84 The Wilderness Hunter. 



hoping to find some stretch of broken ground where the 

 grass was sparse, and where we could fight the fire with 

 effect. Our hopes were vain. Before we reached the 

 ridge the fire came over its crest, and ran down in a long 

 tongue between two scoria buttes. Here the grass was 

 quite short and thin, and we did our best to beat out the 

 flames ; but they gradually gained on us, and as they 

 reached the thicker grass lower down the slope, they 

 began to roar and dart forward in a way that bade us pay 

 heed to our own safety. Finally they reached a winding 

 line of brushwood in the bottom of the coulie ; and as 

 this burst into a leaping blaze we saw it was high time 

 to look to the safety of our camp, and ran back to it at 

 top speed. Ferguson, who had been foremost in fighting 

 the fire, was already scorched and blackened. 



We were camped on the wagon trail which leads along 

 the divide almost due south to Sentinel Butte. The line 

 of fire was fanned by a southeasterly breeze, and was 

 therefore advancing diagonally to the divide. If we could 

 drive the wagon southward on the trail in time to get it 

 past the fire before the latter reached the divide, we would 

 be to windward of the flames, and therefore in safety. 

 Accordingly, while the others were hastily harnessing the 

 team, and tossing the bedding and provisions into the 

 wagon, I threw the saddle on my horse, and galloped 

 down the trail, to see if there was yet time to adopt this 

 expedient. I soon found that there was not. Half a 

 mile from camp the trail dipped into a deep coulie, where 

 fair-sized trees and dense undergrowth made a long wind- 

 ing row of brush and timber. The trail led right under 



