It was really too great a task for two pairs of hands. They worked most of that day, cleared up a great deal of the brushwood, dragged fallen logs out of the way, and even made some attempt at cutting a fire guard along the shore. But when evening came they seemed to have made little impression.
“We’d best hire a couple of regular woodcutters to clear up the whole place and burn the rubbish,” said Carl. “We can afford it now.”
“Well, we might take another whack at it ourselves, when we come over to make the winter cases,” suggested Bob.
They did not return to the lake for nearly a week, being busy at putting the home hives into their winter boxes again, but the place was constantly and heavily on their consciences. The woods had grown very dry again. No more rain had fallen, and the ground was covered with dead leaves, dry brush, and bark that any spark would set ablaze. Near the cabin there was not so much danger, for the river made a good fire guard on one side, and the woods on the other were mostly of small green spruce and hemlock, which would not burn very readily.
There was fire somewhere certainly. For several days smoke had hung in the west, and the sun had gone down in a sullen haze of red. Almost every day the boys planned to attend to the lake apiary, but some other duty intervened, till, one morning, Alice ran into the cabin with a frightened look on her face.
“There’s smoke in the northwest—toward the lake!” she exclaimed.
Bob and Carl hurried out to look. Smoke was certainly rolling up from the direction of the lake, and there was a light breeze from the north.
“That dry stuff along the shore must have caught somehow!” exclaimed Bob. “What fools we were not to clear it up. But maybe it hasn’t come near the bee-yard yet. Get your ax, quick, Carl—and run!”
CHAPTER X
FIRE AND WATER
Tearing through the undergrowth, running till they were breathless, walking fast and then running again, the boys made their way through the woods. To save time they took a short cut, but the ground was so rough that it may have proved longer in the end, and before they struck the old logging-road they realized that this was no light blaze in the dead wood. Volumes of smoke surged over the trees, and when they came within half a mile of the lake, they found the way blocked.