The Treasure Hunt (6 page)

“Well, all right,” Lydia said grumpily. She put on her coat and scarf and went outside. Tiny puffs of clouds were scattered across the blue sky, chased from horizon to horizon by a strong north wind. She could hear Father talking to the horses as she neared him. “Come on, Ned. Giddyap, King.”

When Father saw Lydia, he stopped the horses and wiped his forehead. “Plowing is not going too well. The plowshare simply does not want to stay in the frozen ground.”

Lydia stared at the pitiful strip of plowed ground. “Then I hope we don't have a fire.”

“Well, I'll keep on trying to plow.”

“Would the creek help stop a fire?”

“Yes, but it doesn't flow between us and the railroad, which is where the fire would come from.” Father peered toward the north. The railroad was far enough away that they couldn't see the train, but they often heard the whistle. On days like today, when the wind was from the north, the rumbling and the whistle were loud and clear.

Father clucked to the horses, and they went on plowing. Lydia wandered over to the creek and down the bank. Only a tiny stream of water trickled over the sandy bed. Lydia knelt for a closer look.
Someone's been poking around in the sand, digging a shallow hole, and throwing up a pile of pebbles. Or maybe it isn't a someone. Maybe it's an animal doing this—a muskrat or an otter?

Lydia thought longingly of the friendly little flickertail squirrels back in North Dakota. Some of them had been like pets to her, and it made her sad to realize that she hadn't seen a single flickertail here in Colorado.

7

Smoke Clouds and Backfires

F
or two days the wind kept blowing from the north, and Father kept on trying to plow. One afternoon he appeared at the kitchen door and said in a low, unsteady voice, “There's a fire. It must have started when the train went through this morning.”

Lydia jolted to her feet. “Is it coming this way?”

All three of the girls crowded to the window. Up from the northern horizon rolled clouds of black smoke!

“Yes, it's coming this way. The wind's still from the north. I'm going to start a fire beyond my firebreak and try to burn toward the big fire, but it won't be easy with such a wind.” Father grabbed the matches and was gone.

“Can we help?” Polly called after him.

He stopped on the porch. “Wet some gunnysacks. Use them to beat out the sparks.”

Polly dashed to the cellar to find sacks. Lydia and
Lisbet stared at one another. “I'm sure glad Father's here!” exclaimed Lisbet.

“But I wish Mother were here too,” Lydia said in a small voice.

Armed with the wet sacks, the girls went outside. Their neighbors on both sides were starting fires too, just like Father. Joe and Jake were gone. They were helping dig the cellar for Ben's new house. Though it was possible to see far across the prairie, Ben's home was not visible from the Yoders'. Ben lived two miles away. Having first built his barn, Ben had partitioned off a section of it for the family to live in until the house could be built.

“I hope the fire doesn't get to Ben's,” Lydia fretted, thinking of her two little nephews and her tiny niece, six-month-old Hannah. How frightened the children would be if a fire came their way!

Flames shot up from below the rolling smoke. Beneath the towering smoke clouds, the men looked puny and small as they rushed around to build their backfires.
Only God can save us
, Lydia thought as she clasped her hands and prayed.

“This reminds me so much of the prairie fire in North Dakota,” Polly said, staring northward. “But we had better firebreaks that time, and we didn't try to burn toward the big fire.”

The backfires struggled and sputtered as if fearful of the monstrous fire advancing upon them. Still, a patch of black
grass was spreading outward, extending the protection of the plowed strips.

Flames shot up from below the rolling smoke.

The smoke got into Lydia's eyes, mouth, and nose. She could hardly breathe. She wasn't sure if it was because of the smoke or because of her fear, which clamped down on her heart like a giant fist.

“The fire is veering to the west!” Polly called above the crackle of the flames. “Has the wind changed? Or is it all because of the backfires?”

With all the smoke, it was hard to tell what direction the wind was blowing, but Polly was right. The big fire had changed direction and was now roaring down a stretch of prairie where no buildings lay in its path of destruction. It was far enough away that no sparks flew into the Yoders' yard.

Father walked over to the girls. His face was black with soot, and the white streaks on his cheeks showed where the sweat had run down. “Thank God that the wind shifted a bit. I don't know if our little backfires would have done the trick without that shift.”

“When will the fire stop, Father?” asked Lydia, her eyes still on the receding flames.

“Well, there's another creek between here and town. Hopefully that will do it,” Father answered.

Lisbet shuddered. “What if the whole town burned?”

Before anyone could reply, they heard galloping hoofs, and there was Jake, riding wildly up the road. He pulled the horse to a stop beside Father and gasped, “Ben's barn burned down.”

“His barn!” Father echoed.

“But that's where they live!” exclaimed Polly. “Are the children okay?”

Jake struggled to calm his breathing. His face was just
as black as Father's. “Nobody's hurt. The fire didn't actually touch their property. It was a spark. You know that pile of hay Ben bought from Mr. Morgan? He had stored it outside the barn in a stack, and it caught fire. Then the barn went up in flames. There wasn't a thing we could do. It happened so fast.”

“But where were the children and Barbara?” Polly persisted.

“They did just as Ben told them. They sat on the pile of earth that we dug out of the cellar. The fire didn't reach them there.”

