CHAPTER XXV—THE END OF THE FIRE SEASON
Bill lost no time in getting back into the pilot’s seat. He caught the plane as it was falling off onto one wing. By skillful manipulation of the controls, he changed the movement into a nose dive. He knew that they were now safe. A short drop and they would regain flying speed. The plane went down into the dive, gradually picking up speed, and soon Bill pulled it out into a level position and they were flying along normally. Once more they were headed toward Glenbrook, where they could check their radio.
They hopped over a few timber-covered foothills and the town of Glenbrook came into view. It was not much of a town, but a branch line of the railroad followed a small stream and terminated there. The forest headquarters was easily picked out on account of the panel already stretched out on the ground. Earl had started sending with the radio as soon as Bill had regained control of the plane. Bill picked up the O. K. panel and dipped his plane in greeting to the amateur operator who he knew would be watching from below.
Bill knew that the radio operator would immediately send word to the foresters waiting at Elam and Adler that the plane was on its way. He turned his plane to skirt Buck Peak and then crossed Beaver Creek. Here he saw the first of the fires, which were still burning and which circumstantial evidence indicated had been lighted by the firebug. Beaver Creek had proved too great a natural barrier for the fire to cross. To the south and southwest there was nothing to check its path, and it had spread rapidly in that direction. The fight made by the crew on the ground to bar its progress was clearly shown from the scene of desolation extending below them.
The fire had evidently started on a comparatively narrow front. Then the strong wind had spread it out over a broad area. The fire crew had attempted to stop it along the crest of a ridge, and had almost succeeded, for the width was appreciably narrowed down to almost a point. Then on account of the lack of men, or for some other reason, the fire had surged through that narrow opening and spread to an even wider area than before. From the viewpoint of the airmen, it looked as if that fire had almost been guided by human hands.
Sensing that it was hemmed in on all sides, the fire had taken advantage of that one small unguarded strip and had broken through with an irresistible rush, burning fiercer than ever. Bill and Earl could see the crew working ahead of the fire. These men were backfiring, making fire breaks, standing by natural barriers and doing everything humanly possible to vanquish that fire monster. Forest fires always left an indelible impression on Bill’s mind. They seemed to him to be magnificent and awe-inspiring on account of their relentlessness and the apparent unlimited power, but at the same time they were terrifying as he saw the area of complete destruction which followed in their wake. Thus, in a few minutes’ time, timber which had taken hundreds of years to mature was completely effaced, deliberately, or through carelessness by the hand of man.
Bill did not pause in his flight on account of the fire, but traveled along at his hundred-mile an hour pace. He picked up a second and then a third fire. He thought that the third fire might be the one near which they would find the firebug and looked around at Earl for instructions. Earl waved him on.
Off to their left was Mary’s Peak. Somewhere along the road which led down its sides the forest men were waiting. Bill was about to head that way in an endeavor to locate them when he saw a small smoke coming up through the timber almost directly ahead of them. He pointed the nose of the plane down and headed straight for that smoke. Gradually losing altitude, as his plane thundered along at an ever increasing speed, he was barely skimming the tree tops when he reached a point directly over the smoke.
He passed over that fire at a speed far too great to pick up any details on the ground, but Bill did get a fleeting glimpse of a road which ran close by the fire. He had come down so low that the radio antennae wire was torn off by the tree tops. In his anxiety to get to that fire as soon as possible, he had forgotten all about the antennae. From now on the radio was useless. All messages would have to be dropped.
Bill pulled his plane up into a reversement and was back over the fire almost immediately, but traveling at a much lower speed. He saw a man running through the underbrush in a cut-over area not more than fifty yards from the fire. It was up to him now to keep that man in sight until help arrived on the ground. Bill looked at Earl and knew by Earl’s smile that he, too, had seen the man. The mere fact that he was that close to the fire and was running when seen was sufficient in Bill’s mind to brand him as the man who had started the fire.
Another circle and they lost the suspect. Bill made a wider circle, always keeping the road on both sides of the fire in sight. Sooner or later the firebug must come out on the road to get away from the burning timber. Then Bill saw an automobile standing alongside the road several hundred yards from the fire. He flew slowly and low over the car and obtained sufficient data regarding it to enable him to write a good description of the auto.
