Instinctively he felt the sacrilege, and the desire to do something to prevent it.  Something—­yes, but what?  He was himself helpless; he must seek outside aid—­but where?  Suddenly there occurred to the child-mind a suggestion applicable to his difficulty, an adequate solution, for it involved everything he had learned to trust in life.  He remembered a Being more powerful than man, more powerful than fire or cold,—­a Being whom his mother had called God.  Believing in Him, it was necessary only to ask for whatever one wished.  For himself, even to save his life, he would not call upon this Being; but for his mamma!  In childish faith he folded his hands and closed his eyes in the darkness.

“God,” he prayed, “please put out this fire and save my mamma from burning!”

The small hands loosened and the lips parted to hear the first diminution in the growl of the flame.  But it roared on.

“God!” The hands were clasped again, the voice vibrant with pleading.  “God, please put out the fire!  Please put it out!”

Silence again within, but without only the steady roaring crackle.  Could it be possible the petition had not been heard?  The childish hands met more tightly than before.  The small body fairly writhed.

“God!  God!” he implored for the third time.  “Listen to me, please!  Save my mamma, my mamma!”

For a moment the little figure lay still.  Surely there would be an answer now.  His mamma had said there would be, and whatever his mamma had told him had always come true.  The air about him was so close he could scarcely breathe; but he did not notice it.  Reversing head and feet, he started out of the kennel.  It was certainly time to leave.  The roar he had heard must have been of the wind.  Assuredly God had acted before this.  Head first, gasping, he moved on, reached the curve, and looked out.

Indignation took possession of the little figure.  The fingers clinched until the nails bit deep into the soft palms.  The whole body trembled in impotent anger and outraged self-respect.  Upon the face of the small man was suddenly written the implacable defiance which one sees in carnivora when wounded and cornered—­intensified as an expression can only be intensified upon a human face—­as, almost unconsciously, he returned to the hollow he had left, and fairly thrust his tousled head into the kindly earth.

How long he remained there he did not know.  The stifling atmosphere of the place gradually overcame him.  Anger, wonder, the multitude of thoughts crowding his child-brain, slowly faded away; consciousness lapsed, and he slept.