CHAPTER XIV.
THE BURN.
It was now the latter part of summer. The vessel being completed asfar as was possible at present, Captain Rhines went home, leaving Benand Charlie alone. There was now a large piece of land running alongthe eastern side of the island, beside the middle ridge, which wasready for a burn. From this land Ben had hauled his spars, and logs forboards, leaving the tops of the trees and all the brush; in addition tothis there was left quite a growth of other trees, that were not fitfor timber; these he and Joe had cut early in the spring, so that thesoil was completely covered with a dense mass of combustible matter,as dry as tinder. Ben was very anxious to burn this. He had now twocows, a bull, and a yoke of oxen, and was obliged to buy hay and bringon to the island for them, which, was a great deal of work. He had tohire his oxen pastured away in the summer, as the island was so denselycovered with wood that it afforded but little pasturage, which waseked out by falling maple trees for them to browse. It was thereforeof the greatest importance to burn this land, and get it into grass assoon as possible; but Ben hesitated a long time, fearing that he mightburn himself up, it was so dry, and hoping that a shower would cometo wet the grass, so the fire would not run. At length it was evidenthe must burn it, or it would be too late to sow, as he would soon beengaged in loading his timber, and have no opportunity.
One morning, when the dew was very heavy, almost equal to rain, and theslight wind from the south-west blew directly away from the buildings,he determined to make the attempt. In the first place they removedeverything from the house to the beach; then they hauled Charlie’scanoe up to the house, and filled it with water; they also filled allthe barrels, troughs, and tubs about the premises, and drove the cattleto the beach, lest the fire should run into the woods.
Ben would have ploughed two or three furrows around his buildings,which would have been the most effectual preventive; but, after thevessel was built, he had put his oxen away to pasture.
The settlers run great risks in clearing their lands, either ofburning up their houses, or of destroying the timber they wish to spare.
A few years since there were fires in Maine that burned for weeks, anddestroyed thousands of acres of timber, and cattle, houses, barns, andmany human beings, and even crossed streams.
But there is no other way. Here was a quantity of ground covered withbrush, logs, and bushes: to have hauled all this away would have beenan endless job, and after that the ground could neither be ploughed norplanted, being entirely matted with green roots, and cold and sour;besides, the moment the sun was let into it, sprouts would begin tospring up from the stumps, and weeds, blackberry, and raspberry bushesfrom the ground, and cover it all over. But a fire in a few hours willlick up every stick and leaf, except the large logs and stumps, burnup all the bushes, and the whole network of small roots that cover theground, so that nothing will start for months, as it destroys all theseeds of the weeds and trees, of which the ground is full; and if itis dry, and a thorough burn, will so roast the large stumps that veryfew of them will ever sprout again,--while, as in Ben’s case, most ofthem are spruce, pine, or fir, that never throw up any sprouts from theroots. There is then left a thick bed of ashes, which receives andfosters whatever is put into it.
Our readers will perhaps recollect, that along the shore of the islandwas a cleared spot covered with green grass. This cleared land extendedback on both sides of the brook for quite a distance, and was dottedover with elms; and on a little knoll, about half way between the brookand the middle ridge, was an enormous rock maple, with that perfectsymmetry of proportions which this noble tree often presents. The largelower limbs, bending downwards, came so near to the ground that Charliecould reach the tips of them, by standing on a stone.
How the boy loved this tree! It was beautiful in the spring, with itsred buds; beautiful in summer, with its masses of dark-green foliage,and its refreshing shade; but most beautiful of all in the autumn, withits crimson tints, relieved by the lighter colors of the surroundingtrees. Here he made his whistles; here he was quite sure in a hot dayto find the pig stretched out in the shade, with his nose stuck inthe moist, cool earth under a great root, and the cattle lying roundchewing their cuds.
He also had a swing under the limbs, made of two long beech withes,that Joe Griffin had twisted for him; and often, after supper, Sallywould take her sewing, come up and swing with him; and sometimes hewould swing the pig, for he had made a basket that he could put intothe swing.
Under ordinary circumstances this large piece of cleared ground wouldhave proved a perfect protection; but it was a sharp drought, and thegrass was dead, dry, and inflammable. Nevertheless, as the dew wasso heavy, and the grass damp with a fog which had set in the nightbefore, Ben thought there could be no danger, and put in the fire. Asit ran along the ground, and gradually crept away from the house, hecongratulated himself that all danger was over; but the wind suddenlyshifted to the north-east, and drove the fire directly towards thehouse. Had Ben set the fire at first along the whole line of the brush,there would have been burnt ground between him and the mass of fire,which would have cut off the communication, and he would have beensafe; but he set it on one corner, and when the wind shifted, the flamedriven by it dried the moisture from the grass, and made rapid progresstowards the house, while a large strip of dry grass made a bridge forthe fire to travel on.
