channels for the Chinook wind from the Pacific, but now and then a dry,
cold current flows down them to the coast.

"It won't bother us unless the wind changes," he remarked. "In this
country, however, the wind generally does change when you'd sooner it
did not, and it's not safe to trust your luck much. Looks as if Nature
had put up her shingle on the mountains, warning the white man off."

"But white men do live in the mountains," Carrie objected.

"Men who are strong enough. They must fight for a footing and then use
the best tools other men can make to hold the ground they've won.
We're scouts, carrying axes, saws, and giant-powder, but the main body
must cooperate to defend its settlements with civilization's heavy
machines. It's sure a hard country, and sometimes it gets me scared!"

Carrie laughed. "You're romantic when you talk about the North. Could
the fire bother us?"

"That depends. It couldn't burn the line, though it might burn the
posts. If it spread and rolled up the valley, it might put us off the
ground and stop the job."

"While we waited the boys would have to be fed and wages would run on,"
Carrie said in a thoughtful voice. "How do the fires start?"

"Nobody knows. I allow it looks ridiculous, but my notion is some
fires start themselves; you'll find them burning in belts of woods the
Indians and prospectors leave alone. Some are probably started by
cooking fires. The man who knows the bush is careful; the tenderfoot
is not."

"Then you don't think somebody may have had an object for lighting this
fire?"

"On the whole, I reckon not. The chances against its bothering us are
too steep. For all that, I'd like it better if the blaze went out."

Carrie said nothing, and for a time they watched the light. Sometimes
it leaped up and sometimes it faded, but it got larger, and when they
went to bed a red reflection played about the sky. In the morning
there was no wind and a heavy trail of smoke stretched across the
hills. In places, a bright flicker pierced the dark trail, and Carrie
noted a smell of burning when she filled the kettle. Then she saw Jim
watching the smoke.

"It's nearer and bigger, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes," said Jim, quietly. "It's bigger than I like. We'll go along
and look at it after breakfast."

They ate quickly and when the meal was over Jim and Carrie set off
while Jake went to work. It was not easy to push through the tangled
bush, and now an