“It doesn’t seem possible that the woods can be afire,” answered Charley.  “But let’s make sure.  If the forest is afire and we can put it out, it would be a crime if we don’t.  The memory of it would haunt me the rest of my life.”

“All right.  We’ll go down-stream.  If there is a fire, we’ll do our best to put it out.  If there isn’t any fire, there’s no harm done.  We can probably find as many fish down-stream as there are here.  We’ll save time if we unjoint our rods.”

Quickly the lines were reeled up and the rods packed in their cloth cases.  Then, with nothing to hamper them, the two boys hurried down the valley.

Gradually the odor of burning leaves grew stronger.  A very little breeze arose, blowing straight in their faces.  It was heavy with the smell of fire.  Ahead of them the forest began to look gray and misty, as though a heavy night fog still covered the earth.  But both boys knew that the gray blanket was no night mist.  It was smoke.  They quickened their pace.  The smoke cloud grew denser.  Then a dull, reddish glow appeared.  There could no longer be any doubt.  The forest was afire.

“Come on,” cried Charley.  “We’ve got to grab it quick.”

As they started to run, Lew protested:  “Not too fast.  We’ll tire ourselves out before we get there.  We may have a long fight before we put the fire out.”

The smoke now rolled past them in dense clouds.  The red glow grew brighter.  In a few moments they reached the fire itself.  It was in an opening where the timber had been cut and little but brush remained.  It was a ground fire that crept slowly along among the leaves.  Yet it had already spread until it seemed to stretch across half the valley.

“If we can only put it out before the wind comes up,” said Charley, “we can save the forest.”

He looked about for a low tree, discovered a thick, young pine, rapidly chopped off some bushy branches, and again sheathed his axe.  Each boy seized a branch.

“Our rods—­what shall we do with them?” asked Lew.

“Throw ’em in the run.  Fire can’t hurt ’em there and we can get ’em at any time.”

Lew rushed over to the brook and put the rods in the water.  He set a flat stone on them to keep the current from moving them.  Then he dipped his pine bough in the brook and began to beat out the flames, working straight out from the bank.  Charley joined him.  Rapidly they rained blows upon the fire.  Rod after rod they advanced.  The heat from even so small a fire was great.  The smoke was blinding and stifling.  Heat and smoke and their own exertions tired them rapidly.

“We’ve got to take it easier,” said Lew, after a little, “or we’ll be all in before we get the fire half out.”

Of necessity they slackened their efforts.  As they wore out their weapons, they cut new ones.  Every little while they rested.  They were tiring fast.  At the same tune, the wind was beginning to freshen.  Here in the open there was nothing to break its force.  The flames leaped higher under its breath and began to run over the ground instead of crawling.  The fire itself created a draft.  The greater the draft, the hotter the flame became, and the hotter the fire grew, the stronger blew the draft.