He must
get out of that forest even if he ran directly into the middle of a Union
brigade. The wind was bringing the fire fast. It leaped from one tree
to another, despite the recent rains, gathering volume and power as it
came. Sparks flew in showers, and fragments of burned twigs rained down.
Twice Harry's face was scorched lightly and he had a fear that one of
the blazing twigs would set his hair on fire. He made another effort,
and ran a little faster, knowing full well that his life was at stake.
The fire was like a huge beast, and it reached out threatening red claws
to catch him. He was like primeval man, fleeing from one of the vast
monsters, now happily gone from the earth. He was conscious soon that
another not far from him was running in the same way, a man in a faded
blue uniform who had dropped his rifle in the rapidity of his flight.
Harry kept one eye on him but the stranger did not see him until they
were nearly out of the wood. Then Harry, with a clear purpose in view,
veered toward him. He saw that they would escape from the fire. Open
fields showed not far ahead, and while the sparks were numerous and
sometimes scorched, the roaring red monster behind them would soon be at
the end of his race.
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