Janet stopped and sniffed the air. The odor of smoke seemed stronger now, yet there was no visible sign of it.
Helen also smelled it, for the wind, if anything, was sharper now.
“If there’s a fire burning somewhere near here, it might be bad for us,” she said. “This dry grass and underbrush would burn like tinder.”
“That’s what Curt fears,” added Janet.
They stopped to rest once more before they started the final ascent to the rocky outcropping from which they hoped to be able to survey the entire surrounding country.
As they started up the final slope, the smell of the smoke became stronger. Looking back into the valley where the bus was stalled, Janet could see the men in the company all grouped around the front end. It was evident that the trouble had not been repaired. Some distance from the bus a lone figure was striding along the trail, evidently bound for the nearest ranch or village where he could telephone for another bus and a repair crew.
They toiled up the last few yards to the summit of the promontory and reached it only to drop down in an open space, gasping for breath, for the last part of the climb had been arduous.
A sharp cry from Helen drew Janet’s attention away from the bus, which now seemed far down in the valley.
“There’s fire burning in that further valley,” cried Helen, an involuntary note of alarm in her voice.
Janet turned quickly and gazed in the direction Helen was pointing. Her companion was right. There was fire in one of the distant valleys. From their elevation they could see a low, creeping wave of smoke shot through with an occasional tongue of flame.