The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1916-03-09

ONAy oAu va III lltIlDIcu at lhC
sacrilege. 1t was a carnival Of waste.
a sacrifice Of the gifts of God-and
among all those who fought 1t with
heart and hand and brain there was
none who knew its worldwide import
so we'll, who lamented it so keenly
as the lean, brown forest rangers
whose special foe it was.
And to think a dozen miles Of gov
eminent trails would have prevented
it," cried the leader with an oath.
Out in the valleys beyond, the heavy
smoke had ohscured the setting sun
entirely. Owe the crest Of the Coast
Range it had spread up to the heav-
ems, drifted afar on the changing wind
and all the distant valley Of the Will
lamette knew that the forest fires
were burning in the hills.
The papers throughout the state
told Of it that day, and it awakened
no more interest than would have at
tended the announcement of a heavier
run Of salmon than was usual in the
Columbia.
They were too common, those fires
that sported with the national wealth
each year, too much a part Of every
day life, and they did not know that
this was to be a marker of time In
the coast country.
Time was when they were unknown,
these monsters of destruction-a long
past time it was, when those first for
est rangers, the silent Red Men of
the hills, had burned out the under
brush each ear so that a pony might
go anywhere ~unhindered.
The silent rangers had gone with
the y~ears-passed to the Hunting
Grounds and the reservations, via CIV
ilization, and now the great timber
had shed it's dry foliage and it's pitch,
the little grCwths had sprung up sea-
son after season, the vines had crept
between ana a man might not pone-
trate the Businesses without built
trails.
So Destiny took up the land and
played with it that hot, dry August.
All through the early hours of the
long night they laboreG, dirty, black
ened, tattered scarecrOws Of men, run
Ming here aEi there, digging like mad
in the wide trench that was to stop
the surface flames, saving unceas-
ingly at the towering trees, while the
guards brought twenty-minute tidings
Of the approaching fire.
High against the dun, smoke-light-
ened sky the dark canopy Of the East
Belt whispered ard moaned as if in
fear, and frcm tine to time Sandry, a
haggard, grim-lipped specter of a man,
lifted his blCodshCt eyes toward it. 1t
was still his own, his future Of the
Dillingworth, despite the tangle Of
Hampden's threats, the unrecorded
deed ard the unfinished trail Of the
Yellow Pines at the south, and it
pulled at his heart pathetically.
There was still a stretch of almost
~impenetrable timber near the summit
of the big ridge which must be cut
through before the flames reached it,
or all would be lost.
Shall we make it, John?" asked
the owner desperately Of Daily, who
ran by in the smoke with wet rags to
tie over the mouths of the meI.
Ought to If the wind stays where
1t is
1t was two o'clock and that hour in
the sleeping world outside when all
the elements are at an ebb.
Then, all suddenly, Destiny laughed.
And Destiny's laugh was a %whooping
wind that rose as the elemental ebb-
tide turned. He'll broke loose upon
the land and heaven was not. Fire
encompassed the world. It's increased
roar changed to the thunder of the
spheres. 1t appalled, the hearts OF
men, stayed their hands in fright. All
throughout the darkness of rolling
smoke wherein they worked between
the raging torrent and the East Belt
that mighty voice commanded cessa.
ton.
InstantaneOusly, without orders, as
one man where there was no cormu-
nication save between those a few feet
apart, they dropped their spades, their
tattered blankets, their axes. They
Strengthened from their labor, leaving
IuC Il III IhO uiho. IlSIt anu
there, above the solemn thunder
hoarse voices began to call. 1t was
the time to quit and they realized it
instinctively.
Out! Out! OUT" they cried to
each other in the dusk. Get out!
Get out!"
Walter Sandry. working near the
apex OF the pushing line, saw men be-
ginning to run past him back along the
trench and the cutting. He lifted des-
perate eyes to the ridge whose dim
crest he could see between the boles,
so near had they won to victory. Only
q few more big pines, a dozen saplings,
a scant few yards of trench and it
would be done-the long lane of safety
stretched across the neck of the East
Belt!
Stop! Stop! Stop!" he cried with
q great voice that came from the very
depths of his lungs with borrowed
power. Stand by me. men! For Gods
sake stand by!"
He saw dim shapes falter. half turn
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