CHAPTER II
IN PERIL
Accompanied by several men and boys, Bert ran toward the barn. Thewhole front, and part of the roof, were now blazing. The structure wasbeyond saving, as far as anything the bucket brigade could do, but themembers of that primitive fire department did not stop.
The buckets were passed from hand to hand, but such was the haste thata full bucket seldom reached the end of the line. Usually about halfthe fluid was spilled. And what little did get there was merely tossedagainst the side of the barn that was not yet burning, though from theway it was smoking it would evidently not be long before it burst intoflames.
Once more came the frightened neighing of the horses, tied in theirstalls. Their cries were weird and terrifying, for a horse seldomgives expression to its fear in that manner.
"You can't get 'em out!" called Constable Stickler, who had heard whathad been said. He left his supervision of the bucket brigade and ranalongside of the boy. "The fire's all around 'em. You can't get 'emout!"
"Well, I'm going to try," declared Bert.
"My fine horses!" exclaimed Mr. Stimson. "This means a terrible lossto me!"
"Is the barn insured?" asked the constable.
"Yes, but my stock ain't. Oh, this is a terrible calamity! An awfulmisfortune!"
Bert approached as closely as he dared to the blazing front of thebarn. Clearly no one could enter that way. But he knew the structurewell, for he had once helped Mr. Stimson get in his hay, when a showerwas threatened.
"Come around to the side door!" he called to those who followed him,and, such was the effect of his leadership, that no one now thought ofquestioning it. In times of excitement one cool head can do much, andBert was cool.
Beside the main entrance to the barn, which was up an elevateddriveway, there was a door opening into a sort of basement, and fromthat, by means of stairs, the main floor of the barn, where the horseswere, could be reached. This door was locked, but Bert smashed thefastening with a big stone, since Mr. Stimson was too much excited toremember where the key had been placed.
"Come on!" cried the boy.
"You can't take the horses down these stairs," said the constable, ashe and several other men followed Bert.
"No. Don't try it," added the farmer. "They'll break their legs."
"I'm not going to," said Bert. "Couldn't if I wanted to. The stairsare too narrow and steep. Hey, Cole," he called to his chum, who withVincent had left the now utterly useless bucket brigade lines, "youslip around and let out the cows. Mr. Stimson, you'd better show him."
"That's right. We'll git the cows out!"
The cows were kept in the basement of the barn, the entrance to itbeing on the other side, level with the ground. The flames had noteaten down, as yet, and the cows were found patiently chewing theircud. It did not take long for Mr. Stimson and his neighbors to getthem out.
With the horses it was a more difficult matter. These highly nervousanimals, half maddened by the fire, were running about, having nowbroken their halters, and they could be heard trampling on the flooroverhead. Part of the floor was burning, and the animals were confinedby the flames to one side of the barn.
"You'll never git them out," prophesied the constable.
Indeed, Bert was beginning to have his own doubts. But he had a planwhich he wished to try.
"Come on, Vincent," he called to his chum. "You know how to handlehorses, don't you?"
"Sure."
By this time the two boys and the constable had reached the head ofthe stairs, and were inside the barn, on the main floor. Fortunatelythe flames were not yet near the stairway.
"Look out for the horses!" yelled Mr. Stickler. "They're crazy withfear!"
The animals certainly were. Back and forth they rushed as the shiftingflames and smoke drove them from place to place. The interior of thebarn was becoming hotter and hotter. Most of the front had burnedaway, and through it, wreathed in flames and smoke as it was, thoseinside could look out and see the wondering crowd gathered before thestructure.
"Goin' to drive the horses through?" asked Vincent.
"No. They'd never cross those burning embers," replied Bert, pointingto where pieces of blazing wood had fallen across the threshold ofwhat had been the big doors of the barn. There was a wide zone offire, and from it the frightened horses shrank back, though, once ortwice, they seemed about to make a rush across it to safety.
"How you goin' to do it?" asked the constable.
"Look out!" suddenly called Vincent. "They're coming right for us!"
The maddened creatures, frightened by a puff of smoke that surged downfrom the now blazing roof, charged, like a small troop of cavalry,right at the two boys and the man.
"Down into the stairway!" cried Bert, making a dash for the place theyhad just come up. They reached it just in time. The horses thunderedpast, huddled together, avoiding by instinct the narrow, steep stairs,down which, had they stumbled, they would have met their deaths.
