CHAPTER IX.--THE CHAOS OF A BURNING WORLD.
That was a day long to be remembered in the Great Northwest. It is truethat the destruction of life and property at that time by no meansequaled the ruin wrought by the forest fires of August, 1910, but theconflagration was serious in its final results for all that.
In August of the previous year half a hundred persons lost their livesin the fierce fires which swept over portions of Idaho and Montana, andmore than six billion feet of lumber were destroyed. At that time wildanimals raced into the log houses of settlers in order to escape theflames. In one instance, placed on record by a forester, a mountain lionactually sought shelter under a bed.
In that case, too, the fire virtually held its ruthless way until itburned itself out, as there were no trails, no telephones, no provisionsfor the fire fighters. The men of the forest patrol were each guarding ahundred thousand acres. In the more civilized countries of Europe, athousand acres is considered a large district for one man.
It was hot and close in the odd little valley on the mountain side.There seemed a premonition of greater danger in the very air--thelifeless air which seemed to dry the lungs beyond power of action. Thewind, coming over the blazing forests, struck hot upon the face andscorched the lips, while the acrid smoke filled the eyes, the ears, thenostrils.
It seemed to Ned that everything east of the Kootenai river must be onfire. Now and then, drawn by some wayward current of air, the thicksmoke lifted in the little cup-like valley, and the cowering wildanimals could be seen, huddling together in the terror of the time, deerno longer afraid of lion or bear, lion and bear forgetting to mark theirprey.
Finally, anxious to know the extent of the disaster, so far as it mightbe judged by a personal view of the country west of the valley, Ned leftthe boys in charge of the aeroplane and crept toward the rim of the cup.Jimmie saw him leaving and started on after him, but Jack drew him back.
"Let him go alone, for once," Jack said, "he's only going to find outwhere this menagerie of wild animals comes from."
Jimmie settled sullenly back by Jack's side, resolved to break away atthe first opportunity and follow the patrol leader.
When Ned gained the elevation he sought, the procession of wild animalshad come to an end, although birds, frightened and singed by the flames,were calling from the sky. Everywhere rolled billows of smoke, blown onahead of the line of fire and in a measure concealing its fatal advance.
Now and then, however, a spurt of hot wind came over the burned wasteand lifted the curtain for an instant. Then the boy saw that the firewas crawling up the slope, not racing as it had earlier in the day, butmoving steadily, sweeping the earth of the undergrowth, but leaving manylarge trees.
The danger was decreasing there, but lower down the flames wereconsuming everything in their path, eating down great trees and leavingfiery, straggling columns to consume them to ashes. Ned thanked hisstars that the growths on the slope were not dense enough to foster sucha blaze as that which burned below.
It has been stated by those who know that ordinary care would haveprevented most of the devastating forest fires which have raged in theNorthwest. Experts claim that forests should be burned over undercareful supervision, every three or four years. This, they say, willprevent the accumulation of inflammable material such as caused theterrible losses of August, 1910.
Ned saw at once the expediency of the proposed remedy. He knew thatresinous spines, steeped in the drippings of pitch and turp from theoverhead branches, had lain many inches deep around the trunks of thetrees, beneath fallen boles, and at the roots of the undergrowth. Thisaccumulation made the extinguishing of forest fires impossible. Heunderstood that the government had virtually provided for what followedby permitting this material to accumulate year after year.
It is declared by foresters and others who strove to check that wall offire that it advanced at the rate of a mile a minute between theKootenai river and the foothills. Below where Ned lay was a burningfurnace. It was so hot that he dare not lift his face a second time, andso he moved back to the aeroplane, which he found still safe from theflames, and the wild creatures crouching in the center of the valley.
"What are the prospects?" Frank asked, speaking with his lips close tothe ear of the patrol leader, for the roaring of the flames renderedordinary conversation difficult.
"There is safety here," Ned replied, "but everything to the west seemsto be burning."
