brook sizzled down through the burning land. I stopped and,
cupping my hands, scooped up some water and drank thirstily. The first
swallow nearly strangled me, it was saturated by the fumes of the
burning forest. I drank on nevertheless; it was wet and cooling to my
parched throat. I soused my head in the brook and soaked my
handkerchief in case of need.

A faint breeze sprang up. Circling the fire, I moved up the slope,
with the wind at my back. The needle-carpeted forest floor was a
smoldering mass--the squirrels' hidden hoards were afire. Young trees,
just starting from those stored-up nurseries were destroyed by tens of
thousands.

On raced the head fire, setting the dead trees and stumps furiously
aflame, touching the needles of the living trees with swift, feverish
fingers, igniting insidious spot-fires as it went. Its self-generated
draft roared thunderingly. It snatched up countless firebrands and
sent those flaming heralds forth to announce its coming to the
trembling forest beyond. As it topped the canyon walls it seemed to
leap beyond the clouds that hovered overhead and burn asunder the very
heavens.

Of a sudden I was enveloped by one of its serpentine arms. It writhed
everywhere around me, hissing, striking at my face, singing my hair,
scorching my frantic hands that would ward it off. My eyes could not
face that venomous glare. My lungs were choked by its searing breath.
I found a stick and, feeling my way with it, fled, like the beaver, to
the brook for sanctuary. That flaming serpent pursued me. Its breath
grew more acrid, more deadly. I coughed convulsively, strangled,
stumbled, fell: when I regained my feet, I was dazed, confused. But I
retained consciousness enough to know I must keep moving. I must reach
the fire's immemorial enemy and enlist the aid of that watery ally to
escape it. I took leaps over the ground, but blindly, with no such
brilliant eyes as my relentless foe.

The memory of that race for life is still vividly terrifying; blinded,
choking, crashing into trees, falling, struggling to my feet, fighting
on and on and on, for what seemed endless hours. In reality it was--it
could only have been--a few moments. I plunged into the brook and
submerged my burning clothes, my tortured body. I hurried on as fast
as I could, downstream, halting now and then to dive beneath the
grateful waters of the deeper pools, but never stopping, until,
staggering, gasping, sobbing