ts stride. Therefore the rangers had themselves ignited the small
fire. This would eat away the fuel, and automatically widen the path.
Between the main fire and the back fire were still several hundred yards
of good, unburned country. To Bob's expression of surprise Amy added to
the two principles of fire-fighting he had learned from Pollock.

"It doesn't do to try to stop a fire anywhere and everywhere," said she.
"A good man knows his country, and he takes advantage of it. This fire
line probably runs along the line of natural defence."

They followed it down the mountain for a long distance through the
eddying smoke. The flames to their right shot up and died and crept. The
shadows to their left--their own among the number--leaped and fell.
After a while, down through the mists, they made out a small figure,
very busy at something. When they approached, they found this to be
Charley Morton. The fire had leaped the cleared path and was greedily
eating in all directions through the short, pitchy growth of tarweed. It
was as yet only a tiny leak, but once let it get started, the whole
forest beyond the fire line would be ablaze. The ranger had started to
cut around this a half-circle connected at both ends with the main fire
line. With short, quick jabs of his hoe, he was tearing away at the
tough tarweed.

"Hullo!" said he without looking up. "You'll find camp on the bald ridge
north the fire line. There's a little feed there."

Having completed his defence, he straightened his back to look at them.
His face was grimed a dingy black through which rivulets of sweat had
made streaks.

"Had it pretty hot all afternoon," he proffered. "Got the fire line
done, though. How're those canteens--full? I'll trade you my empty one."
He took a long draught. "That tastes good. Went dry about three o'clock,
and haven't had a drop since."

They left him there, leaning on the handle of his hoe. Jack Pollock
seemed to know where the place described as the camp-site was located,
for after various detours and false starts, he led them over the brow of
a knoll to a tiny flat among the pine needles where they were greeted by
whinnies from unseen animals. It was here very dark. Jack scraped
together and lit some of the pine needles. By the flickering light they
saw the four saddles dumped down in a heap.

"There's a side hill over yander with a few bunches of grass and some of
these blue lupins," said Jack. "It ain't much in the way