The Secret of the Stone House (17 page)

As Emily kept an eye on Geordie’s movements, she watched his mom and the girls clear away the meal, and the men disperse back to their work at the house. They skimmed past Emily as she stepped out of their way, except for Geordie. She’d lost sight of him. Soon afterwards, Emily could hear the pounding of hammers and the sound of lumber being moved about. She peeked inside and saw Jack and Duncan applying slats to the dividing room walls on the main floor. They were almost finished.

She caught a sudden dark movement out of the corner of her eye, causing her to turn around. Geordie drove past her in a small cart with two oxen, heading down a trail through the pasture. In a flash, Emily chased after him. At first he didn’t notice her, but it didn’t take her too long to catch up, as the oxen travelled so slowly.

“Wait,” she called out breathlessly, coming up beside him.

Startled, he jerked on the reins, but the oxen took some time to respond.

“You sure can scare a fellow,” he laughed as Emily caught up. “I guess you are paying me back for shocking you the other night.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she said. “But I need to tell you something important.”

He reached down and pulled her into the seat beside him.

“There’s a prairie fire coming. Your family needs to prepare for it.”

He chuckled and pointed across the landscape, as he flapped the reins to get the oxen moving again. “Look, lass, there’s nothing out there.”

All around them, the prairies stretched and rolled, with long bent grasses, yellowing and brittle from the heat of the sun, and dotted with small trees and bushes that had lost most of their leaves to the heat and the autumn cycle. Dust rose in whirling puffs behind the cart as they followed the dry dirt trail winding along the contours of the landscape.

“I know it doesn’t look like it right now,” she said, “but it could happen any time.”

“That’s always a danger,” he answered. “But I won’t be gone long and surely it can’t happen for quite some time.” Geordie peered up at the dazzling sky and wiped his forehead with his arm.

Emily was tempted to agree as she scoured the serene countryside. In the distance, she saw fields with ripening crops and small homestead sites where wooden shacks or sod shanties stood. Songbirds flitted overhead and startled gophers chattered. The rasping of the wheels on the hard ground almost lulled Emily into believing nothing was about to happen. She had to be right, though, and she needed to convince Geordie of their imminent danger.

As they plodded along, she found it hard to concentrate. Riding behind oxen was scorching hot, because their slow pace didn’t create any kind of air movement, and the cart seemed to hit every bump and clump of grass on the trail. Emily wrinkled her nose in distaste as they passed a stagnant slough. But the acute stench brought her thoughts into sharp focus.

“How long has it been since Sandy’s wedding?” she quizzed Geordie.

“Two days,” he answered.

She thought about it for a moment. “It’s going to happen today,” she said with certainty.

She saw that Geordie couldn’t decide whether to believe her or not.

“I read it in your homestead papers and in your mom’s diary.”

He looked uneasy. “You must be mistaken. There’s not even any wind.”

Emily persisted. “You must convince your family of the danger. And you have to do it right now!”

“But I need to go to the old place to get feed for the livestock,” he said.

“That can wait.”

Geordie explained patiently. “We ploughed a fireguard around the yard in the spring.”

“I don’t think that’s enough,” Emily said, recalling the grim words in her great-grandmother’s diary. “Your family needs to get better prepared.”

As her words died away, the wind rose and lifted Geordie’s hair. Spooked, he turned the oxen around and headed home. Somewhat relieved, Emily sat back quietly as they plodded back within sight of the Elliotts’ stone house.

Geordie spoke at last. “You have our homestead papers and my mom’s diary that she’s still writing in. You know more about our future than we do.”

“I don’t know everything, Geordie. But I’m sure about the fire.”

He pointed to the darkening sky to the west.

“A storm is brewing.” He anxiously flipped the reins along the oxen’s backs to spur them on. A sudden wind gust buffeted them.

“I’ve never seen anything come up that quickly,” Emily commented. Then she noticed a band of dull red light in the distance.

Sudden fear gripped her. She touched Geordie on the shoulder. “It’s not a storm.”

The wind increased and the brightening crimson on the horizon spread and widened. The oxen sensed the changes. They moved faster now, but were harder to handle, twisting and jerking with each gust of wind. Suddenly, Geordie yanked the beasts to a stop. The oxen bellowed and jerked at their harness almost upsetting the buggy.

“Jump off,” Geordie yelled, as he leapt from the swaying buggy and went to the front of the yoked pair.

Emily vaulted out of the buggy and ran to help Geordie calm the oxen. But as she came up the other side of them, she drew back, uncertain what the huge beasts would do. Swiftly, Geordie unharnessed the oxen, then slapped them on their rumps.

“What are you doing?” Emily asked anxiously.

“Freeing them to find their own shelter. It’ll be faster if we run.” They watched the animals head over a nearby hill.

He grabbed Emily’s hand. “Come on. We have to warn the others.”

As Emily and Geordie pounded across the prairie back to the stone house, the wind increased and so did the height and width of the band of red on the horizon. Moments later, they were within shouting distance of the homestead. Emily could smell smoke now.

“Dad! Mum!” Geordie yelled as he ran. “Fire! Prairie fire!”

Emily felt herself falling further behind and Geordie sprinted faster. “You go on,” she yelled at Geordie. “I’ll catch up.”

Family members emerged from the house, outbuildings, and garden, gathering around Geordie. In a moment, Jack and Duncan raced to round up and harness the horses, while George Sr. ran to the plough to help hook it up. The girls grabbed feed buckets and pails from all over the yard and ran towards the well, their hair and dresses flying in the wind. Geordie’s mom raced to an outbuilding and came out with an armload of gunnysacks.

