the quirt that was fastened on his saddle, the quirt the cattleman had
given him after his ride in the cattle stampede, he laid it with all his
will across the horse's flanks. Never before, since Wilbur had owned the
horse, had he struck him. Frantic, the horse leaped into the stream.
It was deeper than the boy had thought, but there was no time to go
back, and indeed, unless it was taken at a rush, the horse would not
climb the other bank. As they struck the water, therefore, Wilbur rose
in his stirrups and lashed the horse a second time. He felt the horse
plunge under him, picked him up with the reins as he stumbled on the
loose stones in the creek bed and almost fell, and though he was
becoming a rider, "hunted leather" by holding on to the pommel of his
saddle, as the horse with two or three convulsive lunges climbed like a
cat up the opposing bank, and reached the top, trembling in every limb.
The gully was crossed.

But there was no time to pause for satisfaction over the crossing of the
little stream; that was only the beginning. It would have to be crossed
again, higher up, as soon, as they came opposite to the fire. The quirt
was still in his hand, and a light touch with it brought the horse to a
full gallop. Up along the gully, with the blackened forest floor on the
other side, rode Wilbur, until he came to the further end of the fire.
It was almost a mile long. Right where the edge of the fire was, with
little flames leaping among the needles and the smoke rolling, Wilbur
headed the horse for the creek. He expected to have trouble, but the
beast had learned his lesson, and went steadily down the creek and over
to the other side. The return was in nowise difficult, as it was on the
side opposite the fire that the bank was steep. Hastily Wilbur tied up
his horse on the burned-out area, seized his shovel, and started along
the line of the fire, beating it out with the flat of his shovel where
the flames were small, then going to lee of it he made a firebreak by
turning up a narrow line of earth.

His hands began to blister and his lips grew so parched that he could
endure it no longer, and snatched a moment to go back to the stream and
lave his face and hands. He took off his coat, dipped it in the water,
and came with it all dripping to beat out the fire with that. Foot by
foot and yard by yard he worked his way along the line, every once in a
while running back over the part he had already beaten to make sure