Wilbur was working doggedly, yet in a spiritless, tired fashion, beating out the fire with a wet gunnysack as it reached the fire-guard of the old hunter's making, and very carefully putting out any spark that the wind drove across it, working almost without thought. But as he topped the ridge and came within full view of the fire that had started among the tops, his listlessness fell from him. Against the glow he could see the outline of the figure of the hunter, and he ran up to him.
"It's all out, back there," he panted. "What shall we do here?"
For the first time the Ranger seemed to have no answer ready. Then he said slowly:
"I reckon we can hold this bit of it, up yonder on the mountain, but there's a line of fire runnin' around by the gully, and the wind's beginnin' a-howlin' through there. I don't reckon we can stop that. We may have to fall back beyond the river. We'll need axmen, now. You've got a good mare; ride down to Pete's mine and bring all hands. The government will pay them, an' they'll come. There's the dawn; it'll be light in half an hour. You'd better move, too."
Wilbur started off at a shambling run, half wondering, as he did so, how it was he was able to keep up at all. But as he looked back he saw the old hunter, ax on shoulder, going quietly up the hill into the very teeth of the fire to head it off on the mountain top, if he could. He reached Kit and climbed into the saddle. But he was not sleepy, though almost too weary to sit upright. One moment the forest would be light as a glare from the fire reached him, the next moment it would be all the darker for the contrast. For a mile he rode over the blackened and burned forest floor, some trees still ablaze and smoking. Every step he took, for all he knew, might be leading him on into a fire-encircled place from which he would have difficulty in escaping, but on he went. There was no trail, he only had a vague sense of direction, and on both sides of him was fire. Probably fire was also in front, and if so he was riding into it, but he had his orders and on he must go. The mine, he knew, was lower down on the gully, and so roughly he followed it. Twice he had to force Kit to cross, but it was growing light now, so the little mare took the water quietly and followed the further bank. Suddenly he heard horses' hoofs, evidently a party, and he shouted. An answering shout was the response, and the horses pulled up. He touched Kit and in a minute or two broke through to them.
"Oh, it's you, Mr. Merritt," said the boy, "I was just wondering who it might be."
"The fire's over there," said the Supervisor. "What are you doing here?"
"Rifle-Eye sent me to get the men at Pete's mine," he said.
"They're here," replied the Forest Chief. "How's the fire?"
"Bad," said the boy. "Rifle-Eye said he thought we would have to fall back beyond the river."