The Moving Picture Girls at Rocky Ranch
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Laura Lee Hope >> The Moving Picture Girls at Rocky Ranch
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"Yes, it could be done," admitted Baldy. "We'll help you."
Two or three more days were spent in the open, traveling over the
prairie, making various films. Then a suitable location for the "prairie
fire" was found and a little rehearsal held.
"That will do very well," said Mr. Pertell at the conclusion. "We'll
film the scene to-morrow."
The arrangements were carefully made, and in a big open place the tall
dry grass was set on fire. The flames crackled, and great clouds of
black smoke rolled upward.
"Go ahead now, Russ!" called the manager. "That ought to make a fine
film! Come on, you people--Mr. DeVere, Ruth, Alice--get in the picture.
Register fear!"
CHAPTER XXII
HEMMED IN
Elaborate preparations had been made for this prairie fire picture. In
fact, in a way, the whole story of the drama "East and West" hinged on
this scene. It was the climax, so to speak--the "big act" if the play
had been on the real stage. Naturally Mr. Pertell was anxious to have
everything right.
And so it seemed to be going. The flames crackled menacingly, and the
black smoke rolled up in great clouds that would show well on the film.
In brief, this action of the play was to depict the hardships of one of
the early Western settlers. He had taken up a section of land, built
himself a rude house, and was living there with his family when the
prairie fire came, and he was forced to flee.
Of course all this was "only make believe," as children say. But it was
put on for the film in a very realistic manner. Pop Snooks had
constructed a slab house, with the aid of the cowboys, who said it was
as near the "real thing" as possible. Later on the house, which was but
a shell, and intended only for the "movies," would be destroyed by fire.
Scenes would be shown in which the settler (Mr. DeVere) and his helpers
would try to extinguish the fire before they fled from it.
The first scene showed the fire starting, with the plowmen (Mr. Bunn and
Mr. Sneed) in the fields at work. They were seen to stop, to shade their
eyes with their hands and look off toward the distant horizon, where a
haze of smoke could be seen. The big distances which were available on
the prairies of the West, made this particularly effective in a film
picture.
The taking of the film had so far advanced that the warning had come to
those in the slab shanty. There were gathered Ruth, Alice, Miss
Pennington, Miss Dixon, Paul and others.
"Ride! Ride for your lives!" cried Mr. Sneed, dashing up on one of the
plow horses. "The prairies are on fire and it's coming this way
lickity-split!"
Of course his words would not be heard by the moving picture audiences,
though those accustomed to it can read the lip motions. Really the words
need not have been said, and it was this feature of the "movies" that
enabled Mr. DeVere to take up the work when he had failed in the
"legitimate" because of his throat ailment.
"Flee for your lives!" cried Mr. Sneed. "We're going to try to burn it
back, or plow a strip that it can't get over."
Thereupon ensued a scene of fear and excitement at the slab hut. A wagon
was hastily brought up by some of the cowboys, who were taking part in
the picture, and the household goods, (provided of course by the
ever-faithful Pop Snooks), were hastily packed into it.
Then the girls and others, with every sign of fear and dismay, properly
"registered" for the benefit of those who would later see the film in
the darkened theaters, gathered together their personal belongings, and
entered the wagon.
Meanwhile Russ was kept busy getting different views of the big scene.
Sometimes there would be shown the raging fire sweeping onward, the
black clouds of smoke rolling upward, and the red tongues of flame
leaping out. In reality the fire was only a small one, but by cleverly
manipulating the camera, and taking close views, it was made to appear
as if it was a raging conflagration.
As Russ would have difficulty in showing alternate views of the fire
itself and the preparations at the slab hut to flee from it, Mr.
Pertell, at times, worked an extra camera himself. Thus the time was
shortened, for the fire was something that could not be held back, as
could something of purely human agency.
"Ride! Ride for your lives!" now shouted Mr. Sneed, as he sat on his
heaving horse, ready to ride back and help fight the fire. With dramatic
gestures he pointed ahead, seemingly to a place of safety. "Ride for
your lives!"
"But you? What of you?" cried Miss Pennington, as she held out her hands
to him imploringly. She was supposed (in the play) to be in love with
him.
"I go back--to do my duty!" he replied, as his lines called for.
There was a dramatic little scene and then Miss Pennington,
"registering" weeping, went inside the "prairie schooner," as the big
covered wagon was called.
Paul, on the driver's seat, cracked his whip at the horses and the
vehicle lumbered off, Ruth, Alice and the others who were inside,
looking back as if with regret at the home that was soon to be
destroyed.
