The Boy Scouts in the Maine Woods Part 26

One thing was plain enough, and this seemed apt to have more or less bearing on the final outcome of their race to the cabin.

The wind was gradually increasing in force all the while. It had been gentle at first, but was now blowing at the rate of ten miles an hour, and Thad could notice how rapidly even this was changing.

Should it reach hurricane force ere long, the fire must be driven ahead at a speed that would be simply frightful. Thad already began to experience some of the thrill he had been told was connected with one of these woods' fires; even though as yet he had to see the first flash of flame. What must it be when surrounded on all sides by the leaping tongues that, they said, looked like great red snakes coiling up the pine trees, licking the resinous foliage with greedy breath, so that it seemed as though the whole world must be ablaze?

Well, the boy had wanted to look upon just such a sight, so that he could say he had been caught in a forest fire; and from the way things were turning out, his wish was in a fair way to be gratified.

They must surely have come about a mile since he last asked Jim how far away the cabin might be; that would indicate half of the distance had been pa.s.sed over. He wondered why Jim did not start running, so as to beat the fire, that was apparently aiming for the same place; but on second thought Thad believed he could guess the reason for this. Jim was saving their wind for an emergency. If that came upon them, they might have to change their own course, and head for the pond Jim had spoken of as offering a fair haven of refuge in a case of this kind.

The roaring sound had grown more audible. It sounded now very much like a freight train on the railroad, Thad thought; and drawing closer all the while! This would seem to indicate that the fire was catching up with them, and shortening the gap between at the same time.

Thad began to cast curious glances in the direction of the ominous sound; nor could it be said that anxiety was not unmixed with his other feelings. He was but a boy, after all; and even by now the dark ma.s.ses of smoke that were sweeping over the pine tops, as well as the other indications of a great conflagration around him, had begun to affect Thad.

And as they pushed along it chanced that they came to a little break in the wall of pines that rose around them. For the first time the Boy Scout saw, when he turned his head toward the right, and the rear, something that seemed to leap madly upwards, as though endeavoring to lick the overhanging clouds.

There was no need of Thad to ask the guide what that was, for he knew only too well. Those leaping, tossing billows were flames; and they sealed the death warrant of many a n.o.ble pine that for years and years had seen the lovely summer come and go, to give place to the furious gales of the Maine winter season.

And Thad Brewster experienced a real genuine thrill, that might be tinged with alarm, as he viewed this fiery panorama over the tops of the trees.

CHAPTER XXVI.

TRUSTING TO THE WOODS' PILOT.

It was by this time getting about as exciting as anything Thad had ever dreamed of. The noise made by the sweeping flames began to din in his ears as he had never expected to hear the roar of fire.

Still, he noticed that Jim had not changed his course much. Plainly then, he was heading for the cabin of Cale Martin, and had not yet given up hopes of being able to make it.

Only for the intense desire of the guide to please his Lina, doubtless he would ere now have changed his flight, and headed for that pond, where they could be certain of finding security. Thad only hoped Jim would not be tempted to take too many chances, in his endeavor to accomplish the reconciliation.

So the boy began to strain his eyes, looking ahead, hoping that any minute they would sight the lonely home of the late poacher, who had turned fox farmer.

The fire could now be seen more plainly than ever, and Thad noted how the wind seemed to carry all manner of whirling sparks far ahead, to set the dead pine needles ablaze in turn; so that there was an ever marching procession, as fresh patches of woods fell into the grip of the flames.

Something went squealing past them, almost upsetting Thad.

"Good gracious, wasn't that a pig?" he exclaimed, startled by the sight.

Jim nodded his head, as he replied:

"Cale's pig. Let's 'em hev ther run o' ther woods sumtimes. But he'll never see that porker agin. It'll sure be roasted ter a turn, I guess naow."

"What next, I wonder?" thought Thad, as he heard, rather than saw, several frightened partridges go sweeping past.

All these things served to add a certain element of spice to the situation, although Thad really believed it hardly needed anything to make it seem the most exciting in all his experience.

Well, at any rate, Jim had certainly thought it wise to increase his speed now, so that he was running fairly fast, considering the difficulties that lay in the way of making good time.

