"We thought that we wouldn't see you fellows again," said Tom. "You must have been through it, the way you look."
"Come, boys," said the captain, "the first thing for us to do is to get above the fire line and camp. We thought we had lost Santa. How did you get him?"
"He got us," I answered.
"It's all right now. He went off on a trail of his own," commented the captain. "I'm glad that he located you."
We now proceeded up the mountain on the back trail, the captain in the lead. After a while daylight came and it showed a scene of desolation below us. The blackened trees, some standing, thousands fallen, the pallid smoke rising from mountain slopes and curling out of deep canyons.
Above us, however, was a brighter prospect, for below the snow fields were the unscarred pines and the ravines where were the clear streams.
After an hour's hard climb we were among the trees with bushes, and here and there bunches of grasses and of flowers. It seemed like paradise to our fire scorched eyes. We made our camp in a wide ravine, near a pleasant stream.
"Well, this is jolly," said Jim. "I am glad to have a chance to wash my features and comb my hair."
We took the saddles off our tired horses and it was a pleasure to see how they took it. The fire was made and once more we were united around the old campfire.
Depend upon it, we had a long talk and the captain told of his efforts to help us. He and Tom had spent several hours in making their preparations. Below the ridge at a distance of three hundred yards or more apart they had placed inflammable pitch pine in dry brush and timber.