But moments dragged by, and they did not come. Here there was
no sign of smoke, nor even the faintest hint of the roar of the fire. The
wind blew strongly up the canyon, and I kept turning my ear to it. In spite
of the fact that my friends did not come quickly I had begun to calm my
fears. They would return presently with knowledge of the course of the fire
and the way to avoid it. My thoughts were mostly occupied with sorrow for
beautiful Penetier. What a fiend Buell was! I had heard him say he would
fire the slash, and he had kept his word.
Half an hour passed. I saw a flash of gray down the canyon, and shouted in
joy. But what I thought Dick and Hiram was a herd of deer. They were
running wildly. They clicked on the stones, and scarcely swerved for the
pack-ponies. It took no second glance to see that they were fleeing from
the fire. This brought back all my alarms, and every moment that I waited
thereafter added to them. I watched the trail and under the trees for my
friends, and I scanned the sky for signs of the blue-white clouds of smoke.
But I saw neither.
"Dick told me to wait here; but how long shall I wait?" I muttered.
"Something's happened to him. If only I could see what that fire is doing!"
The camping-place was low down between two slopes, one of which was high
and had a rocky cliff standing bare in the sunlight.
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