Bill Bruce on Forest Patrol

by Henry Harley Arnold

Bill grabbed the front cross brace wires, stooped down and kicked the fan. He felt the safety wires break and knew that the fan was loose. The plane then went into an even steeper climb. Bill hoped that the old Liberty engine would keep on reliably pumping its four hundred horsepower into that propeller. He also hoped that the plane would maintain its present speed until he could get his hand on the stick again.

The plane was just staggering through the air. Any increase in the flying angle would surely send it into a spin. Bill started back toward the cockpit and in his hurry slipped on the smooth laminated wood which protected the wing surface. He caught himself in time to keep from slipping off, but lost several seconds. Once more he started moving back to the cockpit. If he could only make it before the spin started. A DH in a spin takes a considerable altitude to come out. Sometimes they do not come out regardless of the altitude at which they are flying. Bill had a scant two thousand feet when he started to climb out of the cockpit the first time. He had lost some altitude since that.

Could he get there in time to save the ship?

CHAPTER XXV—THE END OF THE FIRE SEASON

Bill lost no time in getting back into the pilot’s seat. He caught the plane as it was falling off onto one wing. By skillful manipulation of the controls, he changed the movement into a nose dive. He knew that they were now safe. A short drop and they would regain flying speed. The plane went down into the dive, gradually picking up speed, and soon Bill pulled it out into a level position and they were flying along normally. Once more they were headed toward Glenbrook, where they could check their radio.

They hopped over a few timber-covered foothills and the town of Glenbrook came into view. It was not much of a town, but a branch line of the railroad followed a small stream and terminated there. The forest headquarters was easily picked out on account of the panel already stretched out on the ground. Earl had started sending with the radio as soon as Bill had regained control of the plane. Bill picked up the O. K. panel and dipped his plane in greeting to the amateur operator who he knew would be watching from below.

Bill knew that the radio operator would immediately send word to the foresters waiting at Elam and Adler that the plane was on its way. He turned his plane to skirt Buck Peak and then crossed Beaver Creek. Here he saw the first of the fires, which were still burning and which circumstantial evidence indicated had been lighted by the firebug. Beaver Creek had proved too great a natural barrier for the fire to cross. To the south and southwest there was nothing to check its path, and it had spread rapidly in that direction. The fight made by the crew on the ground to bar its progress was clearly shown from the scene of desolation extending below them.

The fire had evidently started on a comparatively narrow front. Then the strong wind had spread it out over a broad area. The fire crew had attempted to stop it along the crest of a ridge, and had almost succeeded, for the width was appreciably narrowed down to almost a point. Then on account of the lack of men, or for some other reason, the fire had surged through that narrow opening and spread to an even wider area than before. From the viewpoint of the airmen, it looked as if that fire had almost been guided by human hands.

Sensing that it was hemmed in on all sides, the fire had taken advantage of that one small unguarded strip and had broken through with an irresistible rush, burning fiercer than ever. Bill and Earl could see the crew working ahead of the fire. These men were backfiring, making fire breaks, standing by natural barriers and doing everything humanly possible to vanquish that fire monster. Forest fires always left an indelible impression on Bill’s mind. They seemed to him to be magnificent and awe-inspiring on account of their relentlessness and the apparent unlimited power, but at the same time they were terrifying as he saw the area of complete destruction which followed in their wake. Thus, in a few minutes’ time, timber which had taken hundreds of years to mature was completely effaced, deliberately, or through carelessness by the hand of man.

Bill did not pause in his flight on account of the fire, but traveled along at his hundred-mile an hour pace. He picked up a second and then a third fire. He thought that the third fire might be the one near which they would find the firebug and looked around at Earl for instructions. Earl waved him on.