Jack, the Fire Dog

by Lily F. Wesselhoeft

Jack had been thinking the same thing himself, so he got up and went in to his bed in the harness-room. The heavy door was rolled to and locked, and the man went upstairs to his room on the floor above.

A night-watchman is usually employed where valuable horses are kept, and usually there was one on Mr. Ledwell’s place, but for the past two nights he had been at his home ill from a cold, and the premises were left unguarded.

Jack curled up in his comfortable bed, listening for a while to the heavy steps of the men overhead, the occasional stamping from the horses’ stalls, or the rattling of their halter chains against their iron mangers; to the occasional nestling of the pups as they stirred in their sleep and crowded one another in their attempts to obtain more room; to the rising wind that shook the drooping boughs of the big elm outside. It was very pleasant to listen to these sounds from his comfortable bed in the harness-room, and, while listening to them, Jack fell asleep. He had acquired the habit of sleeping with one ear open during his old life in the engine-house, and the habit was so firmly rooted that it would never leave him. This night he awoke every few minutes, starting at every sound. Once he jumped to his feet, dreaming that he was in the old engine-house, and that the gong had just struck.

It was no gong, however, but only the sharp noise made by one of the horses as he gave his halter chain a sudden jerk, and Jack was wide awake now and listening with all his might.

What makes the Fire-Dog so restless, and why does he keep his keen nose up in the air, sniffing so eagerly, then suddenly start to his feet and run about the floor of the large stable, peering in at every corner and cranny, and then with a whine dart up the staircase leading to the floor above? The wire door used in summer time swings inward, and as Jack bounds against it, it flies open and he stands inside. It is a good-sized room with two beds in it, the occupants fast asleep.

There is no doubt now as to what brought Jack here. A decided smell of smoke pervades the room, increasing every moment, oozing through the crevices of the partition which separates this room from the lofts beyond, where the hay is stored. The turned-down lamp that is always kept lighted at night, in case of a sudden call, shows dimly through the gathering haze, and the Fire-Dog knows that there is not a moment to lose. With one leap he stands by the side of the man who let him into the stable a few hours before. He is fast asleep, and Jack’s loud barks only cause him to stir and turn over in his sleep. But the Fire-Dog has not been brought up in an engine-house for nothing, and he knows the horrors of a fire at night. He now pounces upon the heavy sleeper, pawing him frantically with his strong paws, while his loud barking is shrill with the warning he tries so hard to express.

He succeeds at last in rousing the heavy sleeper and at the same time the occupants of the other bed. They take in the situation at once, and in an instant are on their feet. They snatch up some articles of clothing and run for the stairs, putting them on as they go. The rolling door is thrown open, and their voices send out the startling cry of “Fire! Fire!”

The loud cry is borne on the night air to the stable beyond, where the farm-horses and cows are kept, and where other men are sleeping, and there the alarm is taken up and sent on to the house, where the family are fast asleep.

There is nothing that arouses one more suddenly and fills one with more alarm than the cry of “Fire!” in the middle of the night. In a few minutes all the people living on the place are aroused. The alarm is sounded for the only engine in town, but what can one engine a mile distant accomplish when a stable filled with hay is on fire?