148 



WHEAT AND WOMAN 



my two men drove off in a wagon to the straw pile 

 and brought back load after load of dry straw to the 

 skirt of the field, where they laid it in the stubble 

 to give a good send-off to the fire. The heat of the 

 sun had caused every breath of moisture to evaporate 

 from the stubble, and the wind being in a favour- 

 able quarter it was decided to fire after noon of the 

 second day. The straw piles went first and raised 

 a splendid blaze, and all would have gone well had 

 Roddy McMahon's conscience been just a little 

 nearer the degree prescribed by the law on the north 

 side of the fence. But at this point the fire leapt 

 the guard and got into the bluff which adjoins the 

 stack-yard and the stable. I had driven down to 

 the Fort and didn't share the top notes of excite- 

 ment, but a black-faced but triumphant hired man 

 supported by all my neighbours greeted me as I 

 came in at the gate with a tale of marvellous escape 

 from a clean wipe-out with fire ! Roddy McMahon, 

 who, if he ploughed furrows before he could read, 

 probably made prairie fires before he could walk, 

 remembers this above all other fires, and always 

 insists that Heriot Hylton-Cave shall share the 

 remembrance. 



" Do you mind, Heriot, that day when the fire 

 got away on us and come into the bluff ? I never 

 see anyone so scared in my life. Off you rode for 

 Roland Dennison, and by the time you come back I 

 got it all beat out." 



The next phase in the preparation was the cleaning 

 and pickling of the seed-grain. I was arranging to 

 buy a fanning mill, but Roddy McMahon suggested 

 that his uncle and my neighbour John McLeay 

 "might so well loan his." He drove off for the 



