“You are just in time,” said Simmons. “I am sending out a crew to try and limit the southern movement of the fire. Have either of you ever fought a forest fire before?”

“Neither one of us,” replied Bill.

“You’ll soon learn,” said Simmons. “Most tenderfeet coming up here for a vacation find it rather hard work and soon tire out, but you will be a help as long as you last.”

Simmons turned and Bill noticed three other men standing by.

“Sam,” called Simmons, “you can take these two youngsters and do that job. I will send those other men over to help Ridley.”

“This is Sam Crouch,” said Simmons as Crouch came toward them. “He will be in charge of you. All that you have to do is to follow his instructions. You had better get going, Sam.”

“Go over to that pile of tools and get another shovel,” said Sam. “One axe ought to do for both of you.”

They started out down the side of the ridge. Sam Crouch had a shovel, some gunny-sacks and an axe; Bill was carrying the same load. Bob followed along with a shovel. Bill was rather put out that he had been called a tenderfoot. He was determined that he would show them that he had the strength and endurance of any of these so-called woodsmen. He would show them when they started to work on the fire.

Crouch soon left the trail and struck directly through the woods. He walked with a long swinging stride that covered ground rapidly. Bill found that it took everything that he had to keep up. The bushes were up to their necks. The branches caught the shovels and axes, but Sam never slowed down a bit.

The footing was none too good. They were going down hill and the pine needles were slippery. When they were not traveling on the needles, they were forcing their way through dense underbrush with tangled vines and ferns which caught in their feet and tripped them. At times Bill had difficulty in keeping Sam Crouch in sight. When Bill stopped to release his feet from a vine, Sam disappeared ahead, and then Bill had to hurry to catch up. Sam never showed the slightest indications of slowing down. It was always on, on, down the mountain side.

Occasionally they would encounter a tree trunk which extended across their line of march. If it was comparatively small, Sam would jump over it. If it was too large to climb over, he would turn along the trunk and go around the end. Bill had to admit that he was getting tired.

The mountain side seemed endless. Bill was sure that Sam had lost his way and was wandering about through the forest aimlessly. He could not see the direction that they were following, for the underbrush and trees overhead limited his view to the immediate surroundings. He saw Sam stop a short distance ahead. Now they were certainly going to have a rest. When he came up to the woodsman he found out his mistake. They had reached an extra large tree trunk bordering on a steep, rocky cliff which took some maneuvering to pass.

The sun was completely hidden by the smoke, but the heat was stifling. The crackling of the burning timber sounded as if it were a few feet distant. Bill jumped backward when he heard the first falling tree. The tree dropped with a crash which resounded throughout the valley. He could not imagine what had caused the noise at first, for it had come so unexpectedly. It reminded him of the first bomb that he had heard when the Germans bombed the airdrome from which he was flying in France—no advance warning, nothing to herald its approach, just the crash and “wham” of the exploding bomb. After thinking it over, he was sure that it was a falling tree which had caused the noise. There was nothing else around which could have caused the same shattering roar. It must have been a large tree, too.

They came out into the open and Bill obtained a view of the valley below and the opposite ridge Crouch stopped to study the fire and make up his plan for fighting it. He stood awestruck, watching the terrible sight across the small valley. Bob came up and joined him. Both were tired, but the sight held them spellbound.

The fire seemed to reach from the bottom of the valley to the top of the ridge, and from one end of the mountain to the other. The exact limits were not discernible on account of the thick foliage. Smoke was boiling up with a rush over an area of about eight hundred acres. Down along the McKenzie there had not been much wind, but here around the fire a strong east wind was driving the smoke and fire before it. At times the flames shot up into the air at least a hundred feet and then died down and disappeared below the foliage. The smoke poured up incessantly.

Although they were still at least a quarter of a mile away from the near edge of the fire, the noise was deafening. Bill was watching a large tree in the midst of the fire. The fire had evidently been burning around it for some time, and it must have weathered prior fires which weakened its trunk, for it suddenly fell with a crash that sent a cloud of smoke and fire upwards with a roar. He could not tell which was the louder, the shattering crash of the tree or the roar of the flames. When the wind struck that column of smoke and fire, it scattered sparks in all directions and new fires seemed to start in parts of the forest hitherto untouched.

