Carl knew just enough French to gather that she was too bewildered to know anything, and that she wanted to go home. He could not imagine how she had been left here,—unless, indeed, all the rest of the family had perished.
“Come along. I’ll take care of you,” he said, and he took her hand and led her out. But her five-year-old steps could not keep up with him, and he had to take her up in his arms and carry her.
With this load he knew that he could never scramble and plunge through the marsh to safety, and he determined to go back by the way he had come. First, however, he put the little girl down, and ran to look into the cabin. No one was there; it was dismantled of all its household stuff and bore the signs of a removal in haste. Plainly the squatter had got away, but Carl could not conceive by what carelessness the child had been left behind.
Picking up the little girl again, he started back through the woods. The smoke was thicker; it was perceptibly hotter, and within thirty yards he found the ground on fire before him. The trees had not yet caught, but the leaves, deadwood, and underbrush were all aflame or smoldering, making a belt impossible to cross.
Carl turned back across the clearing again, and tried the other side. Here it was even worse, for there was a huge “wind-row” of fallen, dry spruces that was blazing like a furnace. Again Carl was driven back, and when he reached the clearing, he noticed that the roof of the barn was beginning to burn, ignited by falling sparks.
There was nothing left for it, but to try the marsh. He paused and looked it over, trying to pick out the firmest part, and at that moment he heard two quick gunshots from the river, far out through the smoke.
It was Bob, he thought, signalling his position. He forgot for the moment that they had brought no guns with them. Carl yelled loudly in reply, and strode out warily into the great slough.
At first it was comparatively firm, then he suddenly went over his shoe-tops in mire. He struggled out and tried to step from one tuft of grass to another till the vegetation ceased entirely, and he saw in front a dim expanse of green quagmire, spotted with pools of oily-looking water. It was impossible to pass that way. Carl struggled back to firm ground again, set the child down and looked desperately about.
Scattered fires were breaking out all around the clearing now, and here and there the tall weeds along the marsh were beginning to blaze. Soon it would be impossible to remain even there. He hurried up and down the margin, trying the footing. Nowhere could he find any solid way. No doubt Larue would have known safe trails through the slough, but in the hurry and flurry of the moment Carl could not hit upon one.
Again he heard two shots from the river. The boat was no doubt moving slowly up and down in front of the marsh. Carl shouted again, but the roaring of the fire and wind was now so loud that he doubted if he was heard.