"It won't be so easy presently."

Beth pulled away with ail her might, and in silence. Suddenly, there was a splash of water on her side, and she almost tumbled into the bottom of the boat. Harvey laughed.

"I thought you'd be catching a crab before long."

Beth's eyes opened wide. "I didn't see any crab, Harvey. My oar just balked."

"That's what is called catching a crab, you know, when your oar doesn't go far enough into the water. Say, Beth, you had better not try to row any more. It'll tire you. Don't you want to stop?"

"No indeed. I like to row."

Again Beth pulled away with all her might. Very soon, she began to feel uncomfortably warm. Her hands burned terribly, and presently she rested a moment on her oar and pointed to the land, now within easy rowing distance.

"Wouldn't that be a good spot for our picnic?"

Harvey saw how tired she was and answered:

"It's just the place, and say, Beth, we'll catch some fish, first.

Here are lines and bait."

They thereupon went to fishing, and both caught a number of fish.

"Now," said Harvey, "it's time to go ash.o.r.e and cook them."

"Oh, I'm so terribly hungry I can't wait. I didn't have any breakfast."

"Why, you poor child. Why didn't you say so before?"

"I didn't think of it. I was having such a good time."

"I couldn't forget that I hadn't had breakfast. How did it happen?"

Beth hung her head. She was thinking of her choleric spouse, and she had hard work forcing the tears back.

"How did it happen, Beth?"

"Why--it just happened. That's all. I'm dreadfully hungry, Harvey."

"Suppose then, you eat a sandwich or so, now, and then we'll cook the fish and have lunch later."

Harvey thought he could also eat a sandwich. It ended by their eating three apiece. Then he a.s.sisted her out of the boat, which he moored fast on sh.o.r.e.

"Now for the fish, Beth."

"How are we going to cook them? Have you any matches?"

"Yes, and there's a frying-pan in my boat. I always carry one, as I cook fish quite often. Didn't I see some b.u.t.ter and salt in the lunch basket?"

"Yes, and, Harvey, here's just the spot to build our fire. This straight bank back of the beach will make a good chimney for the smoke to go up."

Harvey looked at the spot a little critically. Scrub palmettoes and gra.s.s overhung the bank above, which made him wonder if there was any danger of their catching fire. A little breeze was springing up, but he decided that it was not strong enough to carry the sparks to the undergrowth above.

So Beth gathered dry leaves and sticks of wood while Harvey cleaned the fish. Then he applied a match to the bonfire, and it blazed up and crackled noisily. He next placed the b.u.t.ter and fish in the frying-pan and set it on the fire.

At that moment, a little rabbit darted past the children, running up the bank towards the woods.

Harvey started after it calling:

"Come on, Beth. Maybe it will lead us to some young rabbits."

"But the fish."

"They don't need watching for awhile. Hurry on."

It was quite a climb up the bank for Beth, but she succeeded in following close after Harvey.

The rabbit, however, had quite a start of the children, and soon they acknowledged the uselessness of pursuit, and sat down on a log under a tree to rest.

Harvey started to tell Beth of his experience in trying to tame rabbits.

"Yes," he said, "I've had all kinds, from young ones that had to be fed milk out of a spoon to old ones that were so wild that they never could be tamed. I never could raise the young ones. If they didn't die a natural death, a cat or a dog or something would eat them up. For a long time, I never wakened up mornings without finding a dead rabbit.

I have rows and rows of rabbit graves over on our place. You must come over and see----"

He was interrupted by a bird that flew screeching from the tree under which they sat. At the same instant a crackling sound caused them to spring to their feet in terror. The woods around them were on fire.

The breeze had grown stronger, and had carried the sparks upward to the palmettoes and pines, so full of oil. Then it was but a question of seconds before the awful fire sped with lightning speed over the dry undergrowth. Again, it swelled upwards on the scrub palmettoes, and with a flash leaped skywards to the taller trees as if demons were lifting the flames to the very heavens. It was at this point that the children discovered their danger.

Only a person who has seen a fire in the open among shrubs and trees already parched for lack of water, and fanned by a wind each moment growing stronger, can realize with what rapidity the fire spread. To Harvey and Beth, it seemed as if from the moment of discovery, the fire hemmed them in.

The air was sultry, notwithstanding the wind, and with the spread of the fire it grew more so. The sky was marked with fantastic clouds which turned from gray to flaming red.

Beth gazed around her helplessly. She felt as if there was no escape for them from a fiery death, which made her heartily repentant that she had come. She silently prayed to G.o.d to deliver them, and vowed if she lived, never, never to do anything again without her mother's knowledge.

The awfulness of their surroundings and the enormity of his responsibility, came upon Harvey with overwhelming force. He was too horrified for speech, and, for a few seconds, too stunned for action.

On rushed the triumphant flames, blasting everything within range. The hot breath from the fire recalled Harvey to the need of action.

"Oh, Beth, how can I get you out of this horrible place? We are surrounded by fire." Then, in a moment, he added, "I see a way out, if we run."

He caught her hand and half-dragged her through scorching shrubs, circling to the left. Fortunately, they managed to reach a road skirting the woods without serious injury.

Here they saw excited men running towards the woods. "It will burn our homes, our all," they heard one cry. "Our one hope is to start counter fires," another cried.

At the word, to the horror of Beth who did not understand, the men set fire to the low palmettoes a short distance away where there was an open s.p.a.ce.

It seemed wicked to her to set more trees on fire, especially when the men seemed so anxious about their homes burning.

"Let's go," she sobbed.