Bert Wilson's Twin Cylinder Racer Page 11

  CHAPTER XI

  THE FLAMING FOREST

  Early on the morning of the eighth day of the trip, Bert crossedthe line into Oklahoma. He found little difference in the roads heencountered, most of them being of a very poor description. But by thistime he was used to all sorts of going, and could listen withoutlaughing, when one of the natives, in a fit of enthusiasm, would speakof some atrocious path as a "highway."

  Of course, in isolated instances some village or town had inaugurated a"good roads" movement, and then Bert found nothing to complain of. Butas a rule the roads were inferior, and he found fast travel practicallyimpossible.

  He rode steadily, however, and by noon had made fairly good progress. Henow found himself in a thickly wooded country, and rode mile after milein a deep shade that was very grateful after some of the blisteringhours in the open he had been forced to undergo. There was a briskbreeze blowing, and the leaves rustled pleasantly, allowing slendershafts of sunlight to flicker through them as they swayed and whispered.

  Bert drew in great breaths of the fragrant air, redolent of a thousandwoody odors, and wished that the whole of his journey lay through suchpleasant places. After a while he came to a beautiful little glenthrough which ran a sparkling brook.

  "Just the place to eat lunch," thought Bert, and quickly brought the"Blue Streak" to a standstill. Dismounting, he unpacked his lunch box,and, sitting down on a broad, flat-topped rock at the edge of thestream, ate contentedly.

  "This place is a regular little Garden of Eden," he mused. "There mustbe fish in that stream. If I only had a hook and line along, I'll wagerI'd get some sport out of it." Then another thought struck him. "ByJove!" he exclaimed aloud, "a swim would feel mighty good now, and theremust be a place deep enough for one somewhere around here. I'm going onan exploring expedition, anyway."

  Sure enough, around a slight bend in the stream he discovered a poolthat almost looked as though it had been made to order. A gigantic treehad fallen across the stream, forming a natural dam. The clear water ranover and under it with a tinkling, splashing sound, and Bert gave ashout of joy.

  "Here goes for a glorious swim," he cried, and, undressing hastily,plunged in. The water was icy cold, and for a moment the shock of ittook away his breath and made his heart stand still. But in a fewseconds the reaction came, and he splashed around, and even managed toswim a few strokes in the deepest part.

  "This is great," he thought. "I wouldn't have missed it for worlds. It'stoo bad the old 'Blue Streak' can't enjoy it with me." He smiled as thisabsurd thought crossed his mind, but little knew how much of prophecythere was in it.

  When he felt thoroughly refreshed, he climbed out to the bank, andquickly slipped into his clothes. "I can dry out as I go along," hethought, with a grin. "Somebody evidently forgot to hang bath towels onthese trees. Very careless of them, _I_ think."

  He hurried back to where he had left the motorcycle, and soon was oncemore purring along the woodland track. He had traveled something lessthan an hour, when he began to notice a thin blue haze in the air, andat the same time to smell a pungent smoke. His first thought was that hewas near some settler's cabin, but as he rode on he could see no sign ofhuman habitation, and the green forest stretched away on both sides ofthe road without any break that might denote a trail.

  But the smoke kept getting heavier every second, and suddenly the truthsmote him like a blow in the face. "A forest fire," he thought, "aforest fire! and here I am, in the heart of these woods, with absolutelyno way of escape, that I can see." Even as these thoughts flashedthrough his mind, a rabbit dashed out onto the road, so mad with terrorthat it almost ran under the wheels of the motorcycle.

  Bert brought his machine to a standstill with a jerk, the back tireskidding as he jammed on his brake. A thousand plans raced through hishead, only to be rejected as soon as formed. Of them all only oneoffered the slightest hope of escape.

  "The brook," he thought, "if I can only get back there I'll have achance to pull through. If the fire beats me to it--well, there will beone less contestant in this race, that's all."

  He lifted the motorcycle bodily from the ground, in his excitement anddire need, handling it as easily as he would a bicycle, pointing it backthe way he had so lately come. Then, with a shove and a leap he was offon a wild ride, with life itself as the prize.

