The days slipped pleasantly by, and the boys had nearly lost all traces
of their unpleasant encounter. They had been fishing again at the mill,
and had a long talk with Dusty Bob, who had promised to make them some
namesakes, namely "bobs" for eel-catching in the dam, and they were to
be ready on the Wednesday evening following. This was Tuesday, and
after a hot day, during which they had been having fine sport in the
field--where the men were getting in a lateish crop of hay-making hay
huts, and then when the abode was tenanted, knocking it down upon the
unfortunate inhabitant, who by this means was half smothered, which
Harry said constituted the best part of the fun--a kind of fun that Fred
could not see, for the view he took of the matter was like that of the
pelted frogs in the fable, and after being covered up with a mass of
hay, and having had Harry and Philip sitting on the top of that, he had
crawled out at last very hot, stuffy, bitty, and uncomfortable, and
could not be persuaded to enter the hay hut again.
The boys had worked hard in the field; turning the hay, making it into
cocks, tossing them out, and then helping to load the waggon, and taking
the high-piled load to the stack-yard--the part the boys managed in
taking the load being that of riding on the top amidst the sweet-scented
new hay, and having to lie flat down as the mass passed beneath the tall
gateway and under the granary into the yard. On the way back, Harry
rode the leading horse, making stirrups of the traces, while his legs
stuck out at a very obtuse angle one from the other, in consequence of
the round back of the fat cart-horse.
Harry was the most venturesome of the three boys in all things, and yet,
in spite of his daring, he met with fewer mishaps than the others;
however, on this particular day, he did have the pleasure of being run
away with, for, after taking a load to the stack, the front horse was
always unhooked from the traces, and allowed to follow the waggon
behind. Now upon this occasion, after re-entering the field, Ball, the
big horse, must have been tickled by a fly, or else have had the idea
that, now a gentleman was on his back, instead of being a cart-horse he
was a hunter. However, let the horse's idea have been what it might, he
whisked his tail, kicked up his heels, tossed his head, and snorted; and
then went off in a regular elephant gallop down the field, with all the
men shouting "Stop him--stop him," but nobody trying to do so in the
least. As for Harry, he stuck his knees into the horse as well as he
could, and dragged at the rein, but he might just as well have pulled at
a post for all the impression he made. He felt rather frightened, but
he stuck tightly to his great steed, steadying himself by taking fast
hold of the horse's great collar with one hand, all the while dragging
with the other at the rein.
Away went the great brute full gallop, scattering the hay in all
directions, and charging right down at the hedge at the bottom of the
field.
"He'll stop there," shouted the men in pursuit, to one another.
But not a bit of it, for the horse took the hedge in a flying leap, and
then went galloping on through the corn-field on the other side, and
then he came to a stand-still right in the middle of the waving grain,
and began to nibble off the green sweet ears.
But where was Harry? Why, sitting on the bank, with his legs swinging
in the ditch by the side of the hedge over which the horse made such a
splendid leap. But though the horse could make splendid leaps, Harry
could not, for he was not used to hunting, and the first sensation he
felt after flying through the air over the hedge, was that of a rude
bump upon the earth, in the midst of a bed of stinging-nettles. He got
up, shook himself, and felt his legs and arms to see if anything was
broken, and then, finding that such was not the case, he began rubbing
his back and then applying dock leaves to his stung hands.
There must have been a good deal of elasticity in Harry's bones, for,
somehow or other, in cases where other persons would have had theirs
broken, Harry's seemed only to have bent and returned to their normal
position. So by the time the men came up to the hedge, Harry was
sitting very unconcernedly with his legs swinging in the ditch, rubbing
in the dock juice upon the stung places with all his might.
"Here he bes," said a voice, and the great brown face of one of the
carters peered over the hedge. "Art t'e hurt, Maester Harry?"
"No: not I," said Harry, getting up, "Jump over and catch that old
wretch. What made him run away with me?"
