The moment my husband and brother-in-law entered the house, the latter exclaimed,
“Moodie, the house is gone; save what you can of your winter stores and furniture.”
Moodie thought differently. Prompt and energetic in danger, and possessing admirable presence of mind and coolness when others yield to agitation and despair, he sprang upon the burning loft and called for water. Alas, there was none!
“Snow, snow; hand me up pailsful of snow!”
Oh! it was bitter work filling those pails with frozen snow; but Mr. T—— and I worked at it as fast as we were able.
The violence of the fire was greatly checked by covering the boards of the loft with this snow. More help had now arrived. Young B—— and S—— had brought the ladder down with them from the barn, and were already cutting away the burning roof, and flinging the flaming brands into the deep snow.
“Mrs. Moodie, have you any pickled meat?”
“We have just killed one of our cows, and salted it for winter stores.”
“Well, then, fling the beef into the snow, and let us have the brine.”
This was an admirable plan. Wherever the brine wetted the shingles, the fire turned from it, and concentrated into one spot.