“It’s what the boys have been up against for hours,” Captain Frey said quietly. “We’ll be out of it in a moment.”
As Florence looked at the captain she thought, “Efficient, brave!”
Then a spectacle of the great fire caught her eye, and she gasped with astonishment. One moment a great fifty-foot, moss-covered spruce tree stood proudly against the sky, the next, with a loud roar, flames rushed from its roots to the topmost branch. “Alight, like a giant candle,” Florence exclaimed, “and there are thousands of them on the island!” “Yes,” the young captain replied. “Close to our camp they stand some distance apart. If only we can wet down the earth about the camp, keep the fire from creeping, then turn the hose on it when it comes, we’ll win.”
“And we will,” Dave exclaimed. “We’ve got a marvelous pump. If only—”
“If only you can get in close enough.” The captain stood up and stared ahead. “How large is this boat?”
“Sixty feet long, by twenty wide.”
“Good!” the captain replied. “I’m sure there is room. The water along the shore is deep, thirty feet. A little way out are shoals.”
“We’ll slide right in there near shore,” Dave took the wheel.
“It’s a close little berth,” he said five minutes later, as Rufus, their young engineer, suddenly put the engine into reverse. “Rocks before us, rocks to right and left. It’s like cruising in a bath tub.”
They dropped anchor, let down their lifeboat, sent the hose ashore, then started the pump. At once a powerful stream of water was busy soaking down the dry, moss-covered earth. At times it set up a terrific sizzling sputter, as it played on a tree that had just caught fire.