oped and tortured us. Involuntarily, as we drew
nearer and nearer the angry fire-tide, my hand was across my mouth to
shut out the hot burning air; but a man must breathe, and the next
intake of breath blistered one's chest like live coals on raw flesh.
Little wonder our poor beasts uttered that pitiful scream against pain,
which is the horse's one protest of suffering. Presently, they became
wildly unmanageable; and when we dismounted to blindfold them and muffle
their heads in our jackets, they crowded and trembled against us in a
frenzy of terror. Then we tied strips torn from our clothing across our
own mouths and, remounting, beat the frantic creatures forward. I have
often marveled at the courage of those four Indians. For me, there was
incentive enough to dare everything to the death. For them, what motive
but to vindicate their bravery? But even bravery in its perfection has
the limitation of physical endurance; and we had now reached the limit
of what we could endure and live. The fire wave was crackling and
licking up everything within a few paces of us. Live brands fell thick
as a rain of fire. The flames were not crawling in the insidious line of
the prairie fire when there is no wind, but the very heat of the air
seemed to generate a hurricane and the red wave came forward in leaps
and bounds, reaching out cloven fangs that hissed at us like an army of
serpents. I remember wondering in a half delirium whether parts of
Dante's hell could be worse. With the instinctive cry to heaven for
help, of human-kind world over, I looked above; but there was only a
great pitchy dome with glowing clouds rolling and heaving and tossing
and blackening the firmament. Then I knew we must choose one of three
things, a long detour round the fire-wave, one dash through the
flames--or death. I shouted to the men to save themselves; but Burnt
Earth and Ringing Thunder had already gone off to skirt the near end of
the fire-line. Little Fellow and La Robe Noire stuck staunchly by me. We
all three paused, facing death; and the Indians' horses trembled close
to my broncho till I felt the burn of hot stirrups against both ankles.
Our buckskin was smoking in a dozen places. There was a lull of the
wind, and I said to myself, "The calm before the end; the next hurricane
burst and those red demon claws will have us." But in the momentary
lull, a place appeared through the trough of smoke billows, where the
grass was green and the fire-barr