OFF ON A LONG HIKE
Jack and Pete, with a week's vacation on their hands, were puzzled as
to what they should do. But Dick Crawford, anxious to get Jack away
from the city for a time, until things should blow over, suggested a
plan.
"I heard from Jim Burroughs the other day," he said. "You remember
Jim, the fellow that is engaged to Miss Benton, up at Eagle Lake?"
"Sure--she's Chris Benton's sister," said Pete Stubbs.
Dick smiled.
"You'll get over thinking about girls as some fellows' sisters when you
get a little older, Pete," he said. "Then you'll remember that the
fellows you know are girls' brothers. Anyhow, Jim says they're all up
in camp there again, and they were asking me if some of the Scouts
couldn't go up there to see them. Why don't you make a long hike and
go up there? You could tramp it in two days, easily enough, and the
weather's just right for a hike like that."
"Say, I think that would be fine!" cried Pete. "Let's do it, Jack,
shall we?"
"I'd like to, if I thought we wouldn't be in the way," said Jack, his
eyes lighting.
"You won't be in the way," said Dick. "I know they'd be glad to see
you. Come on over to Scout headquarters and we'll see what we've got
in the way of equipment for your hike."
At headquarters they found everything they needed. They made up a
couple of packs for each them to carry, with a frying-pan, a coffee
pot, and the other cooking utensils necessary for their two days in the
open, since they would cook their own meals and travel exactly as if
they were in a hostile country, where they could expect no aid from
those whose houses they passed.
"Let's take sleeping bags instead of a tent," said Jack. "I think it's
much better fun to sleep that way. The weather seems likely to be
good, and, anyhow, if it gets very bad, we can find some sort of
shelter. They're a lot easier to carry, too."
Scout-Master Durland, when he heard of the plan, approved it heartily.
They planned to ride for the first twenty miles of their journey by
trolley, since that would take them out into the real country and
beyond the suburbs, where there were many paved streets, which were
anything but ideal for tramping.
"Now we're really off, Jack," cried Pete, as they stepped off the car
the next morning. They had taken the car on its first trip, and it was
but little after seven o'clock when they finally reached the open road
and started off at a good round pace.
"It's fine to travel on a regular schedule," said Pete. "Now we don't
have to hurry. We know just when we ought to reach every place we're
coming to, and how long we can stay. That's much better than just
going off for a long walk."
"Sure it is! It's systematic, and it pays just as well to be
systematic when you're starting out to have a good time as it does when
you're at work. I've found that out."
"I never used to think so. When I first went to work I hated having to
do everything according to rules. But now I know that it's the only
way to get things done on time. The work's been much easier at the
office since we began doing everything that way."
"Look at our Scout camps, Pete. If we didn't do things according to a
system we'd never get through with the work. As it is, we all know
just what to do, and just how to do it. So it takes only about half as
long to cook meals and clean up after them, and we have lots more time
for games and trailing and swimming and things like that. It surely
does pay."
"Gee, I hope it doesn't rain, Jack. It would be too bad if we had to
run into a storm after having good weather all this time when we were
at work."
"I don't believe it's going to rain. But it ought to, really, and it
seems selfish to wish for dry weather when the country needs rain so
badly."
"It's been a mighty dry summer, hasn't it, Jack?"
"Yes. These fires in the forests around here show that. They started
much earlier than they usually do. As a rule October is the time for
the worst fires."
"They seem to be pretty well out around here, though."
"That's because there are so many people to keep them under. But up in
the big woods, where we're going, they're likely to have bad ones, when
they start. You see a fire can get going pretty well up there before
anyone discovers it, and then it's the hardest sort of work to stop it
before it's done an awful lot of damage."
"How do those fires in the woods start, Jack?"
"That's pretty hard to say, Pete. Careless campers start a whole lot
of them. They build fires, and just leave them going when they get
through. Then the sparks begin to fly, and the fire spreads."
"They ought to be arrested!"
"They are, if anyone can prove that they really did start the fire.
But that's pretty hard to do."
"Don't the fires start other ways, too?"
"You bet they do! Sometimes the sparks from an engine will set the dry
leaves on the ground on fire, and, if there happens to be a wind, that
will start the biggest sort of a fire."