A thick front of smoke stretched from north to south as far as she could see. The older boys had harnessed the horses now. Jack drove one horse around the outskirts of the yard with the sixty-centimetre breaking plough, while Duncan with his horse hooked up to the disk harrows, went in the other direction. Both churned up the earth as fast as they could go, concentrating on the western side of the yard, before going around their whole farmyard, struggling to keep the frightened horses in line.

George Sr. loaded an empty water barrel onto the stoneboat, and he and Geordie dragged it to the well with all the strength they could muster. Bella and Beth soaked the gunnysacks in the water trough as fast as Geordie’s dad could pump more water into it. Then Geordie filled the water barrels in tandem with his dad for later use, while the girls ran the sopping sacks to the edge of their property. Kate and her mom ran about shutting the chickens in the henhouse and making sure the pigs were secure in their pen. Then they raced back to the well site to help some more. All at once, Geordie’s mom looked around herself in some urgency.

“Molly,” she called. “Where are you?”

She ran to the house. “Molly!” she screamed.

The other girls dropped what they were doing and began to search for her. Geordie and his dad joined the fray. Kate tore towards the garden running through the rows of tall corn, while her mom and Beth ran through the house. Geordie and his dad checked all the outbuildings. Emily ran too, checking around all the bluffs and stands of trees in the yard. She couldn’t recall seeing Molly since she’d arrived. Everywhere she could hear people calling for Molly. George Sr. waved Duncan and Jack to continue breaking ground. There were already enough people searching for Molly, and the clouds of smoke were gaining ground.

Then as Emily rounded the caraganas, she came face to face with Geordie, sweating and breathing hard.

“We can’t find Molly! She’s always traipsing off by herself. I don’t know where the wee bairn could be.” His eyes filled with dread.

In a flash, it came to Emily.

“I do,” she said, and took off at a full-tilt run across the yard.

Geordie quickly caught up to her and they kept pace as they stumbled over the newly-tilled ground, and then ran flat out across the prairie to a stand of poplars. As they drew close, they could hear Molly talking to her doll, Jane, placidly playing tea. Emily skidded to a stop to catch her breath, so she didn’t frighten the little girl. She motioned to Geordie to do the same.

“Hello, Molly,” Emily tried to keep the quaver out of her voice, as she pushed aside the branches.

She looked up in surprise. “Emily,” she said. “And Geordie. Have you come for tea?”

“Not this time, Molly,” Emily said gently. “We’ve come to take you home.”

Molly frowned, “But I like it here.”

“Come on, lassie,” Geordie said. “Mum’s looking for you. She wants to make sure you’re safe.”

Molly stared ahead, unseeing, as if listening to something inside her mind. She shook her head. “We cannae go home.”

Geordie scooped her up.

“I can’t leave Jane,” she yelled.

Emily grabbed her doll and Molly pulled it close as they pushed out of the bush. They came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the trees, watching the flames race across the dry prairie faster than a galloping horse, straight towards them. The towering wall of fire, at least a kilometre wide, burned everything in its path, igniting small bushes, and chasing small frenzied creatures as it rolled over the dry grass. In the distance, someone’s shack burst into flames in the rising wind.

Within moments, the air around them filled with the smell of burning grass and bushes. Flocks of birds rose to the skies, squawking. Flames shot into the air from an overpowering cloud of bluish black smoke between them and the stone house.

“What are we going to do?” Emily screamed.

“We’ll never make it to the house!” Geordie yelled above the crackling of the fire. He swung Molly onto his shoulders. “We have to find someplace the fire can’t reach us! A ploughed field or some water.”

Emily watched the sheets of flame roll towards them, following the contours of the land, skirting a larger grove of trees that moments later ignited. Fear gripped her as fire leapt over the dirt trail about two kilometres or so behind them. She scouted around for a nearby field or one of the stinky sloughs they’d passed earlier, but couldn’t see anything. The horrendous roar grew louder.

“Come on!” Geordie grabbed her hand. “We’ll make a run for it!”

“Wait!”

Emily snatched off her backpack, suddenly remembering what was in it.

“Leave it! There’s no time for anything,” Geordie shouted.

“I have water,” she yelled back.

He nodded and pulled a cloth handkerchief out of his pocket. As Emily fumbled to open the bottle of water, Geordie shoved Molly’s doll into the backpack. Together they wet the handkerchief, and Geordie handed it to Molly, instructing her to keep it over her face. Molly nodded, her eyes big and round with fright. Then he ripped off a portion of his shirt, tore it in two, and soaked the pieces for Emily and himself. Emily threw the bottle back into her pack and in a moment they were running hard, Geordie struggling to keep Molly secure on his back.

As they ran, the wind drove into their backs. Bits of ash and other debris swirled around them. Their eyes stung and their throats burned, even with the moist cloths protecting their mouths and noses. Rabbits, coyotes, and birds crossed their path, trying to outrun the fire. They joined a rutted trail and watched as a burning clump of tumbling mustard swept past them and started a fire on the other side. How were they ever going to escape?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Emily was stunned by the power and speed of the fire.
Looking back, she saw long tongues of flame shoot six to nine metres ahead of the main wall of flame. Clumps of “prairie wool” took to the air and came down as torches to the grass, starting new fires.