Mr. Miller, too, heard a pounding; only, he awakened5 enough to know that it was a real pounding, upon the front door, and was no dream.
He sprang from bed, and sticking his head out of the window over the porch called:
“What’s the matter down there?”
“Are you folks all dead?” called back a man. “Get up! Your barn’s afire!”
And Mr. Miller suddenly saw that the night around-about was strangely lighted.
Ned was still striving to escape from under the scull-boat, when he was brought to the surface in a flash by his father’s commanding voice:
“Ned! Ned! The barn’s on fire!”
“Keep cool, Ned,” encouraged his father. “And dress as fast as you can.”
Trying to force his eyes open, and collect his senses, Ned fumbled7 for his clothes. Now the night in his room was turned to day by a glare of red light, and he could see flames reflected in the mirror of his bureau. In through the window floated a sharp crackling.
He heard his mother’s exclamations11 of alarm, and his father’s replies to calm her; and without, echoed the feet of running men, the cries: “Fire! Fire! Fire!” and the doleful rise and fall of the water-works whistle.
His father rushed heavily down the front stairs, and the door slammed behind him.
Ned, his clothing only half fixed12, instantly followed. As he flew through the back hall he glimpsed Maggie, wringing13 her hands, quite beside herself with grief and fright.
“Oh, Neddie!” said his mother, whom he passed at the head of the stairs, her hands filled with valuables.
He did not reply, but dashed down, and out of the back door.
The whole west end of the barn, joining the wood-shed, was blazing. His father was already attacking the sliding carriage-door (fastened from within), with an ax, while a little group of spectators, anxious to help, stood about him.
“Where’s the key to this?” demanded a man, who was tugging14 at the padlock of the smaller single door.
The key had slipped into a crack, but he drew it out, and put it to the padlock.
“Bob! Here, Bob! Here, Bob!” he hallooed again.
But no Bob. With a sob18 in his throat Ned sprang across the threshold, only to be seized from behind and dragged back, while the flames, disappointed, licked after him into the outer air.
“You little fool—are you trying to kill yourself?” roughly asked the man, holding him tight.
“But my dog’s in there!” cried Ned, straining to break away. “Here, Bob! Here, Bob!” he called.
“Y-y-yes, I see,” quavered Ned, growing limp with a sense of the awful thing that had happened. Oh, Bob, Bob, Bob!
He ceased his efforts to be free, and the man released him.
In the meantime Mr. Miller’s blows had splintered a hole so that he was enabled to reach in and lift the hook. The sliding door crashed open, and in through the smoke he dashed, seized the buggy by the rear axles, and dragged it into the yard. Its varnish20 was blistering21 from the heat.
Time for rescuing anything else was not given. In a fierce tide a torrent22 of blaze from the burning hay above poured out between the warping23 boards, and bending inward with the draft filled the doorway24. Through the barn, top to bottom, ravaged25 the fire-giant with his flaming sword.
Still the water-works whistle was tooting and yodling, but not a hose cart had arrived. The crowd was growing rapidly, for the fire, fed by a ton of hay, and a quantity of grain, was lighting26 up the vicinity for blocks. There was a constant volley of queries27 about the hose-companies, and a constant gazing down street for some sign of their coming; Mr. Miller was in despair; but no cart was yet on hand.
The kitchen gable was beginning to smoke. Ned hurriedly coupled the garden hose to the faucet28 set in the foundation of the house, and turned the nozzle upon the scorching29 paint. The stream appeared ridiculously small, and was bent30 and shattered by the storm of inrushing air.
Mr. Miller crawled through a second-story window above the kitchen roof, and hung a coverlet, hastily jerked from a bed and soaked with water, over the gable where the heat seemed worst. A line of men was formed from the pump and from the kitchen sink, up the back stairs, and passed buckets of water out to him. These he emptied over the coverlet, and here and there over the shingles31.