When Thad came upon a broken-down rail fence, he knew they must be close in the neighborhood of the cabin; and at the same time he thought that it was well this was the case, because contact with the fire could not long have been delayed.

A minute later, and he sighted the side of the cabin. As Jim had said, it stood in comparatively open ground; but the brush had grown up again, owing to lack of care when the owner lost interest in the home that no longer knew the presence of Little Lina.

A couple of low sheds could also be seen near by; but even to Thad's uneducated eye it was plainly apparent that if the fire worked this way, everything was bound to go. Cale Martin may have escaped by reason of his energy before, on other occasions, but this would wind his place up.

There was no sign of any human being around. Jim seemed to look to the right and to the left with more or less eagerness. Plainly he was disappointed because he did not see the giant poacher somewhere. He hurried over to one of the low sheds, and as Thad followed close after him, he saw that there was an enclosure made of chicken wire, in which several red foxes were running furiously back and forth, as though conscious of their peril, and wild to get out and escape.

"He cain't be here!" Jim called out, for the fire was really so noisy now that it required more or less of an effort to make one's self heard.

"Why not?" asked Thad.

"'Cause he'd never let them foxes stay in thar. Cale, he's human, ef he used ter be a hard case; an' knowin' ther fire'd like as not git 'em if they stayed cooped up, he'd sure broke the wire fence daown so's ter let 'em run."

Saying which Jim deliberately did this himself, tearing up a stake, and in almost the twinkling of an eye making a big hole, through which the four red foxes shot like lightning. The last seen of them, the shrewd little animals were flying away into the woods that as yet had not felt the scorching breath of the fire.

"Will they escape, Jim?" asked Thad, unable to repress his desire for knowledge, even while facing such a scene of havoc as this.

"Sure they will," grunted the guide, who was already turning hastily in the direction of the cabin.

The thought struck Thad just then that perhaps something had happened to the big owner of the place. He might be found there, sick, and unable to move hand or foot. In that case a new problem would have to be faced, and a solution worked out.

But no matter what happened, they could not remain here long. The fire was edging around, and working in toward Cale's cabin. In ten minutes, perhaps not so long a time as that, it would have swept over this territory, and gone roaring and leaping into the woods beyond.

Now they were at the door of the cabin. It was shut, and there was no evidence that Cale was within. Jim did not hesitate a second. He knew this was a time for action rather than thinking; and so he immediately started to push open the door.

Fortunately this did not seem to be fastened in any way, so the guide had no trouble to speak of in doing what he desired.

Then Jim rushed inside, and Thad followed closely after him.

One glance around seemed to tell them that the cabin was empty. It was a cheerless looking place, according to the mind of the boy, accustomed as he was to the comforts of a good home in a civilized community. But no doubt it had been "home" to Cale Martin, up to the time the light of it was taken away by young Jim Hasty.

The guide pointed to a small photograph that was fastened to the wall.

It was not a work of art by any means, and evidently represented the labor of some aspiring village photographer; but as Thad bent hastily over to examine it, in a couple of seconds, he saw that it was the face of a very sweet looking girl.

And he did not need to be told that he was looking on the face of Little Lina, Jim's wife, and the only child of the lonely poacher, Old Cale Martin.

"He isn't here, Jim. What will we do now? Do you have any idea where he's gone?" the boy demanded, in his excitement clutching at the sleeve of the guide's coat.

"I kin give a guess, 'baout it," replied Jim. "Seems like he keeps a litter o' foxes sumwhar off in ther woods; an' chances air the ole man, he's risked his life tew git out thar, an' set 'em free so's they cud 'scape. 'Twud be jest like him tew dew thet same thing."

"Hark! I thought I heard a shout!" exclaimed Thad.

Both of them listened anxiously; Jim even hurrying toward the open door; but before he could reach it, a huge form darkened the opening, and a man came staggering in.

Thad knew that he was looking upon Cale Martin, long feared by every man in the pine woods of Northern Maine. But to tell the truth he did not look very formidable now; for his beard was singed, his face blackened, and his clothes smouldering in patches, as though he might have been compelled to run the gauntlet of fire in returning from his self-imposed errand of mercy in connection with the impounded fox whelps.

He stared hard at them as though he could not just believe his senses.