But the carter could not answer that question, so he tried to catch the
horse; but the first step was to get over the hedge, which he could not
manage so easily as the horse. He tried in two or three places, but it
was of no use, for the live fence was of the thorniest and thickest, so
he had to go round about a quarter of a mile to the gate, and then set
to to catch the truant. But this too was easier said than done, for the
horse found himself in very pleasant quarters, and refused to leave
them; there was the sweetest of pasture all round him in the shape of
juicy, milky, corn-ears; the long green stems would have made a pleasant
resting-place, and then there were the larks carolling above him, and
the white-throats and yellow-hammers twittering on all sides; while the
sun shone warmly enough to make work tedious and repose delightful; so
that altogether the horse did not feel disposed to return to his hard
bondage of drawing the hay waggon, so heavily laden that he had to put
out all his strength to draw it over the soil yielding surface of the
field; and he showed this as plainly as he could by refusing to "come
then." He wouldn't "come then" a bit, but turned his tail to all the
blandishments offered to his notice. It was of no use to pretend that
there was corn in your hand, for he would not believe it, and would not
even smell to see. The carter might run as fast as he liked, but this
did not answer, for it trampled the corn down, and besides, the horse
had four legs to the carter's two, and easily beat him at running, even
when he was dodged up into a corner of the field, for he dashed along in
the ditch and so escaped again into the centre.
"Whoa, then, whoa-oa-oa," said the carter, quite out of breath with his
efforts. But the horse wouldn't "whoa" any more than he would "come
then," but trotted off for a short distance, and then very coolly
commenced grazing upon the green corn-ears. At last the carter thought
of what he should have thought of at first, namely, leaving the gate
open, and trying to drive the horse through. This he accomplished by
means of a little manoeuvring, and the truant returned to the farm-yard,
where he was easily captured, and where he obtained a severe flogging
for his vagaries.
That same night the boys lay in bed talking through the open doorway
about what they would do in the morning, when a light flashed upon the
window-blind.
"How it lightens!" said Fred. "There, again, did you see that?"
His cousins had seen what he alluded to, and said so; but the light
appeared upon their blind again, and this time lasted so long, that they
got out of bed to look, when, to their horror, they could see flames
running up the side of a great wheat-stack in the farm-yard, and the
blaze every moment growing larger. They ran to the stairs and shouted
the alarm to Mr Inglis, who saw by the glare that shone through the
hall window what was the matter, and hurried out.
The boys scrambled on their clothes as quickly as possible, and upon
going out, found Mrs Inglis and all the maids upon the lawn, watching
the progress of the flames, which spread with alarming rapidity.
Mr Inglis's farm-yard was situated fully a hundred yards from the
house, so that there was no danger upon that side, and, besides, the
wind was very still, which prevented the flames spreading so fast as
they would have done. But, unfortunately, the stacks and farm-buildings
were very close together, so that it seemed very probable that the whole
of the contents of the yard would fall a prey to the flames.
When the boys reached the yard, they found everything in confusion--
people running up from the villages; then shouting, and ordering, and
contradicting, all in a breath, and everybody in a state of the greatest
excitement. The only cool person about the place seemed to be Mr
Inglis, who had already despatched a mounted messenger to the town for
the engine, and was now forming a line of men from the pond to the stack
nearest the fire, over which, by means of ladders, a great corn sheet
was laid, and this they tried to keep wet. The pails were passed
quickly along, and returned empty by another row of men; but the burning
stack roared and crackled, and the sparks flew up in myriads, while in
the glare of light the martins and swallows could be seen flitting
backwards and forwards over the flames, till one by one the poor things
were suffocated, and dropped into the burning mass. An old white owl,
too, showed itself, flapping its wings round the burning stack and
hooting dismally, but it soon after flew off and was lost in the dark
night.
The men worked hard at keeping the sheet wet, but it was of no avail,
for all at once a great portion of the burning stack tell down against
the one they were trying to save, and in a few minutes the great sheet
and the whole of the side of the stack beneath it were in a blaze.
Mr Inglis now directed his attention to the stables at the rear,
towards which the flames were travelling with inconceivable velocity,
the ground being nearly covered with loose straw, across which the
flames ran like wildfire. Upon running to the stable-door he found it
locked, and in the crowd and confusion the horse-keeper could not be
found. There was not a moment to lose, for the roof was already on
fire, so a fir pole was fetched, and used battering-ram fashion, so that
the big door by a few strokes was sent off its hinges. Mr Inglis then
rushed in and found the place full of smoke, and the poor horses
trembling with fear. There were eight in the stable, and to cut their
halters was but the work of a minute. Some of them dashed out of the
place as soon as released, as though mad with fear; while others stood
with dripping sides, snorting and shuddering, and had literally to be
dragged out.