The fire had reached the tree tops in one section of the woods. Crouch called their attention to that particular area. It was a sight which would never be forgotten by either Bill or Bob. They were looking at one of the most terrifying of all kinds of forest fires—a crown fire. The flames seemed to be alive. They acted as if guided by some diabolical hand as they carried their destruction onward. They leaped from tree top to tree top with an incredible speed. At times their motion was almost too rapid for the eye to follow. A sheet of flames covered the tops of all the trees in that particular part of the forest so completely that the green foliage below was completely hidden.

“It’s a wonderful but appalling sight,” said Bill. “It fascinates me, but makes me shudder to see such widespread destruction. It is almost human in its method of operating. Think of the wasted force and power. Those giant trees are stripped and destroyed as if they were match sticks.”

“I don’t see what can be done to stop that,” said Bob. “It is far beyond control. It’s a monster of a fire!”

“Just stick around and you will be surprised,” said Sam. “Oak Tree Creek runs along the south end of that ridge. It has a wide meadow along portions of its banks. We will try and keep the fire from crossing that creek. I think that we can get away with it. Let’s go.”

They were off again. Bill was not so sure that he would be able to keep up with Sam. He was setting a mighty fast pace. If Sam worked as rapidly as he walked, Bill knew that it would take everything that he had to hold up his end. Once more they were tramping through the thick underbrush. The walking was hard, but it did not last very long, for they soon came out along a small creek.

The creek did not come up to Bill’s expectations. He had visioned a wide expanse of meadow land with a creek winding its way through the tall grass. What they actually found was a narrow creek which followed a natural cut through the woods. Here and there it ran through a small open space where the trees did not meet. These open spaces were the meadow land.

“I am going to start some backfires along this creek,” shouted Sam to make himself heard above the deafening roar of the fire. “We will have to watch them closely to see that they do not spread over to the other side of the creek. If the sparks blow across, put them out at once with wet gunny-sacks. I believe your name’s Bill?”

“That’s me,” said Bill.

“Well, Bill, you stay here and work along up the creek. I will drop Bob off up the creek about fifty yards. In some cases you may have to dig shallow trenches to stop the fire. In others the fire will stop itself when it reaches the green grass. We can keep the backfires under control and head them at the other fire. When the two meet our work is done. Get the idea?”

“How about the fire spreading west?” asked Bill.

“This creek runs into Cow Creek a couple of rods down,” said Sam. “Simmons has a whole flock of people working along Cow Creek.”

The backfires were started. To keep them headed in the right direction, Bill in some places cleared away the dried leaves, but in others it was not necessary, as the fires were started along the creek bank. At times he found entirely different conditions where he had to dig shallow trenches to confine the fire. Bob and Sam disappeared into the woods, leaving a trail of smoke and flame to mark their trail. Bill was alone. He was terribly tired, so tired that he could hardly move.

He threw himself on the ground to rest. It was cool lying there and so hot working with the shovel digging trenches. The walk had not been an easy one, either. For a few seconds he took things easy and enjoyed the cool shade by the stream. Then a burning snag fell to the ground a short distance away. It was so close that Bill could see the column of sparks mount almost indefinitely into the sky. The crash of that snag jerked Bill to his feet and back to his job.

The fires were now all along the creek and the smoke was blinding. At times the backfires became unruly and he had to work at full speed to keep them under control. The heat became intense and everything that he had on was soaking wet. His arms and shoulders were so fatigued that he could hardly move them, but he kept on working.

Bill looked down the stream toward where he had started and saw that the fire was dying out. This gave him confidence in the work that he was doing. He could see that he was getting results from his tiring efforts.

His hands, face and arms were covered with black from the flying ashes and partly burned particles of wood or leaves. His skin was burned by the heat of the fire. His hands were a mass of blisters from the shovel and axe. It was the hardest work that he had ever done. How long he had been at it, he did not know. It seemed as if hours had passed since Sam and Bob had disappeared in the smoke.

One after another of the backfires joined with its neighbor. They gradually extended farther and farther away from the creek until there was a broad black belt separating the creek from the main fire. The backfiring had been a success in that area if not in any other. The main fire could not get across a space which had already been burned.

Bill continued to work up the stream. Soon he came to a place where someone else had obviously worked on a backfire. When he was sure that there was a continuous line of burned ground along the stream in his area, he went back again to be sure that no new fires had started while he was gone. Everything was as he had left it. His first fire-fighting had been a success.

The main fire was much nearer, but Bill no longer felt any danger from that. Let it come, it could not pass the wall which he had built across its front. Bill sat down along the creek to cool off and rest while waiting for Sam and Bob to return.