A surge of relief ran through Skye as they reached the river and lunged into the water. At first, she and Hannah waded out only a few feet, but they were forced further by the burning debris blowing in the air around them.
Everywhere they looked, the faces around them were staring back toward Newcastle. Skye thought that was only natural as she and Hannah also turned to face their town. Who would do otherwise? Their homes, outbuildings, livestock, provisions for the winter, and indeed, everything on which their survival depended, lay behind them.
Newcastle! Their beautiful town, nestled snugly between the river and the nearby forests, had been a thriving community. Its inhabitants had rejoiced in the growing prosperity and had looked with satisfaction on the well-stocked warehouses on land and, on water, the fleet loaded with the lumber that was the mainstay of their existence.
But now, the sight that met them bore no resemblance to their peaceful, thriving town. In the space of only minutes their happy community had been turned into a scene so horrifying they could barely take it in.
As far as the eye could see, a moving wall of flame rolled and boiled, burying everything in its path. The wind howled and roared, filling the air with pieces of flaming buildings, branches, and even whole trees that had been ripped from the earth by its mighty force. Chunks of burning wreckage, large and small, were thrown about as easily as a child might toss a pair of jacks.
Almost at once prayers began to rise from the land and from the water in Newcastle, Douglastown, and every settled area that found itself in the path of the great fire. Prayers and wails and pleas poured forth. They begged God for rain, for mercy, for light.
But most of all, they prayed for deliverance.
There were those whose shouts proclaimed that this was the great judgement, the time of tribulation foretold in scripture, and Skye thought it quite possible they were right. In the fear, panic, and desolation of that dreadful night, prayers of repentance and conversion joined those that cried out to God for rescue.
As she took in the terrible scenes around her, Skye noticed Hannah’s lips moving silently as they stood in the water. She wondered bitterly whether her petition included Logan and Tavish, or only Stewart. This unfair thought was born of shame, for she had almost forgotten to ask deliverance for her stepbrother when she herself had bowed her head a moment earlier.
It was this omission that nudged her memory further, and she strained to see if she could find any sign of Abby in the scattered assembly of man and beast now taking refuge in the river.
It seemed that Hannah had thought of the girl in the same instance, for she called out Abby’s name several times. Her effort was as useless in the din as the many other voices that rang out calling for loved ones — parent for child, child for parent, and every other combination of kin and friend.
The noise was frightful! Worst of all were the tortured screams and cries — almost lost in the deafening roar of the fire — of men, women, and children who had not made it to safety. Along with the thunderous splitting and crashing of trees and buildings came the groans and bellows of the many animals that had not managed to escape the fire.
Other animals, both domestic and wild, had reached the river before the flames overtook them, and it was an odd sight to find them gathered like frightened comrades. Skye stared, barely comprehending what she was looking at, when she saw a bear standing peacefully in the midst of a group of cows. The strange collection of animals added a cacophony of sounds to the commotion.
Heat and flames were everywhere and the very river itself seemed in danger of igniting as the water near the edge grew ever hotter, foaming madly, joining its own voice to the raging inferno.
Skye tried to block out the sights and sounds, but there was no way to escape the assault on her senses. Her eyes stung, her throat burned, and she laboured for oxygen through the thick cloud of smoke and ash that surrounded her.
A few yards away, a young mother holding a baby to her bosom screamed as a burning ember struck the child and ignited its nightdress. The mother ducked into the water to extinguish the flame and emerged with the baby wailing in pain.
It was in this nightmare of chaos and horror that Hannah felt the first contraction: a sudden, wrenching pain that told her labour had begun. Fear paralysed her for a moment, but the instinct to protect her child soon conquered it.
“Come,” she said, taking Skye’s hand when she realized she must act as quickly as possible. She tugged her stepdaughter toward a larger group gathered nearby, hoping that someone there could help.
When they reached the others, Hannah asked several of the ladies if there might be a midwife among them. Her question was passed from person to person until one gentleman, a Mr. Davidson, heard of her plight and hastened to help.
