We were too late. The swamp was all in a blaze when we got to
the landing, and you might as well have thried to get to heaven by
passing through the other place."
This was the eloquent harangue with which the honest creature
informed me the next morning of the efforts he had made to save us,
and the interest he had felt in our critical situation. I felt
comforted for my past anxiety, by knowing that one human being,
however humble, had sympathised in our probable fate, while the
providential manner in which we had been rescued will ever remain
a theme of wonder and gratitude.
The next evening brought the return of my husband, who listened to
the tale of our escape with a pale and disturbed countenance; not a
little thankful to find his wife and children still in the land of
the living.
For a long time after the burning of that fallow, it haunted me in
my dreams. I would awake with a start, imagining myself fighting
with the flames, and endeavouring to carry my little children
through them to the top of the clearing, when invariably their
garments and my own took fire just as I was within reach of a
place of safety.
