The horsemen swung to the east and rode up to the mesa which lies between Bear and Cattle Canons.  It was impossible to get near Bear, since the imprisoned fury had burst from its walls and was sweeping the chaparral.  The line of fire was running along the level in an irregular, ragged front, red tongues leaping ahead with short, furious rushes.

Even before he could spend time to determine the extent of the fire, Dave selected his line of defense, a ridge of rocky, higher ground cutting across from one gulch to the other.  Here he set teams to work scraping a fire-break, while men assisted with shovels and brush-hooks to clear a wide path.

Dave swung still farther east and rode along the edge of Cattle Canon.  Narrow and rock-lined, the gorge was like a boiler flue to suck the flames down it.  From where he sat he saw it caging with inconceivable fury.  The earth rift seemed to be roofed with flame.  Great billows of black smoke poured out laden with sparks and live coals carried by the wind.  It was plain at the first glance that the fire was bound to leap from the canon to the brush-covered hills beyond.  His business now was to hold the ridge he had chosen and fight back the flames to keep them from pouring down upon the Jackpot property.  Later the battle would have to be fought to hold the line at San Jacinto Canon and the hills running down from it to the plains.

The surface fire on the hills licked up the brush, mesquite, and young cedars with amazing rapidity.  If his trail-break was built in time, Dave meant to back-fire above it.  Steve Russell was one of his party.  Sanders appointed him lieutenant and went over the ground with him to decide exactly where the clearing should run, after which he galloped back to the mouth of Bear.

“She’s running wild on the hills and in Cattle Canon,” Dave told Crawford.  “She’ll sure jump Cattle and reach San Jacinto.  We’ve got to hold the mouth of Cattle, build a trail between Bear and Cattle, another between Cattle and San Jacinto, cork her up in San Jacinto, and keep her from jumping to the hills beyond.”

“Can we back-fire, do you reckon?”

“Not with the wind there is above, unless we have check-trails built first.  We need several hundred more men, and we need them right away.  I never saw such a fire before.”

“Well, get yore trail built.  Bob oughtta be out soon.  I’ll put him over between Cattle and San Jacinto.  Three-four men can hold her here now.  I’ll move my outfit over to the mouth of Cattle.”

The cattleman spoke crisply and decisively.  He had been fighting fire for six hours without a moment’s rest, swallowing smoke-filled air, enduring the blistering heat that poured steadily at them down the gorge.  At least two of his men were lying down completely exhausted, but he contemplated another such desperate battle without turning a hair.  All his days he had been a good fighter, and it never occurred to him to quit now.