In their haste to start cooking, they were not as careful as they might have been in building their fire, and they made considerable smoke. Before they were half done eating, a man appeared farther up the run, advancing through the pines at great speed. He seemed to be in a big hurry until he caught sight of the two boys as they sat on the dry pine-needles. After that he came forward at an ordinary gait.
"Good-morning, boys," he said pleasantly, as he drew near. Then, catching sight of their rods, he added, "If you came to get fish, you struck a mighty poor place."
"It used to be the best place for trout I ever saw," replied Lew. "This brook used to be full of 'em--big ones, too. But the season has been so dry, the brook has almost disappeared."
"You mean that the fires that have swept this valley have burned it up," replied the stranger.
"It's too awful a thing to joke about," replied Lew.
"A joke!" exclaimed the stranger, frowning.
"It's the literal truth--and a most terrible truth, at that."
"I don't understand," said Lew, slowly. "How can fire burn water? I supposed the lack of snow last winter and of rain this spring had made the brook shrink."
"Not for a minute, young man, not for a minute. If fires hadn't swept this valley the past two or three years, there would have been plenty of water in the run, rain or no rain."
"I--I don't exactly understand," said Lew hesitatingly.