“Come with me, madam,” he hollered above the bedlam when he reached her side. “There are a number of rafts here. We will entreat someone to yield place enough for you.”
As Hannah followed the good man, he asked those they passed if any could help with the birthing of a newborn. While no midwife could be found, a matronly woman offered to help as much as she was able, and joined the little group.
They reached the first raft shortly, but it held a young mother with three children, all four suffering with fever, and several others who had received burns and other injuries.
The second raft was even less hopeful, and the third was more submerged than floating, so overloaded was it with the wounded and ill.
But then they came to the fourth, and Davidson was outraged to discover an able-bodied man among its passengers.
“What manner of man are you?” he demanded, taking hold of the cowering fellow’s arm. “You’ll yield your cowardly perch to this woman at once.”
“But I can’t swim!” the man cried, clinging to the rough wood.
“Swim or not, he can steal a’right,” came an old woman’s voice nearby. “More beast than man, he is! This black-hearted monster robbed me — his own mother-in-law — of fifty pounds ... thinking, no doubt, that I’d not make it to safety.”
“Swim or sink, you devil, it’s all the same to me,” roared Davidson. With that, he gave a mighty pull, dislodging the whimpering scoundrel and flinging him into the water. The man thrashed about and it seemed likely he would indeed drown until Davidson grasped his hair and yanked him upright.
“You’ll not drown in water that comes to your chest unless you’re a bigger fool than I’ve yet seen,” he told the sputtering fellow. “Anyway, better to see you tried for your crime than escape so easily as that.”
Then, paying no further attention to the coward, he helped Hannah onto the raft. The contractions were coming steadily and with surprising speed by then, brought on by the shock and upheaval of the last hours. Hannah let herself sink into the pain, almost welcoming the way it drew her into it — and away from the horror around her.
Skye stood a short distance away, watching her stepmother and hearing her cries without really taking any of it in. A heavy numbness had crept into her and she felt as though something had frozen her very heart.
And then she heard her name! Turning toward the joyful cry she saw her father pushing toward her, his face twisted with emotion.
“Thanks be to God!” he said as he reached her. He threw his arms around her and drew her to him. Something broke inside her. Tears came, along with great shuddering sobs, and it was only with difficulty that she was able to compose herself enough to answer his questions about Hannah.
When he learned of his wife’s situation, Logan hastened to her side, taking Skye with him. It seemed that, even in the throes of a contraction, Hannah’s face softened just a little with relief.
“The boys?” she gasped when she could speak again.
“They are with you?”
“I was well on my way home when the fire struck,” he told her, careful to keep his voice even. “The boys had stayed behind with Collin, as planned earlier. But don’t worry, we’ll find them as soon as we’re able to return to land.”
Shooed off then by the woman tending to Hannah, Logan and Skye moved back to the group standing in the water. Some had made off for the far shore, determined to swim across the river where it seemed the fire had failed to take hold. Most, however, remained behind and waited. Man and beast, they waited together.
On and on the wind and fire continued their deafening ruin. And yet, during that night of destruction and death, another sound was heard. That sound — rising like a promise — was the bleating cries of newborn babies.* Hannah’s child was but one of these — a daughter, born near dawn, and swaddled in a wet scarf offered by one of the ladies.
The child was small, but her lusty cry suggested she was healthy enough. Hannah remained on the raft with her new daughter while Logan and Skye returned and stood at her side in the water as the fire blazed on.
The minutes of the night crept by while the townspeople converged, fighting hunger and exhaustion. Through the longest hours of their lives, they waited. And as they waited, they wept and prayed. And then, at last, their prayers were answered. The storm clouds broke and rain fell, pouring down in torrents on the burning communities.
Even so, the fire was not easily beaten and it was not until the next day that they were able to emerge from the river, wet, weary, and starving.
They moved slowly, dragging themselves onto the black banks, wading through soot and ash to their knees. Numb with shock and fatigue, they could not yet absorb the fact that their world had been wiped out in the space of a single night.
It would be days, weeks, even months before their losses were defined and measured. Until then, they felt no more than the weight of each moment as it crept by.