286 FUR FACTS 



clothes made him hideous to behold. Suddenly, his foot caught in 

 some brush and he went reeling forward, striking his head against 

 the trunk of a tree as he went down. In a wild frenzy of terror and 

 despair I shook him and called to him, but he made no attempt to 

 answer me. Not a moment was to be lost. Discarding the last of 

 the food supply, I managed to raise his limp form and place it on 

 my shoulder. The heat from the flames and the asphyxiating smoke 

 maddened me. With a supreme effort I lurched forward, dashing 

 madly through the entangling underbrush. Devoid of feeling or 

 sense of pain, I tore through thickets and briery brambles, not 

 knowing whether the body I was carrying was that of a live man or 

 a corpse. 



Gradually the distance between the trees began to widen; I could 

 walk without stumbling and ahead I could see what appeared to be 

 a broad expanse of water. 



I also became aware of a decided clearing in the atmosphere; there 

 was less smoke in the air and I no longer felt the heat beating upon 

 my back. Then as I drew out into the clearing I noticed that the 

 wind had shifted to the west and was blowing the flames to the east. 



I now clearly saw that the body of water ahead of me was a large 

 lake. Never had water been more of a Godsend than at this time. 

 I was parching with thirst; my tongue clove to the roof of my mouth. 



Then, as if the curtains of night had drawn around me, all grew 

 dark, my head reeled and I sank to the ground, carrying the body 

 with me. 



How long I had lain there I do not know, but I was awakened by 

 the sound of voices and the splashing of oars in the lake. Raising 

 my head I saw that Bud was still lying in a stupor, but the labored 

 heaving of his chest told me that he was still alive. 



Two men were pulling toward us in a boat, and as I looked up I 

 noticed that the man in front bore a strangely familiar appearance. 

 Fortunately, it proved to be my old trapping partner, Tom Hicks. 

 He and his pard had been driven from their haunts by the forest fire 

 and had lost one of their boats, a valuable lot of furs and most of 

 their food supply, in the scrimmage. 



After administering cold water packs to Bud's head for about ten 

 minutes, we were rewarded by seeing him sit up and talk; but he was 

 still very pale and weak. 



Having no provisions and being entirely devoid of trapping 

 equipment, I was in favor of returning home. Bud was more than 

 ready to go, so after helping devour the remaining portion of Tom's 



