THE FIRE
The others stared at Jessie incredulously for a moment. Then Amy rushed
forward and grasped one of the phones. Suddenly the dread in Jessie’s
face spread to hers.
“It must be a terrible fire! They are calling out the reserves!” she
exclaimed.
“What shall we do?” cried Nell. “We don’t know which way to run!”
“Let me pass, please,” cried an authoritative voice, and a forest ranger
dashed past them and rushed up to the radio set. The young folks watched
him with fascinated interest.
The ranger listened for a moment with furrowed brow, then, by means of
the sending apparatus with which the hut was also equipped, sent back
word to the station that the orders had been heard and would be obeyed.
Then he looked at the young folks as though seeing them for the first
time.
“Better get out of here, quick!” he commanded, in the curt tones of one
who has not a moment to waste. “Fire sweeping in this direction. Worst
one in years. Run for it.”
“But where, where?” cried Jessie, catching his sleeve, as he was
hurrying out again. “Where shall we go?”
“Straight down to the lake, keep facing northwest,” commanded the
ranger. “Better get out on the lake if you have boats. Fire apt to sweep
the water front if we don’t get busy. Run!” With these words he turned
and dashed from the hut.
Following him out into the open, the girls and boys saw him join a group
of rangers, all fully equipped for fire fighting. He shouted a command
to the men, and they turned and ran through the woods away from the
lake.
“They are going to beat the fire back!” gasped Jessie, as they started
on a run in the general direction of the water. “Poor Darry, we can’t
even look for him now!”
“Look at that smoke!” cried Nell, pointing to a heavy black cloud that
swirled above the trees and seemed to be bearing down upon them.
“The fire must be gaining on us!” sobbed Amy, as she pushed steadily on
through the nightmare branches and entangling vines. “Suppose we can’t
reach the lake!”
“We must reach it!” said Jessie, in a hard voice that she did not
recognize as hers at all. “Let’s run, can’t we?”
It was then she discovered something that Burd had valiantly kept from
them up to that time. He limped, and one foot seemed to drag painfully
behind him.
“Burd, you are hurt!” she cried, in quick concern. “Why didn’t you tell
us?”
“It isn’t anything,” the young fellow assured her, trying to summon up
his old cheerful grin. “Caught my ankle in the root of a tree this
morning and took a pretty header. Serves me right for not watching my
step.”
“Oh, but that is dreadful, Burd!” cried Amy, forgetful momentarily of
their danger, and even of Darry, in sympathy for him. “You must have
been in agony, dragging all these miles with a sprained ankle.”
“Just wrenched, that’s all. Don’t worry about it,” said Burd, limping
on. But the girls saw that his mouth was set in a straight line and his
eyes were clouded with pain.
Fol and Nell were already out of sight. Fol knew nothing of Burd’s
plight, or he would, of course, have stayed to help him.
Back of them there was a distant crackling sound, the pungent odor of
burning wood filled their nostrils, choking them.
Jessie gave a quick glance over her shoulder and caught her breath. A
thin fork of red had rent for a moment the curtain of smoke. The fire
was gaining on them!
“Lean on me, Burd, do,” she said, breathlessly. “Amy will take the other
side, and we can help you. That’s the way.”
Some new and urgent quality in her voice caused Burd also to look
behind. He shut his eyes and groaned.
“You will have to go on, girls,” he said. “The fire is gaining fast.
This foot—I can’t go any faster.”
“We are not going any faster than you can go, Burd Alling,” Amy flashed
out at him fiercely. “Do you think for a moment we would go and leave
you? You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”
“I am,” said Burd, with an imitation of his old grin.
The next moment he stumbled heavily and fell into a hole caused by the
uprooting of a giant tree. When the girls bent over him he grimaced with
pain.
“Better go on,” he said. “Done for the old ankle this time, I guess.
Feels sort of busted up generally.”
“But, Burd, you must try to get up. You must, you must!” cried Amy,
shaking him desperately. “We will help you. You can lean on Jessie and
me. That horrible smoke. It—is—choking me——” She broke off,
half-strangled, and Burd, with Jessie’s aid, struggled to his feet.
He said no word as they helped him out of the hole and to solid ground
again, but his lips were white with pain.
“Come on,” he said, limping ahead, manfully, though he alone knew how
much that effort cost him. “There is a lot of fight left in the old
carcass yet. Got the compass, Jess? That’s right. All you have to do is
to keep us steered in the right direction.”
They could hear the roar of the flames now, the voices of the
fire-fighters as they urged each other on. Above the scene of battle
hovered the airplanes, watching keenly the progress of the fire,
directing each step in the fight. The whirring of their engines, like
the noise of gigantic beetles, came faintly to the ears of Jessie and
Amy as, with the crippled Burd, they struggled onward toward the haven
of the water.
It seemed to them as though the forest had suddenly become a sentient
thing, reaching out horrible nightmare fingers to halt their progress,
pushing them backward toward the fire and destruction.
At last came a hoarse, triumphant cry from Jessie.
“The water—over there, through the trees!” she sobbed. “We are
safe—safe!”
The sight of that water was deceptive, for they still had a weary way to
go before reaching the protection of it. But it was possible now to see
their progress, and Burd, with the anxious encouragement of Jessie and
Amy, nerved himself for that last great effort.
“There is the lodge,” gasped Amy, pushing the hair back from her face.
“Tell me I am not dreaming, Jess, Burd. It is the lodge, isn’t it?”
“Thank heaven—yes,” groaned Burd, adding, as they pressed forward: “You
girls are bricks. I won’t forget it. Ouch! Confound that rock——”
“We will have it removed before you come this way again,” said Amy, with
a choked little laugh. “There is Aunt Emma, waiting for us, bless her.”
“Home! I thought we would never see it again!” cried Jessie, huskily, as
Miss Alling rushed to them, forcing Burd to lean upon her shoulder and
relieving the exhausted girls.
They reached the lodge and found Nell and Fol inside, hastily packing
their belongings.
“Is it—as bad as that?” asked Jessie, as she flung herself into a chair
and covered her burning eyes with smoke-stained fingers. “Shall we have
to leave the lodge, Aunt Emma?”
“I hope not, my dear,” returned Miss Alling, briskly. “We are only
preparing for that emergency. The fire, with the impetus it has gained,
may sweep down to the lake front, and in that case our only safe refuge
will be the boats.”
“The radio—we must save that,” cried Jessie, feverishly, springing to
her feet. “Oh, we must hurry—hurry——”
“We have it almost packed, Jess, dear,” said Nell, who had been fussing
over Burd and lamenting the fact that she and Fol had not known of his
crippled ankle. “I have it nearly dismantled, and Fol has been carefully
packing the parts.”
“One can always depend on Nell,” said Amy, as she bestirred herself
wearily to help in the packing. “What do we do next?”
Aunt Emma answered the question in a brief and efficient manner, and it
was only a short time before everything was in readiness for a quick
retreat to the lake in case such an action became necessary.
“Guess we can’t do any more, Jess,” said Amy, soberly, as she joined her
chum at a window that commanded a view of the burning forest. “Our game
will have to be a waiting one from now on.”
“That is the most horrible part of it,” cried Jessie, in a fierce
whisper. “To have to stay here and watch—and do nothing! Amy, I can’t
bear it!”