"Isn't there any way to prevent that?"
"Yes--but it's expensive and difficult. But gradually they're giving
up the coal engines in the woods, and use oil burners instead. There
are no sparks and hot cinders to drop from an oil burning engine, you
see, and it makes it much safer and cleaner, as well."
"How about when a fire just starts? That happens sometimes, doesn't
it?"
"Yes, and that's the hardest sort of a fire of all to control or to
find. Sometimes, when the leaves and branches get all wet, they will
get terribly hot when the sun blazes down on them. Then, because
they're wet, some sort of a gas develops, and the fire starts with what
they call spontaneous combustion."
"They have a fire patrol in some places, don't they?"
"Yes, and they ought to have one wherever there are woods. Out west
the government forest service keeps men who do nothing all day long but
keep on the lookout for fires. Up on the high peaks they have signal
stations, with semaphores and telephone wires, and men with telescopes
who look out all day long for the first sign of smoke."
"I think that must be a great life. They call them forest rangers,
don't they?"
"Yes. And it is a great job. Those fellows have to know all the
different trees by sight. They have to be able to plant new trees, and
cut down others when the trees need to be thinned out. Forestry is a
science now, and they're teaching it in the colleges. An awful lot of
our forests have been wasted altogether."
"They'll grow again, won't they, Jack?"
"Y-e-s. They will if the work is done properly. But you see those
great big mills, that use up thousands of feet of timber every
season--even millions--don't stop to cut with an idea of reforestation.
They just chop and chop and chop, and when they've cut all the timber
they can, they move on to another section, where they start in and do
it all over again. I'm working to get a Conservation badge, you know.
That's how I've happened to read about all these things."
"I'm going to try to get a Conservation badge, too, Jack. I can start
working for it as soon as I'm a First-Class Scout, can't I?"
"Yes. And this hike will be one of your tests for your First-Class
badge, too. You're only supposed to have to go seven miles, and we'll
make a whole lot more than that. How about your other qualifications?
Coming along all right with them?"
"Yes, indeed. I think I can qualify in a couple of weeks."
"That's fine, Pete! You know I enlisted you, and a Scout is judged
partly by the sort of recruits he brings into the Troop. They'll never
have a chance to blame me for enlisting you if you keep on the way
you've begun."
They were going along at a good pace all this time, not too fast, but
swinging steadily along. The road did not seem long, because their
hard, young bodies were used to exercise, and they took the walking as
a matter of course.
"They'll be expecting us up at the Bentons, won't they, Jack?"
"Dick Crawford said he would write and let Jim Burroughs know we were
coming, Pete. So I guess they'll be on the lookout all right."
"Do you remember the night we got to the lake, and Jim Burroughs and
Miss Benton were lost in the woods?"
"I certainly do! They would have had a bad night of it if we hadn't
found them, I'm afraid. But all's well that ends well. It didn't hurt
them at all, as it turned out, and I guess it taught them both to be
more careful about going out in woods when they weren't sure of the
trail."
"Gee, Jack, I could have got lost myself then. I didn't know how to
travel by the stars, and I wasn't any too sure how to use a compass."
They had traveled more than half the distance when they picked out a
sleeping place that night. They went to a farmer's house, and when he
found that all they wanted was permission to camp in his wood lot, and
to make a fire there, he told them they could do as they liked. He
invited them to spend the night in the house, too, but they told him
they preferred to sleep out-of-doors, and, laughing at them, he
consented.
They were off at five in the morning, and at noon, when they built a
fire and cooked their dinner, they could see the wooded crests of the
hills that were their destination rising before them.
"Look at that haze, Jack," said Pete. "That isn't a storm, is it,
coming along?"
"I don't think so, Pete. I don't like the looks of it. It looks to me
more like smoke, from a woods fire. I've been thinking I smelled smoke
for some time, too."
"Could you smell it as far as this?"
"Smoke from a big forest fire sometimes travels for two or three
hundred miles, if the wind's right, Pete. In the city, even, in the
fall, there will be smoky days, though there isn't a forest fire of any
sort for a good many miles."
"I suppose that's because the wood smoke is so thick."
The further they traveled, the thicker grew the smoke. There could no
longer be any mistake about it. The woods in front of them were well
alight.
