Part 23 (1/2)

”The Methodist church is on fire!” yelled the Sport from her high perch on the beam, but there was no need to say more, for several other men had arrived, all in red s.h.i.+rts and firemen's helmets, while others were seen racing from all directions towards the fire-house. In a few moments' time a crowd had collected, each one bent in lending a hand, and all shouting with full vocal power as if they thought-so it seemed to Nathalie-their shouts would put out the fire.

In the midst of this clamorous din, another rubber-booted individual appeared, not only in fireman's regalia, but with a big bra.s.s trumpet.

On this he blew a mighty blast, and then with much gesticulation bellowed his orders to the men.

A final order from the chief, as the man with the trumpet proved to be, and the six or eight men holding the ropes of the engine started at breakneck speed down the hill. They were followed by a crowd of shouting men, women, hooting boys, and crying children, each one frenzied with excitement and with the avowed purpose of being first at the fire.

The girls, for by this time Edith had descended from her perilous perch, stood silent and watched the engine whiz down the slope leading to the town, the red-s.h.i.+rted firemen in front of it shouting angrily in their endeavors to stop the rear men from pus.h.i.+ng it down on their heels too rapidly.

But Edith, who was never still two minutes if there was anything going on, with a wild, ”Hoopla, I'm going to see the fire!” started in the wake of the hooting mob, running at a speed that soon made her one of the rank and file that went plunging down the hill.

Helen's eyes followed the flying figure, and then, with a ”Come on, don't let the Sport outdo us!” she was racing after her. Nathalie, bewildered by this strange and novel experience that had leaped into her life, stood still, uncertain what to do. She felt a sudden abhorrence of mingling with the fire-crazed crowd that surged before her. Brought up to keep away from these spectacular affairs of the city, she felt she would be transgressing all laws of decorum if she followed her friends.

But the impulse to do as the other Pioneers did spurred her on, and with a quick leap forward she cast all conventionalities to the wind, and started on a dead run to catch up with Helen.

The girls were too quick for her and she arrived in front of the church only to make one more of a densely packed crowd of fire-seekers standing opposite the burning building, wild-eyed and weirdly pale from the reflection of the flaming tongues of red, which darted upward with a licking greediness that made the wooden building crack and snap under their devouring greed.

Spying Edith a few feet away, she hastily pushed through the jam of people to her side, only to hear her scream frantically, ”Look out, Nathalie!” But the warning came too late, for a shower of water had already struck her in the back with terrific force, almost bowling her over. Ugh! it was running down her back with such icy spray that she screamed aloud, and then shrank back as jeering laughter from those standing by greeted her mishap.

But their merriment was short-lived, as the water deluge came again and Nathalie saw the contortions that shot from face to face of her neighbors as with shrill cries they tried to dodge to one side in their frantic endeavors to escape. In the midst of the confusion some one suddenly bellowed, ”Run for your lives, the hose has burst!”

There were more shouts of dismay from the crowd of struggling, fighting figures, and then they had scattered. Edith by this time had grabbed Nathalie by the hand and in a moment or so she was safe on a neighboring porch.

”O dear, what will they do?” lamented Edith. ”That hose is the only one in town!” For a few moments it looked as if not only the church but the parsonage and the adjacent buildings were to fall victims to the blazing flames that swept upward and outward with shooting jets between tall columns of black rolling smoke.

”They are going to form a bucket brigade!” shouted Edith suddenly into Nathalie's ear. The words had barely pa.s.sed her lips when she dropped her companion's cold fingers, and was racing with a crowd of men, women, and boys towards a pond a short distance away.

Nathalie stood still and gazed with suppressed excitement at this new development of the fire-crazed people. It seemed to her as if every one in Westport must have owned a bucket from the number of people that sped-as if magic swept-towards the pond, where a long line of human beings, with a deftness and quickness that amazed her, were already pa.s.sing buckets from one to the other and then on to the firemen who formed a line across the road in front of the church.

Each fireman would grab a bucket, pa.s.s it on to his mate, who in turn pa.s.sed it on to the next one, and so on, until its contents had been splashed on the seething flames. Then just as quickly it was shoved by way of another line back to the pond to be filled again and once more hurried on its journey of rescue.

”Come, get busy!” some one suddenly yelled at this crisis. ”They are forming another line at the pump!” Nathalie swung about to see Fred Tyson holding out to her an empty bucket. The unexpectedness of this new demand upon her overwrought nerves tempted her to scurry to parts unknown, as she backed away from Fred with the startled exclamation, ”O dear, no!”

Fred, realizing how she felt, looked down at her with a rea.s.suring smile as he answered, ”Come, you must help; you are a Pioneer-it will be a fine experience for you!” Nathalie, without a word, grabbed the bucket and in another second was running swiftly by the side of this new friend as he guided her to the pump.

An hour later Nathalie appeared at the corner of the street leading to her home. Weary, bedraggled, sooted from head to foot, and with gleaming beads of perspiration running over her face, she was still jubilant. She had been to a real fire, and, what is more, had helped to put it out.

For the buckets had done their work, and although the church stood a framework of glowing embers, the parsonage and other buildings had been saved.

She was so glad when she saw she was nearing her home, that, as she informed Fred, who had accompanied her, she felt like dancing a jig on her head from sheer joy, although she was not only tired to the verge of distraction, but faint from hunger.

”Oh, and there's Mother! I guess she's been almost worried to death,”

she exclaimed as she spied her mother standing on the veranda anxiously peering down the path.

”Well, I guess she has been almost worried to death!” exclaimed a voice, as a white-robed figure stepped out from the shadows of the trees on the lawn.

It was Lucille. ”If it hadn't been for me, Nathalie Page,” she emphasized with upheld finger, ”your mother would have been down to the fire herself. She was sure you were the first one burned to death. Why, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, Nathalie Page!” she averred indignantly.

But there was no need to lecture Nathalie further, for her heart had been thumping violently in nervous dread all the way home, and she was already scurrying up the walk to the stoop. ”Oh, Mother,” she panted, ”did you think something dreadful had happened to me?”

”Well, I was quite nervous about you for a time,” replied her mother rather cheerily for one who had been almost worried to death, as she put her arm around the tired girl. ”Lucille obligingly started to look for you, and met Dr. Homer, who said you were all right, helping put the fire out as a bucket maiden. But, my dear, you are all wet, and hungry, too, I'll warrant.”