92 THE LOG OF A TIMBER CEUISEE 



water, offered time and again to relieve the men 

 along the line. Horace gave out finally and took 

 advantage of such a suggestion to swap jobs with 

 Ewing. Some time toward midnight Moak changed 

 places with Brown. But the rest of us, filled with 

 the enthusiasm of the game, refused to quit. 



Morning at last brought an end to the long grind. 

 As the sun rose, bloody through the blackened air, 

 a far off yell of encouragement came gratefully to 

 our ears, with its cheering message of reinforce- 

 ments on the way. A little later a galloping line of 

 fire guards and cowpunchers swung up the trail and 

 dismounted. They had ridden all night, but after a 

 cup of hot coffee, which Bert prepared, joined ener- 

 getically in the fight. 



The fire did not now long resist the combined ef- 

 forts of both parties. In a few hours it was sur- 

 rounded and so far under control that those of us 

 who most needed sleep could rest. 



And we were ready to rest. From our sensations 

 at this time we did not see how it was humanly pos- 

 sible to keep the pace we had set much longer, but 

 instances are on record, on this same Gila National 

 forest, of men fighting fire continuously without 

 sleep or rest for thirty, forty-eight, and, in one in- 

 stance, for sixty-three solid hours. 



When it was all over we were thankful for the 

 experience, but we desired no more. Here was the 

 one thing we had found that was harder work, while 

 it lasted, than reconnaissance. 



