Fire in the Woods / Illustrated

by James De Mille

XIX.

The black Place of Desolation.—Blue Sky.—Open Heavens.—The Glory of the Sunshine.—Green Hills.—The open Sea once more.—Along the Road.—A strange, a very strange Encounter.—The Wandering Leper.—Naaman the Syrian.
PANTING heavily, and almost fainting with exhaustion, Phil drifted on, clinging with a convulsive grasp to his log, and scarce conscious of his surroundings. It was the current that now guided him, for he for some time was incapable of making any effort to guide himself. Several times he instinctively thrust his head under the water; and each time, though this did not ease his breathing, it at least caused relief by the grateful coolness and the drip of the water over his face. Drifting on in this way, he remained for some time without noticing the shores on either side, too much taken up with his own sensations to regard any external things. He had a general idea that the fires were all around him still; but he no longer sought with his former eager scrutiny to find some signs favorable to his own hopes.

But at length he regained his breath, and began once more to look around. The first thing that he noticed was, that the heat had very materially lessened. The next thing was, that the land of the fiery glow had passed away. Around him there was now, not a fiery country, but a black and devastated country, out of which smoke was still arising in places, but from which the fire had departed, having done its work. He now saw that while he had been in a half senseless state he had been carried along; that the current had drifted him away from the place where the fire was now raging, to a place where it raged no longer—to a place where the air was cooler—where it was purer—where the smoke was much diminished. All around, and all before, the country was black, and there arose a forest of charred and blackened trees; but this sight, hideous though it might be in itself, was inexpressibly delightful to eyes that had just gazed upon the fire in its wrath.

He began to understand his position now. This was the very thing that he had hoped for when first he ventured to make the passage. His hope had been realized. The fire was advancing up the stream. He had passed the front line of flame, the second line of fire, and now reached the blackened and desolate tract that lay in the rear of the conflagration. Here the hot breath of the fire existed no longer. Here the air was purer—it grew cooler at every yard of his progress forward.

It was, probably, this cooler air that had revived him, and given him back the breath that he had nearly lost forever at that time of his struggle near the falling tree.

He looked up. The smoke was thinner overhead. Before him the skies were brighter, and in one place the glorious blue of heaven was discernible. It was the first bit of blue sky that he had seen since first he entered these ill-omened woods; and it seemed to him to be the harbinger of safety, and liberty, and life. His whole soul roused itself in joyous hope; the last vestige of his dismay and despondency departed, and even his weakness and bodily languor left him. He gave a cry of joy; he breathed a prayer of thankfulness to the merciful One who had preserved him from a terrible fate; and then, grasping his float with a strong and nervous clutch, he once more put forth his efforts to quicken his progress, and struck out with strong and rapid strokes.

Every moment his prospects increased. The smoke faded away more and more, and the blue sky unfolded itself, until at last the glorious sun burst forth to view, and threw upon him those bright and gladdening rays to which he had been a stranger for so many days. There came up also a breeze, and it fanned his flushed face, bringing healing on its wings; and as he inhaled it there seemed in it something which was like a new life, something which gave new strength and energy to the body, and new joy and hope to the soul. At last he could breathe freely. The air had lost all that oppressiveness which it had so long had. No longer was there perceptible the abhorrent smell of smoke. He had emerged from the fire and the smoke, and wherever he was, he had at least left these things behind. He had no idea where he was, or whither he was going; it was enough for him to know that he had escaped from the fire and the woods.

He had been long in the water, but he had no desire to leave it. The land was not inviting, while his present mode of progress was easy and agreeable. He chose, therefore, to drift on until he should reach some place where he might rest.

At length there appeared before him something green. It looked like the foliage of trees. It rose above the black land and the charred stumps of the burnt district, and seemed to be some place which the fire had not reached. Was it some green oasis in this desert of devastation, or was it some new forest as boundless, as uninhabited, and as desolate as the one in which he had been lost? At that moment it mattered not to him what it was, so long as it was some place that was free from the touch of fire.

Onward he drifted, and the stream took a turn, and swept forward. Here the green foliage appeared full before him. It was of no great extent. Beyond it there was no vast forest, but only the sky. It seemed as though in one place there might be a broad plain, so low did it lie, and so open was it, and bare of trees. This place he watched with the most eager scrutiny. To this he came nearer and nearer. The space broadened every moment, until at last he thought that it must indeed be a wide plain—if plain it was.