The Legend of Miner's Creek Read Free

trees, we’ve got big trouble.”
    Again, thunder rumbled in the distance. Nancy looked up at the clouds, remembering that they couldn’t count on the storm for rain.
    Dust billowed up from the van as Rachel and Bessdrove away. Charlie raced into the tall grass of the meadow, with George and Nancy close behind.
    â€œBe careful of the creek!” Charlie shouted as Nancy came up beside him. “It’s just ahead of you.”
    His cry was just in time to save Nancy from slipping into the deep water. The tall grass had hidden the creek bank from view.
    Charlie ran downstream to shallower water and waded quickly across. Nancy and George followed him, barely caring that their shoes were soaked in the process. On the far bank Nancy could hear the crackle of the fire as the wind whipped it through the grass. She let Charlie stay in the lead as they raced alongside the fire, down the meadow. The wind was at their backs, pushing the flames through dried grass and wildflowers. Nancy realized they would have to outrun the blaze to stop it. Once out in front they could use their shovels to build a fire line of dirt that the flames could not cross—if they were lucky.
    Nancy was surprised at how quickly the fire was moving. She ran her fastest through the uneven ground of the meadow. Charlie was still in front of her, his surefootedness making up for his age as they ran.
    â€œCome on, we don’t have much time,” Charlie urged as he rounded the front edge of the fire. “Dig up the grass,” he instructed the girls.
    Nancy and George went to work, pushing their shovels into the dry earth and turning over the meadow grass.
    Behind them the forest trees swayed in the wind. The huge evergreens that had stood undisturbed for more than a hundred years now depended entirely on Charlie, Nancy, and George for their safety.
    â€œHow’d this happen?” A new and demanding voice came from the direction of the woods. Nancy turned quickly to see a stocky, older woman behind her pitch in with the shoveling. The woman’s short hair was a tousled mixture of brown and gray, and she wore a white T-shirt under blue striped overalls. Nancy had been so intent on throwing dirt that she hadn’t seen the newcomer approach, carrying her own shovel.
    â€œMaddie Emerson,” Charlie called without missing a shovel beat. “Glad you showed up. We can use all the help we can get.”
    â€œI was on my way home. How’d this start?” the woman asked again.
    â€œDon’t know. Lightning, I guess,” Charlie told her. Then with a few quick directions he split the group into pairs. He and George worked side by side, making a furrow two shovels wide through the meadow. Nancy and Maddie moved side by side in the opposite direction. By the time they had dug a line fifty feet long, Nancy was near exhaustion. The fire was drawing closer. The smoke was so thick, Nancy couldn’t see Charlie and George at the other end of the fire line. Nancy’s back was aching from the hard work, but she knew she couldn’t stop digging.
    Suddenly Maddie grabbed her roughly by the arm and jerked her aside. Nancy took two flying steps and fell sprawling into the meadow, just as the fire rushed through the grass behind her and stopped at the line of dirt they had just dug.
    â€œGot no sense, young lady?” Maddie said gruffly. “You must be one of those city folks. Don’t know when to get out from in front of a fire.”
    â€œI was trying to finish the line,” Nancy said, scrambling to her feet. She was close enough to see the lines in the older woman’s leathery skin.
    â€œWell, it’s as done as it’s going to get,” Maddie told her. She spoke quietly as she turned to watch the blaze, and the harshness had left her voice. “Now it will either hold or it won’t.”
    Nancy watched as the flames gathered themselves behind the line. The fire appeared to be