"I only hope the fire doesn't reach Eagle Lake," said Jack.
CHAPTER XVI
A TIMELY WARNING
It was nearly dark when they finally arrived at the lake. Chris Benton
and Jim Burroughs were waiting for them at the landing with a couple of
canoes, and they were soon skimming over the placid waters of the lake
to the Benton camp.
"This smoke's pretty thick here," said Jack.
"The woods are on fire all around us," said Chris.
"That's the trouble," said Jim Burroughs. "The summer's been mighty
dry. See how low the lake is. A lot of the streams around here have
dried up. This lake is partly spring fed, and it doesn't depend
altogether on the little brooks that flow into it. Otherwise I'm
afraid this wouldn't be much of a place just now."
"Is there any danger of the fire coming this way, Jim?" asked Jack.
"Not a bit, Jack. The wind's the other way, and if it shifts it's
certain to bring rain with it and put the fire out, anyhow. It would
take a good, strong, east wind to blow the fire over this way, and that
would mean a regular rain storm, sure. So we're safe enough here.
Fires never have reached Eagle Lake."
"I'm glad of that. It would be a shame to have any fire here. It
might burn up the camps, you know, and that would be a pity."
"It sure would! But I guess we're safe enough here. The guides all
say so, and they ought to know, certainly. They've lived in the woods
most of their lives, from what they say, and they don't seem to think
that there's any danger at all."
"They certainly ought to know," agreed Jack. "They know more than we
do, anyhow. That's a sure thing."
The two Scouts were pretty well tired out from their long hike, and
they enjoyed their comfortable beds that night. It was warm, and even
though the air was full of smoke, it was strong and bracing. So they
awoke in the morning refreshed and full of life, and, when Chris hailed
them, they joined him with a will in a plunge into the chilly water of
the lake.
"How far away is the fire, Jim?" Jack asked, after breakfast.
"Two or three miles to the west, I guess," said Jim, carelessly. "It
won't come any nearer, either, Jack."
"I think I'll go take a look at it," said Jack. "Coming, Pete and
Chris?"
"Sure we are!" they cried.
Their eyes smarted, and their throats were parched as they made their
way toward the burning timber, but they didn't mind such small
discomforts, and soon Jack had a chance to see a real woods fire
burning at its height.
"This is the real thing, Pete," he said, when they got a good look at
the fire from the ridge where they had found Bess Benton on the first
night they had been at Eagle Lake, some weeks earlier.
"Gee," said Pete, "I thought that fire we helped to stop near the city
was big enough, but this beats it all hollow, doesn't it, Jack?"
"Come on!" said Jack, with sudden determination. "This isn't safe, no
matter what the guides say. If the wind changes this fire would sweep
right down to the edge of the lake. A little rain wouldn't make any
impression on it at all."
Jack, once his mind was made up, wasn't afraid of ridicule or anything
else. He went back to camp, and sought out Mr. Benton.
"I think that fire's mighty dangerous, Mr. Benton," he said. "I know
the guides say you're perfectly safe here, but I've lived in a place
where they had big woods fires nearly every year, and this is the
biggest fire I ever saw. It would take a week's soaking rain to stop
it, and if the wind turns to the east, even if it does bring some rain,
it will turn that fire straight for the lake here, and burn up
everything it meets on the way."
"What would you advise, Jack?" asked Mr. Benton. There was a twinkle
in his eye, for he thought the guides knew more than Jack, but he
wanted to humor the Scout, who stood very high in his estimation.
"I'd dig a deep, broad ditch, and fill it with water. I'd make it at
least five feet deep, and ten or twelve feet broad, Mr. Benton. That
would give us a chance to keep the fire from reaching the buildings
here. There's still some water in that brook that runs down from the
ridge, though there won't be very long, and you could divert that into
the ditch, and then dam the ditch at the lake, so that you'd have quite
a little pond behind the houses on the side nearest the fire. If you
could get half a dozen men they could dig a ditch like that, roughly,
in a day. And I'd certainly do it, sir!"
Mr. Benton was impressed, despite himself, by Jack's earnestness. His
camp had cost him nearly ten thousand dollars, and practically nothing
would survive the fire if it should sweep over it. So, after a little
thought, and not heeding the laughter of Jim Burroughs and the guides,
he decided to take Jack's advice.