"Gee!" Jimmie cried, looking Ned in the face, "how would you like tomeet a friend with a basket of ice?"
"Ice wouldn't last long here," Frank said.
"Not if I got hold of it!" Jimmie grunted.
As the line of fire came nearer to the top of the slope the air grewhotter, the smoke denser and more stifling. Pat remembered that a pailof water from a spring had been brought to the vicinity of the aeroplanesoon after Ned landed, and the boys wet their handkerchiefs and boundthem over their eyes and mouths.
As the heat increased the wild creatures crowding together ominously.When a feeble beast was trampled by a stronger one, or when a rattlerstruck at the leg of a bear or deer, there was a cry of pain and a quickmilling of the pack.
"If this doesn't end soon," Frank shouted to Ned through hishandkerchief, "there will be a stampede here. Then it will be all offfor us."
Ned looked around the little circle before replying. The boys certainlylooked like "white caps" with their sheeted faces.
"We'll have to wait and hope for the best," he said. "If the animalscome this way, we must stop them, so far as we are able, with our gunsand electric flashlights."
Presently night fell, and the wind quieted a little at the setting ofthe sun. In a short time the clouds rolled away in sullen, threateninggroups, and the stars looked down on the forest tragedy. Later, therewould be moonlight.
"I wonder if all the world is burned, except just this mountain?" Jimmieasked, taking the handkerchief from his face and wiping the smoke out ofhis inflamed eyes. "It looks that way."
"There seems to be enough left to hold a lot of heat," Jack said. "Idon't believe it will ever be cool again."
"If we'd only saved that brigand steak!" wailed Jimmie.
With the half light and the cooler air there came a commotion in themass of forest creatures in the center of the valley. It was night now,and they seemed to feel the mounting of their wild instincts to be upand away on the hunt.
Under the stars, one by one, they slunk away, bears and mountain lionsturning sullenly toward the lesser beasts, but still too terrified bywhat they had passed through to feel the pangs of hunger. In half anhour the menagerie had vanished, some to the mountain, some over theslopes to the north and south. The boys drew long breaths of relief whenthe shambling figure of the last bear disappeared.
Once Jack drew his gun on a fat old buck who seemed desirous ofinvestigating the aeroplane, but Ned saw the action and checked theslaughter.
"Let him alone," he said. "He's lived through this hell on earth, sogive him one more chance."
The boys now began gathering up their scattered utensils, restaking thetents, and preparing supper. Jimmie proposed another brigand steak, butPat insisted that he never wanted to get near enough to a fire to cookagain, so they made an indifferent meal of biscuit and tinned pork andbeans, not even going to the trouble to boil coffee.
While they were eating a gunshot came from the east, followed by thechallenge of a chanticleer.
"What do you know about that?" demanded Jimmie.
"I suppose," Jack complained, "that we've been eating a picked-up supperwithin a few rods of a farmhouse, or cattle ranch!"
"You might pry open some of the rocks back there," Pat observed, withsarcasm, "and see if you can find the house you speak of. It was a humanthroat that crow came from."
"Sure it was!" cried Jimmie. "It was a Boy Scout call. Now just see meget him to talking."
"What's a Rooster patrol chap doing here!" asked Jack. "I guess we areall having bad dreams."
Jimmie did not reply. Instead he put his hands to his throat and in asecond a long snarling wolf cry came forth, rising into a shrill call,as if summoning a pack at a distance.
"We'll see what he knows about that," the boy said.
As they listened the challenge of the chanticleer came once more. Thistime Jack answered it with the growl of a black bear, which seemed toFrank to be a great improvement on his practice stunts in the Black BearPatrol club rooms in New York.
This odd exchange of greetings kept up for some moments, and then thefigure of a boy of perhaps seventeen was seen in the uncertain light,making slow progress down the mountain, a short distance to the north.He carried a haversack on his shoulders and was dressed in the khakiuniform of the Boy Scouts of America.
