FIGHTING FIRE
The cry of fire at any time, is a dreadful one to hear. Whether it be in the crowded city, or in the lonely country; whether on board a ship on the heaving ocean, or an alarm given where factory workers are assembled; it is fearsome, always.
And though Dave and his friends were out on the great, open prairies, where the fire might have full sweep without ever coming near them, yet the cry of the young cowboy roused all instantly.
For fire on the prairies means more than would at first seem, and when a herd of cattle is in its path it is a warning that must be heeded at once if one would save the stock.
If there is not actual danger from the fire itself, there is the risk of its stampeding the cattle causing them to make a mad rush in which many will be killed.
"Fire! Fire!" yelled Dave, but his first cry was enough. All the sleepers jumped to their feet, and an echoing cry came from the cowboys who, on the far side of the herd of cattle were riding around them to keep them from straying.
As yet the animals had not taken the alarm. They could not smell the fire, for it was too far away, and the dull, distant glow in the west, as yet, meant nothing to them.
Nor had Dave's cries, and the answers thereto, given them any alarm. They were accustomed to the shouting and yelling of the cowboys day and night, and a little more or less of this noise did not startle them.
"Fire did you say, Dave?" cried Mr. Carson, as he shook his blanket from him.
"Yes, Dad. Over there!"