The burning and smouldering brands showered upon them. Bushes broke out into flame in advance, and on either side of the path. It was as though the combustion was spontaneous.
With a roaring like the charge of a field of artillery, a great mass of flame flew high over their heads. The tall trees were on fire on all sides. They were in the heart of the conflagration!
Joseph Stagg had lost all count of time. The forest road might still extend ahead of them for a mile, for all he knew.
But suddenly they broke cover, Cherry still galloping wildly, and plunged down an open ravine to the edge of a lake of sparkling water.
“Bless me! The lake! the lake!” hoarsely shouted the man.
The walls of the ravine sheltered them from smoke and fire for a moment, but the brands still fell. Cherry had halted on the edge of the lake, but Joseph Stagg urged him on into the water, flank deep. The shore was narrow and afforded little space for refuge. He lifted Amanda and the child bodily from the seat and dropped them into the water.
“We’re safe now,” he said hoarsely, jumping in himself, and holding Carolyn May and Amanda. “We’ve got water enough here, thanks be! Hang on to me, Mandy. I’m not going to let you get away—no more, never!”
And by the way in which the woman clung to his arm it was evident that she did not propose to lose him.
They looked back at the roaring wall of flame. The forest was a seething furnace. Smoke drifted out over the lake in a heavy cloud. Dead embers showered about them. Prince rolled and burrowed in the damp sand at the edge of the water. Cherry filled his throat with a long, cool, satisfying draught.
“My, Uncle Joe! you are just the bravest man!” declared Carolyn May, finding her voice. “Isn’t he, Miss Mandy? And, see, his arm is all burned. Dear me, we must get home to Aunty Rose and let her do it up for him.”