Once Lucy asked Creech what would happen in that case.
"Wal, I reckon the grass would burn back even ag'in thet wind," replied
Creech. "I'd hate to see fire in the woods now before the rains come. It's
been the longest, dryest spell I ever lived through. But fer thet my hosses--
This hyar's a west wind, an' it's blowin' harder every day. It'll fetch the
rains."
Next day about noon, when both wind and heat were high, Lucy was awakened from
a doze. Creech was standing near her. When he turned his long gaze away from
the canyon he was smiling. It was a smile at once triumphant and sad.
"Joel's comin' with the hosses!"
Lucy jumped up, trembling and agitated. "Oh! . . . Where? Where?"
Creech pointed carefully with bent hand, like an Indian, and Lucy either could
not get the direction or see far enough.
"Right down along the base of thet red wall. A line of hosses. Jest like a few
crawlin' ants' . . . An' now they're creepin' out of sight."
"Oh, I can't see them!" cried Lucy. "Are you SURE?"
"Positive an' sartin," he replied.
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