Chapter XXII: A Dash Through the Flames

The object thus indicated by Cal was in fact about as alarming a thing as they could have encountered. It was nothing more or less than the smoking summit of a big tree a few hundred feet ahead of them. As they gazed it broke into flame, the resinous leaves igniting with a succession of sharp cracks like pistol shots. In a second the tree was transformed into the semblance of an immense torch. Driven by the wind the flames went leaping and rioting among its neighbors till all above the Motor Rangers was a fiery curtain stretched between them and the sky.

To make matters worse, the smoke, as acrid and pungent as chemical vapor, was driven in Nat's eyes, and he could hardly see to drive. His throat, too, felt hot and parched, and his gloves were singed and smoking in half a dozen places.

"Get out that big bucket and fill it from the tank," he ordered as he drove blindly onward.

"Guess it's about time," muttered Cal as he, guessing the rest of Nat's order, dashed the water right and left over the party, "we'd have bin on fire ourselves in a few seconds."

Nat drove as fast as he dared, but the fire seemed to travel faster. The roar now resembled the voice of a mighty waterfall, and occasionally the sharp cracks of bursting trunks or falling branches filled the air.

"The whole forest is going," bawled Cal, "put on more steam Nat."

The boy did as he was directed and the beleaguered auto forged forward a little more swiftly. Suddenly, however, a happening that bade fair to put a dead stop to their progress occurred. Directly in front of them the chaparral had blazed about a tree, till it had eaten into the trunk. Weakened, the monster trembled for a moment and then plunged downward.

"Lo-ok ou-t!"

Cal bellowed the warning, and just in time. Nat, half blinded as he was, had not seen the imminent danger.

With a crash like the subsidence of a big building, the tree toppled over and fell across the track, blazing fiercely, and with a shower of sparks and embers flying upward from it.

A new peril now threatened the already danger-surrounded lads, and their Western companion. The tree lay across their path, an apparently insurmountable object. A glance behind showed that the flames had already closed in, the fire, by some freak of the wind, having been driven back from their temporary resting place. But they knew that the respite was only momentary.

Suddenly, the car surged forward, and before one of the party even realized that Nat had made up his mind they were rushing full tilt for the blazing log.

"Wow!" yelled Cal carried away by excitement, as he sensed Nat's daring purpose, "he's going ter jump it--by thunder!"

Even as he spoke the auto was upon the log and its front wheels struck the glowing, blazing barrier with a terrific thud. Had they not been prepared for the shock the Motor Rangers would have scattered out of the car like so many loose attachments.

As if it had been a leaping, hunting horse, the big car bounced and jolted over the log, which was fully six feet in diameter. It came down again beyond it with a jounce that almost shook the teeth out of their heads, but the lads broke into a cheer in which Herr Muller's and Cal's voices joined, as they realized that Nat's daring had saved the day for them.

Behind them lay the fiercely blazing forest, but in front the road was clear, although the resinous smell of the blaze and the smoke pall lay heavily above them still. A short distance further a fresh surprise greeted them. A number of deer, going like the wind, crossed the road, fleeing in what their instinct told them was a safe direction. They were followed by numerous wolves, foxes and other smaller animals.

As they went onward they came upon a big burned-out patch in which an ember must have fallen, carried by some freak of the capricious wind. In the midst of it, squirming in slimy, scaly knots, were a hundred or more snakes of half a dozen kinds, all scorched and writhing in their death agonies. The boys were glad to leave the repulsive sight behind them. At last, after ascending a steep bit of grade they were able to gaze back.

It was a soul-stirring sight, and one of unpassable grandeur. Below them the fire was leaping and raging on its way eastward. Behind it lay a smoking, desolate waste, with here and there a charred trunk standing upright in its midst. Already the blaze had swept across the trail, stripping it bare on either side. The lads shuddered as they thought that but for good fortune and Nat's plucky management of the car, they might have been among the ashes and débris.

"Wall, boys," said Cal, turning to them, "you've seen a forest fire. What do you think of it?"

"I think," said Nat, "that it is the most terrible agent of destruction I have ever seen."

"I t-t-t-think we need a w-w-w-ash," stuttered Ding-dong.

