canteen.  The thought flashed across his mind that the fire was probably breaking across elsewhere, just like this.  The other men must be in the same fix.  There were six of them.  Suppose the fire should break across simultaneously in seven places?  The little licking flames had at last, by dint of a malignant persistence, become a personal enemy.  He fought them absorbedly, throwing his line farther and farther as the necessity arose, running to beat down with green brush the first feeble upstartings of the fire as it leaped here and there his barrier, keeping a vigilant eye on every part of his defences.

“Well,” drawled Charley Morton’s voice behind him, “what you think you’re doing?”

“Corralling this fire, of course,” Bob panted, dashing at a marauding little flame.

“What for?” demanded Charley.

Bob looked up in sheer amazement.

“See that rock dike just up the hill behind you?” explained Morton.  “Well, our fire line already runs up to that on both sides.  Fire couldn’t cross it.  We expected this to burn.”

Bob suddenly felt a little nauseated and dizzy from the heat and violence of his exertions in this high altitude.

“Here’s your canteen,” Morton went on easily.  “Take a swig.  Better save a little.  Feel better?  Let me give you a pointer:  don’t try to stop a fire going up hill.  Take it on top or just over the top.  It burns slower and it ain’t so apt to jump.”

“I know; I forgot,” said Bob, feeling a trifle foolish.

“Never mind; you’ve learned something,” said Morton comfortably.  “Let’s go down below.  There’s fresh fire there; and it may have jumped past Elliott.”

They scrambled down.  Elliott and Ware were found to be working desperately in the face of the flames.  The fire had not here jumped the line, but it was burning with great ferocity up to the very edge of it.  If the rangers could for a half-hour prevent the heat from igniting the growths across the defence, the main fire would have consumed its fuel and died down to comparative safety.  With faces averted, heads lowered, handkerchiefs over their mouths, they continually beat down the new little fires which as continually sprang into life again.  Here the antagonists were face to face across the narrow line.  The rangers could not give back an inch, for an inch of headway on the wrong side the path would convert a kindling little blaze to a real fire.  They stood up to their work doggedly as best they might.

With entire understanding of the situation Charley motioned Bob to the front.

“We’ll hold her for a minute,” he shouted to the others.  “Drop back and get a drink.”

They fell back to seize eagerly their canteens.  Bob gripped his handful of green brush and set to work.  For a minute he did not think it possible to face the terrible heat.  His garments were literally drenched with sweat which immediately dried into steam.  A fierce drain sucked at his strength.  He could hardly breathe, and could see only with difficulty.  After a moment Elliott and Ware, evidently somewhat refreshed, again took hold.