“I am coming to that, and—”
“Then the question seems to be, how much time have we to get out of the way of this fire?” questioned Grace.
The guide said that neither he nor any one else could answer that question.
“A forest fire is a sneaking demon,” he declared. “Sometimes one sees no fire at all, then again it seems as if the whole universe were ablaze. As a rule, persons who are caught in forest fires never realize it until the fire has leaped upon them. This fire, so far, is the kind you do see. Look up!”
All eyes were turned upwards. They saw that the sky was covered with a yellow haze. The haze seemed low. Birds were winging their way northward, flying swiftly, and there were rustlings farther out in the forest, and sounds of unseen creatures hurrying.
“I wish Tom were here,” breathed Grace. Tom Gray, her much-loved husband, now a well-known forestry engineer, was somewhere off in that vast forest, making a survey for the government. Grace uttered a fervent prayer for his safety.
“I believe the fire is still some hours away, but the breeze is in our direction, and bids fair to hold all day. By striking off to the eastward and making good time, we have an excellent chance of getting to higher rocky ground where we shall probably be safe,” was the guide’s prediction.
“Alors! Let’s go,” urged J. Elfreda Briggs, with a touch of her old-time lightness of spirit.
“That is what I am getting at. I can direct you so that you folks ought to make it, but I dislike leaving you,” added Mr. White.
“Leaving us!” exclaimed Emma.