As the wind was not yet strong enough to prevent the fire from running,it made good progress in the right direction, burning all the morethoroughly that it burned slowly; but, on the other hand, it wasconstantly coming in the direction of the house, increasing its pace asthe wind and heat dried up the moisture from the grass.
Soaking blankets in salt water, they spread them on the roof of thehouse, wet the ground around it, and urged to desperation by the fearof losing their home, beat out the flame from the grass with hemlockboughs, which is the best way to stop fire that is running in grass.
But the wind now began to rise, and as fast as they beat it out inone place it caught in another, as the wind blew the tufts of blazinggrass in all directions. Ben’s hair and clothes were singed. Sallywas frequently on fire, and had it not been that she was clothed inwoollen, and that Ben threw water on her, she would have been burnedup. The baby, during all this time, had been quietly sleeping in thecradle, but now, waked by the smoke, it began to sneeze and cry.
“Charlie,” said Sally, “I can do more at fighting fire than you can;take the baby to the shore, and take care of it.”
They were now almost worn out with exertion; their eyes and lungs werefull of smoke, the perspiration ran in streams from their flesh, andthe heat was intolerable; still they fought on, for all they had was atstake.
If the fire reached the house it would not only burn that, but wouldrun to the beach, where was lumber worth hundreds of dollars, which Benhad been nearly two years in preparing for market,--the greater part ofwhich was dry, and would take fire in a moment; there, too, were thesails and rigging.
Ben’s large canoe lay upon the beach, in which was some straw that Benhad brought over from his father’s to fill beds. Charlie, unable longerto look on, when so much was at risk, put the child into the canoeamong the straw, gave it some shells to attract its attention, and ranback to help.
The great wood-pile, within a few yards of the house, now took fire.
“It’s no use, Sally,” said Ben; “the fire is all around us, and all wehave must go.”
Sally, uttering a loud scream, ran wildly to the shore. A piece ofblazing moss, borne by the wind, had fallen into the canoe, and setfire to the straw, which was blazing up all around the baby. In amoment more it would have been burned to death; as it was, its clotheswere scorched, and the little creature terribly frightened.
At this moment a rushing sound was heard, and a vessel with all sailset, and bearing the white foam before her bows with the rapidity ofher motion, shot into the harbor, and was run high upon the soft sandof the beach, the tide being at half ebb.
&n
bsp; In an instant eight men, leaving the sails to slat in the wind, leapedinto the water, and with buckets which they filled as they ran, came tothe rescue. One alone lingered to cut some limbs from a hemlock bush,a whole armful of which he brought with him, and while the rest werepassing the water from the beach, and pouring on the blazing wood-pile,he was switching out the flames, as they ran towards the beach, with adexterity that showed he was no novice in fire-fighting.
The wood-pile was composed mostly of logs eight feet in length: whilethe others poured water on the ends of the sticks, Ben, catching holdof them, dragged them from the pile to a safe distance from the house,and, after a long and desperate struggle, they arrested the progress ofthe flames.
Scarcely was this accomplished, when the roof was discovered to be onfire; the violence of the wind had blown off a blanket, and the cinderscatching had kindled in the dry bark. Ben, taking Charlie, threw him upon the roof, when, the others passing him water, he soon extinguishedthe flames.
Ben had now opportunity to see who his deliverers were, and to thankthem, which he did in no measured terms.
They were John Strout, Henry and Joe Griffin, Seth Warren, Robert Yelf,Sam Edwards, Sydney Chase, and Uncle Isaac. He it was, that, with acoolness that never forsook him, stopped to cut an armful of switchesfor himself and the rest.
“God bless you, my old friend!” said Ben, grasping him by both hands,“and God bless the whole of you! ‘friends in need are friends indeed;’I can’t find words to thank you.”
Poor Sally, now that the excitement was over, fainted away. Ben carriedher into the house, while the others brought in a bed, and by the aidof burnt vinegar applied to her nostrils revived her. Her face wasuninjured, but her hair was scorched, and her arms and hands burned,causing her much suffering.
“What shall we do for her?” said Ben; “I have not a bit of salve, noranything in the house.”
“I can tell you what to do,” said Uncle Isaac; “go and get some of thatblue clay by the brook, and mix it up with water that has the chilltaken off, and plaster it right on three inches thick, and you’ll seewhat it will do; all you want is to keep the air out.”
They procured the clay, and Uncle Isaac fixed it and put it on. It gaveinstant relief. In a few moments the clay began to dry and crack open,by reason of the heat and inflammation.
“Ben,” said Uncle Isaac, “do you sit by her and keep that clay moistwith cold water; no matter how cold it is now, it will have the chilltaken off before it gets through the clay.”
“But how shall we ever get the clay off?”
