The daily morning Alaskan., 1900-09-18
AN AUSTRALIAN BUSH FIRE.


 ground into the shelter of the slab hut. A scorching, whitening heat that had made sapless hay of the grass in the paddocks and reddened the foliage of the gums and the stringy barks like the blaze of a bush fire. A heat that had sucked up all mois. lure and marbled the land with cracks of shrinkage and turned the water holes into mere mud baths, while the distant creek had nothing but its brown flag grass and dry swamp bed to show where the water had run
 About the homestead the few cattle still alive hung with their heads stolidly over the slip rails, refusing. in spite of all driv- ing, to seek again for the sustenance ii was impossible to find. The framework of horse, his head between his legs, and as much in the shade as he could get on the lee side of an old ironbark, stood im- passive and motionless. All round the horizon dirty haze of smoke melted into yellow veil of fog covering the sky.
 Abe Saunders was down at what used to be the creek trying to draw out his last milking COW from the place where she had begged in a vain effort to find water grass.
 Abe hauled and strained at the rope, his shirt and trousers clinging to him with sweat. The beast kicked and plunged feebly, it's little strength quite gone, and after two hours work it was more firmly begged than ever. M Its no good" said Abe. q must get help. I'll go up the gully for old Mason and his tackle. If we lose that COW. what will the children do for milk ?'' 70 Wearily he turned to go, when the sound of a "Coo-e ee!'' turned him sharply about.
 "Coo-eer' he shouted fsts
 A little pause, and again the cry ech- oed:
 "Coo-eer' A
 'It's Mary" he said. "what the devils up?" It was a good three miles to the ridge:g but, like waLlaby with the dogs in full cry, he sped over rock and gully back to the homestead. Long before he got there he heard strange roaring in the air, saw black, belching clouds over the tree tops and felt fierce rushing furnace breath,
 Thesbush was on fire.
 With the energy of fear he dashed along. There was the clearing, with Marysnt the house door still shouting at intervals. Even as he came up the red stornewas upon thcm In mad frenzy he seized the two children. ore under each arm, and, shreking to his wife above the din of the fire to bring the baby, he rushed to the center of the plowed pad dock.g There they crouched painting. The children were bowling. the baby was cry ing and Mary was sobbng. The man said nothing. He watched the fire.
 Would the house escape? There was 50 feet of bare ground all about it. But the air, so calm minute ago. was now a roaring hurricane travelling at racing speed over the ridge. The tea tree scrub melted before it, and the hush trees re mained in it's rear only as black and burning trunks. The fence had caught; the flames licked it up daintily. The shed. with his cart and harness, were and were not while he looked. A piece of burning, stringy bark, whirled by the wind. settled on the shingles of the house. The woman moaned and pressed the child closer to her bosom. The mans face was drawn in agony.
 The house was burning, the work of his own hands. How many months of weary sAWing and splitting had it's shingles and slabs cost him! He thought of it all as he stood there, helpless and half suffo- cated. In less than a minute the flames were shooting out of the doorways and windows, and loud report was followed by the fall of a side of the house. It was the explosion of his powder flask, hung on the wall.
 Through the open framework they could see the bed, the tables, the chairs all blazing one after another. The spirit of the man revolted.
 Look, Maryv' he cried 'grhere goes the cradle I made for the kids" And as he spoke the aspect of his face changed. The limit of his suffering had come and, like an old time victim of the rack he began to laugh. A hollow laugh, weird and terrible. That's good joke, Mary! The farce Is ended-ell over in one act! Ha, ha, hal! Hf t4tt
 You're mad, Abe" said his wife, shrinking from him with great dread in her eyes. Don't laugh like that. It's horriblew
 Mad, my dear! That's good. Ha, ha, hal Say I've been mad, the most con. founded lunatic in this blasted, blstering country! To slog and belt for ten long years to make a home of our own, to clear land. to fence it. drain it, plant it. and all to make five minutes bonfirel Yes. I've been mad-stsrk, staring mad but now-ha, ha, ha! I was never so sensible in my fife!
 ''See how the cradle burns, Mary. It was bit of she oak and worked like a watch, Don't 1t look pretty now? They might be silk curtains, all those founces round it! Why don't you laugh, girl? It's great joke. Look! The roof is falling in! It's as good as fireworks. Hold up the kids; let them laugh. It's all the same price. Ha, ha, hap
 p,,f <ha iod frs nh f.. ened, staring at him. The children screamed.
 The driving sheet of flame had long gone by. Skirting the plowed ground where they stood, it had left the bare surface an untouched blank in its ghast. ly funeral trail. Only tree stumps, posts and fallen branches smoked and smolder. ed here and there. The man stood mo. tionless till morning. But the four char. red corner posts remained of his home.
 Let's see the play out," he said. "Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, hap
 The fire was raging many miles farther onward when Abe Saunders taking the two children by the hand, led the way down the track to the main road. His wife dragged wearily after him. the baby in her arms, looking back from time to time at the smoking ruin.
 The group passed on to the road. where the red dust blew in thick, choking clouds that shrouded them from view. But long after they had disappeared there sound. ed the vail of the children, the moaning of the woman and loud above all the mirthless laughter of broken hearted man.-Exchange. ss
 Victories.