Lad did not enjoy the ever-stronger smoke scent. But he gave only
half-heed to it. His main attention was centered on that winding
wagon-track whence the car and the truck had vanished into the
lowlands. And, through the solemnly spent hours he lay forlornly
watching it.
But, after sunset, the smoke became too pervasive to be ignored
longer. It was not only stinging his throat and lungs, but it was
making his eyes smart. And it had cut off the view of all save
the nearer mountain-peaks.
Lad got to his feet; whining softly, under his breath. Ancestral
instinct was fairly shouting to his brain that here was terrible
peril. He strained at his thick rope; and looked imploringly down
the wagon-road.
The wind had swelled into something like a gale. And, now, to
Lad's keen ears came the far-off snap and crack of a million dry
twigs as the flame kissed them in its fast-crawling advance. This
sharper sound rose and fell, as a theme to the endless and
slowly-augmenting roar which had been perceptible for hours.
Again, Laddie strained at his heavy rope.
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