The Ragged Month 73 



land for pastures, and stock of every sort ran 

 out. Nimble Will always grew quicker and 

 stronger and sweeter upon burnt land — so did 

 the grasses of the little open meadows scat- 

 tered through the woods. Times had changed. 

 Then land and timber were both plenty 

 enough to be had anywhere almost without 

 asking. Now when both had settled yet con- 

 stantly growing values, it was well worth 

 while to look out for them. 



So Joe, Dan, and half a dozen more, ran 

 about with lighted sedge torches, firing the 

 tangle a yard in front of the eating flame, until 

 the sun went down. The burned over strip 

 was some thirty yards across. Major Baker 

 waved his hand. Instantly there was a race 

 toward the other edge, not across the brushy 

 space, but down the furrows, or the fallows. 

 Slow Pete won the race, with Dan a close 

 second, still Joe had the luck to set the first 

 fire. The black fellows tried to light their 

 torches from matches, which the wind blew 

 out as soon as they were struck. Joe shel- 

 tered his very first match with his hat, until 

 he could drop it upon a little pile of leaves; 

 then the trick was done — there was fire and 

 to spare for everybody. 



Swiftly, lightly, the firemen ran up and 

 down the line bent almost double so as 

 to trail the flaming torches close along 



