SEED PASSING OF A PRAIRIE FIRE 367 



to fade with the daylight, and I turned in and slept 

 soundly until there came a shrill whistle from my 

 brother and the announcement that it was a quarter 

 to nine and the kettle boiling. 



Breakfast was laid in the veranda Sunday break- 

 fast : tea and toast and Crosse and Blackwell's marma- 

 lade, to be taken at the hour one pleases, which is 

 a contrast to the working-day six-o'clock farm-hour 

 breakfast consisting of porridge and fried bacon and 

 potatoes, that can only be thoroughly appreciated 

 by the man or woman who prepares both. I sat 

 down in the sun's warmth and gazed on the sunlit 

 landscape with a feeling of intense pleasure at being 

 back once more to breathe the clear exhilarating 

 air of the prairie. Suddenly the dweller in the air 

 was at my elbow. Without any conscious motive 

 I forsook my teacup and walked around to the north 

 side of the veranda, and from there more sharply 

 out beyond the garden-fence to the place where the 

 side-trail lies in view. From the distance of a mile 

 I saw a wave of flame rolling in towards us as the 

 incoming tide rolls in on the seashore. On the 

 east side of the trail a dense cloud of smoke, and 

 on the west a gleam of scarlet announced the 

 approach of other links in a literal chain of fire, 

 and I knew there was but one way out of a clean 

 sweep " on the prairie fight fire with fire." 



I went back to my brother. " The fire is just 

 on us," I said. " We are all right south and west, 

 as the summer-fallow runs a guard, but unless we 

 can burn off the overgrown guard that runs from 

 the east to the west corner of the fallow we are 

 straight in a line with the fire and " 



But he was already scanning the outlook, " I 



