The San Francisco call., 1897-11-14

TEN gears ago or tnereaUOutS bHe CouIi-
| try IN the vicinity OF Gualala was very
thinIy populated. 1t was one tangle of
redwood forest and underbrush-iust the
best of places for forest fires in dry au-
tumn. 1t is about just such a fire that l
intend to write.
When l was some three or four years
old my mother took me on visit to my
aunt, who lived about twelve miles from
Gualala, a small town in Mendocino
County. 1t was warm sullry afternoon
in mid-autumn when We arrived at the
end OF our journey.
That evening, when l was put to bed III
the rude little bedroom, was very restless
and climbed upon a chair TO look out OF
the window. 1 Immediately called my
aunt's attention to a strange, red glare in
the west. She almost tainted as she
beheld what did not know was the sign
of a forest fire.
Soon all was excitement. Backdres
were set to the west Of the buildings in
hope shat enough of the brush which
grew down to the garden fence would be
burned to save the homestead, and when
morning came it was thought that all was
safe. Late that afternoon the winds
changed and came roaring from the north,
heavily laden with smoke and heat. All
hope was now lost; there was no chance
for safety here The few family posses
sions were hurriedIy loaded on wagon
and the family prepared to start.
There was much excitement. Men hur-
ried to and fro with shouts and with in
structlons. The atmosphere became hot
ter and sparks were waited through the
air in great glIstenlng showers that eddied
here and there and helped to carry for
ward the work of broadcast ruin.
In the confusion l had not been
watched and now was nowhere to be
found. The fire was fast approaching
Safety lay only in fight across the river
and very sorrowfully. as you may well sup
pose, they were forced to desert the home
stead and me.
Meanwhile, I, frightened almost to
death, had started on a perilous Journey
for home and papa, whom l expected to
soon find: for, always obseryant, l clearly
remembered the road over which we had
lately travelled. AS night came on my
terror increased. I left the road COM
pletely exhausted and crept into thicket
close by, putting my fingers in my ears to
keep out the dull roar of the distant fire.
In spite of my fear 1 fell asleep. l do not
know how long l slept, but l remem Der
being suddenly awakened by the distant
baying of a dog.
1 was so frightened I could not stir.
alt is surely some terrible beast" |
thought.
The air was suffoeating with smoke.
Nearer and nearer came that dreadful
barking. 1 could plainly hear the break
ing of the brush as the huge animal rushed
hurriedly along toward me. The next
thing I remember is that l was lying in a
strange room with anxious ones bending
over me.
How was I saved? Well it is a short
story. l had as a pet very large Saint
Bernard dog, which was very fond of me.
We left him in the care of a tender
hearted choreboy. who finding him ex-
tremely disagreeable, since he howIed
continually, unfasteped his chain and set
him free. He must have started immedi-
ately on our trail.
1t was he VINO had arrived in the nick
of time and snatched me from a horrible
death. How he knew where to carry me
is still mystery, but ne took me straight
TO the house where my distracted rela-
uves were. Four long weeks l suffered
from the effects of my fright, and never
for a moment during that time could nv
faithful pet be driven from me- He died
OF old age a few years ago, and although
/ was then big girl / wept when they
buried him.