Fires In The North

I came to think, by the flowing river, about our next move of operation, if we should dare to continue by another method. Carrying salvage eastward was imminent to the cabin's safeguarding across the country laying about the California region. Yet this will be considered only when we'll strike hunger within the month, as one could see the storage we had packed full. ''Look, everyone, hey!'', called some frantic voice at the cabin place. I turned quickly, did not hesitate to rush after that shout, and ran through bush and tree for the cabin place. ''Hey, look!'', he called again. Before I had reached the little ridged house, I caught notice of a wall of fire, rising fast and streaking across the sky in smoke. ''It's a fire, a fire!'', he shouted again, calling fourth those inside the house. Yellow blazing fires, reaching high,  50 feet into the sky above the treeline visible to me. The stretch of fires was broad, I came to realize, and slashed across the southern way in a chaos of smoke and creeping haze. ''What happened, something must have happened!'', called the man who sounded the warning.

Those fires, higher than the reach of the oaks and the wilderness pines, never ceased in rising, yet, we saw the terrible flames growing about the brush, and approaching without a chance of extinguishment. I saw nothing moving there, and everything beyond that blaze was hidden, the place where the fire was bounded by, but twinkling forms of birds escaping the wild torrent. ''Go along!'', we heard afar from that distance exceeding the fires of the forest. Then again, ''Go along!''. A rising noise excited the wide crakling of the infernal crescent that the blazes had formed around. At its highest sound of tumultuous whipping, the resonance made its flight over us, and it became clear to us of its form. The craft soared over, passed the climax of the blazes, and across the country place, where it was sent to drop bombardments of fire and gas upon the prairies. It had gone across the scape, and that militant craft we had seen proceeded in dropping two other combustive encasements about a field. ''Get out, we gotta go, let's go!'', ordered my father and some other men.

In the screaming of the few terrorized women, our salvage of all the food and valuables was done for, for we had lost our safest way about the cabin house before a flame would have touched it. Those scurrying men came to escape the smoking place, with, although, the hunting rifles and the medicine suply. We whent with a luck in rushing away out of the way of the fire. They rushed themselves over a hilly vantage, and awaited for the fullness of the fires to encroach over the old cabin in burning and smoke. I was in the closest proximity of the scourging heat, and saw a man escaping the place of the flames, and it was this stranger who called over the bright burning. It, indeed, was a man! That living soul, I saw him with the astounding mood of his red face, stumbled through the brush and away from the discharging of the fires across the southern fields. It were those militants, in some reason, planting their advancements along that California complex of heather and forest. It was the plan nessecery along with the attacks. 

The End

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