“Look at that!” he shouted. “The fire has cut in ahead of us.”
Sandy was right. Not more than a quarter mile downstream, the fire was raging on both sides of the creek, and even as they looked, a large jack pine, flaming to the top of its highest branches, swayed suddenly in the wind and went crashing forward in a shower of sparks and burning embers.
Sick at heart, the two young adventurers stood for a short time, scarcely daring to think of their predicament. Apparently there was little chance of escape, the main body of the fire behind them, another fire sweeping ahead.
“We’ve got to get through,” Dick muttered. “We’ll have to take a chance, Sandy. The fire ahead hasn’t been burning long and it’s not as far through it—maybe not more than a hundred yards. Somehow, I feel certain that this creek will take us straight on to the Big Smokey where we left the canoe.”
Sandy’s face brightened a little. “I believe you’re right, Dick. If a burning tree or branch doesn’t fall on us, we can make it. We’ll have to wade right down through the center of the stream. If it gets too hot we can dive under the water. I’m going to take off my shirt, soak it in water and breathe with it around my head.”
“A good idea,” approved Dick. “I’ll do it too.”
A half hour later, two boys emerged, wet and blackened, from a cloud of smoke and flame and advanced painfully along the creek to a point where it emptied into the Big Smokey river. Behind them thundered the terrible conflagration, getting closer every moment. Moose, deer and caribou stood trembling at the river’s edge, or struck boldly out into the stream. The boys turned north and followed the river for a mile before they discovered the object they sought. It was daylight now, though the smoke made it difficult to see far. Yet the light, graceful Peterboro canoe, loaded with supplies, did not miss their searching eyes. As they pushed it into the river and climbed in, Dick Kent gave voice to a fervent exclamation.
“We made it, Sandy!” he exulted, as he dipped his paddle once more into the bosom of the Big Smokey.
Sandy was about to share Dick’s rejoicing, when the movements of a huge brown bear, which had splashed into the water behind them, attracted his attention. The bear was swimming straight for the canoe.
“Shove out quick!” cried Sandy suddenly, but too late.