SEED— PASSING OF A PRAIRIE FIRE 371 



An angrier note in the roar of the fire gave 

 warning that the two blazes were approaching each 

 other. I turned to see the main fire dash wrath- 

 fully down the hill to devour the lesser flame we had 

 sent out to meet it. For a second the flames leaped 

 high as they closed in a throttling embrace only to 

 find mutual extinction. But the eastern arm came 

 on as I had surmised it would, not with the mad 

 menace of the flame that had found death in 

 ^ another, but with quiet indomitable purpose and 

 wide-eyed for prey. 



There was nothing more to be done. We stood 

 by the inadequately guarded corner, within twenty 

 yards of the oat-straw rick, each armed with a sack 

 and ready to do battle with the flame-wave if it 

 challenged, but each of us knew in our heart that 

 if the flame continued to get within fighting dis- 

 tance the whole place was doomed. What could 

 be done at the last moment had been done, the rest 

 was with the Power that works behind phenomena. 



The increasing roar announced the surviving 

 flame to be gaining strength and power. With 

 eyes set straight for the fatal corner from which it 

 must approach, I suddenly remembered that I was 

 not insured. I had fully intended taking out a 

 policy before leaving Canada the preceding winter, 

 but the frozen harvest had indefinitely postponed 

 my intentions, luxurious and utilitarian. That was 

 the one absolutely bitter moment of my life on the 

 Canadian prairie, for then, and I think only then, 

 through all the ups and downs of my farming 

 experiment, did I doubt that my comrade " the 

 Power that works behind phenomena " was playing 

 the game. The well-worn path through the pasture 