Bill again circled the car and wrote: “Brown roadster on mountain road running southeast from Adler. Hold the driver. Roadster now headed toward Adler. Will keep you advised as to its location. Bruce.” He handed this note back to Earl.
The forester took the note and read it. He nodded his O. K. and Bill headed the plane toward Adler. If the foresters on the ground were at Adler, everything would be fine, but if they had gone up the mountain toward Elam, things might not work out so well. Just then Bill turned around and saw the firebug climb into his car and start down the mountain road.
Adler came into view after a few minutes’ flying. It was a small village, and standing in the middle of the street was an automobile. Bill flew low over the scattered houses and caught a glimpse of several men standing by the car. These men stretched out a white sheet on the ground. There was no doubt now but that they were the foresters. Bill made a quick turn and dropped back right over the car.
When they had almost reached a point over the car, Earl stood up in the cockpit and threw a message overboard. He had tied a piece of cloth and a stone to the message. The stone tended to make it drop straight downward and the streamer to make it visible from the ground. Earl, however, had misjudged the speed of the plane and the message dropped onto the roof of a nearby house.
Bill was almost frantic. Suppose that the firebug should run through the town while the foresters were climbing up to the roof to get that message. Something must be done at once. Bill made another circle and Earl tapped him on the back. Simmons was writing another message. When the message was completed, Bill made another dip over the car. As he passed, he saw a man on the roof of the house searching for the first message. The second one dropped at the feet of the men by the auto. While making a circle to see if they understood, Bill saw the other men jump into their car and start off toward the mountain road, leaving one of their number still on the roof of the house.
Bill headed his plane for the nearest point on that mountain road. He caught a glimpse of the brown roadster turning off the road into what seemed to be a deserted homestead. Bill then made wide circles around the deserted buildings so as to give the impression that he had not seen the firebug turn off the road.
The firebug stopped his car and ran around the first building, which appeared to be an old barn. He then disappeared from view on the other side. There was no way now of telling where he had gone. He might be in the old barn or he might have gone into the underbrush beyond. Bill continued his wide circles and wrote another message to the pursuers on the ground. It read: “Search abandoned homestead over which I will circle. Bruce.”
Earl received this message and, after reading it, nodded his approval. Bill continued his circling so that he could watch both the road and the building. The foresters’ car came into view, tearing up the mountain road. Bill flew low to attract its attention and then, when it had stopped, Earl again demonstrated his ability as an aerial marksman by dropping the weighted message into the edge of the woods alongside the car. Bill did not wait to see if they picked it up, for he did not want to lose track of that brown roadster.
He circled around over the old homestead. The car was still there, but there was no sign of the firebug. He might by this time be in any one of the three buildings or be in the woods a good distance away. Bill tried to catch a glimpse of anything moving under the thick trees, but came to the conclusion that if he did, it would be by the merest chance.
The foresters came up the road and stopped at the entrance to the deserted clearing. Four men jumped from the car and started toward the brown car. One of them stayed by the roadster while the others began a search of the buildings. I saw one of them enter the old barn and wondered if the firebug was armed. If he was and started shooting, he might get away before the foresters could surround him.
The time passed mighty slowly for Earl and Bill as they watched the developments from their aerial grand-stand seats. Neither one could get any idea of what was happening on the ground. The only one of the foresters whom they could see was doing something to the roadster, just what, neither one could make out. The others were still in the buildings. Both Earl and Bill were eager to be of some active assistance, but realized that it was impossible.
Just then they saw two of the foresters run toward the old barn. Evidently things were coming to a climax. The man by the car stopped his work and watched the old building. A cloud of smoke shot out of the roof of the barn. The firebug was true to form even when cornered: he had set fire to the old barn as a last resort. He hoped to escape under cover of the smoke and excitement when the fire started burning.
His ruse failed, for in a few minutes Bill saw four men emerge from the rapidly burning building. As they came out into the open some distance from the burning building, they stopped to make their captive fast to a nearby log and then the foresters returned to prevent the spread of the fire from the burning building.
Bill flew low over the tree tops. He wanted to get a look at this demon who had deliberately fired the woods. As he flashed by, the firebug raised his head and shook his fist at the plane. One glimpse was sufficient for Bill to establish the identity of this criminal. His old enemy, Andre, was again in the hands of the law. The forest fire season in Oregon was over.