The guides, pressed into service for the digging of the ditch, thought
that the task was foolish. They grumbled at having to do it, but they
had no choice but to obey, once Mr. Benton had given the order. And
before they were half done, the wind, which had died away completely,
began to come again in short puffs from the east.
"That means rain," said Jim. "Jack, you young rascal, I believe you
started this scare just to see us all work!"
"I've known the wind to blow from the northeast for a whole day before
the rain came," said Jack, "especially at this time of the year."
The fire was a mile nearer the camp when the ditch was finished. It
wasn't much of a ditch, and it wouldn't last very long, but looking it
over, Jack decided that it was much better than nothing. And it held
the water, at least, which was the most important thing.
As the wind continued to come from the east, without a sign of the
hoped for rain, Mr. Benton looked very grave.
"I think you've saved us from a real disaster by your insistence,
Jack," he said. "I'm certainly glad that we took your advice."
The roaring of the fire could be plainly heard now. The smoke was so
thick that all of them went around with wet cloths tied over their
mouths, and smoked glasses to protect their eyes. Even the guides
looked serious, and seemed to have a new and greater respect for Jack
Danby and the precaution he had forced them to take.
"Never saw nothin' like this," said one of them. "Never in all the
years I've been in the woods. The youngster sure do know a fire when
he sees it."
"I'm sorry I laughed at you, Jack, old man," said Jim Burroughs,
choking as he spoke. "You certainly had the right dope on this fire.
Gosh, listen to it roaring back there!"
The ditch was in the form of a rough half circle, and went completely
around the Benton clearing. It was dug so that the brook from the
ridge ran into it and filled it, and a space of a foot or so was left
untouched at each end of it where it reached the lake. This made a
natural dam, and held the water in, so that, as the brook continued to
flow in, a small pond was formed behind the clearing, just as Dick had
suggested. That made a wide space for the fire to leap, and Jack felt
that, even if the fire swept completely around his ditch, the men in
the clearing, by constant vigilance, would be able to beat out any
sparks and flying embers that might otherwise have set fire to the
buildings. But, as a further precaution, the boats of the camp, with
water and provisions, were kept ready, so that the family might take to
the lake if the need arose.
"Gee," said Pete, suddenly after nightfall, "we forgot the stuff at
Camp Simms, Jack!"
"So we did!" cried Jack. "Well, there's time enough yet. The fire
will burn right over the camp site there, but it's better cleared than
this, and there won't be much damage if we take the stuff from the
shack and bring it all over here. We can't save the shack, but that
can be built up again in a hurry after the fire's all over. Come on!"
They told the others what they planned to do, and Jim Burroughs
volunteered to go with them and help them. In an hour they had brought
everything portable from Camp Simms to the Benton camp, which was not
very far away, and then they felt that they had taken every possible
precaution. There was nothing more to do after that but wait on the
fire. It could not be hurried, and, so great had it become, it could
not be delayed or checked by any human agency.
There was no question in the mind of any of them now of the wisdom of
Jack's fears. Had it not been for the ditch, they admitted, they could
not have done anything to save the camp.
"There'll be no sleep for any of us to-night," said Mr. Benton. "We'll
have to be ready when it gets near enough to keep it from jumping the
ditch and the pond. There's nothing else to stop it, certainly."
The guides were on watch, beyond the water, like pickets, and before
long they were driven in by the advancing fire. The heat was terrific,
and, under Mr. Benton's direction, lines of hose were laid to the lake,
and with the windmill that pumped fresh water to give pressure, the
hose was played constantly on the roofs and walls of the buildings of
the camp, to make it harder for flying sparks to set them afire.
There was plenty of hose, and as the fire advanced Jack was thankful
for that. Water was better than branches and sticks for beating out
any fire that leaped the water wall, and the hose was easier to handle,
too.
Soon after eleven great drops of water began to fall, and then there
was a steady downpour of rain.
"There's your rain, at last, Jim," said Jack. "You can see how much
effect it has. It's like pouring water from a flower pot down a
volcano and hoping to put it out. The fire doesn't even know it's
raining!"
