CHAPTER XVII
"This looks as if the whole camp would be swept away!" cried Owen, as he and Dale hurried back to the cabin with the others.
"The fire will certainly lick out a big portion of the forest," answered Dale. "And by the look of things, I begin to think we'll be lucky if we get out with a whole skin."
"Perhaps we would have done better had we remained at the Wilbur lodge."
"Never mind, we have the horses and can go back, if the worst comes to the worst."
The lumbermen were soon at the cabin, and then, amid considerable confusion, the things there were packed and loaded on the horses and mules. Dale and Owen had a valise apiece, and also a box containing the precious musical instruments and other things, and these they strapped on the Wilbur horses.
The retreat came none too soon, for the wind was blowing more wildly than ever, and the sparks and embers were flying in all directions over their heads, scaring the horses and mules, and starting a fresh fire wherever they landed.
"That's the end of this tract," said Andrews sorrowfully. "It won't grow up again in fifty years."
"It will be a big loss to Mr. Paxton," answered Owen. "Maybe it will ruin him."
"That wind means a storm," said Gilroy. "But it aint coming just yet."
Away they went, and hardly had they left the clearing when they saw the barn and one of the shanties catch fire, and presently the cabin followed.
The men started for Pine Tree Lake, but long before that body of water was reached the flames headed them off and they were forced to turn in another direction. They could now hear the distant rumble of thunder, and all prayed earnestly that the storm might come speedily, and prove of sufficient strength to drown out the fire.
"We are getting hemmed in," said Gilroy, at last, as he called a halt. "Do you see that flicker of fire on Two-Top Mountain? That's coming this way too. It's a different fire altogether from the one back of us."
Between the smoke and the clouds in the sky the sun was now no longer visible, and only the conflagration at a distance lit up the weird scene. Again came a rumble of thunder, and then a distant flash of lightning told them that the storm was coming up more quickly than they had anticipated.
"If it had only come early this morning," said Andrews, as the first drops began to fall. "Then thousands of dollars' worth of lumber would have been spared."
"Let us be thankful that it has come, even at this hour," answered Dale.
Soon the storm was on them in all its fury, the fierce blasts of wind hurling the fire all around them. Then came flash after flash of vivid lightning, and thunderbolts that seemed to fairly split the heavens. A deluge of rain followed, causing the fire to hiss and steam and send out huge volumes of black smoke that all but suffocated them. The horses and mules were tied up with their heads close to the ground, and each person of the party hurled himself flat.
It was a grand display of natural elements, but it cannot be said that anybody in the party enjoyed it. All were grateful for the rain, but as the lightning continued, and one tree after another in that vicinity, was struck down, each was awed into utter silence.
At last came a lull and the center of the storm passed to the northward. The rain still fell in torrents, but to this they paid little attention. The worst of the smoke was clearing away, allowing them to breathe more freely. One by one the men arose and began to look after the frightened horses and mules. One horse had gotten away, and sped into the burning territory, and he was never seen again.
"Well, I guess this is the last of the fire," said Owen, as he arose. "This rain looks as if it would hold out for the rest of the day."
"What do you think Gilroy will do next?" questioned Dale.
A consultation was held, and the foreman decided to lead the way back to the cabin, as soon as the trail was safe. They went into a temporary camp, and there, under some wide-spreading trees, untouched by the flames, remained until daybreak.
The next day the rain continued, although much more lightly than before. Some food had been brought along, and a hasty breakfast was prepared. As soon as they had eaten, the return to the abandoned camp was begun.
It was discovered that the stables had been completely consumed by the fire, along with two shanties and a tool house. The cabin still stood, with only a small corner gone. But it was water-soaked, and filled with a burnt smell far from pleasant, and would need a good deal of cleaning and patching before it could again be inhabited.
"The timber isn't as bad as I thought," said the foreman, after an inspection. "But the loss is enough to make Mr. Paxton feel sick;" and so it proved.
As there was nothing to do until the owner of the place could be heard from, Dale and Owen took the next day off to visit the Wilbur lodge, and return the horses that had been loaned to them. They found the buildings had not been touched by the fire, but the flames had eaten well into the forest of the preserve, and the beautiful driveway that Jefferson Wilbur had had made at considerable expense was littered with fallen trees and half-burnt shrubbery.
"We were badly frightened when the storm came on," said Mrs. Wilbur. "It blew so hard and lightened so repeatedly we did not know what to make of it."
"Jasper had a fit," put in little Bertie. "He was so scared he fell in a heap."
"Bertie!" said his mother reprovingly, but she had to smile, for the little fellow had told the exact truth.
"It's going to make a big difference up here among the loggers," said Owen. "There won't be nearly so much cut next season as last."
"That will be hard on you, won't it?" questioned the lady.
"We don't know yet—we've got to wait until the foreman hears from Mr. Paxton."
