There was no escape, for the burning balloon was going down in the very
midst of the crackling forest.
Already the atmosphere was thick with smoke and flaming pieces of wood
and brush.
It was with difficulty that Leo breathed, and he could scarcely see a
dozen feet before him.
Larry Greson, the assistant, lay on the floor of the basket, too
frightened to move.
"Out with the sandbags!" cried the young gymnast. "It is our one hope!"
"What's the use? The balloon is on fire!" gasped Greson hopelessly.
"We must do something--I won't give up!" was Leo's response.
He began to cast out the heavy bags one after the other. Greson at last
consented to help him.
The burning balloon shot up into the air fifty or sixty feet. But only
for a few seconds.
Yet this space of time was enough to carry them over the worst of the
burning forest.
Then they began to settle again, the smoke rolling blackly on all sides
of them.
"We're goners!" groaned Greson. "Good-by."
Splash! What was this? Both could scarcely believe the evidence of their
senses.
They had dropped into the very center of a little lake in the midst of
the forest. Down they went, with the burning balloon settling over them.
Both knew enough to leap from the basket and dive under. It was well
they did so; otherwise they would have been caught in the folds of the
ignited monster and drowned like rats in a trap.
Leo took a long dive, and when he came up he was fully fifty feet away
from what was left of the once valuable balloon, now partly above and
partly below water, and still burning and hissing.
"Larry, where are you?" he called out.
He received no reply, but a moment later perceived his assistant puffing
and blowing not a dozen feet away.
"This is awful!" spluttered Greson. "We've escaped from fire to be
drowned."
"Nonsense! Come, let us swim ashore."
"How can we do that when the fire is on all sides of the lake?" was
Greson's dismayed answer.
"I'll find some spot to land, never fear," was Leo's confident reply.
He led the way, and Greson, being a good swimmer, easily followed.
The firebrands were thick about them, and often they had to duck to get
out of the way of being burned. It was with difficulty that they could
get any fresh air.
To one side of the lake, which was not over three hundred feet in
diameter, Leo beheld a number of high rocks comparatively free from
burning brush. Hither he directed his course.
"We can get on the rocks, if nothing else," he said.
"Yes, and have our feet blistered," growled Greson. "I'll bet the stones
are as hot as pepper."
"We'll try them, anyway."
The young gymnast swam around with great care before he essayed to land.
Presently he discovered a little cove, and further on a split in the
rocks several feet in width.
"Just the spot! Come," he shouted to Greson.
He led the way into the narrow opening. Fifteen feet further on was a
bit of a cave, and into this the pair crawled on hands and knees.
It was much cooler in the cave than it had been outside. By lying flat
on the flooring they managed to get a current of fresh air. There was
also a little pool there, and both washed the sweat and smoke from their
faces and procured a drink. They were exhausted, and only too glad to
about lie down and rest in their safe retreat.
"A narrow escape, truly," said Leo with a shiver.
"We ain't out of it yet," returned Greson.
"I know that."
"We may have to stay here a week, and without food; that won't be very
pleasant."
Slowly the day wore on.
Overhead the flames crackled and roared as if delighted to hold sway
over such an immense area of woods.
Once the wind changed a bit and blew the smoke directly down upon them.
But just as they had about made up their minds that they would have to
seek new quarters it went back, and they were molested no more on that
score.
Toward evening both began to feel hungry.
"There ought to be lots of dead birds and small animals around," said
the young gymnast. "But the thing is to get hold of them."
"I'm not going to venture out--at least not yet," said Greson.
"All right--let's wait till empty stomachs drive us out."
"I have an idea. The lake--it must have fish in it."
"That's right!" cried Leo.
He had some line in his pocket. Soon he had made a hook with a big bent
pin.
In the meantime Greson dug around among some dirt near the pool for
worms. He brought out several.
The line was baited, a stone put on for a sinker and thrown into the
water. Then they went back to the cave.
Twice they found the line as they had left it. But the third time
something was on it. They hauled in the catch.
It was a fat, spotted fish, weighing nearly two pounds.
"Good!" shouted Greson. "Now to cook him. Heaven knows there is fire
enough!"
Half an hour later the fish was done to a turn. They ate him with a big
relish, and at once threw out the line again, in hope of catching
something for the morning meal.