"I guess you're right, Jack," said Jim. "Don't rub it in, though.
I'll admit that you saved the situation by making us do what you
wanted."
Now began the real fight with the fire. Roaring, bellowing, furious in
its onslaught, it swept all about the ditch that held it from its prey.
It seemed maddened with rage at the obstacle that man had opposed to
its conquering rush, and, raging, it flung sparks and flaming embers at
the defenders of the camp.
For two hours they worked, looking, through the light of the lurid
flames, like fiends. Their faces were blackened by the smoke, but they
never ceased their efforts. Buckets of water were placed all about the
clearing, and into these they plunged the cloths that they kept over
their faces. Other buckets of barley water, with dippers, were also
there, and when there was a chance for a moment's pause, they drank
deep draughts of the most cooling and refreshing drink that man has yet
devised. Barley water with a little lemon juice did more to moisten
parched throats and mouths than the most elaborate drink could have
done. It was food and drink alike.
The rain came down to help them all this time, pouring a great volume
of water on the fire. And, after about two hours of fighting, the fire
was beaten. It had burned over the whole section near the camp. The
lake stopped it, and the fire, growling and angry, died away because
there was nothing else for it to burn. But the vigil lasted all night.
Morning saw Camp Benton standing like an oasis in a desert of blackened
trees and stumps. The whole side of the lake was a wilderness. But
the camp, thanks to the Boy Scout fire fighters, was saved.
"You're certainly welcome guests!" said Mr. Benton. "Thanks to you, we
still have the camp. The trees will grow again. And now I think we
can all go to sleep for about twenty-four hours."
_THE BRADEN BOOKS_
FAR PAST THE FRONTIER.
By JAMES A. BRADEN
The sub-title "Two Boy Pioneers" indicates the nature of this
story--that it has to do with the days when the Ohio Valley and the
Northwest country were sparsely settled. Such a topic is an unfailing
fund of interest to boys, especially when involving a couple of
stalwart young men who leave the East to make their fortunes and to
incur untold dangers.
"Strong, vigorous, healthy, manly."--_Seattle Times_.
CONNECTICUT BOYS IN THE WESTERN RESERVE
By JAMES A. BRADEN
The author once more sends his heroes toward the setting sun. "In all
the glowing enthusiasm of youth, the youngsters seek their fortunes in
the great, fertile wilderness of northern Ohio, and eventually achieve
fair success, though their progress is hindered and sometimes halted by
adventures innumerable. It is a lively, wholesome tale, never dull,
and absorbing in interest for boys who love the fabled life of the
frontier."--Chicago Tribune.
THE TRAIL OF THE SENECA
By JAMES A. BRADEN
In which we follow the romantic careers of John Jerome and Return
Kingdom a little farther.
These two self-reliant boys are living peaceably in their cabin on the
Cuyahoga when an Indian warrior is found dead in the woods nearby. The
Seneca accuses John of witchcraft. This means death at the stake if he
is captured. They decide that the Seneca's charge is made to shield
himself, and set out to prove it. Mad Anthony, then on the Ohio, comes
to their aid, but all their efforts prove futile and the lone cabin is
found in ashes on their return.
CAPTIVES THREE
By JAMES A. BRADEN
A tale of frontier life, and how three children--two boys and a
girl--attempt to reach the settlements in a canoe, but are captured by
the Indians. A common enough occurrence in the days of our
great-grandfathers has been woven into a thrilling story.
The Saalfield Publishing Co,
AKRON, OHIO
THE BOY SCOUT SERIES
1 THE BOY SCOUTS IN CAMP
2 THE BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE
3 THE BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL
4 THE BOY SCOUT FIRE-FIGHTERS
5 THE BOY SCOUTS AFLOAT
6 THE BOY SCOUT PATHFINDERS
7 THE BOY SCOUT AUTOMOBILISTS
8 THE BOY SCOUT AVIATORS
9 THE BOY SCOUTS' CHAMPION RECRUIT
10 THE BOY SCOUTS' DEFIANCE
11 THE BOY SCOUTS' CHALLENGE
12 THE BOY SCOUTS' VICTORY
End of Project Gutenberg's The Boy Scout Fire Fighters, by Robert Maitland