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Updated: June 20, 2025
"I wish we had engines and hose-reels like the Giant fire-men used when the barn was on fire," sighed Silver Ears. Uncle Squeaky ran here, there, and everywhere; filling pails, pouring water, beating burning bushes with Mother Graymouse's best broom, and shouting excited orders to the crowd of scared woodland folk. The fire crept nearer to Wild Rose Cottage. "It will be a shame if Dr.
Old Marrow-Bone, deserted and far behind, was tottering silently along in his handicapped race with death. Sometimes he almost fell, and once he did fall; but no more arrows were coming. He scrambled weakly to his feet. Age burdened him heavily, but he did not want to die. The three Fire-Men, who were now running forward from their forest ambush, could easily have got him, but they did not try.
She was severely hurt, for she made no effort to get away. They gathered about her and laughed at her even as Lop-Ear and I had laughed at the old Tree-Man. And even as we had poked him with twigs and sticks, so did the Fire-Men with Red-Eye's wife. They poked her with the ends of their bows, and prodded her in the ribs. But she was poor fun. She would not fight.
We, too, were Fire-Men, we thought, as we danced there, white gnomes in the conflagration. The dried grass and underbrush caught fire, but we did not notice it. Suddenly a great tree on the edge of the open space burst into flames. We looked at it with startled eyes. The heat of it drove us back. Another tree caught, and another, and then half a dozen. We were frightened.
These were struggling and floundering, and one was trying to crawl away. But we fixed them. By this time we males were roaring with rage, and we rained rocks upon the three men that were down. Several of the Fire-Men returned to drag them into safety, but our rocks drove the rescuers back. The Fire People became enraged. Also, they became cautious.
And I am afraid that at the sight I did a bit of joyous teetering. Before I leave this portion of my narrative, I must tell of Red-Eye. He was caught with his wife in a tree down by the blueberry swamp. The Swift One and I stopped long enough in our flight to see. The Fire-Men were too intent upon their work to notice us, and, furthermore, we were well screened by the thicket in which we crouched.
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