Their situation was indeed terrible, and momentarily becoming more precarious. The fire, when first seen, was, at least, a mile off, but nearly equidistant from a point in the road the bridal party was traversing; and, as the conflagration swept down towards the road with a velocity equal to that of the travellers, it soon became evident that they would have barely time to pass the fire ere it swept across the road, thus cutting off all escape. Each saw this; but the females were now paralized with fear. Only the husband spoke.
“Faster, for God’s sake, faster,” he hoarsely cried, “see you not that the fire is making for yonder tall pine—we shall not be able to reach the tree first unless we go faster.”
“I will do my best,” said the brother, lashing still more furiously the foaming horses. “Oh! God, that I had turned back when Ellen wished me.”
On came the roaring fire—on in one mass of flame—on with a velocity that seemed only equalled by that of the flying hurricane. Now the flames caught the lower limbs of a tall tree and in an instant had hissed to its top—now they shot out their forky tongues from one huge pine to another far across the intermediate space—and now the whirling fire, whistled along the dry grass and moss of the swamp with a rapidity which the eye could scarcely follow. Already the fierce heat of the conflagration began to be felt by the travellers, while the horses, feeling the increase of warmth, grew restive and terrified. The peril momentarily increased. Hope grew fainter. Behind and on either side the conflagration roared in pursuit, while the advancing flame in front was cutting off their only avenue of escape. They were girdled by fire. Faster and quicker roared the flames towards the devoted party, until at length despair seized on the hearts of the travellers. Pale, paralized, silent, inanimate as statues, sat the females; while the husband and brother, leaning forward in the carriage and urging the horses to their utmost speed, gazed speechlessly on the approaching flames. Already the fire was within a hundred yards of the road ahead, and it seemed beyond human probability that the travellers could pass it in time. The husband gave one last agonizing glance at his inanimate wife. When again he looked at the approaching flames, he saw that during that momentary glimpse they had lessened their distance one half. He could already feel the hot breath of the fire on his cheek. The wind, too, suddenly whirled down with fiercer fury, and in an instant the forky tongues of the advancing conflagration had shot across the road, and entwined themselves around the tall pine which had been the goal of the travellers’ hopes. He sank back with a groan. But the brother’s eye gleamed wildly at the sight, and gathering the reins tighter around his hand, he made one last desperate effort to force the horses onward; and with one mad leap, they lifted the carriage from the ground as if it had been a plaything, plunged into the fiery furnace, and the next instant had shot through the pass.
Charnley gave one look backwards, as if to assure himself that they had indeed escaped—he saw the lurid mass of fire roaring and whirling across the spot through which they had darted but a moment before; and overcome with mingled gratitude and awe, he lowered his head on his breast and poured out an overflowing soul in thanksgivings to the Power which had saved them from the most dreadful of deaths. And long afterwards, men, who travelled through that charred and blackened forest, pointed to the memorable scene where these events occurred, and rehearsed the thrilling feelings of those who had been encompassed by the Girdle of Fire.
TO ——.
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BY GEORGE LUNT.
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