Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine — Volume 54, No. 333, July 1843 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 374 pages of information about Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine — Volume 54, No. 333, July 1843.

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine — Volume 54, No. 333, July 1843 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 374 pages of information about Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine — Volume 54, No. 333, July 1843.

The whole prairie, the whole horizon to the south-west, was now one mass of dense smoke, through which the sun’s disc looked scarcely brighter than a paper-lantern.  Behind the thick curtain which thus concealed every thing from our view, we heard a loud hissing, like that of a multitude of snakes.  The smoke was stifling and unbearable; our horses again turned panting round, and tore madly towards the creek.  On reaching it we dismounted, but had the greatest difficulty to prevent them from leaping into the water.  The streaks of red to our right became brighter and brighter, and gleamed through the huge, dark trunks of the cypress-trees.  The crackling and hissing grew louder than ever.  Suddenly the frightful truth flashed upon us, and at the very same moment Carleton and I exclaimed, “The prairie is on fire!”

As we uttered the words, there was a loud rustling behind us, and a herd of deer broke headlong through a thicket of tall reeds and bulrushes, and dashed up to their necks into the water.  There they remained, not fifty paces from us, little more than their heads above the surface, gazing at us, as though imploring our help and compassion.  We fancied we could see tears in the poor beasts’ eyes.

We looked behind us.  On came the pillars of flame, flickering and threatening through the smoke, licking up all before them; and, at times, a gust of so hot and blasting a wind as seemed to dry the very marrow in our bones.  The roaring of the fire was now distinctly audible, mingled with hissing, whistling sounds, and cracking noises, as of mighty trees falling.  Suddenly a bright flame shot up through the stifling smoke, and immediately afterwards a sea of fire burst upon our aching eyeballs.  The whole palmetto field was in flames.

The heat was so great, that we every moment expected to see our clothes take fire.  Our horses dragged us still nearer to the creek, sprang into the water, and drew us down the bank after them.  Another rustling and noise in the thicket of reeds.  A she-bear, with her cubs at her heels, came towards us; and at the same time a second herd of deer rushed into the water not twenty yards from where we were standing.  We pointed our guns at the bears; they moved off towards the deer, who remained undisturbed at their approach; and there they stood, bears and deer, not five paces apart, but taking no more notice of each other than if they had been animals of the same species.  More beasts now came flocking to the river.  Deer, wolves, foxes, horses—­all came in crowds to seek shelter in one element from the fury of another.  Most of them, however, went further up the creek, where it took a north-easterly direction, and widened into a sort of lake.  Those that had first arrived began to follow the new-comers, and we did the same.

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Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine — Volume 54, No. 333, July 1843 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.