He saw, too, that he must sting Paul into renewed action.
"Get up!" he exclaimed, and he jerked the fainting boy to his feet.
Then, snatching a stick, he struck Paul several smart blows on his back.
Paul cried out with the sudden pain, and, stimulated by it into physical action, began to run with renewed speed.
"That's right, Paul!" cried Henry, dropping his stick and seizing his comrade again by the hand.

"One more big try and we'll get away! Just over this hill here it's open ground, and the fire will have to stop!" It was a guess, only made to encourage Paul, and Henry had small hope that it would come true, but when they reached the brow of the hill both uttered a shout of delight.

There was no forest for perhaps a quarter of a mile beyond, and down the center of the open glittered a silver streak that meant running water.
Henry was so joyous that he cried out again.
"See, Paul! See!" he exclaimed.

"Here's safety! Now we'll run!" How they did run! The sight gave them new strength.

They shot out of that terrible forest and across the short dry grass, burnt brown by late summer days, running for life toward the flowing water.