Mr. Sneed remained for a moment, posing on the back of his horse, and
then, with a farewell wave of his hand he rode back to join Mr. Bunn
and the others in fighting the fire that had been "made to order." Mr.
DeVere, too, after seeing his family off in the wagon, leaped on a horse
and also galloped back to help fight the flames. There had been a
dramatic parting between him and his daughters--for the purposes of the
film, of course.
"Say, this fire's gettin' a little hot!" cried Baldy, who, with the
other cowboys, had been detailed to put out the blaze. Mr. Pertell was
there to get a film of them, while Russ, a considerable distance away,
was to film the on-rushing wagon containing those fleeing from the
blaze. The picture was so arranged as to show alternately views of the
wagon and the fire fighters. Always, however, there was the background
of the black smoke when the wagon was shown tearing over the prairie,
and the smoke constantly grew blacker.
"Get at it now, boys!" cried the manager, grinding away at the handle of
his camera. "Put in some lively work! Mr. Sneed, don't be afraid of the
fire. You're standing off too far."
The plot of the play was that first an attempt would be made to beat out
the fire, by means of bundles of wet brush dipped in a nearby brook.
This plan was to fail, and then an attempt would be made to "fight fire
with fire." That is, the prairie grass would be set ablaze some
distance ahead of the line of fire, and allowed to burn toward it. This
would make a blackened strip, bare of fuel for the flames, and the hope
was--or it used to be when prairie fires in the West were common--that
this would check the advancing blaze.
For a few seconds the men fought frantically to beat out the fire, then
Mr. DeVere exclaimed, with a dramatic gesture:
"It is no use! We must fight fire with fire!"
The men ran back some distance, Mr. Pertell taking his camera back the
same space. Then the prairie was set ablaze in a number of places, at
points nearer the slab cabin which was, as yet, untouched.
The scene of starting a counter-fire was a short one, for it was quickly
discovered, in reality as well as in the play, as planned, that the wind
was in the wrong direction. It simply advanced the flames nearer the
cabin.
"It's of no use, boys!" cried Mr. DeVere. "We must plow a bare strip."
"Bring up the horses and plows!" ordered Baldy. A number of these had
been held in reserve, out of sight of the camera, and they now came up
on the rush. The idea was that neighboring settlers, having sighted the
prairie fire, had come to the aid of their friends in the slab cabin.
Horses were quickly hitched to the plows, and the work of making a
number of furrows of damp earth, to act as a barrier to the flames, was
started.
While Mr. Pertell was filming this, Russ was busy getting views of the
on-rushing wagon containing the refugees. Several times the team was
stopped to enable the operator to go on ahead, and show it coming across
the prairie. This gave a different background each time.
It was after one of these halts, and just when the team was started up
again that Alice, who was on the front seat with Paul, the driver, cried
out:
"See! There is smoke and fire ahead of us, too! What does it mean?"
For an instant they were all startled, and then, as Ruth looked behind
them, and saw the fiercer flames, and the blacker smoke there, she
gasped:
"We are hemmed in! Hemmed in by the prairie fire!"
CHAPTER XXIII
THE ESCAPE
Paul pulled up the rushing horses with a jerk that set them back on
their haunches. There were cries of alarm from the interior of the
wagon, and from the front and rear peered out anxious faces.
"What is it? Oh, what is it?" cried Miss Dixon.
"There's a fire ahead of us," replied Alice, and her voice was calmer
now. She realized that their situation might be desperate, and that
there would be need of all the presence of mind each one possessed.
"A fire ahead of us!" repeated Miss Pennington. "Then let's turn back.
Probably Mr. Pertell wanted this to happen. It's all in the play. I
don't see anything to get excited about."
For once in her life she was more self-possessed than any of the others,
but it was due to the bliss of ignorance.
"Let's turn back," she suggested. "That seems the most reasonable thing
to do. And I wonder if you would mind if I rode on the seat next to
your friend Paul," she went on to Alice. "I'd like to have the center of
the stage just for once, as sort of a change," and her tone was a bit
malicious.
"I'm sure you're welcome to sit here," responded Alice, quietly. "But,
as for turning back, it is impossible. Look!" and she waved her hand
toward the rear. There the black clouds of smoke were thicker and
heavier, and the shooting flames went higher toward the heavens.
"Oh!" gasped Miss Pennington, and then she realized as she had not done
before--the import of Ruth's words:
"We are hemmed in!"
"Can't--can't we go back?" gasped Miss Dixon.
