CHAPTER 10. Pine Ridge Range Ablaze.
At dusk that night a glow was in the southern sky, and the wind carriedthe pungent odor of burning grass. Dick went out on the porch afterdinner, and sniffed the air uneasily.
"I don't much like the look of it," he admitted to Sir Redmond. "Itsmells pretty strong, to be across the river. I sent a couple of theboys out to look a while ago. If it's this side of the river we'll haveto get a move on."
"It will be the range land, I take it, if it's on this side," SirRedmond remarked.
Just then a man thundered through the lane and up to the very steps ofthe porch, and when he stopped the horse he was riding leaned forwardand his legs shook with exhaustion.
"The Pine Ridge Range is afire, Mr. Lansell," the man announced quietly.
Dick took a long pull at his cigar and threw it away. "Have the boysthrow some barrels and sacks into a wagon--and git!" He went inside andgrabbed his hat, and when he turned Sir Redmond was at his elbow.
"I'm going, too, Dick," cried Beatrice, who always seemed to hearanything that promised excitement. "I never saw a prairie-fire in mylife."
"It's ten miles off," said Dick shortly, taking the steps at a jump.
"I don't care if it's twenty--I'm going. Sir Redmond, wait for me!"
"Be-atrice!" cried her mother detainingly; but Beatrice was gone to getready. A quick job she made of it; she threw a dark skirt over herthin, white one, slipped into the nearest jacket, snatched herriding-gauntlets off a chair where she had thrown them, and thencouldn't find her hat. That, however, did not trouble her. Down in thehall she appropriated one of Dick's, off the hall tree, and announcedherself ready. Sir Redmond laughed, caught her hand, and they racedtogether down to the stables before her mother had fully grasped thesituation.
"Isn't Rex saddled, Dick?"
Dick, his foot in the stirrup, stopped long enough to glance over hisshoulder at her. "You ready so soon? Jim, saddle Rex for Miss Lansell."He swung up into the saddle.
"Aren't you going to wait, Dick?"
"Can't. Milord can bring you." And Dick was away on the run.
Men were hurrying here and there, every move counting something done.While she stood there a wagon rattled out from the shadow of a haystack,with empty water-barrels dancing a mad jig behind the high seat, wherethe driver perched with feet braced and a whip in his hand. After himdashed four or five riders, silent and businesslike. In a moment theywere mere fantastic shadows galloping up the hill through the smotherygloom.
Then came Jim, leading Rex and a horse for himself; Sir Redmond hadsaddled his gray and was waiting. Beatrice sprang into the saddle andtook the lead, with nerves a-tingle. The wind that rushed against herface was hot and reeking with smoke. Her nostrils drank greedily thetang it carried.
"You gipsy!" cried Sir Redmond, peering at her through the murky gloom.
"This--is living!" she laughed, and urged Rex faster.
So they raced recklessly over the hills, toward where the night wasaglow. Before them the wagon pounded over untrailed prairie sod, withshadowy figures fleeing always before.
Here, wild cattle rushed off at either side, to stop and eye themcuriously as they whirled past. There, a coyote, squatting unseen upona distant pinnacle, howled, long-drawn and quavering, his weird protestagainst the solitudes in which he wandered.
The dusk deepened to dark, and they could no longer see the racingshadows. The rattle of the wagon came mysteriously back to them throughthe black.
Once Rex stumbled over a rock and came near falling, but Beatrice onlylaughed and urged him on, unheeding Sir Redmond's call to ride slower.
They splashed through a shallow creek, and came upon the wagon, haltedthat the cowboys might fill the barrels with water. Then they passed by,and when they heard them following the wagon no longer rattled gliblyalong, but chuckled heavily under its load.
The dull, red glow brightened to orange. Then, breasting at last a longhill, they came to the top, and Beatrice caught her breath at what laybelow.
A jagged line of leaping flame cut clean through the dark of the coulee.The smoke piled rosily above and before, and the sullen roar of itclutched the senses--challenging, sinister. Creeping stealthily,relentlessly, here a thin gash of yellow hugging close to the earth,there a bold, bright wall of fire, it swept the coulee from rim to rim.