The pair were invited by Mrs. Wilbur to dine at the lodge, but declined, for neither felt that his dress was suitable for the occasion. She noticed their embarrassment and did not press them, but insisted on their coming again when Mr. Wilbur was there.
"He will wish to thank you, as I have done, for saving the children," said she.
On the return to the Paxton camp, the two walked through the woods to take note of what portion had been touched by the fire. They reported their findings to Gilroy, and the foreman afterward told Mr. Paxton.
When the owner arrived he considered the situation for several days, and held a consultation with several other timber-land owners. The result of this conference was that the building of the road to the lake was abandoned; and all work in the camp came, for the time being, to an end.
"Now we are out of employment again," said Dale to Owen, after they had been paid off. "This job didn't last near as long as we had expected."
"Well, Mr. Paxton isn't responsible for the forest fire, Dale, so we can't blame him. The question is, what shall we do next?"
"Guess we had better strike down the river and look for work—unless you can think of something better."
"I've half a notion to go out West. It seems to me that there are more chances out there than here."
"Out West! Do you mean away out to Oregon or Washington?"
"Not quite as far as that—at first. We might go from here to Buffalo, and try to get a job on one of the lumber boats to some place in Michigan or Wisconsin, and then try it there for a while. If that didn't suit, we could push on further."
"Providing our money didn't give out. It costs money to travel."
"Oh, I thought we could work our way for the most part. I wasn't going to touch our bank account, or very much of our other savings."
"We'd have to pay the railroad fare to Buffalo—although it may be possible to get on a canal boat at Albany, and go through that way. It would take some time, but it would be cheap traveling."
"The plan is certainly worth considering, anyway," said Owen; and they talked it over for fully an hour. But they reached the conclusion it would be best to see what could be done along the Penobscot before leaving Maine.
A week later found them in Bangor. They had made six stops on the way, to find all the lumber yards and mills well supplied with hands. At an employment agency in Bangor they were told that thirty-four men were on the list ahead of them.
"This doesn't look very encouraging," remarked Dale.
"I should say it looked very discouraging," answered Owen.
They put up at their former boarding-house, and on returning to the place that evening found a letter there for Owen, from his uncle in Michigan. The young lumberman perused the communication with much interest, and then read it aloud to his chum. The letter ran as follows:
"Dear Owen: I take up my pen to find out how you are getting on these days. I have been reading about the forest fires up the Penobscot, and see by one account that the Paxton tract was burnt over. Does that throw you out of a job, or are you working at one of the mills again? The fellows who set the forest on fire ought to be hung, or made to pay for damages done. We caught one fellow setting the timber afire here, and run him out of the county in a hurry. He owed me ten dollars for the hire of a horse, so I lost on him, as the lumbermen did not give him time to settle up."If times get too hard, you had better take my advice and come out here. I'll board you at a reasonable figure, and if you can do a full man's work, I'll give you a man's wages. I am short several hands, so now is your chance. But don't come unless you are willing to work, for I have no place for idlers. I am going to start on a new cut of timber the first of next month, and it might be I could make you the boss of a logging gang, if you knew enough to fill the place."I now own an interest in the Gamoine Lumber Company of Michigan, with offices at Detroit, so if you come on stop at Detroit and they will tell you at the offices just where to find me. I don't have much to do with the office end of the business. I get out the timber, and they sell it. We are doing fairly well, although prices are not what they might be."We are all well, and your Aunt Maria sends her love to you. She says she would like you to send on some newspapers from her old home if you get the chance."Write and let me know if you think of coming before I send that next gang out."Your affectionate uncle,"John W. Hoover."
"Dear Owen: I take up my pen to find out how you are getting on these days. I have been reading about the forest fires up the Penobscot, and see by one account that the Paxton tract was burnt over. Does that throw you out of a job, or are you working at one of the mills again? The fellows who set the forest on fire ought to be hung, or made to pay for damages done. We caught one fellow setting the timber afire here, and run him out of the county in a hurry. He owed me ten dollars for the hire of a horse, so I lost on him, as the lumbermen did not give him time to settle up.
"If times get too hard, you had better take my advice and come out here. I'll board you at a reasonable figure, and if you can do a full man's work, I'll give you a man's wages. I am short several hands, so now is your chance. But don't come unless you are willing to work, for I have no place for idlers. I am going to start on a new cut of timber the first of next month, and it might be I could make you the boss of a logging gang, if you knew enough to fill the place.
"I now own an interest in the Gamoine Lumber Company of Michigan, with offices at Detroit, so if you come on stop at Detroit and they will tell you at the offices just where to find me. I don't have much to do with the office end of the business. I get out the timber, and they sell it. We are doing fairly well, although prices are not what they might be.
"We are all well, and your Aunt Maria sends her love to you. She says she would like you to send on some newspapers from her old home if you get the chance.
"Write and let me know if you think of coming before I send that next gang out.
"Your affectionate uncle,
"John W. Hoover."