"The fire behind us is worse than that before us," said Paul, in a low
voice. "Perhaps, after all, we can make a rush for it."
"No, don't try dot!" spoke Mr. Switzer, and somehow, in this emergency,
he seemed very calm and collected. "Der horses vould shy und balk at der
flames," went on the German, who seemed far from being funny now. He was
deadly in earnest. "Ve can not drive dem past der flames," he added.
"But what are we to do?" asked Paul. "We can't stay here to be----"
He did not finish the sentence, but they all knew what he meant.
"Vait vun minute," suggested the German. He stood up on the seat so as
to bring his head above the canvas top of the wagon. Those in it, save
Paul, who remained holding the reins to quiet the very restive horses,
had jumped to the ground.
"The wind is driving on der flames dot are back of us," said Mr. Switzer
in a low voice. "It is driving dem on."
He turned in the opposite direction, where the flames and smoke were
less marked, but still dangerously in evidence.
"Und dere, too," the German murmured. "Der vind dere, too, is driving
dem on--driving dem on! I don't understand it. Dere must be a vacuum
caused by der two fires."
"Well, what's to be done?" asked Mr. Towne, who formed one of the
fleeing party. "We can't stay here forever--between two fires, you
know."
"Yah! I know," remarked Mr. Switzer, slowly. "Ve must get avay. We
cannot go back, ve cannot go forvarts. Den ve must----"
"Oh, if we can't go back, what has become of those whom we left
behind?" cried Ruth. "My father--and the others?"
Her tearful face was turned toward Alice.
"They--they may be all right," said the younger girl, but her voice was
not very certain.
"The--the fire must be at the cabin by now," went on Ruth. "If--if
anything has happened that they were not able to get the flames under
control----"
She, too, did not finish her portentous sentence.
"Ve cannot go forvarts," murmured Mr. Switzer, "und ve cannot go back.
Den de only oder t'ing to do iss to go to der left or right. Iss dot not
so Paul, my boy?"
"It certainly is, and the sooner the better!" cried the young actor.
"Get into the wagon again and I'll try the left. It looks more open
there. And hurry, please, it's getting hard to hold the horses. They
want to bolt."
There were four animals hitched to the wagon, and it was all Paul could
do to manage them. Every moment they were getting more and more excited
by the sight and smell of the smoke and flames.
Into the wagon piled the refugees, and Paul gave the horses their heads,
guiding them over the prairie in a direction to the left, for the smoke
seemed less thick there. It was a desperate chance, but one that had to
be taken.
Ruth and Alice, going to the rear of the vehicle, looked out of the
opening for a sight of their father and the others coming up on the
gallop, possibly to report that the fire had gotten beyond their
control.
But there was no sight of them.
"Oh, what can have happened?" murmured Ruth with clasped hands, while
tears came into her eyes.
"Don't worry, dear," begged Alice.
"But I can't help it."
"Perhaps they are all right, Ruth. They may have gone to one side, just
as we did, and of course they couldn't ride towards us until they got
beyond the path of the flames."
"Oh, if I could only hope so!" the elder girl replied.
The wagon was rocking and swaying over the uneven ground as the horses
galloped on. Russ, who had run to one side when the halt was made, held
up his hand as a signal to halt. He had taken films until the vehicle
was too close to be in proper focus.
"Do get up and get in with us!" begged Ruth. "You must not stay here any
longer."
"I was thinking that myself," he said grimly.
A glance back showed that the fire there had increased in intensity, and
the one in front was also growing. There was presented the rather
strange sight of two fires rushing together, though the one in the rear,
or behind the refugees, came on with greater speed, urged by a stronger
wind. As Mr. Switzer had said, a vacuum might have been created by the
larger conflagration, which made a draft that blew the smaller fire
toward the bigger one.
"Do you see any opening, either backward or forward?" asked Russ of
Paul, when they had gone on for perhaps half a mile.
"Not yet," answered the driver. "Though the smoke, does seem to be
getting a bit thinner ahead there, on the left."
But it was a false hope, and going on a little farther it was seen that
the two fires had joined about a mile ahead, completely cutting off an
advance in that direction.
It was as though our friends were in an ever narrowing circle of flame.
There was a fire behind them, in front of them and to one side. There
only remained the one other side.
Would there be an opening in the circle--an opening by which they could
escape?
"Ve must go to der right," cried Mr. Switzer.
"Und I vill drive, Paul. I haf driven in der German army yet, und I know
how."
They were now tearing along in a lane bordered with fire on either side,
with raging flames behind them. Their only hope lay in front.
