“Alice, the fire has already swept it——”
“I don’t think so. The canyon is deep, and the fire hasn’t got down into it. We must run for it—and if we get through to safety we can ride to a ’phone on the old Lost River road. Then we can ’phone to the ranger station, and they may be able to rush men in time to save some of the forest.”
“But that wouldn’t save the flock——”
“No. We can’t think of that, Hugh—any more. We’ve done what we could. We’ll try to get the dog to follow us, and save him——”
“Then don’t wait any longer,” he urged her. “And kill the horse if need be.” His hands, a single instant, groped toward hers. “Good-by——”
“Good-by?” she questioned; and for the first time a sob caught at her throat. “What do you mean? Get up behind me. It’s the only chance——”
Her eyes leaped to his face,—for the sight of a little weakness, a little sign of breaking strength. It was pale, even under the angry glow of the fire, but it seemed graven of white stone. “No,” he answered clearly. “No, Alice—just one of us must go——”
“Then I’ll stay too. I won’t go alone.”
“Listen!” His voice, ringing out in command above the roar of the flames, held her and silenced her. “You’re wasting precious seconds. The only way you can help is to ride—fast as the horse can run—and try to send rangers to make a last stand in the canyon, and maybe help me out with the sheep. The horse couldn’t make good time with both of us; it would just mean that both of us would die, caught between those two fires. One of us has got to stay here and try the best he can to head the sheep back in the direction that we’ve come—to follow you through the canyon. The wind might change—the fire might not be able to work down at once to the canyon floor—and we might all get through.”
“There’s no hope of that. It means death for you—that’s all it means. And there’s plenty of time for both of us if you’d just leave the sheep. Oh, please——”