CHAPTER V
A DARING FEAT
As sunset turned the wind down canyon, all hands made a sally down themountain side in the hope of establishing a line of back-fire, but theground soon became too hot for them, while the air was filled chokinglywith ash and char-dust. They had to retreat to the ridge. It was a nightnever to be forgotten.
When the wind turned at dawn,--with their line still intact,--theexhausted party took turn and turn about, snatching a few hours' sleep,wrapped in their blankets on the rocks, or making coffee.
Ace had forgotten all about his wireless message when, shortly afternoon, his own ship arrived. It had had a search for him, and had landed,apparently, on the very ledge of basalt where the DeHaviland had pickedthem up.
The beauty of the Spanish ship was that it was built to land on a spaceno bigger than a house roof. It carried two propellers at the top. Thepilot had only to start these and it sucked itself straight up into theair. Then he twirled the propeller on the front and sailed away, aseasily as you please.
He landed by reversing these operations. He could alight on a shed roofif he had to, (provided, of course, that the roof was flat). The onlydanger would be if the propellers should go on strike.
"I've been getting a wireless message," said the pilot. "There! Bettertake it, Mr. King," to Ace.
Ace's eyes grew dark as he interpreted the frantic ticking that hisapparatus gave him. "Why--_Rosa's_ sending this!--She's marooned--thereat the Red Top fire-outlook!--'Fire on three sides, on fourth, rapids ofKawa River Gorge. Send help--if you can,'" he translated, while the boyswaited, breathless. "Three men where first-fire started--silverbuttons--shining in the sun."
"That sounds like Mexicans!" said Pedro.
"Now what?" asked Norris. "Where's the Ranger, do you suppose?" But justthen he saw a flaming branch blown across their line. Like tinder thedried firs burst into a shower of sparks, and with a call to the men, hedarted after it. Ace remained behind to wireless, and Ted to quench theircook-fire, while Ace's pilot flung off his coat and ran after the firefighters.
Ace King did one thing supremely well. He knew his ship. He was born tofly.
"Hey, Ted," he brought a certain line of reasoning to a head, "the Rangercan't _land_ with that DeHaviland, if he does go after Rosa. You know thelayout on Red Top." (The boys had passed that way.)
"Yeh,--Caesar!--That's right. No place there half large enough for thebombing-plane!--That poor kid!" He shuddered. "What's the answer?" for hesaw that Ace had some plan. "I'm with you!"
"Just this. We can't leave her there to be burned alive. Radcliffe can'tdo any more than we can about it. Besides, he's got his hands full,wherever he is. But a forest guard was _killed_ last year directing firefighters from a plane. Went into a tail spin and fell into the flames."
"I know. It's mighty dangerous flying over a fire. Isn't there anythingRosa can do?"
"That's just what----" Ace hesitated, deep in thought.
"I've heard of people taking refuge in caves, but where would she findthe cave?--'N' I've heard of 'em going to a rock-slide and piling up abarricade of stone and lying behind it while the fire swept that way. Itcuts off some of the heat and flying sparks----"
"Look here!" Ace vociferated with the suddenness of a machine gun. "I'mgoing for her."
"What----!"
"Yes, sir! I can land there, anyway. Then if it queers the machine, I'lltake Rosa down to the rapids. I know a fellow that was in a big fire inMontana. When it cut them off, each man soaked his blanket and got underit in midstream while the fire jumped to the other bank. They made a sortof tepee around their heads, got clear under water, and just came up foran occasional breath. Gee! He says it roared like a thousand trains asit swept over them. So that's what we'll do--that is, unless we can getback in the ship."
Unconsciously he patted his machine, and Ted knew what it would mean tohim to lose it.
"Perhaps--perhaps you _can_ bring it back," he ventured.
"Sure thing!" Ace gave his spirits a toss. "Anyway, here goes!--Good-by."
"What's the idea?" yelled Ted aggrievedly. "Going to leave your side-kickbehind?" and he climbed into the observer's place.
"Coming!" Ace wirelessed the girl. "Be on meadow--we'll pick you up."
"If our propellers don't go on strike," he added to himself. Still heknew he could slow to 80 miles an hour and pancake down. He would firstcircle well away from the fire, with its super-heated air column, tillthey came to the gorge of the Kawa. There would be a narrow zone, hefigured, of less destructive atmosphere, the air channel over the2,000-foot canyon.
With a peek at castor oil and gasoline, they started, looping and curvingstraight to 15,000 feet, then Westward, away from the fire zone. Thoughthe day was fair, the spiral of hot air rising above the flaming forestkept them pitching and lurching in a short chop that made Ted look green,and gave even Ace a cold feeling at the pit of his stomach.
