SEED— PASSING OF A PRAIRIE FIRE 363 



distance. There was a faint smell of fire in the 

 air. Clouds of smoke rose here and there from 

 sixteen to twenty-four miles distant on the far side 

 of the Qu'Appelle lakes, and, turning to the north- 

 west, I perceived a further cloud which seemed 

 ominously near. It was a spur to my procrastinating 

 sense of caution, and I called to my brother, who was 

 smoking the after-dinner pipe of peace with Roddy 

 McMahon, and who vowed that on such a day it 

 was killing work to remove a granary with four horses. 



" Get two stout poplar poles to raise it," I 

 suggested. " Once out of the rut, it is quite a 

 short pull to the pasture trail, and then, bar stones, 

 it will run as easily as a bathing-machine." 



Thirty-five minutes later the neat little granary 

 was grouped with its near relatives among the some- 

 what unconventional farm buildings, and my con- 

 science was eased of a load. 



The long absence from active outdoor and 

 domestic work had unsettled my attitude towards 

 " the daily round and common task." There was 

 bread to bake, butter to make, flower seeds to sow, 

 stables to clean, it would have been wise to pickle 

 Monday's seed and rest through Sunday ; in short, 

 there was a great deal more work than one could 

 possibly get through under a brilliant sun set in a 

 blue heaven, so I gave ear to the voice of the 

 charmer and drove away towards tea and tennis at 

 Fort Qu'Appelle. 



Two miles up the trail Nancy cocked her ears 

 and laid hold of the bit. The smell of fire which 

 had hovered in the air for three days was suddenly 

 suffocatingly near. We topped the little hill that 

 marks half-way ; hot air fanned my left cheek, and 



