“Well, you see, there’s a nasty fire coming this way, and I knew you’d be glad to have help to save the shack before morning; so I hustled over.”
“If the wind would only shift around, we’d be all right,” said Ben, gloomily.
“There’s not much wind to shift,” the trapper replied, shaking his head.
The boys sat listening while the two experienced woodsmen consulted as to the best way of keeping the fire off. They finally agreed that the safest course would be to back-fire the woods on all four sides of the cabin. It would be dangerous, for the dry forest, when once kindled, would burn like tinder. The fighters would have to work hard to prevent their fire from turning back and consuming the cabin. To make matters worse, the wind was momentarily strengthening, so that on two sides at least they would be obliged to drive their back-fire into the face of it. But nothing was to be gained by delay, and they began the fight at once.
Ed and George were sent to the lake for pails of water, while Ben and the trapper cut a supply of white-pine boughs for use as beaters. When the boys returned they were each given one of these pine branches and told to wet them and beat out any encroaching patch of flame. Ed was then detailed to the roof to beat out any sparks that might light there. George was ordered to follow along the line of fire started by the men, and told to keep it away from the dry log walls.
FIGHTING A FOREST FIRE
By this time the smoke was so dense that they could not see one another, and Ben cautioned George against wandering away. Great black cinders and bits of charred wood were flying through the woods and dropping all about them. Birds and animals, fleeing from the fire, went by within easy reach. A deer, in its wild panic, almost ran into the cabin, and they heard the frightened creature jump into the lake a few seconds later. Grouse whizzed past close to their heads, and rabbits and smaller things scurried by almost beneath their feet.
Then they heard the roar of the fire, the crackling of undergrowth, and the crash of falling timber as the great wall of flame drew nearer. Twilight fell early, on account of the smoke, and it was soon quite dark. The roar of the approaching flames sounded like the noise of an express-train. The smoke grew still thicker, and they gasped for breath, as scorching heat-waves, like blasts from an open furnace, swept over them.
They had started their back-fire, and George and the woodsmen were compelled to work like demons to keep it from blowing back toward the cabin. The wind blew the smoke and flames full into their faces as they pounded and stamped to force the lengthening line of flame on its windward course to grapple with the onrushing flames of the forest fire.