"The wind is carrying it from us," Sir Redmond was saying in her ear."Are you afraid to stop here alone? I ought to go down and lend a hand."
Beatrice drew a long gasp. "Oh, no, I'm not afraid. Go; there is Dick,down there."
"You're sure you won't mind?" He hesitated, dreading to leave her.
"No, no! Go on--they need you."
Sir Redmond turned and rode down the ridge toward the flames. Hisstraight figure was silhouetted sharply against the glow.
Beatrice slipped off her horse and sat down upon a rock, dead toeverything but the fiendish beauty of the scene spread out below her.Millions of sparks danced in and out among the smoke wreaths whichcurled upward--now black, now red, now a dainty rose. Off to the left acoyote yapped shrilly, ending with his mournful howl.
Beatrice shivered from sheer ecstasy. This was a world she had neverbefore seen--a world of hot, smoke-sodden wind, of dead-black shadowsand flame-bright light; of roar and hoarse bellowing and sharp crackles;of calm, star-sprinkled sky above--and in the distance the uncannyhowling of a coyote.
Time had no reckoning there. She saw men running to and fro in theglare, disappearing in a downward swirl of smoke, coming to view againin the open beyond. Always their arms waved rhythmically downward,beating the ragged line of yellow with water-soaked sacks. The trailthey left was a wavering, smoke-traced rim of sullen black, where beforehad been gay, dancing, orange light. In places the smolder fanned to newlife behind them and licked greedily at the ripe grass like hungry, redtongues. One of these Beatrice watched curiously. It crept slyly into anunburned hollow, and the wind, veering suddenly, pushed it out of sightfrom the fighters and sent it racing merrily to the south. The main lineof fire beat doggedly up against the wind that a minute before had beenfriendly, and fought bravely two foes instead of one. It dodged, ducked,and leaped high, and the men beat upon it mercilessly.
But the little, new flame broadened and stood on tiptoes defiantly,proud of the wide, black trail that kept stretching away behind it; andBeatrice watched it, fascinated by its miraculous growth. It beganto crackle and send up smoke wreaths of its own, with sparks dancingthrough; then its voice deepened and coarsened, till it roared quitelike its mother around the hill.
The smoke from the larger fire rolled back with the wind, and Beatricefelt her eyes sting. Flakes of blackened grass and ashes rained uponthe hilltop, and Rex moved uneasily and pawed at the dry sod. To him aprairie-fire was not beautiful--it was an enemy to run from. He twitchedhis reins from Beatrice's heedless fingers and decamped toward home,paying no attention whatever to the command of his mistress to stop.
Still Beatrice sat and watched the new fire, and was glad she chanced tobe upon the south end of a sharp-nosed hill, so that she could seeboth ways. The blaze dove into a deep hollow, climbed the slope beyond,leaped exultantly and bellowed its challenge. And, of a sudden, darkforms sprang upon it and beat it cruelly, and it went black where theystruck, and only thin streamers of smoke told where it had been. Stillthey beat, and struck, and struck again, till the fire died ingloriouslyand the hillside to the south lay dark and still, as it had been at thebeginning.
Beatrice wondered who had done it. Then she came back to hersurroundings and realized that Rex had left her, and she was alone. Sheshivered--this time not in ecstasy, but partly from loneliness--andwent down the hill toward where Dick and Sir Redmond and the others werefighting steadily the larger fire, unconscious of the younger, new onethat had stolen away from them and was beaten to death around the hill.
Once in the coulee, she was compelled to take to the burnt ground, whichcrisped hotly under her feet and sent up a rank, suffocat
ing smell ofburned grass into her nostrils. The whole country was alight, and downthere the world seemed on fire. At times the smoke swooped blindingly,and half strangled her. Her skirts, in passing, swept the black ashesfrom grass roots which showed red in the night.
Picking her way carefully around the spots that glowed warningly,shielding her face as well as she could from the smoke, she kept onuntil she was close upon the fighters. Dick and Sir Redmond were workingside by side, the sacks they held rising and falling with the regularityof a machine for minutes at a time. A group of strange horsemen gallopedup from the way she had come, followed by a wagon of water-barrels,careering recklessly over the uneven ground. The horsemen stopped justinside the burned rim, the horses sidestepping gingerly upon the hotturf.