All this while the roof was blazing away rapidly, and the hay in the
loft served to make it burn more fiercely. Seven horses had been saved,
but the eighth stubbornly refused to move, in spite of every effort; and
at last Mr Inglis and the men with him were compelled to retreat to
avoid suffocation.
Upon being a little restored, one of the men would have made another
attempt, but he was stopped by Mr Inglis, who said that it would be a
risk of human life that he would not allow. Just then the roof fell in
with a crash, and a fearful shriek burst from the poor animal that met
with so horrible a death, while the men shuddered as they looked at one
another, and thought of their narrow escape.
The farm-yard now presented a dreadful scene of confusion, for poultry,
pigs, and calves were running about in all directions, adding their
cries to the general clamour; the pigeons flew round the place and from
building to building; and everything seemed disposed to fly or run in
any but the direction required of it; the men, too, appeared nearly as
bad, running hither and thither without aim or purpose, and getting into
danger when there was not the slightest necessity.
And now the flames roared and crackled terribly, and seemed to have
gained the entire mastery. The moon had not risen, so that the dark
night was lit up by the red glare, and the tall elm and beech-trees
turned of a golden green as they reflected the bright light. The flames
leaped from stack to stack, and from shed to shed, licking everything
up, and seeming to laugh at the efforts which were made to stay their
progress. The great barn full of corn was in a blaze, and the fear
seemed to be that the farm-house where Mr Inglis's bailiff lived would
be the next prey of the flames. The pig-sties were all burnt down, and
two unfortunate fat pigs had perished, squealing dismally; but the rest
of the live stock had been saved, as also most of the farming
implements: drills, ploughs, harrows, harness, carts, waggons, etc, etc,
had been all dragged out of the way; but, for all that, the loss of
valuable stock was terrible--unthreshed ricks of barley, oats, and
wheat; hay and straw, a barn filled with sacks of grain newly threshed,
and all being devoured by the flames in one short hour and a half.
The great barn was blazing furiously, and the tired men busily engaged
wetting the thatch upon the gable end of the farm-house, upon which
great flakes of fire kept falling; while others were hard at work
dragging the furniture out of the doors and windows, and bearing it to a
place of safety, when there was heard a distant "hurray," and then came
the pattering sound of galloping horses, and the rattle of wheels. The
cheering was taken up by those near at hand, and in the midst of the
shouting, the dark red body of the engine from Marshford dashed up to
the yard. In a twinkling, the horses were detached by the men in dark
uniform who had leaped off the engine, the glare all the while reflected
from their brass-bound helmets--for Marshford boasted a volunteer fire
brigade--and then the wheels spun round again as the engine was run down
to the pond, the suction pipe screwed on, and like magic, so quickly was
it done, length after length of hose joined together, till a sufficiency
was obtained to reach easily the burning barn; and then the captain with
the burnished copper branch screwed it to the hose, men seized the
handles on each side of the engine, and at the given word--"Thud--thud;
thud--thud; thud--thud," went the powerful pumps. "Squish--squitter--
squish--squish--ciss--ciss--hiss-s-s-s-s-s," went a stream of water
swift as an arrow from a bow right on to the gable of the farm-house,
and deluging the thatch in a moment, from the broad red chimney-stack
down to the eaves, and extinguishing every spark and flake that hung to
it. How necessary this had become could be seen from the steam which
arose from the thatch, which must have been in flames in a few minutes,
while the brickwork actually hissed, it had grown so heated.
An occasional dash from the branch soon stayed all alarm as to the
farm-house being in danger, and the captain, directing his stream of
water against the burning barn, ordered his men to attach another
hose-pipe and branch to the engine, so as to double the stream of water
thrown upon the flames; this was soon done, and it being evident that
nothing would avail to stay the progress of the fire in the ricks and
sheds, which were one mass of red glow, both branches were devoted to
the attack upon the big barn.
