He slew an ox with his knife, and quickly removed the hide. The people looked upon him with horror; they thought him demented. What was he doing? What was he going to do?
He tied the great hide to his horse's neck, so that the raw side of it would drag flat upon the ground, and, turning to Jasper, he said:
"That will smother fire. Ho! ho! How?"
The fire was fast approaching some stacks of wheat on the edge of the settlement. Waubeno saw the peril, and leaped upon his horse.
"Kill more cattle. Get more hides for Waubeno," he said.
He rode away toward the stacks, guiding the horse in such a way that the raw hide swept the ground. The people watched him. He seemed to ride into the fire.
"He is riding to death!" said the people. "He is mad!"
But as he rode the fire was stayed, and a rim of black smoke rose in its stead. Near the stacks the fire stopped.
"He is the Evil One himself," said the old Millerite. "That Indian boy is no human form."
Out of the black came the horse plunging, bearing the boy, who waved his hands to the people. Then the horse plunged away, as though wild, toward the outer edge of the great sea of fire.