They burst into a laugh as they looked at one another and recognized the truth of their whimsical comrade's words. With faces blackened and blistered by their fiery ordeal and with their clothes scorched and singed in a hundred places, they were indeed a vagabond looking crew.

"I'll bet if old Colonel Morello could see us now we'd scare him away," laughed Joe, although it pained his blistered lips to indulge in merriment.

"Wall, there's a stream a little way down in that hollow," said Cal, pointing, "we'll have a good wash when we reach it."

"And maybe I won't be glad, too," laughed Nat, setting the brakes for the hill ahead of them.

Suddenly Ding-dong piped up.

"S-s-s-s-say, m-m-m-may I m-m-m-make a remark?"

"Certainly, boy, half a dozen of them," said Cal.

"It's a go-g-g-g-good thing we lost Bismark," grinned Ding-dong, in which sage observation they all perforce acquiesced.

"I've got something to say myself," observed Joe suddenly, "maybe you other fellows have noticed it? This seat is getting awfully hot."

"By ginger, so it is," cried Cal suddenly, springing up from the easy posture he had assumed.

"L-l-l-ook, there is s-s-s-smoke c-c-c-coming out from back of the car!" cried Ding-dong alarmedly.

As he spoke a volume of smoke rolled out from behind them.

"Good gracious, the car's on fire!" yelled Nat, "throw some water on it quick!"

"Can't," exclaimed Cal, "we used it all up coming through the flames yonder."

"We'll burn up!" yelled Joe despairingly.

Indeed it seemed like it. Smoke was now rolling out in prodigious quantities from beneath the tonneau and to make the possibilities more alarming still, the reserve tank full of gasolene was located there.

The tonneau had now grown so hot that they could not sit down.

"Get out, everybody," yelled Joe, as badly scared as he had ever been in his life.

"Yep, let us out, Nat," begged Cal. The Westerner was no coward, but he did not fancy the idea of being blown sky high on top of an explosion of gasolene any more than the rest.

"Good thing I haven't got on my Sunday pants," the irrepressible Westerner remarked. "Hey, Nat," he yelled the next minute, as no diminution of speed was perceptible, "ain't you going ter stop?"

"Not on your life," hurled back Nat, without so much as turning his head.

He evidently had some plan, but what it was they could not for the life of them tell. Their hearts beat quickly and fast with a lively sensation of danger as the burning auto plunged on down the rough slope.

All at once Joe gave a shout of astonishment.

"I see what he's going to do now!" he exclaimed.

So fast was the auto travelling that hardly had the words left his lips before they were fairly upon the little rivulet or creek Cal's acute eyes had spied from the summit of the hill.

The next instant they were in it, the water coming up to the hubs. Clouds of white steam arose about the car and a great sound of hissing filled the air as the burning portion encountered the chill of the water.

"Wall, that beats a fire department," exclaimed Cal, as, after remaining immersed for a short time, Nat drove the car up the opposite bank which, luckily, had a gentle slope.

As Cal had remarked, it did indeed beat a fire department, for the water had put out the flames effectually. An investigation showed that beyond having charred and blistered the woodwork and paint that the fire had fortunately done no damage. It would take some little time to set things to rights, though, after the ordeal they had all gone through, and so it was decided that they would camp for a time at the edge of the river.

"Hullo, what's all that going on over there?" wondered Joe, as he pointed to a cloud of dust in the distance.

Cal rapidly shinned up a tree, and shading his eyes with his hand, gazed for some moments in the direction of the cloud.

"Sheep!" he announced as he slid down again, "consarn thet Jeb Scantling, now I know who set thet fire."

The boys looked puzzled till Cal went on to explain.

"You know I told you fellows that cattlemen was dead sore at sheepmen," he said, "and that's the reason."

He jerked one brown thumb backward to indicate that "that" was the fire.

"Do you mean to say that Jeb Scantling started it?" gasped Nat. The idea was a new one to him.

"Wall, I'd hate to accuse any one of doing sich a thing," rejoined Cal non-committally, "but," he added with a meaning emphasis, "I've heard of sheepmen setting tracts on fire afore this."

