The smoke was driving fiercely through the green trees on the slope, and
the line of fire was not far in the rear. Every moment the wind gained
force, every minute the flames leaped higher and faster.
The foresters felling trees and clearing a space at an advantageous
point some distance in advance of the flames were working blindly,
mechanically. The heat was intense, the smoke suffocating, irritating,
blinding. The shirts of the workers were open at the throat, their coats
had long ago been lost as they had been beaten back from one stand to
another.
Now and then a worker dropped senseless in his tracks, his lips cracked
with the heat, his face blistered, his tongue lolling from his smarting
mouth like that of an overworked horse. Then the men who were able to
move and understand would carry him back to a spot of supposed safety
and return to re-engage in the almost hopeless fight, the battle which
the flames were winning in every charge and sally.
The aeroplane, after a narrow escape from destruction, landed on a
little rise of ground back of the working line when the wind lulled for
an instant, and hope shone in the faces of the astonished men who
gathered about to greet the unexpected arrivals.
"We can master it," Green, the leader, said, after many questions had
been asked and answered, "if we can be supplied with water. We wasted
our supply wetting our clothes a long time ago, and are suffering."
"Get us water," shouted another, "and we'll win yet."
"There's a spring three miles away," Green went on, speaking in Ned's
ear, for the roaring of the flames drowned all ordinary conversation.
"If you can take our water bottles there and fill them we can beat this
blaze. If you can't we've got to retreat and let the whole district burn
over."
"I have very little gasoline," Ned replied, "but I'll try."
"We sent two men out not long ago," Green continued, thrusting his
scorched face close to the boy's. "We sent them out with water bags, but
there are no trails, and It will take them hours to make the spring and
return. With your aeroplane you ought to do it within half an hour."
"Fire fighters marooned without a supply of water, or a trail cut to a
spring!" shouted Frank, scornfully. "Great head some one in authority
has!"
"There are no trails, no telephones, no horses!" cried Green. "It looks
as if the government sent us here to die. Hurry up with that water."
"If the gasoline holds out," Ned said, loading a dozen water bags on the
machine, "I'll be back here in less than half an hour, bar accidents."
"There is plenty of gasoline back there in the shanty," cried Green. "We
have been using it lately in starting back fires, but the wind is now
too strong for that. Get a move on, and take all you want."
In a short space of time, but not without great risk, the tanks of the
aeroplane were filled, and then Ned took in the general situation in the
sky. The wind was blowing in puffs, but it was certain that a miniature
tornado was at hand. He thought he could reach the spring, which had
been described as lying to the southeast, but was not certain that he
could make his way back.
He believed, however, that by flying either very low or very high up, so
as to get all the protection possible from the mountain, or escape the
sweep of wind just above the fire, he might be able to bring in one load
of water before the worst of the wind storm came. He knew that it was an
almost unheard of thing to even try to navigate the air in such a gale,
but human lives were at stake, and he decided to try.
"You'll have to help me up against this wind," Ned said to Green. "If I
start with the air current I'll be carried too far to the east before my
power begins to become effective. If I can hold my own against the wind
until I get above the smoke I think I can win the game."
It was a desperate expedient, but it appeared to be the only possible
one. If the men had water they might succeed in stopping the fire and
saving millions of dollars worth of timber. If the fire gained the upper
hand they might lose their lives. The men cleared and smoothed a path
for the run of the wheels, by great exertion sent the machine along at
good speed, and then stood and watched it with anxiety depicted in their
faces.
The great white bird quivered in the face of the wind, but the motors
were true to their duty and the rudder held. To turn about in the face
of that rush would be impossible, so Ned worked his levers guardedly and
kept the wings as level as he could. Now and then a swirl of heated air
would shake the hopes of those watching below, but in the end the
aeroplane drifted slowly ahead, up, higher up, and was lost in the
smoke.
"The lad is worth his weight in gold!" shouted Green. "He'll do it! I
know he'll do it!"
"Powerful motor," one of the foresters said. "When we saw the machine
last she was actually holding her own against the wind."
This was, indeed, the fact, but the wind was not as strong in the higher
levels as at the upper limit of the heat from the fires. A great fire
usually brings a great wind, as those who witnessed the burning of
Chicago and San Francisco well know. The hot air rises, forming a
partial vacuum, and the colder air rushes in.
Ned and Frank gained the spring, filled their water bags and started
back. It was no easy task to land near the spring in that whirl of wind,
nor yet an easy task to get the aeroplane into the air again, but the
feats were accomplished. Often after that exciting day the boys declared
that they had no idea how they ever did it.
"We were excited," Frank would say, "and took chances, everything worked
in our favor, and we loaded the water. We knew that lives were at stake,
and it seemed that we had the strength of a score of men, and the cool
heads of men far beyond all excitement. I never saw anything like the
way Ned handled the levers. The wings and the rudders seemed to me to
work on a brain suggestion rather than on a movement of the levers."
But the most difficult part of the journey still remained to be
accomplished after the water had been secured. The 'plane was much
heavier and did not respond so readily to the hand of the driver, and
the return course was quartering against the wind. Ned, however, did not
attempt to move directly toward the destination he sought.
Instead he sailed off to the south, working west as much as possible. He
tacked as a yacht tacks in the wind and came near upsetting several
times. He found it impossible to sail low on account of the eddies and
currents created by the heat, and so lifted the machine far up into the
air. It was better sailing there, and he managed to get as far west as
he thought necessary.