How the men cheered and pumped; and how the sweat streamed down their
faces as they sent the handles down on each side, "thud--thud; thud--
thud;" and how the streams of water dashed into the burning building,
battling with the forked tongues of the fire, inch by inch, and turning
the glowing timbers into black, smoking, charred masses; while volumes
of steam and smoke now ascended where all before was flame. "Hiss--
hiss--hiss," went the raging flames as the cold streams interposed
between these fiery dragons and their prey; and "ciss--ciss--ciss,"
rushed the water sputtering from the copper tubes the captain of the
brigade and his lieutenant held in their hands. Famously was the engine
kept going, for a barrel of beer was brought down, and the men relieved
each other, and partook of the refreshing draughts handed to them from
the cask.
All at once there was a warning cry, and a hurried rush of many feet,
for ore of the great corn-ricks, which had burned to the very core, had
toppled over, spreading its glowing ashes right across the yard, and a
shower of sparks high up in the air, like a golden whirlwind, setting
fire to the loose straw that lay about in all directions. But for the
presence of the engine, the fire would now have spread in another
direction; but the powerful streams of water that were dashed all over
the place soon extinguished the many little fires that had sprung up,
and Mr Inglis leading on a body of men with buckets to throw water
where it would have good effect, the engine branches were directed again
at the large barn, which was greatly in need of attention, for during
the brief pause the flames had leaped up with renewed violence; but the
steady streams of water soon began to tell upon them, and that too so
well, that in the course of an hour, one branch was considered enough to
finish the task of extinguishing the fire in that building, and the
other poured an unintermitting stream upon each and every part of the
yard where the flames were.
The danger of the ruin spreading was now entirely at an end; and every
minute the glare became duller and fainter. The "clank-clank:
thud-thud" of the engine still kept on hour after hour, for the
smouldering heaps of ashes every now and then burst out into flame; but
a shower from the branches soon reduced its brightness to a cloud of
steam and smoke. The day had long dawned, and at last up rose the sun
upon the scene of devastation, and a sad sight it was, and the more so
from the whispers abroad that it was the work of some evil-minded
person, who, for reasons of his own, had set fire to the stacks; but
happily this afterwards proved not to have been the case, for the fire
was the result of an accident: a tramp, who had lain down in the straw
to sleep, having dropped the match with which he lit his pipe, when the
dry straw caught fire, and the flames ran up the side of the stack by
his side in a few seconds.
It was indeed a sad sight, for all around lay sodden and blackened
straw, charred beams, and smoking rafters, half-burnt boards, scorched
sacks; in short, it was a scene of ruin, and the smoke and steam
ascended in clouds towards the bright morning sky. An occasional dash
from the branch was now sufficient to keep the fire under, and the
greater part of the worn and jaded working people, after partaking of
refreshments at the Grange kitchen, went home to snatch a few hours'
rest, and among those who went to seek rest were Mr Inglis and the
boys. But on entering the house they found the blinds open, and the
breakfast cloth spread, so that they all sat down to a refreshing meal;
after which everybody declared that it would be a pity to go to bed on
so bright a morning.
Fred seemed, however, to have something on his mind; and at last
stammeringly asked his uncle if this disaster would not prove a serious
loss. His fears, however, were set at rest by Mr Inglis, who smiled,
and told him that it would have been, but for the exercise of prudence
and forethought, for, said he--
"If I had not been insured, it would have been a much more terrible
affair; but now the insurance company will either pay me the full value
of everything that has been destroyed by way of compensation, or build
up the whole of my barns and fill them again, so that you see I shall
have new ones instead of old."
"But they can't build a new horse and pigs again," said Harry.
"No, poor creatures," said Mr Inglis; "that was a sad death for them.
However, we have the satisfaction of knowing that we did our best to
save them."
"But what is insurance?" inquired Fred.
"Why, to explain it simply," said Mr Inglis, "a body of men join
together, and pay each of them a small sum of money yearly into a place
of business, which they have in London; and then, when anybody who
belongs to them has a misfortune, and his place is burnt, he has, from
this money that has been paid up in littles, enough sent to him to pay
for all the damage that has been done. Some people keep on paying in
all their lifetime, and never have a misfortune, and so that money goes
to help those who have. Thus in my time I have never had a mishap of
this kind before, but have been paying year after year, for a very long
time, and what I have paid has gone to help those who have been in
trouble; now my turn has come, and I shall write to London to the people
who manage, when they will send down a gentleman to see what is the
amount of damage done, and then they will pay me the money at once, or,
perhaps, repair the damages. So you see, my boy, there is nothing like
prudence and foresight, not only in guarding against fire, but in all
things."