d there, we can swim the river," he explained as they
ran. "The fire isn't likely to cross the water."

They reached the trees, and immediately found themselves in a madly
frightened procession. At their feet scurried rabbits, squirrels,
chipmunks. A fox flashed by within a yard of them. Overhead, birds
screamed and called in terror.

On they dashed, and a ghostly yellow light began to envelop them. "The
smoke overhead," said Alex. "It will soon be down here, too."

"I smell it," panted Jack a moment later. Soon they began to feel it in
their eyes.

Jack began to lag. "How much farther, Alex?" he gasped.

"Only a short distance, now. Yes, here we are," announced Alex, as
brighter light appeared ahead of them. A moment after they broke into the
clearing.

Without slackening pace Alex headed for the old semaphore. "From up there
we can see just how we stand," he explained. Almost exhausted, they
reached it, and Alex ran up the ladder. Scrambling onto the little
platform, he turned toward the river, two hundred yards distant. A cry
broke from him.

"We are cut off! The fire has crossed the river!"

Jack hastily clambered up beside him, and above the tree-tops beyond the
river he beheld a gray-white cloud.

The boys gazed at one another with paling faces. "What shall we do?"
asked Jack.

Alex shook his head. "We might swim the river, and try a dash for it. It
is two miles out of the woods, but there might be a chance."

"We couldn't do it. We're too nearly exhausted.

"How about staying right in the river, by the bank?" Jack suggested.
"I've heard of people doing that."

"It is too deep here, and it's awfully cold. We would chill and cramp in
no time.

"No; I tell you," went on Alex suddenly. "We'll try one of the old tile
ovens on the other side of the yard. Perhaps we can box ourselves up in
one of them."

There was no time to lose, for the clearing was now blue with smoke, and
climbing hastily to the ground, the boys were again off on the run. They
reached the group of round-topped ovens.

A glance showed that their hope was futile. All about the furnaces were
thickets of dead weeds, and a short distance away, and directly to
windward, was a huge pile of light brushwood.

Promptly Alex turned back. "We would be smothered or roasted in five
minutes," he declared. "No. It is the water, or nothing. Perhaps we can
work it by floating on a log."

As they approached the river, the boys crossed the old y