"Well, these films may never be developed," observed Russ, grimly, as
took his camera off the tripod, "but I'm going to get a picture of this
prairie fire. It's the best chance I've ever had--and it may be my last.
But I'm not going to miss it!"
And so, as the wagon careened along between the two lines of fire, Russ
took picture after picture, holding the camera on his knees.
On and on the frantic horses were driven, until finally Paul, who was on
the seat beside Mr. Switzer, with Russ between them taking pictures,
called out:
"Hold on! Wait a minute. I think I hear voices!"
The horses were held back, not without difficulty, and then as the noise
of their galloping, and the sound of the creaking wagon ceased, there
was heard the unmistakable shouts of cowboys, and the rapid firing of
revolvers.
"There they are!" cried Alice.
"Oh, if daddy is only there!" Ruth replied.
"Go on!" cried Paul to the German, and again the horses were given their
heads.
But now, even above the noise made by the wagon and the galloping
steeds, could be heard the welcome shouts which told that some, at
least, of those left behind were still alive. The girls were crying now,
in very joy, though their anxiety was not wholly past.
On and on galloped the horses. And then Paul cried:
"There's a way! There's a way out! The fire hasn't burned around the
whole circle yet."
He pointed ahead. Through the smoke clouds could be seen an open space
of grass that was not yet burned, and beyond that sparkled the waters of
a wide but shallow creek.
There was safety indeed! They had escaped the flames by a narrow margin.
And as the wagon rushed for this haven of refuge, there came sweeping up
from one side a group of cowboys, urging their horses to top speed,
while, in their midst was Mr. DeVere, Mr. Pertell and the others of the
moving picture company who had been left to finish the scene at the slab
cabin.
CHAPTER XXIV
A DISCLOSURE
"Into the creek! Drive right in!" cried Baldy Johnson. "Run the wagon
right in! It's a good bottom and you can go all the way across!"
"Go on!" called Mr. Switzer to his horses, and the steeds, nothing
loath, darted for the cooling water. Indeed it was very hot now, for the
fire was close, and it was still coming on, in an ever-narrowing circle.
"Go ahead, boys! Into the creek with you! It's our last chance, and our
only one!" went on Baldy. "Into the water with you!"
And into the welcome coolness of the creek splashed the cowboys on their
ponies and the wagon containing the refugees.
"Where are you going?" cried Ruth, as Russ swung himself down off the
seat.
"I'm going to get this last film, showing the escape," he answered.
"It's too good a chance to miss."
"But you'll be burned!" she exclaimed. "The fire is coming closer."
And indeed the flames, closing up the circle of fire, were drawing
nearer and nearer.
"I'll be all right," he assured her. "I just want to get some pictures
showing the wagon and the cowboys going across the creek. Then I'll wade
across myself. Of course I'd like to get a front view, but I'll have to
be content with a rear one."
And as the wagon drawn by the frantic horses plunged into the water,
followed by the shouting cowboys and the members of the film company,
Russ calmly set his camera up on the edge of the stream, and took a
magnificent film that afterward, under the title "The Escape from Fire,"
made a great sensation in New York.
The brave young operator remained until he felt the heat of the flames
uncomfortably close and then, holding his precious camera high above his
head, he waded into the creek. The waters did not come above his waist,
and when he was safe on the other side with his friends, finding he had
a few more feet of film left, he took the pictures showing the fire as
it raged and burned the last of the grass, and other pictures giving
views of the exhausted men, women and horses in a temporary camp.
"Whew! But that was hot work!" cried Mr. Bunn, mopping his face.
"You're right," agreed Mr. Pertell. "I don't believe I'll chance any
more prairie fires. This one rather got away from us."
There was a shout from some of the cowboys who stood in a group on the
bank of the creek.
"Look! Look at those fellows!" cried Bow Backus. "They just got out of
the fire by a close shave--same as we did."
They all looked to where he pointed.
There, crossing the stream higher up, and seemingly at a place which the
fire had only narrowly missed, were several horsemen. Their steeds
appeared exhausted, as though they had had a hard race to escape.
"What outfit is that, fellows?" asked Baldy Johnson. "I don't know of
any punchers attached to a ranch that's within this here fire range."
"There isn't any," declared Necktie Harry.
"But where did those cowboys come from?" persisted Baldy.
"They're not cowboys!" declared Necktie Harry, looking to see if his
scarf had suffered any from the smoke and cinders. "Did you ever see
real cow punchers ride the way they do--like sacks of meal. They're
fakes, that's what they are!"
