150 STORIES OF BIRD LIFE 



air for the nostrils, and clung burning to the eyes and eye- 

 lids. More overcast became the sky, thicker through the 

 trees drifted the smarting haze, while deep and low came 

 an ominous rumbling, borne before the breast of the west 

 wind. 



The partridges lay still and watched and listened. The 

 darkness grew, the rumbling increased to a roar, now 

 mingled with a medley of snapping, crackling, crashing 

 sounds. The birds arose and shook the dust from their 

 sides. The forest was on fire. Along the west and girting 

 about to the north and south came roaring and rushing 

 the burning flames, the fierce devouring wolves of the fire 

 king. Like an immense ])ack in some mad race they came 

 rushing on in great leaps, eating down the high hot grass, 

 tossing up their fiery tongues and snapping and snarling 

 in their hideous work. Wrapping about the small trees 

 they quickly stripped them of their foliage and climbed 

 high up the bark of the tall pines, scorching and killing 

 the slender green leaves one hundred feet from the ground. 

 The forest had not been burned over for four years and 

 the accumulated carpet of pine needles, with all their rosin, 

 together with the tall dead grass, was a great feast for the 

 fire. 



Dense volumes of smoke arose which at times drifted 

 low and shut from view the oncoming flames. A flicker 



