The World. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1891-1896, 1892-01-14

cry Of horror burst from her lips.
The porch was stewn with charred
leaves, and back Of the house the
smoke was sucking up the valley in
great clouds, until it mingled with
the great body Of fire in the north,
which was steadily advancing. Judg-
ing from very hasty survey in that
direction, she came to the conclusion
that the fire had burst out in another
canyon, creating strong wind as it
burned. But it was to the south that
she looked with greatest apprehension.
"The winds full on us" she cried,
wringing her hands in distress. ''Dear
me, If l warn't such dreadful novel
reader I! Where can John be 7 There
amt minute to be lost. I know
what I'll do first, " she added, hurrying
to the barn close by.
She kneeled down among the bales
of hay and loose straw, causing dire
CONSERVATION to an old hen with her
brood She prayed aloud. with up
turn@ eyes and clasped hands. Then
she dNse and hurried to the house.
FINN she walked her husband, ex-
plaiARg to him the situation, and
wheeled him into the front doorway.
Then, after tying up the great family
Bible and sundry other treasures in a
patchwork quilt made by her grand
mother, she placed them near the
door, where they could be snatched
when her son came, for she had entire
faith that they would be rescued.
Then she looked around to see what
to do first. 1t was useless to think of
fight, for she could never push her
husbands chair along the uneven
road, and besides they might be turn
ed back at any moment by the fire.
So turning up her rusty black skirt
she first began firing the underbush
Immediately about the house, putting
it out with evergreen boughs as soon
as it had burned the space Of few
feet This she repeated again and
again, fearing to burn too much, lest
it should get beyond her control.
Thus she toiled late into the night,
clearing pitiable small place, in view
of the threatening furnace of fire,
which every moment grew more terri
BILE. The air became almost sitting,
the light of the full moon faded into
beside the glare of the
flames, which were licking into the
heavens with a mighty roar.
Patiently the little woman brought
pail after pail of water from the creek
back to the house. With the aid of
chairs and boxes, piled one on anoth
er, she was able to soak the roof thor
oughly, thus saving the house from
burning much longer than she could
otherwise have done. With her puny
strength she succeeded in flooding the
yard, and when the sparks few upon
the barn she dashed water upon them,
but her strength was nearly gone.
Suddenly the flames caught the,
nearest redwood on the mountain. and
a shower of sparks fell upon the house
from its writhing, twisting branches,
that cracked and Kissed and roared.
A few minutes more and it would be
too late.
Mrs. McGregor threw the skirt of her
gown over her head and ran for safety
to the porch, where great number of
cotton-tail rabbits had sought protee-
ton. Tame with fright, they gathered
about her skirts, as with singed hair
hanging in little wisp she threw her.
self at her husbands side and prayed.
Hardly half a mile to the north, on
the Millbrae road, an express wagon
drawn by two running horses was
rapidly approaching the seething lake
of fire. The driver, a young man,
leaned toward in his excitement, and
urged the horses on with his long whip
as they neared t&e valley road, which
was here and there crossed by tongues
Of fame, reaching out in all directions
as if searching for food.
Another minute and they were OPP
posite the house. John McGregor
pulled his cap down over his eyes, and
laid the curling whip numerically
about the TANKS of the trembling
horses. A torturing second of anxiety
and smothering heat passed over the
young man-then the noses of the ami
mails touched the side of the house, al
ready burning4in several places.
The inert black heap by his fathers
chair sprung to life.