A PRAIRIE FIRE - by Clara S. Bodwell

from Kith and Kin of the Bodwells, May 1910

For several weeks we had been kept uneasy by the sight of small fires starting up in every direction, but until a week ago Saturday, only two had come near enough to call us out to fight. That day, however, Hason and the boys worked all day, and together with a few others, whose buildings were in danger, they kept it under control until the fire had passed on, out of our neighborhood. It started about a mile and a half northeast of us and half a mile north of the new school house (then about half completed), and sweeping by us on the east, passed on to the southwest, almost touching our southeast corner and nowhere being more than a few rods from our east line. They had to work to save the school house, and in the evening two or three men burned a good guard all around it., and then we all settled down for a peaceful Sabbath.

Lottie and Herbert, who live nearly five miles northwest of us, came over Sunday and said the fire we were watching in the west was just behind them and they were a little uneasy.

Monday morning the smoke in the southwest was awful, and we knew the fire must extend over miles of country, and as there was a strong southwest wind blowing we knew there would be something doing about our place before night. After some hesitation, Hason and Jed went to their work on the school house (Hason had the contract of the building), and left Douglas to plow some fire guards. Well, we went at it, and as we are situated in the midst of thick bluffs, and a very rank growth of grass, breaking the guard was no easy matter. It took all hands to manage the breaker and the horses, and they were becoming wild with all the excitement and the smoke, which was becoming denser every minute. The wind was now blowing a perfect gale, and Hason and Jed came hurrying home, fearing they would be too late. The first head fire was just sweeping past, a little to the northwest of our quarter, and I told Hason and Jed to hurry away to try and save our grain, which was stored in a house on the quarter cornering ours on the northwest. It was nearly a mile from our buildings and they were just in time to save the house, and see the barns all in flames. They had a little help there, but it was the last, as everyone had to rush to their own buildings. Hason set Jed back here, and he was none too soon, as the second head-fire was racing down on us. In an instant he had a back-fire set at the corner of our stables, and he and the rest of us kept it under control with our mops and water we carried from the slough near the stables. Hason came, while we were fighting there, and was pretty thankful to find us all alive. He had been surrounded by fire and was nearly played out before getting clear. He thought the buildings here were all in flames, and was afraid we would be caught. That must have been about one o'clock, and from that time till four we fought like demons.

The third fire came on us from the southwest before we were safe from the second. Then another, a side fire, coming in from the southeast almost caught us before we saw it.

For a while it was like working in hell. The wind blowing a hurricane by this time, the smoke so dense we could scarcely breathe, and the heat so intense our skin was smarting and burning, and added to all this the frightful roaring and crackling of the flames in the trees and brush on three sides of us, completed a situation which none of us want to be in again. The children, Gladys and Gordon held the fort, with their mops on the flat roofed stables, until they were nearly blown off and I called them down and sent them to the slough, in which May, who, long since past helping any, was standing. Norine, also, I called from her post, for her face was burning, and they were all told to keep near the slough. We were cut off from the breaking; Hason and the boys were fighting down in between two bluffs and I was in terror they would b cut of. My, it was awful for a while.

We were a thankful, but a sick lot that went into the house about four-thirty to get a bite to eat, the first since breakfast, but for all that it was very little we could eat.

We were sicker yet, when about a half hour later Jed, who had gone to see where all the stock was, came in and said that our two-year-old colts and the saddle pony were burned to death. They were lying by the side of two other horses and a claf belonging to our nearest neighbor. Our hay stack also was gone. Every one in the hills lost something, buildings, stock, hay, or fences, and some lost nearly everything. There was never anything like it known in this part of the West.

The school house was burned, and with it Hason's tools and all the lumber, shingles and everything. The English church near the school house also fell a prey to the flames, and several persons barely escaped with their lives. Our wagon with the double box on it was standing away out on the breaking, and Gladys happened to look over there and saw the box all in flames. Jed threw the burning box off and so saved the wagon with but slight injury.

That evening, as soon as we dared leave the place, Hason, May and I drove over to see whether Lottie, Herbert, and little Bobby were safe. We found them all right, but very much worried about us all, and expecting, should the wind rise again, to have trouble during the night. The day's terrible anxiety had been very hard on Lottie, so Hason persuaded her to come back with May and me, and he stayed with Herbert to help in case of necessity.

It would be impossible to describe the weirdness of the scene through which we passed during that drive home. Lottie made the remark that she believed it would be impossible to picture it in any way.

All along the main trail the great lines of fire to our right lit up the night, making it almost as light as day. In one place it came right to the trail, but men were watching it, of course. When we turned off to our right to come back home through the hills, we soon passed out of the fires to where it had been burned over. The great dismal blackness of the hills met our eyes. The pasture all destroyed and our beautiful bluffs all killed; it was enough to make us homesick, but we are alive and have our buildings.

Hillsdown, Alberta.