Fire in the Woods / Illustrated

by James De Mille

As he went on the brook grew gradually larger, and at length ran into a stream very much larger than itself, large enough, in fact, to deserve the name of river. This Phil saw with delight; for he saw in this the hope of encountering the haunts of men. As he looked down the course of this river, which here afforded a much wider opening in the forest than he had yet seen, he was struck by the density of the smoke clouds, and the peculiar character of the atmosphere. The sight inspired him with far stronger fears than any which he had hitherto known. Thus far he had considered the fire as arising from some one spot, and had thought of being able to evade it, even if he should reach the place where it might be burning; but now he began to feel as though the fires were all around him, rolling forward from every side towards him, and sending an advance march of smoke to bewilder him and lead him astray. This thought gave him a momentary pang, and a transitory feeling of despair crossed his mind. But this weakness was only short-lived. It soon passed, and his buoyancy of soul and sanguine temperament reasserted themselves.

At length, as he went along by the river side, he noticed, to his deep regret, that the pine woods ended, and were succeeded by a forest like that which he had traversed on the first day of his wandering. What was worse, it could not be avoided. He could not walk along the river bank, for it was lined with trees and shrubbery. He could not walk in its bed, for it was too deep. There was therefore nothing left to do but to make his way through the woods the best way that he could.

On entering these woods, the change was unpleasant in the extreme. It was necessary for him to keep near the river, and in order to do this he had to encounter without shrinking all the obstacles that lay in his way. He did not dare now to attempt to go round any of them, or to make short cuts, for he was afraid that if he got out of sight of the water once, he would never be able to find it again; and, therefore, at all hazards, and at every cost, he determined to keep it within sight.

These new efforts soon exhausted him, and he was forced to sit down and try to recover himself. As he sat there gasping, there seemed to be a more intense warmth in the air, a dry, torrid heat, a suffocating closeness, which was, far worse than it had been yet. He felt that under these circumstances his progress would be small indeed. He had only one thought now, and that was, to recover from his heat and exhaustion; and to do this he knew of only one thing, which was—a plunge in the water.

Tearing off his clothes now, he flung himself in the water, and felt once more its reviving influence. At this moment a new idea occurred to him, which filled him again with hope. It was, that he should remain in the river, and go on as he was, carrying his clothes with him. At this rate his progress would be far more rapid than it had just been; and he would be far less liable to feel fatigue. Acting upon this suggestion, he rolled his clothes up into as small a bundle as possible, but kept his boots on his feet, so as to walk without difficulty over the sharp sticks or stones that he might encounter; and now, slinging his bundle behind his back, he went on, walking near one of the banks, in water that was about up to his waist. His progress was certainly not very fast; but the plan was highly satisfactory, since he no longer suffered so much from that intense exhaustion to which he had been subject while forcing his way through the tangled brushwood. But at length he found himself assailed by myriads of mosquitos, and this infliction became so intolerable that he had to go into the deeper water of the mid-channel. Here, however, his progress was slow, and carrying his bundle was a great trouble.

Suddenly he saw a log lying near the shore, entangled among the brushwood. It was of cedar, and looked as though it had been cut for a telegraph pole. This at once offered him an easy and agreeable mode of progress, which was in every possible way superior to anything that he had yet tried. Walking towards it, he drew it out, and then placing it before him he bound his bundle upon it. He now pushed it in front of him, down the stream, and clinging to it, he struck out after it, sometimes swimming, sometimes walking. So buoyant was the log that it easily sustained his weight; and the complete success of this contrivance made Phil determine to make the rest of his journey in this way. So he once more stopped, and taking off his boots, bound them upon the log also. He was now divested of all his clothing, keeping on only his hat, which was useful both against the heat and the flies; and thus prepared, he once more pushed his log before him, and seeking the centre of the stream, began to move slowly down. The water here was now over his head; and the current was running at the rate of about three miles an hour. A very slight effort on his part served to increase his motion to a rate which was faster than any which he had been able to make yet; and he found himself going onward in a way in which he was able at once to secure both speed and coolness.

The musquitos were troublesome from time to time, but not continuously; and these he was able to evade by plunging his head under, hat and all, after which plunge the drip of the water from his hat about his head seemed both to cool him and to repel his assailants.

He now floated along, and was thus borne onward by the river, with many a turn and winding, amidst the forest. On either side arose the trees,—dark, solemn, and silent, for not a sound of any kind could be heard. The birds which usually made the forest vocal with their melody had fled to other places. In that torrid and smoky atmosphere there was no place for these children of song. Phil, as he floated in the cool current of the river, felt himself withdrawn completely from the heat and the smoke; but as he looked up he saw enough to make him feel grateful that he was where he was—that he had found a stream deep enough to sustain him in its waters, and swift enough to carry him onward without any severe exertion on his part. The smoke lowered darkly and menacingly overhead, and before him, where the river ran, it seemed accumulated in gloomier and denser masses. The air seemed even hotter, and as he at times plunged his head under the waters, he rejoiced to think that he had so near him such a perpetual remedy for heat and exhaustion.

He had now been in the stream for some hours, when at length he noticed a rising ground before him. It was a hill of no very great height, rounded and covered with trees; but behind this there seemed to be an agitation among the smoke clouds, as though there was concealed there the unseen cause of all these stifling vapors that filled the skies. This place Phil began to watch with deep interest and curiosity. He did not feel fear, for in his present position he did not anticipate any danger; but he expected that at this place he would reach what might be the climax of his adventures. The only real fear that he had was, not from fire, but from the water itself. He was apprehensive that he might come to a cataract, or to rapids. This danger certainly did not seem very imminent, or very probable, for the country was generally of too level a character to allow of waterfalls; but Phil thought of this as his only possible danger, and was consequently always on the lookout. Now, therefore, as he saw this accumulation of clouds, and the agitation that prevailed there, he did not perceive anything that could immediately affect him, and so he felt no terror.

The river had a winding course; and though it drew nearer and nearer to this hill, yet it approached it slowly, and by gradual advances. At length, on taking a turn round one of its bends, Phil could see that the hill was on the left bank, and that he would soon reach it, and pass round it in the next turn of the stream. Full of curiosity, he now drifted along, and waited for the next prospect that would be opened up behind the hill.