"He must be used to mountain work," Jack remarked, as the boy leapedlightly from ledge to ledge and finally dropped into the valley. "Icouldn't do that, even in broad daylight, to save my life!"
The stranger now advanced to the group of boys and gave them the halfsalute of the Boy Scouts, standing with right arm straight out from theshoulder, palm outward, three fingers standing vertical, the thumbcrossing the palm to rest on the bent-in little finger. Ned replied withthe full salute, which is made with the hand in the same attitude, onlyat the forehead.
"What does the badge say?" demanded Jimmie.
"Be prepared!" was the quick reply.
"For what?" was the next question.
"To assist those in distress."
"You're all right," Jimmie shouted. "What patrol?"
"Chanticleer, Denver," was the reply.
"That accounts for the way you lighted down from the mountain," laughedNed.
"I've got used to climbing in walking the streets of my home town,"smiled the other. "Is Ned Nestor here?" he added. "My name is ErnestWhipple; I'm looking for Mr. Ned Nestor."
"Here he is, the only good-looker in the bunch," Jack laughed, pushingNed forward. "What do you want of him?"
"My father is connected with the Secret Service at Washington," was thereply, "and he posted me as to what was going on here. Said I might comeout and join the party, if Mr. Nestor would permit it. What do you say?"
Of course the son of a man connected with the Secret Service atWashington--a man who undoubtedly knew all the plans of the men who hadsent Ned into the Northwest--was not to be ignored, but at the same timeErnest would have been received into the party on the strength of hisown engaging personality, his own frank manner. From the very firstmoment he was a favorite with all the boys.
"You're as welcome as the flowers of May!" Frank cried. "Been tosupper?"
"Last night!" grinned Ernest. "My haversack is empty--also my stomach. Ihad to take to the mountain in order to keep out of the fire, andcouldn't connect with a grub stake."
"Then there are fires east of the divide?" asked Ned.
"Sure," was the reply, "although they are nothing like the ones overhere. The foresters are watching them, and there is little danger oftheir getting a big start."
"Where did you find foresters?" asked Ned, wondering if the men who hadsneaked away from the cavern were not posing as foresters waiting to dofurther mischief.
"They are in camp beyond the summit," was the reply. "They told me theyhad patrols all through the lower levels."
Jack gave a description of the man who had visited the camp on theplateau, and was not at all surprised when Ernest identified the fellowas the apparent leader of the band of foresters he had passed on his waywest.
"I see that you don't believe the men are foresters," Ernest said,looking into Ned's anxious face. "Well, to tell the truth, I doubt itmyself. I heard some talk there that set me thinking, after I got away.There was a man there who had just arrived from San Francisco, theysaid, and he was doing a good deal of kicking about something that hadbeen done, or hadn't been done. I don't know which."
"Can you describe the fellow?" asked Ned, a quick suspicion coming tohis mind.
"Of course I can," was the reply, and the remainder of the answer gavean accurate word photograph of one Albert Lemon.
Ned was thinking fast. How had Lemon reached the eastern side of thedivide so quickly. He, himself, had traveled swiftly from San Francisco,leaving soon after his exit from the bachelor apartment where thestrange and not entirely satisfactory interview had taken place. He hadleft the man who claimed to be Albert Lemon half dazed and weakened fromthe effects of opium--still weary from a long and exhausting journey, asshown by his clothing, and yet the fellow had beaten him out in the raceto the mountains.
Why? Certainly not to take charge of the body of his unfortunate friend,for the grave was not there, but in a little hollow away to the northand near the lake. His business seemed to lie with the outlaws who had,apparently, committed the crime. Why? Had the man been killed as theresult of a conspiracy between the two interests?
This point was worth looking into, for the motive for the deed mightalso prove to be the motive for other crimes--among them the burning offorests.
Boy Scouts in the Northwest; Or, Fighting Forest Fires Page 10
