The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1890-03-29

winding footpath led most of them to
their homes. She saw that every one
was safe in the care of parents, then
cofnposedly, but quickly, made her way
to the Cleaver homestead, where she
boarded.
She found every door open and not a
soul in sight. Looking out from the
back porch, she could see on the right
the big barn full of hay, the sheds,
wagons and farm machinery clustered
near; on the left, the schoolhouse, still
safe; before her and across the plowed
fields, an arm of the woods, through
which the clear space of the creek could
be discerned, and little more to the
right, and farther away, the sweeping
clouds of smoke pouring up and onward
with hurrying density.
Voices in quick, broken shouts fell on
her ear, and grasping her straw hat she
found mother, sister. daughter and
younger children eagerly flinging down
the fences, scattering the rails widely
over the bare ground.
"We must get the fences down before
the fire comes" cried Mary Cleaver, the
eldest daughter, as she saw Julia APP
preaching. 'Pm glad you've come, and
it's lucky your dress is wooden. The fire
is raging so that the little space of
burned ground around the fences won't
stay it at all, an if it once gets to run
min through them, barn, horses. hay,
home and everything must 60"
"Where are the men?'
"Over at Johnson's settlement, fight
ing like beavers and dead tired out. Three
houses and barns have gone up Already"
The hearty, rosy checked girl, in short
worsted skirts and mans coat and hat,
tossed huge knotty rail over her shoul-
der and looked at the little schoolma'am
with a superior air. "Are you equal to
that sort of thing for an hour or two?"
Julia fancled she could hear the roar Of
the on coming flames, and already the
air was sitting; but, for answer, grasped
rail in her 1.-THE young arms, and flung
1t out as lightly as the stouter girl had
done.
How she worked! Her sleeves were
bOOA Will lAOlh tlC iOuuu, w HUG 3,
and they were quickly rasped and
scratched until tiny red streams ran down
to her wrists. In her excitement she
flung rails about that she could not have
lifted in ordinary moments; even the
Cleaver girl looked at her admiringly, and
suggested that "she take it easier" But
there was little time for rest. A red
fame leaped over the tops of the trees,
here and there, and burning cinders were
falling around them; one more line of
fence must be, at least, partly scattered
before there was safety. 1t was farther
out and directly in the way of the thick.
est rain of flying cinders. But the two
girls, one SO slender, willowy and quick,
the other strong and steady, attacked it
with undaunted spirit, and just as the
hot breath of the devouring monster
stirred the hair ON their brows the fire
bait was rendered harmless.
Julia was painting with exhaustion and
wondering if she was going to faint,
when Mrs. Cleaver came up with the
frantic cry of:
"Where is little jeanette? Where in
the world is the girl? Have you seen
herr"
jake, the slow, old fashioned 12-year-
old, made his mother understand after
while that Jeanne had gone in the di-
rection of the fire cause she wanted
to see it burn"
'That DARN child! She amt afraid of
nothin'. She'll be burned alive!' And
the woman tried to run and find her
youngest born; but WEAKNESS and emo
ton overcame her eagerness and she fell
helpless to the ground.
Mary fastened to her mothers side,
and no other woman or child dared ven
ture nearer toward the surging storm of
flames and smoke that was bearing down
upon them.
Only Julia. She looked forward in
dread but for one moment, then calling
up every reserve of strength and cour-
age, she paused like bird ready for
flight, thinking which was the best
course, and with the grace and speed of
deer sprang through the bushes, call
ing Jeanette's name. Toward the right
the fire was not so near, and in that di-
rection Julia flew, peering under every
L,-.'i ;,!ld behind every log for the miss
Ing girl. Ga and on, through the dense
smoke, with the agonizing fear in her
heart that the child had already met her
terrible fate lending her false strength,
on and on she passed, as long as posi-
BILE pathway opened before her. But
suddenly she came upon wall of fire; to
turn aside was but to face another, until
she realized with appalling force that she
was hemmed in on every side.
1t seemed to her the fire fiend had sud-
denly encircled her, by some skillful
trick, and was mocking her despair.
The sun refused to shine and the sky
was blotted out in darkness; this was not
the world, the bright, beautiful earth she
had loved so well, but some chaotic space
out in the universe, where the elements
were fighting for mastery. The quiet
morning when she and Harry had stood
together making believe they did not love
each other and were not happy must
have been far away in some other life.
She would never get back to that life
again, never see Harry, never receive
his forgiveness. never let him know how
dear he was. How sweet that far away
life and love now seemed to her!
One chance remained. AS yet nearly
two acres Of ground, comparatively bar.
rem Of trees, was free from fire. She ran
and seized fallen fagot, lighted the dead
leaves where they were thickest and
dryest, and before square rod had
burned and left the bare sod her kindled
fire met the advancing column; she
threw herself face downward on the
smoldering ground, and awaited the
sweep of the fiery tempest. Not draught
of air was there that was not also heat,
smoke and ashes; and above and around,
the hot sea roared and cracked, as though
it had conspired with all its forces to
crush the life out of one weak little wo-
man.
'.This is death!' was Julia's last
thought, then came Inconsistencies.
It was 0 o'clock, and soft rain was
falling. Over the miles of desolated for
ests still smoldered, in sullen defiance,
spots of fire, but the fury of the elements
had spent itself. Harry Selden stood
before long, low log house, tying the
painting horse that had brought him
there on as fierce a gallop as ever steed
was made to run. He was gazing eagerly
now through open doors and windows
even while engaged with caring for his
horse, but no graceful form, with its
piquant face, met his gaze.--For this he
was both glad and sorry. She had not
come, she had obeyed his wishes, but