SEED— PASSING OF A PRAIRIE FIRE 365 



the valley of lakes. Fort Qu'Appelle was alive with 

 anxiety. It appeared that for twenty-four hours 

 the fire had played in and out of both lines of poplar 

 and maple-clad hills which guard the valley on the 

 southern side, and ill-tidings of distress and disaster 

 fallen and feared were on every tongue. As I stood 

 at the door of the post ofHce a man was brought into 

 the town in appalling agony. He had been badly 

 burned in endeavouring at the last moment to 

 plough up a guard. The fire, it seemed, had cut 

 round and caught him out on the last furrow. 

 Three of the horses had got off with a singeing, but 

 one had been moved to the veterinary hospital at 

 South Qu'Appelle severely injured ; and the man 

 had been brought down to the Fort — to die, said 

 some ; others that he would never open his eyes 

 again. Happily none of these sad prophecies was 

 fulfilled ; patient and painstaking medical treat- 

 ment combined with careful nursing pulled him 

 through, and he was about again before seeding was 

 finished, but the faithful horse had earned the long 

 rest and went under. 



Homeward-bound I climbed the long steep hill 

 with a heavy heart. On the brow a democrat 

 passed me in which were men of the North- West 

 Mounted Police and men of Fort Qu'Appelle on 

 their way to fight the flames from God's acre on the 

 hill. 



The hill behind us, we raced along, and this time 

 on either side of the trail lay the black waste, but 

 in less than a quarter of a mile we arrived at the 

 scarlet line on the near side. It was eating its way 

 very slowly due east and not perceptibly gaining 

 ground south. For a moment I had both intuition 



