“Who’s hungry?” Sandy cried gleefully and sent his meat loaf and mashed potatoes soaring. As if at a signal, the other fire fighters who were eating in the grove followed suit.
“I can’t tell which it’s raining harder,” Quiz said, “gravy or water.”
Prince and a few other stray dogs who had attached themselves to the camp were having a field day, scampering around gobbling up the discarded food. The road was crowding up fast with men leaping about with their faces turned to the sky. This was a rain to end all rain. It was almost as if the sky had been filling up during all the weeks of the drought and finally had burst open like a balloon, dumping its whole reservoir onto the parched earth in one big splash.
Sandy saw men dancing together in a knee-deep rivulet running down a culvert at the side of the road. He saw one man scoop up a handful of mud and throw it at another man like a kid with a snowball.
Fire Boss Landers was standing by himself very quietly, his face turned up to the sky, and Sandy had a feeling that tears were running down his cheeks along with the raindrops.
Dick Fellows grabbed Sandy by the arm and pointed to a gigantic cloud almost a mile wide that was rising and spreading across the forest to the west.
“Smoke?” Sandy asked fearfully.
“Steam!” the ranger bawled happily. “What we couldn’t do in two days, nature has done in a matter of minutes. The fire’s done for.”
Sandy saw his uncle walking slowly in the direction of the headquarters tent. “Where are you going?” he called after him.
Russ turned and grinned back at them. “Don’t you guys know enough to come in out of the rain?”