"All I know is that we are in luck to have this blessed old river handy," said Frank, with more or less feeling in his voice, as he watched the fire flash from tree to tree in pursuing its course.
"Yes, it's a queer world. Only a few days ago it came near ending my life up at the cataract, and now it makes amends by saving it," remarked Jerry.
"The fire doesn't seem to jump across the river," observed Will.
"No; and I don't think it will, unless the wind changes quickly," said Frank.
"But it seems bound to get to our camp inside of an hour or two. What d'ye suppose they'll do with all the duffle?" inquired Bluff uneasily.
"
I'm not worried about that. Mr. Mabie will scent trouble a long way off, and find a refuge among the rocks, if necessary; but I'm inclined to think the fire will never get to him," replied Frank.
"Do you believe the wind will shift, then, and blow back on us?" asked Will.
"I'm not a wind prophet. What I had in mind was that the fire would be put out before it got three miles from here."
"Put out! Do you mean to say they've a fire department up here?" demanded Will.