Her wagon stood, even its white top spared by miracle of the back fire.

But beyond came one more line of smoke and flame.

The black horse neighed now in the agony of his hot hoofs.

His rider swung him to a lower level, where under the tough cover had lain moist ground, on which uncovered water now glistened.

He flung her into the mire of it, pulled up his horse there and himself lay down, full length, his blackened face in the moist mud above which still smoked stubbles of the flame-shorn grass.