"Now's our chance!" cried Bert. "While they're in the far end of thebarn!"
"What are you going to do?" asked Vincent.
"Open those other big doors!"
The barn had two sets of large doors. Only one pair was used, however,those up to which the elevated driveway led. The others were to giveair to the place, when hay was being stored away, and they openedright into the cow-yard, ten feet below, with a sheer drop over thethreshold.
"Do you think those horses will jump out there?" asked the constable.
"I think they will, rather than burn to death."
"But the jump will break their legs."
"Not a bit of it. The cow-yard is soft and mucky. They will sink downin it, and the men can lead them out. Come on, Vincent, help me openthe doors." Bert's plan was now evident, and it seemed feasible. Butwould the frightened horses leap to safety?
Running up from the stairway, in which they had crouched when thehorses thundered past, the two boys hurried across the barn to the bigdoors. Constable Stickler called out:
"I'll go and send some men around to the cowyard."
"All right," replied Bert.
He and Vincent were almost at the doors when, once more, the horsescame at them with a rush. The boys were in great peril, but Bert sawtheir chance of safety.
"Jump up on the mowing machine!" he yelled, and he and his chumcrawled upon the apparatus just in time. So close were the horses thatone of them stumbled over the extended tongue of the machine, andfell. It got up in an instant, however, and joined its companions,that stood trembling in a corner, staring with terrified eyes at theflames that were eating closer and closer. The barn floor was smallerthan it had been, for the fire was consuming it, foot by foot.
"Come on, now!" cried Bert, and a moment later he had thrown aside theheavy bar that held the doors in place, and had swung them open. Thedraft, created by the fire, served to hold them so.
"Now help me drive the horses out," he called to Vincent. "Get behindthem, but look out they don't turn on you."
Cautiously the two boys made their way to where the terrified animalswere. Their mere movement was enough to send the horses off on the runagain. Fortunately the leader smelled the fresh air coming in throughthe opened doors. The horse paused a moment on the threshold andseemed to be staring down into the partly illuminated cow-yard. Wouldhe jump?
"Go on, old fellow!" called Bert, encouragingly. "Jump! You won't hurtyourself. It's soft mud. Go ahead, old fellow."
Whether the horse understood, or whether the boy's words calmed him,could not be told. Certainly he did jump, after a moment's hesitation,and a glance back at the flames which were coming closer and closer.
The other animals followed in an instant, for they had wanted only aleader. Above the roar of the flames Bert could hear the thud as thehorses landed in the soft muck of the cow-yard, ten feet below. Thencame a shout as the men rushed forward to secure them.
Bert looked from the big double doors. He could see the horsesfloundering aroun
d. One had fallen down, but none of them seemed to beinjured. The valuable steeds had been saved by the lad's ready wit.
"I wonder if there's anything more we can save?" asked Vincent.
"Let's see if we can't shove out the mowing machine," suggested Bert."If it falls in the muck it can't be damaged much."
The two boys shoved the apparatus to the opened doors. Another shoveand it toppled over and out. It landed safely, as they learned later.
"Come on, here are some bales of hay and straw. Might as well savethem, too," suggested Bert. "The fall won't hurt them, and the men canroll them out of the way before the flames reach them."
They managed to save several bales, all they could reach; and theyalso rolled out a carriage, which, as it had the bales to topple outon, falling only a short distance, was very little damaged.
"That's the stuff, boys!" called Constable Stickler, who with a crowdof others was in the cowyard, removing such things as the boys pushedor tossed out, for they found many small objects they could save.
"There isn't much more we can get out," called Bert in answer. "It'sgetting pretty hot here. Guess we'll have to leave, now."
He and Vincent turned to descend the inner stairs, by which they hadentered. As they did so there was a crash, and the forward part of theroof fell in. An instant later the stairway was buried put of sightunder a mass of blazing wood.
"We can't get out that way!" cried Vincent. "We're caught in a trap!"
"The big doors!" replied Bert. "We can jump out, just like the horsesdid."
"That's so! Come on! I guess the mud won't hurt us!" They turned tothat side of the barn, but to their horror they saw a stream of firepouring down over the opening, as a cataract of water flows over theedge of a fall. To escape they would have to jump through the flames.
The Young Firemen of Lakeville; Or, Herbert Dare's Pluck Page 2