“You don’t want to get it off; the flesh will heal under it, and thenit will come off itself.”
“How did you know that, Uncle Isaac?”
“The Indians learned me; there’s a good deal in an Indian, you’d betterbelieve.”
“But won’t there want to be some healing-salve on it?”
“Healing-salve? fiddlestick! I’ve seen Indians cut half to pieces,scalded, and burnt, and get well, and I never saw any salve among them.Now,” continued Uncle Isaac (who, though one of the kindest-heartedmen alive, was but little given to sentiment, and entirely practicalin all his views), “we can do no more good here; let us bring thefurniture into the house for Ben, and then I want to finish that burn;we’ll set it on fire at the other end; it will be fun to see it comedown before the wind. It can do no harm, for there are enough of us totake care of it. I reckon I know something about this business.”
His proposal was received with cheers. While some brought the thingsinto the house, others furled the vessel’s sails, and carried out ananchor astern, to hold the vessel when she should float, as it was halfebb when they ran her on. Henry Griffin was cook, and they left himaboard to get supper.
At any other time Charlie would have been very anxious to have gonewith them, but the suffering of his mother, and the care of the baby,put everything else out of his head. He kissed her again and again,with tears in his eyes, made gruel for her, and did everything in hispower to relieve her.
The party found that the fire had made but slow progress against thewind, which now blew half a gale. Arming themselves with blazingbrands, they proceeded to the upper part of the piece, and fired themass of dry material in fifteen or twenty different places. An enormousvolume of smoke and flame instantly arose, and swept down before thewind, presenting a truly magnificent spectacle. In clearing land theyare not particular to cut every tree. Sometimes there will be an olddead pine full of pitch, that, as it makes no shade to hurt a crop,and draws nothing from the soil, they let it alone. At other timesthey make what they call a _drive_; they cut a number of trees partlyoff, and then, picking out a very large one, fall it on the rest, andthus drive them all down together,--as boys set up a row of bricks,and starting one throw down the whole,--which saves them a great dealof cutting. A good many trees are broken off in these drives twentyor thirty feet from the ground, and, if they stand any time in hotweather, the pitch will fry out of them, and run in little yellowthreads to the ground. There were a great many trees in this lot thathad been standing a good while, and were full of pitch. It was nowtwilight, and as the flame struck one of these trees the little threadsof pitch flashed like powder, and the flame, following them up the bodyof the tree with a rush and roar, spouted from the top in grand style,amid the loud shouts of the performers. At times there would be agreat dry stub as big as a hogshead, and the fire, getting in at theroots, would run up the inside, and roar and blaze from the top like adozen chimneys.
The flames would also, once in the while, catch a large tree in theforest on the middle ridge, and run from limb to limb clear to the top,shining far into the depths of the forest.
Although it was rare sport, there was a great deal of effort connectedwith it, as they were obliged to exert themselves to the utmost toprevent the fire from getting into the standing growth on the westernside, as on the other side the clearing extended to the shore; butthis, with these hardy natures, only gave zest to the proceedings.
“Quit that, Joe Griffin; what are you thrashing me with that hemlocklimb for?” cried Robert Yelf.
“Jerusalem! if my eyes ain’t so full of smoke that I took your red facefor a fire-coal.”
Many a rough joke was played, and many a sly blow given and taken, inthe smoke. The fire had now nearly spent itself for lack of fuel.
Charlie came to say, Henry wanted to know if they were going to live onfirebrands, for he had been waiting with his supper two hours, and wasalmost starved. They now went on board to eat.
“Come, Ben,” said Joe, “go and eat supper with us; and when you getback Charlie can come.”
As they were eating, Ben ascertained how it happened that his friendswere present so opportunely.
“You see,” said Uncle Isaac, “we heard the mackerel were master thickoutside; that started us all up. I’d got in my hay, so thought I’d gowith the rest. We were beating down, when Joe says to me, ‘There’s agreat smoke over to Ben’s.’ ‘Yes,’ I says, ‘I guess he’s setting hisburn.’ Then I saw the smoke roll up above the trees, and I was sartain.‘He’ll have a capital time, for the wind is just right, and there’s aheavy dew.’ The words were hardly out of Joe’s mouth before the windshifted right about. Then I was sure there would be trouble. In a fewmoments we opened out by the head of the island, and saw the blaze. Iscreamed out, ‘The fire is coming right down on Ben’s house, and he’llbe burnt out in a jiffy!’ We were almost abreast of the harbor, and,hauling the sheets aft, shot her right on to the beach.”
About ten o’clock that night a shower came up. Ben sat by Sally, whohad now fallen asleep, listened to the rain upon the roof, moisteningthe parched earth, and relieving him of all anxiety in respect to thefire kindling again during the night. His heart went up in gratitude toGod that his little property had been preserved, and his wife and childhad not fallen victims to the fire.