"I guess you want some help here. Where shall we start in?" Beatricerecognized the voice. It was Keith Cameron.
"Sure, we do!" Dick answered, gratefully. "Start in any old place."
"I'm not sure we want your help," spoke the angry voice of Sir Redmond."I take it you've already done a devilish sight too much."
"What do you mean by that?" Keith demanded; and then, by the silence, itseemed that every one knew. Beatrice caught her breath. Was this one ofthe ways Dick meant that Keith could fight?
"Climb down, boys, and get busy," Keith called to his men, after a fewbreaths. "This is for Dick. Wait a minute! Pete, drive the wagon ahead,there. I guess we'd better begin on the other end and work this way.Come on--there's too much hot air here." They clattered on across thecoulee, kicking hot ashes up for the wind to seize upon. Beatrice wentslowly up to Dick, feeling all at once very tired and out of heart withit all.
"Dick," she called, in an anxious little voice, "Rex has run away fromme. What shall I do?"
Dick straightened stiffly, his hands upon his aching loins, and peeredthrough the smoke at her.
"I guess the only thing to do, then, is to get into the wagon overthere. You can drive, Trix, if you want to, and that will give usanother man here. I was just going to have some one take you home;now--the Lord only knows!--you're liable to have to stay till morning.Rex will go home, all right; you needn't worry about him."
He bent to the work again, and she could hear the wet sack thud, thudupon the ground. Other sacks and blankets went thud, thud, and down hereat close range the fire was not so beautiful as it had been from thehilltop. Down here the glamour was gone. She climbed up to the highwagon seat and took the reins from the man, who immediately seized upona sack and went off to the fight. She felt that she was out of touch.She was out on the prairie at night, miles away from any house, drivinga water-wagon for the men to put out a prairie fire. She had driven acoaching-party once on a wager; but she had never driven a lumber-wagonwith barrels of water before. She could not think of any girl she knewwho had.
It was a new experience, certainly, but she found no pleasure in it; shewas tired and sleepy, and her eyes and throat smarted cruelly with thesmoke. She looked back to the hill she had just left, and it seemeda long, long time since she sat upon a rock up there and watched thelittle, new fire grow and grow, and the strange shadows spring up fromnowhere and beat it vindictively till it died.
Again she wondered vaguely who had done it; not Keith Cameron, surely,for Sir Redmond had all but accused him openly of setting the rangeafire. Would he stamp out a blaze that was just reaching a size to domischief, if left a little longer? No one would have seen it for hours,probably. He would undoubtedly have let it run, unless--But who elsecould have set the fire? Who else would want to see the Pine Ridgecountry black and barren? Dick said Keith Cameron would not sit down andtake his medicine--perhaps Dick knew he would do this thing.
As the fighters moved on across the coulee she drove the wagon to keeppace with them. Often a man would run up to the wagon, climb upon awheel and dip a frayed gunny sack into a barrel, lift it out and runwith it, all dripping, to the nearest point of the fire. Her part wasto keep the wagon at the most convenient place. She began to feel theimportance of her position, and to take pride in being always at theright spot. From the calm appreciation of the picturesque side, shedrifted to the keen interest of the one who battles against heavy odds.The wind had veered again, and the flames rushed up the long couleelike an express train. But the path it left was growing narrower everymoment. Keith Cameron was doing grand work with his crew upon the otherside, and the space between them was shortening perceptibly.
Beatrice found herself watching the work of the Cross men. If they weredoing it for effect, they certainly were acting well their part. Shewondered what would happen when the two crews met, and the danger wasover. Would Sir Redmond call Keith Cameron to account for what he haddone? If he did, what would Keith say? And which side would Dick take?Very likely, she thought, he would defend Keith Cameron, and shield himif he could.
Beatrice found herself crying quietly, and shivering, though the air wassultry with the fire. For the life of her, she could not tell why shecried, but she tried to believe it was the smoke in her eyes. Perhaps itwas.
