CHAPTER XX

A TERRIBLE BATTLE

The Radio Boys found it harder now to fight against the onrushing flames. They had entered the battle full of fresh strength and energy, but now that had been in a large measure spent, and it was on sheer will power that they flung themselves once more into the inferno of heat and smoke.

If it had been bad before, it was almost unendurable now. Terrible blasts of heat smote down upon them, while billows of acrid smoke threatened momentarily to overwhelm them. Gasping and choking, with the hot fingers of fiery destruction clutching at them, they threw themselves face downward on the ground, seeking momentary relief from the searing torment. But even as they lay striving for a breath of pure air, their clothing smoldered and smoked, bursting into tiny flames here and there.

Bob leapt to his feet, beating out patches of flame from his garments, and the others struggled up, looking to him for leadership in their dire extremity. Obviously, the fire was now utterly beyond control, and to attempt to stem its onward rush would be madness. How to save themselves from that red destruction was all they need consider now.

Look where they would, they could see red lines of fire. The tremendous crackle and roar of the oncoming conflagration crashed on their ears. Whatever they were to do must be done quickly, for no man could live long in that scorching, searing heat. The thought of the lake flashed into Bob’s mind, and with a shout to the others to follow, he started off. But he did not go far. Between them and the lake was a towering mass of flaming trees which effectually barred progress in that direction. But it might still be possible to skirt around the fire, and like a flash Bob thought of an old woods road that ran in a rough semicircle through the woods and ended not far from the lake. The smoke was so thick that it was agony to see or breathe, while the heat became more intense every instant.

With a shock and a curious sense of surprise it came to Bob that death was close upon him and his comrades, that they were marked to die in that chaos of falling trees and leaping flame. With the thought came a creeping, paralyzing sense of helplessness and panic and a temptation to surrender to the inevitable. But only for a second. Then he gathered himself together and shook off that nightmare feeling. He was young and strong, and death was not for him. With a gasping shout he started off in the direction where instinct, more than anything else, told him that the old woods road started, and the others staggered after, their failing spirits still clinging to a trust in the leader who had never yet failed them.

Searching frantically back and forth, Bob at last located the opening he sought, and dashed in. The others followed, and they all staggered along, tripping, falling, staggering to their feet, but always a little nearer their last hope of life—the lake!

They had covered perhaps half the distance when they were stopped short by a shout from a thicket to one side of the road.

“Save me, or I’ll be burned up! Save me!”

Had the Radio Boys been of another breed, they would have thought only of their own safety and paid no attention to the plea for assistance. But they were incapable of refusing aid to another, no matter how great their own peril, so they turned off from the road and presently came to the source of the outcry.

Prone on the ground lay Buck Looker, yelling lustily but making no other effort to save himself. Indeed, he was so unnerved by terror that had the Radio Boys not come to his assistance it is probable that he would have lain in the same place until the fire found him and put an end to his career. It was all they could do to haul him to his feet and drag him along with them, but they did their best, although this greatly retarded their own progress. And they could ill afford to lose time. The fire was rapidly closing in upon them.

Ahead they could see the opening through the trees which marked the end of the road, and they knew that the lake was only fifty yards or so past this. But even as they looked, some wandering breeze threw a tuft of flame into one of the trees ahead, the leaves and branches burst into flame, and the archway through which they would have to pass was outlined in fire.

Buck gave a howl of terror, and even the Radio Boys hesitated, appalled at the sight. They gazed desperately about them, but on every side the red tongues of the fire demon were lapping greedily at them. There could be no stopping and no retreat. To advance seemed almost as hopeless, but there was no choice left them.

Their chances were further diminished by the fact that Buck, overcome by terror, had fainted, and they were forced to carry his inert form between them. How they ever covered the remaining distance none of them could afterward tell. They had literally to run through the fire for twenty feet at the end, and when they emerged into the open space bordering the lake their clothing was afire in several places. Summoning the last remnant of their strength, they rushed toward the lake and threw themselves into the blessed coolness of the quiet water.

Words cannot describe the relief and luxury of that plunge. They splashed about, cooling their parched and blistered skins, reveling in their deliverance from the furious heat that pervaded the air. Close to the surface of the lake the atmosphere seemed cooler and less smoky, and it was possible to breathe and live.

At the first touch of the cool water Buck Looker had regained consciousness, but he was still overcome with terror and the fear of death, and did nothing but mutter and moan to himself. The Radio Boys took little further notice of him, however, but set about salvaging their radio set, which they had left close to the bank of the lake.

The fire was closing in on the lake from every side now, while the heat steadily waxed greater and stronger. The boys were forced to duck under the water continually, to get relief. Burning leaves and sticks hissed down on the lake in a steady shower, while the crackle and roar of the fire were deafening. In only one direction was there a break in the ring of flame, and that was on the side where their bungalow was situated. From that direction came a faint breeze, which fanned the fire to even greater fury, but at the same time drove it back on itself, so that its progress there was greatly retarded.

“It’s getting too hot along the shore, fellows,” said Bob. “Out near the center of the lake we’d be further from the fire and have a better chance.”

“Yes, but we can’t swim forever,” objected Joe. “We’ll have to get hold of something to keep us afloat.”

“Oh, that part is easy enough,” replied Bob. “There are plenty of logs that we could shove out and hang onto. But if we’re going to save the radio equipment, we’ll need something more substantial. Maybe if we work fast we can sling some kind of raft together that will do the trick.”

“That’s the idea!” exclaimed Joe. “Up and at it, fellows. We might as well get cooked a little more while we’re about it.”

In spite of the scorching heat, the boys dashed up the bank and ran to the place where they had left their radio equipment. They were none too soon, for the fire was within a hundred yards of it. The metal parts were too hot to be touched, but as yet nothing had been damaged. To construct any kind of raft under such conditions was extremely difficult, but the boys went at the task with a dogged determination that refused to recognize the word “impossible.” Their wet clothes steamed in the heat, and at short intervals they were forced to dash into the water and wet them anew.

Nevertheless, by dint of tremendous exertions, they dragged several logs together. Then the problem arose of fastening them together, and this time it was Jimmy who had the inspiration.

“There’s a big roll of new antenna wire somewhere in that pile of equipment,” he said. “If we can get hold of that it will be just the thing to lash the logs together with.”

This idea seemed so good to the others that they acted on it instantly.

A short but furious search brought the coil of wire to light, and with it they lashed the logs securely together. This gave them a fairly substantial raft, capable of floating them and their equipment. The work was finished not a moment too soon. The breeze had freshened, sending waves of terrible heat over them, and at the last moment they were almost forced to leave their precious radio outfit and take to the water without it. It required a high type of courage to work in that inferno, but they stuck gamely to it, while the skin on their hands and faces blistered and peeled, and their clothing steamed and smoked and broke into patches of flame.

With the strength born of necessity they pushed and hauled the raft into the water and loaded their radio outfit on it. Then they plunged in themselves, and headed away from shore, swimming and pushing the raft before them.