For an instant Baldy stared at the speaker, and then cried:
"That's it! I couldn't understand it before, but I do now. It's all
clear!"
"What is?" asked Mr. Pertell, who was still, rather wrought up by the
danger into which he had thrown his players.
"Why, about this blaze. I couldn't for the life of me understand how it
was it could burn two ways at once. But now I do."
"You mean those fellows set another fire?" asked Bow Backus.
"That's my plain identical meanin'," declared Baldy. "Them scoundrels
started another fire after we did ours."
"Oh, how terrible!" exclaimed Ruth.
"Wait; hold on, Miss! I'm not goin' so far as to accuse 'em of doin' it
purposely," the cowboy went on, earnestly. "They may not have meant it.
The grass is pretty dry just now, and a little fire would burn a long
way. It's jest possible they may have made a blaze to bile their coffee,
and the wind carried sparks into a bunch of grass. But I have my
suspicions."
"Why, who could they be, to do such a dastardly thing as that?" demanded
Mr. DeVere.
"That's what I want to know," put in Mr. Pertell.
Baldy turned sharply to the manager.
"Who's been followin' on your trail ever since you started out to make
your big drama 'East and West'?" he asked.
"Who--who!" repeated Mr. Pertell. "Why--why those sneaks from the
International Picture Company--that's who."
"That's them," declared Baldy, laconically, as he pointed to the
retreating horsemen. "That's them, and they're the fellows who sot this
second fire that so nearly wrecked us."
"Is it possible!" ejaculated Mr. DeVere.
"I'm sure of it," declared Baldy. "I ain't got no real proof; but I've
seen a good many fires in my day, and they don't start all by their
ownselves--not two of 'em, anyhow. You can bank on them bein' your
enemies, if you'll excuse my slang," he said in firm tones.
"Do you really mean it?" asked Mr. Pertell, in amazement.
"I sure do, friend. I'm not sayin' they started it to hurt any of you;
but they wanted to spoil your picture, I'm sure of it."
There was a moment of silence, and then Bow Backus cried out in loud
tones:
"Fellers, there's only one thing to do: Let's take after them scamps
and get 'em with the goods! Let's prove that they did this mischief.
Come on, boys! Our horses are fresh enough now."
The tired cow ponies, almost worn out after their race to escape with
their masters from the on-rushing flames, had been allowed to rest and
now they were ready for hard work again.
In an instant, half a score of the sturdy cowboys were in the saddle,
whooping and yelling in sheer delight at the prospective chase.
"I've got to get in on this!" cried Russ. "Wait a minute until I film
the start, fellows, and then I'll get on a horse and take my camera.
I'll go with you, and get the finish of this, too."
A new roll of film was quickly slipped into the camera and Russ dashed
on ahead to show the on-coming cowboys in their rush to overtake the
suspected men.
Then the young operator jumped into the saddle of a steed that was ready
and waiting for him, and galloped on with his friends to get, if
possible, the finish of the affair.
"Oh, isn't it just splendid!" cried Alice, clapping her hands.
"But it makes me so nervous!" protested Ruth.
"I just love to be nervous--this way," declared Alice, with a joyous
laugh.
Away flew the eager cowboys, and those left behind proceeded to let
their nerves quiet down after the strenuous times they had just passed
through. The cook had come up and he at once prepared a little meal.
On the other side of the wide creek the prairie fire burned itself out.
The blaze crept in the dry grass down to the very edge of the water,
where it went out with puffs of steam, and vicious hisses.
"Oh, but I'm glad we're not there," sighed Ruth as she looked across at
the smoke-palled and blackened stretch.
"Yes, it was a narrow escape," said her father.
"What happened after we left?" asked Alice.
"The fire really got a little too much for us," said Mr. Pertell. "And,
as I had pictures enough, we decided to leave. We let the cabin burn, as
we had arranged, and then came riding on.
"But the flames were a little too quick for us, and we had to turn off
to one side. That's why we didn't get up to you more quickly. We were
really quite worried about you."
CHAPTER XXV
THE ROUND-UP
"What's the matter?"
"Couldn't you catch them?"
"Did they get away?"
All needless questions, evidently, yet they were anxiously asked, for
all that, when the tired and disappointed cowboys, led by Baldy Johnson,
returned after the chase. It was dusk, and the prairie fire was almost
out. Only a faint glow showed where, here and there, a bunch of thick
grass was still blazing.
"They gave us the slip," complained Baldy in discouraged tones. "Their
horses were fresher than ours were. Probably they got out of the way of
the fire sooner than we did."
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