The dry, salt crackle of a dead pine close at hand would have told him, even if the oppressive heat had not, that the fire would presently sweep over the ground where they stood.  He drew the men steadily toward Cattle Canon.

In that furious, murk-filled world he could not be sure he was moving in the right direction, though the slope of the ground led him to think so.  Falling trees crashed about them.  The men staggered on in the uncanny light which tinged even the smoke.

Dave stopped and gave sharp, crisp orders.  His voice was even and steady.  “Must be close to it now.  Lie back of these down trees with your faces close to the ground.  I’ll be back in a minute.  Shorty, you’re boss of the crew while I’m away.”

“You’re gonna leave us to roast,” a man accused, in a voice that was half a scream.

Sanders did not stop to answer him, but Shorty took the hysterical man in hand.  “Git down by that log pronto or I’ll bore a hole in you.  Ain’t you got sense enough to see he’ll save us if there’s a chance?”

The man fell trembling to the ground.

“Two men behind each log,” ordered Shorty.  “If yore clothes git afire, help each other put it out.”

They lay down and waited while the fire swept above and around them.  Fortunately the woods here were not dense.  Men prayed or cursed or wept, according to their natures.  The logs in front of some of them caught fire and spread to their clothing.  Shorty’s voice encouraged them.

“Stick it out, boys.  He’ll be back if he’s alive.”

It could have been only minutes, but it seemed hours before the voice of Sanders rang out above the fury of the blast.

“All up!  I’ve found the tunnel!  Step lively now!”

They staggered after their leader, Shorty bringing up the rear to see that none collapsed by the way.  The line moved drunkenly forward.  Now and again a man went down, overcome by the smoke and heat.  With brutal kicks Shorty drove him to his feet again.

The tunnel was a shallow one in a hillside.  Dave stood aside and counted the men as they passed in.  Two were missing.  He ran along the back trail, dense with smoke from the approaching flames, and stumbled into a man.  It was Shorty.  He was dragging with him the body of a man who had fainted.  Sanders seized an arm and together they managed to get the unconscious victim to the tunnel.

Dave was the last man in.  He learned from the men in the rear that the tunnel had no drift.  The floor was moist and there was a small seepage spring in it near the entrance.

Some of the men protested at staying.

“The fire’ll lick in and burn us out like rats,” one man urged.  “This ain’t no protection.  We’ve just walked into a trap.  I’ll take my chance outside.”

Dave reached forward and lifted one of Shorty’s guns from its holster.  “You’ll stay right here, Dillon.  We didn’t make it one minute too soon.  The whole hill out there’s roaring.”