And the forest-demons decided to grant it to him. It was not in accord with their plans that he should lie insensible throughout all the entertainment they had provided for him. So they not only permitted him to waken, but as a final favor they bestowed upon him a super-consciousness—a fine keying of every nerve and an added sensitiveness to his flesh. It was their final beneficence, and they gave it freely. Fargo opened his starting eyes.
His first thought was of flight, and therefore of his horse. But the animal, knowing of old the fear of fire, had sped on down the trail. Fargo was alone. He had to run for it, then, before it was too late. . . . He sat up, shuddering.
It occurred to him then that the fall had bewildered him as to his directions. At the first glance he beheld the fire, but it was in front of him instead of behind where he had left it. It was curious to be so turned around—and he looked over his shoulder, intending to mark the best trail to safety. And then Landy Fargo's throat convulsed and his breath came out in a scream.
The fiery wall was behind him, too, leaping toward him with a deadly and terrible ferocity. The trees flamed like great torches, swayed and fell; the brush was a wall of fire. The conflagration had made a great half circle, just as he had planned, converging to the left of him.
