“A little more and the wind will shift enough to bring the fire down into this valley. Once it’s here it will travel like a race horse and we’ll never reach safety,” he warned.
The director pointed to several heavy steel containers which held the last of the shots for “Water Hole.”
“Who’s going to lug those through the hills?” he demanded.
“We could take turns,” retorted Curt. “Here’s a better one. Are those cans watertight?” He shot the question at one of the cameramen.
“They’re safe enough, all right,” he replied.
“Then let’s fasten wires to the handles and lower them into the well here. If we have to run for it, we’ll not be bothered with these heavy containers and we’ll know the last shots are safe.”
Billy Fenstow agreed that Curt’s suggestion was an excellent one and they scattered in search of a coil of wire. One was found near the bunkhouse. It was fastened to one of the containers and the heavy steel receptacle was lowered into the well. The wire was cut and the upper end securely fastened to a timber. Then the operation was repeated, the second can being lowered until it reached the bottom of the well. Curt snipped the wire with a pair of pliers and fastened the end with the first one.
Janet had been watching the skyline intently. Perhaps she was simply over-wrought, but she felt sure that the crimson glow had brightened as though the fire was nearer their own valley.
“Watch the skyline,” she urged Helen. “See if the glow is brightening.”
Helen peered through the half-light. Then she shook her head.