The sky was growing gray when the two crews met. The orange lights weregone, and Dick, with a spiteful flop of the black rag which had been agood, new sack, stamped out the last tiny red tongue of the fire. Themen stood about in awkward silence, panting with heat and weariness. SirRedmond was ostentatiously filling his pipe. Beatrice knew him by hisstraight, soldierly pose. In the drab half-light they were all mereblack outlines of men, and, for the most part, she could not distinguishone from another. Keith Cameron she knew; instinctively by his slimheight, and by the way he carried his head. Unconsciously, she leaneddown from the high seat and listened for what would come next.
Keith seemed to be making a cigarette. A match flared and lighted hisface for an instant, then was pinched out, and he was again only a blackshape in the half-darkness.
"Well, I'm waiting for what you've got to say, Sir Redmond." His voicecut sharply through the silence. If he had known Beatrice was out therein the wagon he would have spoken lower, perhaps.
"I fancy I said all that is necessary just now," Sir Redmond answeredcalmly. "You know what I think. From now on I shall act."
"And what are you going to do, then?" Keith's voice was clear andunperturbed, as though he asked for the sake of being polite.
"That," retorted Sir Redmond, "is my own affair. However, since thematter concerns you rather closely, I will say that when I have theevidence I am confident I shall find, I shall seek the proper channelsfor retribution. There are laws in this country, aimed to protecta man's property, I take it. I warn you that I shall not spare--theguilty."
"Dick, it's up to you next. I want to know where you stand."
"At your back, Keith, right up to the finish. I know you; you fightfair."
"All right, then. I didn't think you'd go back on a fellow. And I tellyou straight up, Sir Redmond Hayes, I'm not out touching matches torange land--not if it belonged to the devil himself. I've got somefeeling for the dumb brutes that would have to suffer. You can get rightto work hunting evidence, and be damned! You're dead welcome to all youcan find; and in this part of the country you won't be able to buy much!You know very well you deserve to get your rope crossed, or you wouldn'tbe on the lookout for trouble. Come, boys; let's hit the trail. So long,Dick!"
Beatrice watched them troop off to their horses, heard them mount andgo tearing off across the burned coulee bottom toward home. Dick cameslowly over to her.
"I expect you're good and tired, sis. You've made a hand, all right, andhelped us a whole lot, I can tell you. I'll drive now, and we'll hit thehigh places."
Beatrice smiled wanly. Not one of her Eastern acquaintances wouldhave recognized Beatrice Lansell, the society beauty, in thisremarkable-looking young woman, attired in a most haphazard fashion,with a face grimed like a chimney sweep, red eyelids drooping overtired, smarting eyes, and disheveled, ash-filled hair topped by aman's gray felt hat. When she smiled her teeth shone dead white, like anegro's.
Dick regarded her
critically, one foot on the wheel hub. "Where did youget hold of Keith Cameron's hat?" he inquired.
Beatrice snatched the hat from her head with childish petulance, andlooked as if she were going to throw it viciously upon the ground. Ifher face had been clean Dick might have seen how the blood had rushedinto her cheeks; as it was, she was safe behind a mask of soot. Sheplaced the hat back upon her head, feeling, privately, a bit foolish.
"I supposed it was yours. I took it off the halltree." The dignity ofher tone was superb, but, unfortunately, it did not match her appearanceof rakish vagabondage.
Dick grinned through a deep layer of soot "Well, it happens to beKeith's. He lost it in the wind the other day, and I found it and tookit home. It's too bad you've worn his hat all night and didn't know it.You ought to see yourself. Your own mother won't know you, Trix."
"I can't look any worse than you do. A negro would be white bycomparison. Do get in, so we can start! I'm tired to death, andhalf-starved." After these unamiable remarks, she refused to open herlips.
They drove silently in the gray of early morning, and the empty barrelsdanced monotonously their fantastic jig in the back of the wagon.Sootyfaced cowboys galloped wearily over the prairie before them, andSir Redmond rode moodily alongside.
Of a truth, the glamour was gone.