  He flew swiftly along the narrow trail, careless of ruts and obstructionsthat he had avoided with the greatest care but a short time before. Thesmoke grew thick and choking, reddening his eyes, irritating his lungs.It was only by the greatest good fortune that he avoided a collision withthe panic-stricken animals that dashed across the road in great numbers,disappearing among the underbrush on the other side. Now he could hear adistant roaring and crackling, and great waves of heat billowed down uponhim. He clenched his teeth, and opened the throttle to the utmost. Thewoods streaked away on both sides, and soon he saw that he was nearinghis goal.

  But the fire was traveling fast as well as he, and he could see itleaping through the tops of the trees at no great distance. The heatscorched and burned him, and the motorcycle felt hot to the touch. But,after what seemed an interminable time, he reached the brook, which nowoffered the last chance of safety.

  Scarcely checking his speed, Bert swung off the road. His machineskidded wildly, but the tires gripped in time, and Bert steered for thedeep pool in which he had bathed less than two hours ago. The "BlueStreak" crashed through the underbrush, beating down all opposition byits terrific momentum, the powerful motor forcing it forward like abattering ram. Bert gripped the tank with his knees, and held on grimly,checking his mount at last at the brink of the pool.

  By now, the heat was almost intolerable, but there was still somethingleft for him to do before he could plunge into the cool water. Way backin his camping days he had learned the best way of fighting a forestfire, and now he put his knowledge to account. He applied a light to thegrass and underbrush bordering the pool, and a thin line of flame begancreeping to meet the furious conflagration dashing through the trees.This would leave a narrow belt of charred land around the pool thatwould hold the fire at a little distance, at least.

  This done, Bert seized the handlebars of his motorcycle, and hauled itinto the pool after him, until it was partly immersed.

  "That's the best I can do for you, old friend," he said. "I guess thefire can't reach you there, at any rate."

  Then he waded in until he reached the deepest part of the pool, andwaited for the advance of the devouring element.

  He had plenty of company, as rabbits, foxes, and numerous other wildcreatures continually plunged into the water, their eyes wide withterror, and all thoughts of age-old enmities wiped from their minds.

  The heat grew more intense every moment, and Bert felt the skin on hisface blistering. He took a long breath, and ducked his head completelyunder water. He kept it there until it seemed as though his lungs wouldburst for lack of air, and then lifted it to take another breath. Inthose few seconds the fire had made tremendous strides, and now met thebackfire that Bert had started. He had only time to take a hasty glimpseof all this, and then was forced to duck under again. Every breath hedrew was hot as the blast of a furnace, and seemed fairly to scorch hislungs.

  The fire burned for a few minutes with no appreciable lessening of itsfury, but then, deprived of fuel, gradually passed by on each side ofthe pool. Its terrific roaring slowly died away in the distance, and theunbearable heat abated somewhat, although smoke still hung in a heavypall over the blackened ground.

  At last Bert found he could venture from the water with safety, andaccordingly did so. At the same time the wild creatures who had soughtrefuge in the same place bethought themselves of engagements elsewhere,and scampered off.

  Bert hauled the "Blue Streak" out of the water, and found it practicallyunharmed. Some of the enamel had blistered, but Bert paid littleattention to this, so long as the machine was still in running order. Hehad taken care not to let the water touch the magneto, and so
was ableto start immediately.

  As he rode over the blackened trail, Bert could not help comparing thescene of desolation that now met his eye with the beautiful appearancethe woods had presented so short a time before. In places the groundstill smoked and smouldered, and in others trees burned like gianttorches.

  But Bert realized that he had had a narrow escape from death, and thisthought kept him from dwelling too long on the devastated landscape.After two or three hours' riding, he passed the fire belt, and oncemore entered a flourishing forest. He made steady progress, and beforenightfall reached a fair-sized town. Most of the able-bodied men had notreturned from fighting the fire, and at first the few who were leftwould hardly believe Bert's account of his escape. But a look at theblistered enamel on the motorcycle convinced them, and they united incongratulating him on his good fortune. As one grizzled old fellowremarked, "Thar ain't many folks as can say they've come through aforest fire as easy as you did, son. Thar generally ain't much o' themleft to tell the story."