two or three ridges. The smoke cloud had reached him and cut off his view of the lower hills. Swiftly his brain calculated the chances. He glanced at his watch. Two hours to climb up—I can make it down in half an hour." One glance, he gave, toward the rock coulee that meant safety; and one toward the leaping flames. The roar was loud, now, and incessant, and as he looked, a current of wind whirled the smoke pall upward, and he saw the long line of leaping flames that shot high above the timbered ridges.
A huge brown bear lumbered past, seeking the higher levels.
With set lips he sprang down the steep trail. The acrid smoke stung his eyes and bit into his throat and lungs as he breathed. The trail blurred, but he ran, as if by instinct, following its tortuous windings. In the narrow valley the smoke was not so thick and he breathed easier. It grew dark. He glanced upward. The sky was completely hidden by the dense smoke cloud that rolled and eddied above the ridges. The sun glared dull and red, like a splash of blood. A sickly, yellowish light filtered thinly into the valley, distorting outlines. Connie tore the pack from his shoulders and threw
