” called Frank, bringing down his hand on the flank of
Buckskin, in true cowboy manner; and the pony responded gallantly to
this urgent demand.
Could Domino rise to the occasion, and make a last spurt? Bob
imitated the example of the others, and slapped the flank of his
black, at the same time giving the most tremendous yell of which he
was capable.
He knew at once that the ruse had succeeded, for Domino seemed fairly
to fly over the yielding turf.
If only no unfortunate accident befell them, the goal was bound to be
reached. And once around to the rear of the fire, the danger would
be past.
So Bob’s spirits rose again, for he was naturally of a buoyant
nature. Besides, at the extreme end of the fire line the flames did
not seem to be quite so fierce as in the middle. They had to eat up
against the breeze, after a fashion.
One last spurt, and they passed the barrier, although compelled to
turn their faces the other way on account of the heat.
Bob expected his comrades to give vent to their satisfaction in loud
yells. To his surprise they did nothing of the sort. More than that,
Frank immediately called out to him, saying:
“Don’t whoop it up, Bob! To do that would only let ’em know we’d
managed to flank the blaze, and were still after them. As it is,
they’ll believe we’re either caught in the fire, or running before it
to beat the band!”
Then Bob saw why silence was the best policy, just then. And more
than ever he admired the ready way in which his chum was able to
grasp all parts of the game.
The horses were breathing hard, after their recent strain. Bob patted
Domino on his wet neck with the true affection a lover of horses
feels for the animal that has successfully borne him through a race.
“Good old Domino!” he said, again and again. “No fellow ever had a
braver mount! And I know I’ll never meet with your equal in a life
time. Bully boy! there never yet was a time when I called on you for
an extra spurt but what you had it tied up and waiting. Whew! that
was a close shave, though! I reckon my eyebrows must have been singed
some!”
Frank and Mr. Riley had again taken an observation. Little use to
look up to the dome overhead to get their course, because the clouds
completely covered the sky. But the direction of the wind told them
what they wanted to know; so that once again the three horses were
headed into the Southwest.
“Say, Frank, I was thinking that perhaps they might be able to see us
even when we couldn’t get a glimpse of them,” called out Bob, who was
close in the rear.
“That’s true for you, Bob,” answered the other; “because the fire
makes a bright background. But we have to take those chances. Once
let us get sight of them, and we’ll bring this thing to an end soon
enough.”
“Wonder what’s next?” Bob was saying to himself.
The fact was, he had experienced so many strange things during the
last three months, that he was beginning to believe the list must be
almost inexhaustible.
No wonder, then, that Bob found himself wondering what he would run
across next. It began to seem as if almost anything could happen in
this strange country, so different from that surrounding his Kentucky
home.
They kept on for another hour.
The fire had passed off far to the eastward. Possibly it would only
be halted when it reached the bank of the river which lay in that
direction.
By this time the horses were showing unmistakable signs of fatigue,
such as none of the three riders could ignore.
“We must pull up soon, Frank,” Bob remarked, when he found how
reluctantly his mount responded to his further appeals. “Poor Domino
is about all in, and I’m not going to break him for all the gold
thieves in Arizona.”
“That’s just what Mr. Riley and myself were saying, Bob,” replied the
other, as he checked his own horse, and brought his lagging lope down
into first a canter, and then a plain walk. “We happen to be close to
the foothills right now, and by letting the horses rest up a bit we
can reach them inside of half an hour or so.”
“But, Frank, what do we want to get to the hills for; you don’t
expect a cloudburst out here on the open; and we could lie down here
as well as most any place?” the Kentucky boy remarked.
“It’s just this way,” continued Frank, now alongside his chum, with
all the horses walking; “we think those fellows must be somewhere
in these hills. They were heading straight for them all the time.
Perhaps now they’ve even got a shanty or a camp here. Perhaps there
may be another bunch of the same kind waiting for ’em. Mr. Riley
agrees with me that since we’ve come this far we ought to go on and
find out. Understand, Bob?”
“Yes, and let me say that I’m with you every time,” returned the
other. “You know how set in my ways I am, Frank; and that once I
start out to do a thing, how unhappy I always seem unless I get
there. So count on me to keep up the good work, if it takes a week.
We must get back that stolen treasure, one way or another.”
“And we will, Bob, just put that in your pipe and smoke it,” replied
the other, confidently.
“There’s the foothills right ahead of us now!” said Mr. Riley, who
had been riding a little in the van, but where he could hear all that
was said.
“And we’ll none of us be sorry when this long ride is over,” remarked
Frank.