Below, inside, were Maggie and Mrs. Miller, the one naturally as strong as any man, the other nerved, by the crisis, to unusual strength, standing32 at the faucets33 of the sink and filling pails, pitchers34, wash pans, anything that might serve to supply the line of men.
Outside, with the fire baking him, behind, and the spray from the nozzle drenching35 him, in front, Ned valiantly36 plied37 his stream. On a sudden it died away to a mere38 trickle39. The hose, under the increased pressure put on by the water-works, had burst.
Ned dropped the nozzle. At the same instant a chorus of shouts arose, and a score of hands were upstretched, pointing at a spot where, eight feet above the kitchen roof, under the exposed gable-peak of the main portion of the house a flicker40 of flame was licking along.
Mr. Miller, bareheaded, his eyebrows41 and hair singed42 by the waves of heat, from his position upon the sloping roof of the kitchen, heard the cries of warning, and saw the blaze which had passed his defenses, and was in his rear. But in vain he dashed water at it. Protected as it was by the overhanging eaves, and occupying a place awkward for him to reach, it resisted all his efforts.
“Climb up with a rope!” yelled some voices.
“Get a ladder! A ladder’s the thing!” yelled others.
But nobody seemed able to find rope or ladder, and the flame continued to grow.
Ned shot through the kitchen and up the front stairs. He bolted into his room—it was hot as a furnace, poor little room!—and snatching his ball of trot-line from the drawer where it had lain nearly a year, bolted out again. He scrambled43 through the open window of Mr. and Mrs. Miller’s bedchamber, and running along the roof of the front porch shinned up the water-spout and was upon the house-top. He scaled the steep slant44, and now, balanced astride the peak, shuffled45 toward the farther end. The crowd saw him, and cheered.
“Ned! Go down,” exclaimed Mr. Miller.
Ned wasted no time in arguing.
“Tie a bucket or something on this,” he called, lowering his trot-line as he unwound it.
Mr. Miller grabbed a small tin pail which was just being passed out to him, and fastened it to the dangling47 cord. With the water splashing from it Ned hauled it up, and the crowd of spectators watched, breathless.
All he could do was to lean over as far as he dared and dash its contents up under the eaves; a groan9 from the watchers told him that he had done no good. Although attacked from above and below, the tiny blaze lived on.
The fire had spread from the Miller barn westward48, and by means of the on-stretching sheds was eating its way, rod by rod. The Millers49’ next door neighbors, on the west, were battling stoutly50, with garden hose and buckets, and the structures across the alley51 had caught.
These were low sheds, and not barns, so that the houses were not apt to catch. The Miller house was the only one that seemed doomed52. Try as they might, neither Ned nor his father nor other eager helpers could put out that steady flame under the eaves; and now the kitchen eaves, also, were smoking and smouldering in a dozen places. The kitchen roof was getting so slippery that Mr. Miller could hardly move about on it.
“Clang! Clang! Clang!” The approach of succor53 faintly fell on Ned’s ears. The hose-carts, at last!
“The hose-carts! They’re coming now!” he shouted to his father.
“The hose-carts! There come the hose-carts!” murmured the crowd in swiftly increasing tones.
“Hurrah!” cheered Ned, scrambling54 back over the roof to the porch.
“Thank God!” sighed Mr. Miller; and then he could not refrain from adding, as he had a right to do, the mild criticism: “And it’s about time they came, too.”
Indeed it was. Down the dark street, shaded by the trees, appeared four spots of light. “Clang! Clang! Clang!” louder sounded the gongs—never a more welcome sound. With tramp of feet and hoarse55 shouts up raced the rival carts of the Pole Star and Defiance56 companies, drawn57 by their volunteers, and unreeling their hose as they came.
