From the centre of one of the burning patches they saw a riderless horse gallop out, stop for a moment with his head almost between its fore-legs, shake himself furiously, and gallop blindly on again.

“It’s Lenora’s horse!” Laura cried.  “She must have been thrown.  Come!”

Laura would have turned her horse, but the Professor checked her.

“Let us wait for Quest,” he advised.  “They are close here.”

The cowboy, riding a little behind the two others, had unlimbered his lariat, and, while they watched, swung it over his head and secured the runaway.  Quest galloped up to where Laura and the Professor were waving frantically.

“Say, that’s some fire!” Quest exclaimed.  “Did you people come out to see it?”

“No, we came to find Lenora!” Laura answered breathlessly.  “That’s her horse.  She started to meet you.  She must be somewhere—­”

“Lenora?” Quest interrupted fiercely.  “What do you mean?”

“When I got back to the camp,” Laura continued rapidly, “there wasn’t a soul there except the Chinaman.  He told me that Lenora had ridden off a few minutes before to find you.  We came to look for her.  We found her handkerchief on the road there, and that’s her horse.”

Quest did not wait for another word.  He jumped a rough bush of scrub on the right-hand side, galloped over the ground, which was already hot with the coming fire, and followed along down the road by which Lenora had passed.  When he came to the first bend, he could hear the roar of flames in the trees.  A volume of smoke almost blinded him; his horse became wholly unmanageable.  He slipped from the saddle and ran on, staggering from right to left like a drunken man.  About forty yards along the road, Lenora was lying in the dust.  A volume of smoke rushed over her.  The tree under which she had collapsed was already afire.  A twig fell from it as Quest staggered up, and her skirt began to smoulder.  He tore off his coat, wrapped it around her, beat out the fire which was already blazing at her feet, and snatched her into his arms.  She opened her eyes for a moment.

“Where are we?” she whispered.  “The fire!”

“That’s all right,” Quest shouted.  “We’ll be out of it in a moment.  Hold tight to my neck.”

He braced himself for a supreme effort and ran along the pathway.  His feet were blistered with the heat; there was a great burn on one of his arms.  At last, however, he passed out of the danger zone and staggered up to where the Professor, the Inspector and Laura were waiting.

“Say, that was a close shave,” he faltered, as he laid Lenora upon the ground.  “Another five minutes—­well, we won’t talk about it.  Let’s lift her on to your horse, Laura, and get back to the camp.”

2.

The Professor laid down his book and gazed with an amiable smile towards Quest and Lenora.

“I fear,” he remarked dolefully, “that my little treatise on the fauna of the Northern Orinoco scarcely appeals to you, Mr. Quest.”