The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1911-08-30

spell OF Indian summer settles on all
the land; bit
I'No more the battle or the chase
The phantom tribes pursue,
But each in it's accustomed place
The Autumn halls anew:
And still from solemn COUNCILS set
On every hill and plane,
The smoke of many calumet
AscenGs to heaven again"
! We would say word about the old
praise in winter, and another about
the old trails that threaded the track.
less waste were it no. that our readers
might do US bodily harra. But no son
OF the prairie will find fault with us
for briefly referring to what was in
many respe IT'S, the grandest thing ever
witnessed on the American continent
"a prairie fire.
| For weeks and weeks the dead grass
was bleaching in the Autumn sun; it
was now as dry as lea sticks and on
that day when the wind favored a
hardy settler on the frontier he went
out to back fire" around his prairie
home. In particularly heavy growth
across swale the fire laughed at
whips, and with one wild exultant leap
lit was off on its mission of destruction
The cresent-shaped rim OF fire length.
ened with every blast of the increasing
wind and in an incredibly short space
of time the fiery bow covered miles
from point 20 point and the red sickle
was sweeping the sward like an
avenging angel. Long tongues of lur-
lid flames writhed and twisted in the
pulsing air and fiery sheets met in
langles and roared like battery of
artillery in action; the rapidly expand
ing air induces gale and long flaming
blades of grass and stems of weeds are
sucked into the inverted funnel and
their DlackeDed cinders float high
above the serging, seething tide. On
it rolls and roars, an avalanche of
fame; fire guards" are leaped at a
bound; hay and grain, gathered by the
hardy pioneers, are licked up by the
insatiate thirst OF flaming tongues and
the worm fences melt in the mouth of
the monster as if they we're streaks OF
snow. Families in it's path stand with
blanched faces. For an hour before
its coming a "back-fire" was widening
the guard" around the lowly cabin
and the treasured grain; the long, low
roar is heard in the distance; through
the riffs in the black veil of smoke
can be seen the flaming flag of the in
vader; loud and louder roars the down
pouring tide: the sun is in total eclipse
and the sitting smoke envelopes that
prairie hone; Lreathless the husband
stands and the mother with blanched
face endeavers to pacify or calm the
terrified children; riot of red ruin i'm
pends-the bulge in the line of fame
meets the "back-ftre in a wild roar-a
pause-the "fire guard" saves that
home and the defeated monster pas
ses around and on nor does it stop it's
mad rush until the scattered fires,
started by The settlers in its path
ournt out its burning" and it became
a mere streak, of struggling fame.
The grand old prairies OF Iowa sur
rendered, long ago, to the pioneers
plow, but never child OF the prairies
can forget the subtle charm of those
grea, stretches of Gods gardens. The
names Of the dearest friends will grow
dim in the thickening dust of the tire
less years; incidents of youth may in
ternittently return-and please with
their charm; JOY will lose it's lustre
and sorrow its pang when filtered
through the stratas Of the years and
ambitions fires will pale with the COM
ing gray hairs, but the memory OF Iowa
prairie must linger in the mind of all
who were Graded midst their charms
until the death-dimmed eye turns it's
gaze on the eternal shore.