With a crash and a shower of sparks the loft of the barn fell in, but there still was plenty of work for the two floods that presently gushed58 from the fire nozzles. Mr. Miller hastily ducked through the window, and above his head spattered a heavy stream before which the impudent59 blaze beneath the main gable was blotted60 from existence. A driving deluge61 swept against the kitchen, and all those little flames that had been taxing the bucket brigade vanished in a twinkling.
The house was saved; but seldom house had more narrow escape!
Ned, climbing in again from the porch, had proceeded to do something that long had been on his mind. His loaded shotgun cartridges62! Supposing the house should burn and they should explode and injure people! He had a vague notion that he would be liable to arrest for having kept powder around. Besides, he did not want anybody to be hurt. So he groped his way into the attic63, and piling the shells in his arms carried them down and laid them under the front steps. Then he breathed easier.
He found that his care had been needless. The house was out of danger, and already the fire, in its march from shed to shed, had been met by the nozzle-men and stayed in its tracks. Two streams were playing on the barn, their water hissing64 among the red-hot embers. Other hose companies had arrived, and under the efforts the glare of a few moments before had sunk to a fitful glimmer65.
Mrs. Miller and Maggie turned from their labors66 at the sink to the gasoline stove and made a huge bucket of coffee. This they served to the chilled, tired members of the bucket brigade, who were wet with perspiration67 as well as with splashes from the pails.
Ned now found time to recognize in the throng68 of helpers and onlookers69 people from far and near. The whole town was there—and had come, as the funny costumes proved, in a great hurry.
“It’s too bad, Ned,” said Hal. “But I don’t believe that even if the hose companies had got here sooner they could have saved the barn. That hay made an awful blaze.”
“Why didn’t they come sooner?” demanded Ned.
“Why, they had the wrong signal,” explained Tom. “They went ’way off in North Beaufort, and then they saw the flames and turned ’round.”
“Didn’t you save a thing?” asked Hal.
“Oh, pshaw!” exclaimed the two boys, their tones expressing much more of sympathy than the mere words tell. Ned walked away, and they kindly72 let him alone.
By twos and threes the crowd thinned out. There was nothing now to see. Gradually, as the need for their streams ceased, the lines of hose were wound on their reels.
Darkness settled over the scene.
Before going to bed again the Millers had much to do. While they themselves, with other fire-fighters, had been busy in the rear of the house, a swarm73 of eager townsmen had been invading the front part, and lugging74 out everything movable upon which they might lay hands. Chairs, books, sofa, pictures, rugs,—all had been hurriedly borne across the street and piled in a heap.
Even carpets had been pulled from the floors, and bundled into the outer air.
On the top of the pile sat, as if on his own quarter-deck, Commodore Jones. The commodore might be styled as in undress uniform; slippers75, trousers, and a red bandanna76 to keep the night damp from creeping down the neck of his nightshirt forming his outer costume.
“Who is it?” asked Mr. Miller, peering up at him, through the dusk.
“Oh, it’s only Jones. I was kinder keepin’ an eye on these things o’ yourn,” wheezed77 the commodore, carefully descending78.
“Well, I’m sure we’re much obliged, commodore,” said Mr. Miller, knowing the voice.
“You see,” exclaimed the commodore, “I looked out o’ my winder, and I thought this whole end of town must be burnin’. An’ after I’d got started, I heared it was your barn an’ house, an’ I reckoned I’d come on an’ lend a hand. An’ bein’ as I can’t stand a wettin’ I thought I’d mount guard over your truck, here. I’ve been burned out, myself, an’ I know how more things are lost by bein’ stole an’ damaged than by the fire itself.”
“It wasn’t necessary, quite, to carry out so much,” observed Mr. Miller, surveying, as best he could, the heap of goods.
“They was a leetle premature79, that’s a fact,” agreed the commodore. “It’s a pity you ain’t goin’ to move; you’ve got a fine start at it.”