The sea of snow-clad peaks slid by beneath them, the sun flashing fromthe granite slopes. Rising and falling, rising and falling in the rough,upper air, they felt as if they were in a swift elevator. A cloud to theWest looked like a fleecy carpet beneath them. The West wind keptswinging the machine till Ace had continually to bring it back in linewith the rapids of the Kawa which was his objective point.
It took but instants, though it seemed ages to both boys. Now it was timeto race quivering down the gorge of canyon-cooled air. Would they makeit against the devastating breath of the flames!--Now they were lookingstraight down into that picture of red and--black. Rosa, watchingfrantically from the wee patch of green which was her mountain meadow,looked like a dot with waving arms. The air became a stretch of dizzyrapids. The combined roar of the flames and the river beneath nearlydrowned the nearer sound of the descending 'plane.
Raced quivering down the gorge of canyon-cooled air.]
With heart that fluttered near to bursting, Ace accomplished the quickswoop, Ted snatched the girl aboard, and they were up again.
The miracle had been accomplished!--The mountains lay like a relief mapbeneath them, greenest down the canyons that branches Westward from thegleaming crest of the main divide, the snow-capped peaks gleaming silverin the sunlight. The fire zone lay like a small inferno behind them.
Back at fire-fighting headquarters, Ace's nerves took toll of him intrembling knees. He had been all steel. Now he literally dropped in histracks, and in ten minutes was fast asleep.
Rosa, now that the danger was all over, broke down and wept hysterically,to Ted's infinite embarrassment.
Norris was just returning with the triumphant fire-fighters. They hadactually not missed them. When, four hours later, Ace awoke and respondedto Pedro's "Come and get it!" as he ladled out the ham and beans, hefound himself a hero, and Ted his press agent.
"This country would do well to emulate France," Norris was explaining."France offers a government subsidy to encourage commercial aviation. OurCongress has thus far refused to realize the need of appropriations. Forit is by trade that aviation will develop.
"We need above all things more airplane fire patrols. We have the men,trained aviators left from the war,--we have the equipment, and the mencould protect not only our National Forests, but at the same time keep awatchful eye on the millions of acres of state lands and timber privatelyowned, which lie adjacent to Government holdings.
"Do you fellows realize that in five years, areas have been burned thatwould more than fill the state of Utah! At that rate how long will ourforests last? And think what a paper famine alone would mean!" He pausedfor lack of breath to express the intensity of his feeling.
"Hundreds of men have given up their lives in the service,--fightingfire."
"Yes," said Ace, "but Dad says there's a bigger fight to put up inCongress for forestry appropriations."
"Your father is doing good work," stated Norris.
"He's trying to, you bet!"
"These fire-fighting 'planes can sail over the highest peaks in theUnited
States. They can travel 14 hours without a landing. They cancommunicate with those below by radio. And they don't have to have smoothlanding places, merely ground that is free from stumps. We have overtwenty million acres of National Forests alone, (not counting those inAlaska), and they are worth $220,000,000."
"Gee! And there's just as much risk as in dodging enemy 'planes," Tedenthused, "flying over fires, and finding landing places when your motorgoes on strike." His eyes glowed across at Ace.
"Huh, you're safe enough above a thousand feet," minimized Ace, modestly."These accidents practically all happen below a thousand feet."
But by now supper was eaten, and it was time to get back to work. Norris,acting on Radcliffe's suggestion, had been stationing the men atintervals to back-fire as far down the ridge as they could stand theheat. If anything, the fire seemed bigger than it had the nightbefore,--a maelstrom of the inferno.
They worked in pairs, Ace being his, Norris's, right hand man. He nowassorted the six miners along the slope, planning himself to take theextreme Western post, where the ridge ran lowest and where the rockycrest dwindled to a dangerous line of mountain pines.
Ted and Pedro he directed to the opposite end of the ridge, where, likethe tooth of a comb, it joined the main crest of the Sierra,--anotherstrategic point.
"If worst comes to worst," his final words were, "take refuge in somecave. This is a limestone region,--as you may have noticed,--and it'slikely riddled with caves. Keep an eye out for indications of cavemouths. I saw one yesterday, somewhere down there, when I didn't havetime to investigate."
"All right," acquiesced the boys, though inwardly scorning thepossibility.
Rosa remained at camp to have food ready for the men on their return.
She began by taking stock. There was flour and lard, but no bread. Shewould have to bake for eleven hungry men. There were rice, beans, onionsand tomatoes, dried fruits and coffee, and fresh meat for one meal, andfor the next, erbwurst and pickles, macaroni to be baked with cheese, andtea. She hoped--for more reasons than one--that the Ranger would bringmore supplies. She got out the Dutch oven and the gallon coffee pot, andwith the hatchet provided with the outfit, started getting in a supply ofdown-wood.
