thought it must be some
mist-wreath hovering over its brow; but soon the dense rolling clouds
rapidly spread on each side, and he felt certain that it was from fire,
and nothing but fire,_[FN: Appendix I.]_ that those dark volumes
arose.

"Louis, look yonder! the hills to the east are on fire."

"On fire, Hector? you are dreaming!"

"Nay, but look there!"

The hills were now shrouded in one dense, rolling, cloud; it moved on
with fearful rapidity down the shrubby side of the hill, supplied by
the dry, withered foliage and deer-grass, which was like stubble to the
flames.

"It is two miles off, or more," said Louis; "and the creek will stop its
progress long before it comes near us--and the swamp there, beyond Bare
Hill."

"The cedars are as dry as tinder; and as to the creek, it is so narrow,
a burning tree falling across would convey the fire to this side;
besides, when the wind rises, as it always does when the bush is on
fire, you know how far the burning leaves will fly. Do you remember when
the forest was on fire last spring, how long it continued to burn, and
how fiercely it raged! It was lighted by the ashes of your father's
pipe, when he was out in the new fallow; the leaves were dry, and
kindled; and before night the woods were burning for miles." "It was
a grand spectacle, those pine-hills, when the fire got in among them,"
said Louis.. "See, see how fast the fires kindle; that must be some
fallen pine that they have got hold of; now, look at the lighting up of
that hill--is it not grand?"

"If the wind would but change, and blow in the opposite direction!" said
Hector, anxiously.

"The wind, mon ami, seems to have little influence; for as long as
the fire finds fuel from the dry bushes and grass, it drives on, even
against the wind."

As they spoke the wind freshened, and they could plainly see a long line
of wicked, bright flames, in advance of the dense mass of vapour
which hung in its rear. On it came, that rolling sea of flame, with
inconceivable rapidity, gathering strength as it advanced. The demon
of destruction spread its red wings to the blast, rushing on with fiery
speed; and soon hill and valley were wrapped in one sheet of flame.

"It must have been the work of the Indians," said Louis. "We had better
make a retreat to the island, in case of the fire crossing the valley.
We must not neglect the canoe; if the fire sweeps round by the swamp, it
may come upon us unawares, and then the