With the aid of the commodore and a few neighbors the Millers placed their household furnishings back under cover. Ned carried his cartridges indoors, again. Mrs. Miller declared that she could not sleep with her kitchen in such shape—the floor one big puddle80 and streaked81 with mud—and she and Maggie went at it with mop and broom. They not only cleaned the floor, but also the porch and the back stairs, which were wet from top to bottom with the overflow82 from the pails and pans.
This done, the Miller household retired83 to resume its broken slumbers84. But during the rest of the night Ned, for his part, slumbered85 only by snatches, now thinking that he smelled smoke from some fire anew, and now thinking that he heard Bob appealing to him. Several times he found his pillow wet with tears, despite his efforts to shut them back.
At last he gave way, and blubbered well in the dark, while he moaned: “Bob! Dear old Bob!”
Nevertheless, all the time in his breast was a faint hope that perhaps, by hook or crook86, Bob was living. It did not seem possible that he should be dead—gone forever.
However, in the morning the insurance men, poking87 among the ruins, found him. He was in the midst of the charred88 hay. The flames had scarcely touched him, and Mr. Miller said that a painless death by the thick smoke had come upon him in his burrow89 without his ever waking.
Ned was glad to believe it, and was happier. He took only one look at the still body of his faithful, loyal chum, and walked away across the desolated90 yard, scarred and marred91 by the midnight events. He noted92 naught93 of this desolation without, for his eyes were brimming, and within, around his heart, reigned94 a greater desolation.
Later, where the horse’s stall had been, were found four horseshoes—these, and nothing more. Yet the fate of Fanny appeared to Ned as nothing, beside the fate of Bob.
He went to school, as usual. Zu-zu came running up to him.
“Oh, Ned! Is Bob really dead?”
Ned nodded. Whereupon Zu-zu burst into tears and fled up the school steps, into the shelter of the hall.
Ned wished that for the moment he, too, were a girl, so that he might act as he felt.
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收听单词发音
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1
miller
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| n.磨坊主 | |
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slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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ablaze
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| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
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varnish
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| n.清漆；v.上清漆；粉饰 | |
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blistering
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| adj.酷热的；猛烈的；使起疱的；可恶的v.起水疱；起气泡；使受暴晒n.[涂料] 起泡 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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warping
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| n.翘面，扭曲，变形v.弄弯，变歪( warp的现在分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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ravaged
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| 毁坏( ravage的过去式和过去分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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queries
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| n.问题( query的名词复数 )；疑问；询问；问号v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的第三人称单数 )；询问 | |
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faucet
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| n.水龙头 | |
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scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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shingles
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| n.带状疱疹；（布满海边的）小圆石( shingle的名词复数 )；屋顶板；木瓦（板）；墙面板 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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faucets
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| n.水龙头( faucet的名词复数 ) | |
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pitchers
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| 大水罐( pitcher的名词复数 ) | |
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drenching
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| n.湿透v.使湿透( drench的现在分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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valiantly
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| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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trickle
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| vi.淌，滴，流出，慢慢移动，逐渐消散 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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singed
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| v.浅表烧焦( singe的过去式和过去分词 )；（毛发）燎，烧焦尖端[边儿] | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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46
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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49
millers
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| n.（尤指面粉厂的）厂主( miller的名词复数 )；磨房主；碾磨工；铣工 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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succor
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| n.援助，帮助；v.给予帮助 | |
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scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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deluge
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| n./vt.洪水，暴雨，使泛滥 | |
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62
cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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labors
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| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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onlookers
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| n.旁观者，观看者( onlooker的名词复数 ) | |
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condoled
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| v.表示同情，吊唁( condole的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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lugging
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| 超载运转能力 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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bandanna
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| n.大手帕 | |
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wheezed
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| v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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overflow
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| v.(使)外溢，(使)溢出；溢出，流出，漫出 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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slumbered
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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burrow
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| vt.挖掘(洞穴)；钻进；vi.挖洞；翻寻；n.地洞 | |
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desolated
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| adj.荒凉的，荒废的 | |
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marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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