As on the day of the rodeo, she was attired in trim khaki riding breechesand high-heeled moccasin boots,--good on horseback but mighty hard towalk in, where the ground was rough. Her bobbed curly hair, red silkblouse and fringed sash added a touch of the Rosa that underlay hergritty side. She would surprise Radcliffe with her ability to cook for afire crew.
The huge loaf safely ensconced in a Dutch oven buried in red coals, shesallied forth on a little exploring expedition. She wished she might findsome fir sugar to cap the feast. She had, once, when camping in theThompson River Valley. She had found the delectable sweet on a Douglasfir. Some of the dry white masses had been all of two inches long, thoughmost of it had been in the form of mere white drops at the tips of theneedles. There had also been a quantity of it in a semi-liquid conditionon the ground underneath the tree, where some rain had dissolved it fromthe branches.
Just where should she search? The Indians had told her that time to lookon the dry Eastern slopes of the range, in open areas where the trees gotlots of sunlight, but where the ground has not dried out too quicklyafter the spring rains, as moisture is necessary as well assunlight,--(so long as it does not rain and melt off this excess of thetree's digested starch). She had a hunch that she could find some on thedesert side of the Sierras, that being, of course, unattainable--unlessAce could take her over in his 'plane. It would do no harm to look onthis side.
Neither did it do any good. She returned to camp empty-handed save forsome cones of the sugar pine, which she proceeded to roast that the nutsmight fall out of the spiny masses.
She found the deserted camp over-run with chipmunks. The little stripedrascals had ravaged all the food supplies they could nibble into. Shewatched a couple of them actually shoving on the tin lid that she hadleft insecurely loose on the syrup can. Finally sending it clattering tothe stony ground,--as she watched from behind two trees that grew closetogether,--the wee things sat up there on the edge of the can, dippingout its contents with their hand-like paws and licking them. Then onetried to reach down and drink it outright, at which he fell in, and Rosafelt impelled to fish him out and launder him,--to his terror,--beforeturning him loose, then put the syrup on the fire to sterilize.
Meantime what of the fire fighters? Ted and Pedro, with their pick andshovel, had descended rapidly into that deathly silence of the doomedforest slopes, deserted alike by song birds and chipmunks, the hum ofinsects and sound of any living thing, save alone the never-ceasing roarof the ravenous flames.
The fire had been eating slowly through a stretch of manzanita chaparral,whose hard stems resisted them as the evergreens could not. Though thewind still blew up-canyon, they approached the river gorge at rightangles, and were able to make their way to the lower levels in theshelter of the East side of a dry creek bed, where the hot blast couldnot reach them.
They were stooping to drink at a spring when the terrified neigh of ahorse sounded from a clump of saplings almost behind them. In the sameinstant the stretch of seedling firs that clothed the creek bank,showering into sparks at the far end, shot toward them sky rockets ofleaping flame. Turning in a panic to race out at right angles from thisunexpected peril, they thought to make time on horseback. The animalwas tied and hobbled with a rawhide lariat!
Frantically the hobbled horse jerked at the rawhide.
Pedro plucked Ted by the arm and tried to drag him on, for the fire wassnapping through the underbrush at the speed of an express train. Itssound was that of many trains, and its wind hot as the breath of a blastfurnace.
But as Ted had stooped to cut the thongs, his parched nostrils had caughta cooler breath. It seemed to issue from a cranny in the rocks behind theclump of saplings. Then it was too late: The shooting tongues of red wereupon them. Dragging Pedro down beside him,--for the roar drowned hisvoice,--he waited, reasoning that the two- or three-foot seedlings wouldgo like tinder, leaving a strip of ground hot, to be sure, but no longerflaming.
If they could but endure its passing! He turned to press his scorchedface against the rock wall.
To his amazement, he fell into a cave mouth, tripping Pedro, who stumbledafter him. Quick as thought they dragged the horse in after them and heldhim, trembling and snorting, his eyes rolling wildly, during thatblistering moment until the line of fire had passed them.
"We're safer now than before," declared Ted. "This made a fine back-fire,didn't it?--Let's rest awhile." His nerves were taking toll of him."Ground's too _hot yet_ anyway."
For perhaps an hour they rested, flat on the floor of the cave,--afterhaving tied the horse to a bowlder just outside. He was a fine animal,black as jet and as high-spirited as Spitfire himself. Ted appraised himwith longing eyes, for he loved horses as Ace loved his ship. But whocould he belong to, and how did he come to be there?
His bridle was embellished with silver. "Mexican handiwork, that!" Pedrothought. But the mystery was no nearer solution.
The answer came sooner than they expected.