FIRE 89 
‘¢Glad to see you,’’ he grinned through this grimy: 
mask, ‘‘she’s going strong, ain’t she? About all we 
can do now, I reckon, is get on top and cut a line. 
Then fight her there, just as she starts to dip down 
hill, There’ll be a bunch out in the morning, but 
the real work must be done to-night. If we can hold 
her at the line till reinforcements come we’ll win 
out.’’ 
So there began at once a three cornered race. 
With shovel and axe and rake we worked heroically 
to clear a fireline at the edge of the south slope of 
Hillsboro Peak, in accordance with Reid’s directions, 
before the line of fire should reach the position we 
had chosen to fortify. And darkness, coming on 
apace, promised for a time to beat us both. — 
But we won. When the light in the western sky 
faded and the jack-in-the-box stars popped out, one 
by one; and when finally through the gathering dusk 
we saw the ruddy flare of fire rise threateningly 
above the line of the ridge, we were ready. 
A line fifteen feet wide and four hundred yards 
long, cleared to the dirt, lay along the top. Behind 
it, resting for a brief breath-winning spell, were the 
fire fighters. Rakes and pine branches thickly pad- 
ded with needles, shovels and wetted gunny sacks 
(for the first load of water had arrived) lay ready to 
hand. There needed nothing now to start the duel 
but that the crawling foe, approaching nearer mo- 
ment by moment, should reach us and assault our 
position. It was the calm before the storm, the 
