"I can't, I can't," she cried, with sobbing breath. "I can't run another yard."
"You'll get your second wind in a minute," said Jack, almost in despair. "Look here!"—sinking on to his knees. "Climb up, climb up I say. I'll carry you on my back," and almost before she knew what he did he had hoisted her on to his shoulders, but with all the will in the world it was only for a very short distance that he could carry her. The perspiration was dripping from his head and face, and Eva saw it and knew he was nearly played out.
"Let me down," she said, struggling to free herself. "My breath is coming back. I'll run again now."
"All right," Jack said, slipping her gently to the ground. "Keep your pecker up! We shall beat the old fire yet! D'you see that it's coming up slowly this way and turning away from where Woodlands is yonder? Another few minutes, if we can keep up the pace, we'll be out of its reach," so half walking, half running, they hurried on again, casting fearful glances backwards and around to see if the flames were gaining ground. Presently Jack threw up his arms with a wild hurrah.
"We're through, Eva, we're through all right! I hear the cries of the beaters fighting back the flames," and true enough, at some distance from them were the farmer and his sons and a neighbour or two who had hurried to the rescue, beating back the flames which, snake-like, were creeping insidiously along towards the farmer's crops.
All danger of being surrounded now by the fire was over, and the wayworn travellers proceeded more leisurely to the homestead, which was close at hand, but as Jack's fingers wrestled with the latch of the gate, he found them trembling so much as to be almost beyond control. They were scarcely inside it, before Mrs. Butler and Jessie, who stood watching the progress of the fire in the verandah, recognised them and hurried down to meet them.
"Jack! Eva!" cried Jessie, and the surprise in her tone was even greater than Eva had pictured it, but the poor child was far too worn out with fatigue and excitement to understand anything but that she was with friends and in a place of safety. She threw out her arms to Jessie with a little cry, and the next moment was sobbing her very heart out on her shoulder.
"But where do you come from?" asked Mrs. Butler, looking down on Jack's quivering face.
"From Wylmington Falls. We came up there—a lot of us—for a picnic, and it suddenly came into our heads, Eva's and mine, that we'd walk on and pay you a surprise visit, but we've been racing the fire, and she's about done for."
"Poor lamb! Give her to me," said Mrs. Butler, stretching out her arms for Eva. "The child is half dead with terror and fatigue. We'll put her to bed at once, and she'll sleep it off."