A TOWN BURNT UP. 327 



ped down, and those that had been blown down, lay 

 where they fell, with all that was combustible around 

 them, in a fit condition for burning. A fire in the 

 woods here, under any circumstances, is a terrific 

 thing, but when such additional incentives to its fury 

 as were scattered around this little town exist, it is 

 irresistible. From some cause a fire broke out some 

 half a mile to the south-west of the village. The wind 

 was strong, and the flames rushed forward with the 

 speed of a race horse and the roar of a tornado. Its 

 career was one of resistless fury. Flashing and swirl- 

 ing, leaping upward and onward, the dense columns 

 of smoke and flame curling and wreathing towards 

 the sky, and borne forward by the winds, soon 

 reached the devoted little town. The power of man 

 was as a reed in its course, and every vestige of the 

 village was swept away. Houses, barns, shops, mills, 

 everything that would burn, was consumed, and 

 where, when the sun rose, was a busy hamlet, when 

 it set, was only smoking desolation. Not a vestige 

 of a human habitation not a structure reared by the 

 hands of man w as left. The little town in the woods 

 was wiped out, and smouldering ruins, charred 

 chunks, and heaps of ashes, alone marked the spot 



