The flames which, driven by the gale, had bent and writhed and twisted toward them, now darted straight upward.
“If we can keep it from reaching the gully,” the man beside them continued, “there’s a chance we can beat it.”
“What gully?” asked Bob, dashing the sweat from his eyes so he might see more plainly. “What do you mean?”
The man jerked a grimy thumb over his shoulder.
“Over there, son,” he said, as he fell to work with redoubled energy, “there’s a narrow little gully between the two mountains. If the fire reaches that there will be no stopping it. There’s a wind that sweeps through that place that will carry the flames ahead faster than we can beat ’em out. That means the blaze will have us surrounded.”
Surrounded! The phrase repeated itself over and over in the thoughts of the boys as they were gradually forced backward and upward by the advance of the flames.
True, the wind had stopped, but the fire had gained such tremendous headway that even now it would require all their energy to defeat it. But could they defeat it? That was the question.
Surrounded! Why, that meant—but it was impossible! They must concentrate all their force, all their men at the mouth of that gully. The fire must be checked.
Bob, starting back for a fresh sack, looked upward, and there, hovering directly over his head, was a sight that thrilled him.
Like two great birds with outstretched wings hovering over the scene of terror were the airplanes, the “eyes” of the Government rangers.