Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1883-11-01
Seltfted Story.
THE PRAIRIE FIRE.

'Yes, Indy; what's wanted? :?
Ma wants to know how long it'll
be fore you're ready
oh, tell her IN be at the door by
the time she gets her things on. Be
sure you have the butter and eggs all
ready to put into the wagon. We're
maxim too late start to town.
Butter and eggs, indeed ! AS is
Lindy needed a reminder other than
the new dress for which they were to
be exchanged.
Elmer and l can 90 to town next
time, can't we, ma . she asked, enter
ing the house.
Yes, Lindy; | hope so, was the re-
ply. But don't bother me now
your pa is coming already, and |
haven't my shawl on vet. Yes. VIII.
bur. Pm here. Just rut this butter
in, Lindy, I'll carry the eggs in my
lap Now, Indy, don't let Elmer
play with the fire or run away.
And in a moment more the heavy
lumber wagon ratified away from the
door, and the children stood gazing
after it for awhile, in half forlorn
manner. Then Lindy went in to do
her work, Elmer resumed his play,
and soon everything was moving
along cheerfully as ever.
After dinner, Elmer went to sleep,
and Lindy, feeling rather Lonely
again, went out. t.of-doors for change.
1t was a warm autumnal day, almost
the perfect counterpart of dozen or
more which had preceded it. The
sun shone brightly and the hot winds
that swept through the tall grass
made that and all else it touched so
dry that the prairie seemed like u
vast Undertook. Though her parents
had but lately moved to this place,
Lindv was accustomed to the prai-
RES. She had been born on them.
and her eyes were familiar with n"th-
ing else; yet, as she stood to day
with that brown, unbroken eXpanse
rolling away before her until il
reached the pale blush gray Of the
sky, the indescribab'e feeling of awe
and terrible solitude which such n
scene often inspires in one not tamll-
lar with it stole gradually over her.
But Lindy was far too practical to
remain long under such an influence
The chickens were ''pcepng loudly,
and she remembered that they We're
still without their dinner.
AS she passed around the corner of
the house with a dish of corn in her
hands, the wind almost lifted her
from the ground. 1t was certainly
blowing with greater violence than
during the morning.
Great tumble weeds went flying by,
turning over and over with light
ming, like rapidity; then, pansing for
an instant's rest, were caught by an.
other gust and carried along, mile
after mile, till some fence or other
obstacle was reached, where they
could pile up in great drifts, and
wait till a brisk wind from an oppo.
site direction should send them roll
ing and tumbling all the way back,
But Lindy did not notice the tumble
weeds. The dish of corn had fallen
from her hand, and she stood looking
ahead with wide.open, fright
ened eyes.
What was the sight that so fright
ened her:
Only line of fire below the hori-
zon. Only q line of fire, with forked
flames darting high into the air, Il
cloud of smoke drifting away from
them, A beautiful relief, this bright,
spectacle from the brown
monotony of the prairie,
But the scene was without beauty
for Lindy. Her heart had given one
great bound when she first saw the
red line, and then it seemed to cease
beating. She had seen many prairie
fires: had seen her father and other
men fight them, and she knew at once
the danger her home was in. What
could she, little girl, do to save it,
and perhaps herself and her little
Il.a \, Ill, ,,,1,