"But whatever for?" inquired Joe in a puzzled tone.

"So's to burn the brush away and hev nice green grass in the spring," responded Cal.

"Well, that's a nice idea," exclaimed Nat, "so they burn up a whole section of country to get feed for a few old sheep."

"Yep," nodded Cal, "and that's what is at the bottom of most of the sheep and cattlemen's wars you read about."

At first the boys felt inclined to chase up Jeb, but they concluded that it would be impracticable, so, allowing the sheepman to take his distant way off into the lonelier fastnesses of the Sierras, they hastened to the stream and began splashing about, enjoying the sensation hugely. Suddenly a voice on the bank above hailed them. Somewhat startled they all turned quickly and burst into a roar of laughter as they saw Herr Muller, who had slipped quietly from among them "holding them up" with a camera.

"Lookd idt breddy, blease," he grinned, "a picdgure I take idt."

Click!

And there the whole crew were transferred to a picture for future development.

"I guess we won't be very proud of that picture," laughed Nat, turning to his ablutions once more.

"No, we must answer in the negative," punned Joe. But the next minute he paid the penalty as Cal leaped upon him and bore him struggling to the earth. Over and over they rolled, Cal attempting to stuff a handful of soapsuds in the punning youth's mouth.

"Help! Nat!" yelled Joe.

"Not me," grinned Nat, enjoying the rough sport, "you deserve your fate."

Soon after order was restored and they sat down to a meal to which they were fully prepared to do ample justice.

"Say," remarked Cal suddenly, with his mouth full of canned plum pudding, "this stream and those sheep back yonder put me in mind of a story I once heard."

"What was it?" came the chorus.

"Wall, children, sit right quiet an' I'll tell yer. Oncet upon a time thar was a sheepman in these hills----"

"Sing ho, the sheepman in the hills!" hummed Joe.

"Thar was a sheepman in these hills," went on Cal, disdaining the interruption, "who got in trouble with some cattlemen, the same way as this one will if they git him. Wall, this sheepman had a pal and the two of them decided one day that ef they didn't want ter act as reliable imitations of porous plasters they'd better be gitting. So they gabbled and got. Wall, the cattlemen behind 'em pressed em pretty dern close, an' one night they come ter a creek purty much like this one.

"Wall, they was in a hurry ter git across as you may suppose, but the problem was ter git ther sheep over. You see they didn't want ter leave 'em as they was about all the worldly goods they had. But the sheep was inclined to mutiny."

"Muttony, you mean, don't you?" grinned Joe, dodging to safe distance. When quiet was restored, Cal resumed.

"As I said, the sheep was inclined ter argify"--this with a baleful glance at Joe--"and so they decided that they'd pick up each sheep in ther arms and carry them over till they got the hull three thousand sheep across ther crick. You see it wuz ther only thing ter do."

The boys nodded interestedly.

"Wall, one of ther fellows he picks up a sheep and takes it across and comes back fer another, and then ther other feller he does the same and in the meantime ther first feller had got his other across and come back fer more and ther second was on his way over and----"

"Say, Cal," suggested Nat quietly, "let's suppose the whole bunch is across. You see----"

"Say, who's tellin' this?" inquired Cal indignantly.

"You are, but----"

"Wall, let me go ahead in my own way," protested the Westerner. "Let's see where I was; I--oh yes, wall, and then ther other feller he dumped down his sheep and come back fer another and----Say, how many does that make, got across?"

"Search me," said Joe.

Nat shook his head.

"I d-d-d-d-on't know," stuttered Ding-dong Bell.

"Diss iss foolishness-ness," protested Herr Muller indignantly.

"Wall, that ends it," said Cal tragically, "I can't go on."

"Why not?" came an indignant chorus.

"Wall, you fellers lost count of ther sheep and there ain't no way of going on till we get 'em all over. You see there's three thousand and----"

This time they caught a merry twinkle in Cal's eye, and with wild yells they arose and fell upon him. It was a ruffled Cal who got up and resumed a sandy bit of canned plum pudding.

"You fellers don't appreciate realism one bit," grumbled Cal.

"Not three thousand sheep-power realism," retorted Nat with a laugh.