Lisbet asked urgently, “Were there any animals in the barn?”

“No. The horses were in the field,” answered Jake, more calmly now.

“But their things!” exclaimed Polly. “What about their furniture, their Sunday clothes—everything?”

“All gone,” Jake said with a sweep of his arm. “Nothing's left but the clothes on their backs. Some of the lumber for the new house burned too.”

“Oh, that nice little dress Mother made for Hannah!” Lydia said, thinking of her niece's new Sunday dress.

“And the shirts she made for the boys,” Lisbet added.

“Ben could live with us until we build a house for them,” Father said, deciding on the spot. “I guess I'll go over there right now.”

“Can we take the wagon? We want to go too,” Lisbet pleaded.

“All right.”

By the time they got to Ben's, it seemed the whole community had gathered there. Barbara's parents had already offered to take the family in, and Ben had decided to accept that offer because it was closer to his place. Everybody wanted to give them clothing, blankets, and household goods.

Poor Ben looked bewildered and put a hand to his blackened forehead. “The thing is we haven't got a house to put the things in that you want to give.”

Some of the bystanders chuckled. John Miller spoke up to say, “So we'll get busy building the house right now. The foundation is ready, isn't it?”

The men, looking relieved at having something to do, headed off to the site of the new house. Lydia sat on the pile of earth, her arms around little Noah and Abner. Staring at the smoldering heap of ashes that had once been the barn, she asked the three-year-old, “Was it scary?”

He nodded his head vigorously up and down, and his blue eyes grew wide. “Scary and smoky! Mother had to cough.”

Lydia looked over at Barbara, who stood holding the baby while the neighbor women clustered around her. How must her sister-in-law have felt as she watched her belongings going up in smoke?

Lydia heard Barbara's voice above the others as she said, “I told myself they're just things. We're so thankful our children are safe.”

And there on the pile of earth, Lydia hugged her nephews just a little tighter.

8

Clock of Life

I
don't know if I can sleep tonight,” said Lisbet on the evening of the fire. “Everything just keeps going through my mind over and over again.”

“I keep on smelling those flames,” Lydia said with a shudder.

“Well, if we can't sleep yet, I know what we could do. We could write Mother a letter and tell her all about it,” Polly suggested.

“A letter? You mean she'll be gone long enough that it's worth mailing a letter to her?” Lydia asked.

“The doctor said it'll be over a week,” Polly reminded her. “If we mail the letter tomorrow, it'll reach her in the hospital the next day. She'd be glad to hear from us, I'm sure.”

So they began to write. Lydia told how she felt when the fire was advancing straight toward their place and how
glad she was when it veered toward the west. Then she explained how Jake came galloping home with the bad news about Ben's barn. She wrote, “But they're going to have lots of stuff again because everyone wants to give them something. Even people from town want to give furniture. The storekeeper has given them fabric to make new clothes, so the women are going to be busy sewing. And the men will build their new house real quick.”

How true! In just five days' time, Ben's house was ready to move into, and the three Yoder girls went over to help them.

While looking around her furnished house, Barbara said, “Why, I think I have more things now than I had before the fire.”

Everyone had been so generous. Father had built a kitchen table out of lumber. Five chairs, no matter that none of them matched, appeared out of nowhere. A tiny crib for the baby and a bigger bed for the boys showed up. Someone had given the couple a mattress. Ben and Barbara were sleeping on it on the floor until Ben had time to build a bed frame.

“And you got a new house quicker this way than you would have if the barn hadn't burned down,” said Polly, who was putting on her shawl and bonnet to go home. “Lisbet? Lydia, are you ready to go? We have things we should do at home yet tonight.”

Lydia hurried to get her coat, and soon the three were
on their way. A cold wind was blowing as they drove homeward. Far away to the west, the sun was slipping down behind Pikes Peak, touching the snowy slopes with sunset colors. Lydia felt as if she were wrapped in a warm blanket of contentment.

If only Mother would be in the kitchen to greet them when they got home! Leaving Lisbet to help Father unhitch the team, Lydia and Polly headed for the house. Suddenly Polly stopped and grabbed Lydia's arm. “There's smoke coming from our chimney!”

Lydia took one look at the spiral of smoke and broke into a run, calling, “Mother!” even before she opened the door.

There she was, sitting close to the stove with a bandage on the side of her head. Her dear face was all rosy from the heat of the fire. Lydia ran into her arms, and Mother held her as if she were just five years old instead of ten. “I missed you, Lydia,” she murmured.

“And I missed you too! You were gone a long time.”

“Just a little over a week, but a lot happened to you while I was gone.”

“How did you get home?” Polly asked.

“Catherine and I took the train to town and walked to the doctor's office, which is near the station. The doctor offered to bring us home after he finished seeing his patients. When we got closer to home, we saw that all the grass in the fields is burned, and everything is black.”

Coming in just then, Lisbet said, “What did you think when you got home and there was nobody here?”

Mother smiled. “I just figured you were all over at Ben's place. I got your letter, you know. At first when I read it, I said to Catherine, ‘We have to go home. We can't stay here when Ben and Barbara have lost all their belongings.' But Catherine was very firm with me. She insisted I stay in the hospital until I'd recovered enough to leave safely. She assured me that you would all manage without me.”