But he could not see the landing place. Below was an ocean of smoke, the
waves heaving in the touch of the wind, the edges now and then tipped
with flame. Above the sun smiled at him, and the birds flew excitedly
about, peering down at the threatening roll of clouds.
"I'm afraid," Frank said, grasping an upright and clinging to the water
bags.
"I never was so frightened in my life," Ned called back, lifting his
voice so that it might be heard above the snapping of the motors.
"I didn't finish," Frank called back, his heart thumping loudly. "I
wanted to say that I was afraid we'd sweep past the workers when we
descended into the smoke and the swifter breeze near the earth."
"I said just what I wanted to say," Ned answered. "I never was half so
scared in all my life."
Yet his hand on the lever was steady, his brain was as cool as if he had
been sitting in the Wolf Patrol club room in New York. He knew that the
dip of a wing a foot lower than he intended might send them both into
the blazing forest below. He was afraid, but not with a shrinking,
physical fear, but afraid because he understood the peril he was
in--because he knew that upon his efforts depended the lives of the
heroes in the heated hell below.
"We've got to go into that mess of smoke, I suppose?" shouted Frank.
"There is no other way," Ned called back. "We've got to dip down low
enough to see the line of fire and take our chances on landing where the
fighters are. You understand that they are farther to the east than when
we left them?"
"Of course they have been driven back," Frank said. "I never thought of
that. We may not be able to find them at all."
Ned shut his teeth and settled his jaw.
"We've got to find them," he said.
A long, sullen roaring, like the beating of waves on a beach in a storm,
now reached the boys' ears, even shutting out the chattering of the
motors. It came from the west, and passed along, as it seemed, below the
level held by the aeroplane, now high up in the air.
"If we don't get down there pretty soon," Ned said, shouting, "we will
be too late. That wind will join the different fires and make one
roaring mass of the whole northwest. I wish I knew just how far the
foresters have been driven back."
"Do you know where to look for them, north or south?" asked Frank.
"There is a peak to the west and one to the east," was the reply. "They
are on a line with the two. But the trouble is that we can't see the
peaks after we drop down into the smoke."
"There appears to be a little lull in the wind now," Frank said,
shutting his lips tight, as a man does when about to make a sudden
plunge into unknown waters.
The remark was suggestive. Ned knew by it that his chum had braced
himself for the dash.
"Here we go, then," Ned replied. "Remember that we'll go about eighty
miles an hour when I turn the motor on full head, and that we can't be
more than five miles from the spot where we left them, so keep your eyes
out."
The aeroplane dipped gracefully as Ned touched the lever. In a minute
the boys were surrounded by smoke. It was hot smoke, too, and made
breathing difficult. Their eyes smarted until their faces were wet with
nature's protest against such irritation of the organs of sight. The
chuck-chuck, snap-snap of the motors was in their ears, the seats they
occupied--frail rests between life and death--shivered under the
pulsations of the machine.
Now and then the aeroplane dipped frightfully, but the wings and the
rudders brought it back again.
"Can you see the earth yet?" asked Frank, In an awed tone, which sounded
like a whisper in that clatter.
"We seem to be over the fire," Ned returned.
And that was all. There was no need of conversation. In all their lives
they would never be so near to a frightful death as they were then.
First they caught sight of a rocky ridge. Ned knew where that was, and
realized that he was still in the direct line of the workers. Beyond
this ridge, he knew, was a valley, so he must drop down. The workers
were on a level beyond the valley, a great plain of fir and pine between
gigantic ranges of the Rocky Mountains.
The aeroplane trembled as she dropped, swiftly, apparently straight
down. Frank grasped his upright and prepared to spring out of the
wreckage when it fell, if there was anything to fall from after the
trees had had their way with the frail machine.
The smoke was blinding. Nothing could be seen but smoke for a time. Then
the dark gray clouds turned red, and Ned knew that he was nearing the
advance line of the fire, and that it was mounting to the very tops of
the giant trees on the plain--or elevated plateau, rather, for, though
comparatively smooth of surface and heavily timbered, it was far above
sea level.
If you look on an enlarged map of northern Montana you will see that the
Rocky Mountains do not consist of one great, massive range. There are
ridges and valleys, and plateaus extending for hundreds of miles along
the British frontier. There are peaks from which the snow never
disappears, and there are timber lines which crawl almost to the summit
of other peaks. There are fertile valleys where cattle grow fat, and
great gorges where beasts of prey await their victims in thickets.
It is the timber on this great stretch of country that the United States
government is trying to save.
The heat was blistering now, and Ned feared for the safety of his
gasoline tanks. At a motion from him Frank removed his coat, carefully,
for a slight movement in the air is sometimes productive of disastrous
results, placed it over the tanks, after a great effort, and managed to
saturate it with water from one of the bags.
Through the smoke a line of tree tops now came into view, low down, and
the boys knew that they had passed the fire line. Ned tried to slow
down, but found that he must keep the motors going in order to retain
control of the machine.
"There's a clear space ahead!" Frank shouted, and Ned dropped. Then a
giant trunk obtruded itself, and the boy tried to dip and whirl so as to
dodge it, but the pressure of the wind was too strong.
The machine headed straight for the tree, which seemed to Frank to be
about a thousand feet high.
"Hang on to the first thing that comes to your hands if she strikes!"
Ned shouted. "But stick to the 'plane as long as she is clear. There may
be a current of air which will sweep us away from that tree."
"Here's hoping!" Frank gasped back, and then the smoke shut out the
view, making the situation doubly dangerous.