FIRING THE WOODS. 325 



seventy or eighty feet, sparks sail slowly away in the air, 

 dropping into the grass here and there in places not yet 

 burned over — often at a distance of a hundred or more 

 feet from the point of departure. 



Wherever a fire has swept, the trees that stand within 

 two hundred feet of grass uuburned should be closely ex- 

 amined, and, if the slightest signs of internal or external 

 fire can be detected, let them be cut down on the -instant, 

 before they have the chance to do mischief, and mischief 

 too that is of the worst sort, because unsuspected until 

 under full headway. 



This has occurred in the writer's personal experience 

 several times, and great damage done, just as it often hap- 

 pens that when one is feeling most secure the enemy ap- 

 pears in force upon the threshold * ' seeking what it may 

 devour." 



It is no light task to ''fight fire," as we know to our 

 cost. Many a time, during our Florida life, lack of help 

 has compelled us to face the blinding smoke and scorching 

 flames, armed with rake, hoe, and pine brush, with a threat- 

 ened fence behind us at our very elbow, and the fierce 

 flames leaping ten feet high on the other side of a narrow 

 plowed strip, and often reaching out and almost spanning 

 the barrier. 



No, it is no light thing to fight fire, rushing here and 

 there to check its advance, fighting with breathless haste, 

 aching arms, weeping eyes, and choking lungs, to keep the 

 warring foe at bay. 



Many a time have the weak women of a household, dur- 

 ing the absence of the stronger ones, been forced to rush 

 out, drag down the heavy rails, so as to break the connec- 

 tion, and fight and struggle for hours to save their hard 

 won property from destruction, often failing partially, if 

 not entirely, in spite of the toil that not unfrequently lays 

 them upon a sick-bed. 



