In that instant Celie's
face disappeared. He sneezed again--and awoke.
In that moment his dazed senses adjusted themselves. The cabin was
full of smoke. It partly blinded him, but through it he could see
tongues of fire shooting toward the ceiling. He heard then the
crackling of burning pitch--a dull and consuming roar, and with a
stifled cry he leaped from his bunk and stood on his feet. Dazed
by the smoke and flame, he saw that there was not the hundredth
part of a second to lose. Shouting Celie's name he ran to her
door, where the fire was already beginning to shut him out. His
first cry had awakened her and she was facing the lurid glow of
the flame as he rushed in. Almost before she could comprehend what
was happening he had wrapped one of the heavy bear skins about her
and had swept her into his arms. With her face crushed against his
breast he lowered his head and dashed back into the fiery
holocaust of the outer room. The cabin, with its pitch-filled
logs, was like a box made of tinder, and a score of men could not
have beat out the fire that was raging now.
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