JACK'S CLOSE CALL 



the creek and started, still half blinded and choked 

 by the flying smoke and ashes, which so obscured 

 my vision that I could see but a short distance 

 ahead. The fire now was all gone except here and 

 there a few buffalo-chips still burning, but the hot 

 smoke-and-ashes-laden air was stifling. 



I struck a gallop, to hurry through the worst 

 part of the ground, and soon began to get out into 

 a little clearer atmosphere, and was greatly re- 

 joiced to see Jack coming toward me though yet 

 some distance off. I noticed that though he was 

 coming with the wind he walked unsteadily, as 

 though nearly exhausted, stopping now and then 

 to sit down and rest. The air was yet so murky 

 that he had not noticed me until I came near him, 

 when, staggering to his feet from an old buffalo 

 skull he had been sitting on, he waved his hand 

 weakly and tried to whoop, but the effort set him 

 to coughing as he halted and leaned on his rifle. 

 As I reached him I noticed that his wolfskin over- 

 coat that he wore at starting from camp was miss- 

 ing and his other clothes were much soiled, ap- 

 parently having been wet in places, coated with 

 adhering soot and ashes, and now frozen by the 

 cold wind. 



"Why, Jack!" I exclaimed as I reined up and 

 dismounted, "how in the world did you live 

 through the fire? And how did you get your 

 clothes wet?" 



"In the buffalo," he answered as he again began 

 coughing. 



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