their fury. One of the largest
tanks in the valley had been struck, and the destruction threatened
every living thing that could not flee to the mountains from the river
of fire that poured out over the shattered iron sides of the tank.

CHAPTER XII.

THE CONFLAGRATION.

The grandeur of the scene upon which George and Ralph looked was
indescribable, the slightest detail of which once seen could never be
forgotten.

The lurid flames, surmounted by the thick, black smoke, towered upward
as if to meet the lightning's flash, and then, as the wind and rain beat
it down for a moment, the heavy clouds of smoke rolled down the valley
like some funereal pall sent in advance of the death and destruction
that was to come.

"What can we do?" cried Ralph, when the awe which the scene had brought
with it gave place to fear for others, and a desire to avert suffering
and destruction.

"We can do nothing," replied George, in a low tone. "We do not even know
how to fight the burning oil, and are powerless to do anything, at least
until others shall come to direct the work."

"But we can surely give the alarm and arouse the people," cried Ralph,
as he attempted to rush out of the shed, but was prevented by George.

"Do you think there is any one within two miles of here who cannot see
that blaze?" asked George, as he pointed to the mountain of flame. "We
can accomplish nothing, therefore we will remain here quiet until those
who are familiar with such scenes shall come."

Ralph recognized the common sense of George's suggestion even when it
seemed impossible that he could remain idle, and while the two stood
outside the shed, regardless of the furious rain, waiting for those to
come who could direct their labor, they witnessed another scene, fitting
companion to the one already pictured.

The lightning flashes were as vivid and rapid as ever, save that the
glare may have seemed a trifle less blinding because of the flames, and
there was no sign that the storm was decreasing. Suddenly, even while it
appeared as if a small whirlwind enveloped a derrick that stood on the
hill on the opposite side of the valley, another storm of fire descended
from the sky, wrapping the heavy timbers in flames without shattering
them, and flinging angry tongues of fire on nearly every timber in the
towering pile.

For a few moments this lofty beacon burned as if trying to outshine the
larger conflagration, and then, as the heat grew mor