ock," said I, as we hurried on.

"We should have been fried brown by this time, if we had remained on
it," answered Ned, giving a glance over his shoulder. "Why, mate, the
flames are dancing round it as merrily as waves in a storm. Cheer up:
we shall do well yet."

Taking courage from him, I pushed on with renewed hope. But this did
not last long. Every moment the fire got nearer and nearer; and already
it seemed to me that the path before us was cut off. By running very
fast we might perhaps get across; but with Pedro to help along, I
thought we could not do it. I felt that I could not leave the poor
fellow, and resolved to remain by him, and perish with him if so it must
be; but I saw no reason why the brave seaman should share our fate, when
he might easily save himself.

"Ned," I cried, when we had reached a spot somewhat more free from grass
than the surrounding ground, "run for it, my good fellow, and save
yourself. I cannot leave my friend, for I owe him much; but he has no
claim whatever upon you. Fly! fly!"

"What, mate? I should be a pretty sort of a seaman if I was to do as
you say," he exclaimed, stopping for a moment to address me. "He's a
fellow-creature in distress, and that's enough for Ned Gale, I hope.
Run--ha! ha! Here, just lift him up on my back, and we'll see what can
be done."

It was the work of a moment to do as he bid me; and throwing me his
knapsack, Ned, with Pedro on his shoulders, set off running, and I after
him, as fast as our legs would carry us. I had before remarked the
great strength Ned possessed when he chose to exert it. He now bore
Pedro along as if he had been a child. Away we dashed right into the
belt of tall grass, one end of which, not many hundred yards' distant,
was already burning. The fire came hissing along towards us like a
fiery serpent. Ned glanced at it over his shoulder, and increased his
exertions. He saw that not a moment could be spared. As I saw it
coming on, I almost shrieked with a terror I had never before felt; and
had I been alone I think I should have fallen. The fire was close upon
us. There was a slight rise in the ground. We rushed up it. I thought
that our doom was sealed, when, to my joy, I discovered that I had been
deceived by the rise as to the width of the belt of grass. A few yards
only of grass had to be passed, when beyond appeared the sandy plain,
without a particle of herbage on it. We felt the heat of the fire--t