Notwithstanding the mackerel were thick, neither John nor Uncle Isaacwould start in the morning till they s
aw how it fared with Sally, who,to the great delight of all, was much better.
Uncle Isaac inspected Charlie’s sink, canoe, and baskets, and praisedthem very much.
“There’s the making of a mechanic in that boy,” said he, “and no meanone either.”
They then walked over the burn.
“I call that a first-rate burn,” said Joe; “a miss is as good as amile, Ben. Sally is doing well, and this burn will give you yourbread-stuffs for a year, and hay for your cattle after that.”
The next morning Ben sent Charlie after the widow Hadlock, who came onto take care of her daughter and grandchild.
There were other incidents connected with the burn of a less pleasingnature. Charlie had a very large hen, that the widow Hadlock had givenhim, which, having stolen her nest, was sitting among the bushes oneighteen eggs, and, too faithful to leave her trust, was burned to acrisp on her nest. Charlie grieved much as he looked upon the remainsof his hen, and counted over the eggs, the chickens from which he washoping to have raised as late ones to winter, that he might send theearlier ones to the West Indies; but he consoled himself with thethought that his turnip-patch was spared, and growing finely.
All along the shore of the island the line of cliff was fringed with amixed growth of white birch, maple, spruce, and red oak, contrastingbeautifully with the ragged and perpendicular cliffs which had beenspared by Ben as a shelter to the land from the easterly winds, andmore than all for the beauty of their appearance. He took great delightin the spring, when pulling along the shore, in looking upon the massesof light-green foliage that covered the birches, and fell over therocks.
These were now all consumed; and the rocks, shorn of moss, stood outwhite and naked in the sun. The willows and alders that fringed thebrook were gone; the trunks of the elms and that of the great maplescorched, and the grass all around the house black as a coal. All overthe land were blackened stumps and stubs, from which the smoke rose,and among whose roots the fires were smouldering. The beauty of thelandscape had vanished, and desolation came in its stead.
“Father,” cried Charlie, moved almost to tears as he gazed upon thescene, “will my maple die, and the elms, and the great yellow birch atthe brook, mother thinks so much of?”
“No, Charlie, they are only singed on the outside; there was not powerenough in burning grass to heat the roots, as though they had stood inthe woods among the brush; and the trees on the bank will be replacedby others, and perhaps handsomer ones.”
They now went to rolling and piling; in anticipation of this Sallyhad made them two suits apiece of tow-cloth, which they wore withoutshirts. The fire had not consumed the bodies of many of the largetrees: some of these they used to make the fence of; the rest theycut up and hauled together with the oxen, and piled them up in greatpiles, and set them on fire, till they consumed the whole. As they werecompelled to put their shoulders and breasts against these logs toroll them up, they were covered with smut from head to foot. They couldnot sit down in a chair without smutting it all over; and their faceswere in streaks of white and black, where the perspiration ran down andwashed away the smut. So, when they came to their meals, they just tookoff their tow suits, and got into the brook and washed themselves, andthen washed their clothes, and spread them in the sun to dry, and puton another suit; part of the time they took their dinner in the field.Rover followed them round, rooting under the stumps for worms, and oncein a while would shove his nose on a hot coal, which would make him runaway squealing.
This smutty and laborious job being over, land fenced, and logs burnedup, Ben sowed half of it with winter rye, reserving the other to plantwith corn in the spring.
The grain must now in some way be covered; but Ben had no harrow tocover it with; besides, the ground was dotted with stumps, whose greatroots stuck out in every direction, and no common harrow would haveworked. He cut down a scrubby spruce, and trimming off the limbs withinsix or eight inches of the trunk, sharpened the points of them; hethen hitched the oxen to this hedge-hog, as he called it, and hauled itover the ground, thus scratching the earth over the grain. When Charliesaw this, he laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks.
“I should think it was a hedge-hog,” said he; “I wonder what thesteward of his highness the Duke of Bedford would say to that.”
“It will do better work here than any harrow in England, for all that,”said Ben.
There were many places where the hedge-hog could not go close to thestumps, because the large spur roots rolled it off: around theseCharlie hacked the grain in with a hoe.
Ben now went over to his father’s, and got all the chaff he could findin the barn, which was full of grass-seed, and sowed it on the rye.
It was now getting to be autumn. Ben and Charlie went off in the largecanoe, and caught and cured fish to last them through the winter, and,getting a scow, brought on hay enough to winter their stock.
Sally, rapidly recovering under the careful nursing of her mother,was in a few days able to be about the house, and by the time therye, which was sown on the burn, was well up, had recovered. Thefirst thing she did was to go and see the grain, with which she was sodelighted, that she declared she would be willing to be burned againfor such a field of grain as that.