f thousands, were their vanguard. The camp lay directly in
the path of fire and buffalo. The awakened sentinels were on
their feet now, and half-clad men were springing from the wagons.

Dick stood perfectly still for perhaps a minute, while the fire
grew brighter and the thunder of a myriad hoofs grew louder.
Then he remembered what he had so often read and heard, and the
crisis stirred him to swift action. While the whole camp was a
scene of confusion, of shouts, of oaths, and of running men, he
sped to its south side, to a point twenty or thirty yards from
the nearest wagon. There he knelt in the dry grass and drew his
box of matches from his pocket. It happened that Conway saw.

"What are you doing, you boy?" he cried, threateningly.

But Dick did not care for Conway just then.

"Back fire! Back fire!" he shouted, and struck a match. It went
out, but he quickly struck another, shielded it with one hand and
touched the tiny flame to the grass. A flame equally tiny
answered, but in an instant it leaped into the size and strength
of a giant. The blaze rose higher than Dick's head, ran swiftly
to right and left, and then roared away to the south, eating up
everything in its path.

"Well done," said a voice at Dick's elbow. "It is the only thing
that could save the train."

It was Bright Sun who spoke, and he had come so silently that
Dick did not see him until then.

Conway understood now, but without a word of approval he turned
away and began to give orders, mixed with much swearing. He had
a rough sort of efficiency, and spurred by his tongue and their
own dreadful necessity, the men worked fast. The horses and
mules, except three or four which had broken loose and were lost,
were hitched to the wagons in half the usual time. There were no
sluggards now.

Dick helped, and Albert, too, but to both it seemed that the work
would never be done. The back fire was already a half mile away,
gathering volume and speed as it went, but the other was coming
on at an equal pace. Deer and antelope were darting past them,
and the horses and mules were rearing in terror.

"Into the burned ground," shouted Conway, "an' keep the wagons
close together!"

No need to urge the animals. They galloped southward over earth
which was still hot and smoking, but they knew that something was
behind them, far more terrible than sparks and smoke.

Dick made Albert jump into their own wagon, while he ran beside
it.