Fire: Chicago 1871 by Kathleen Duey Page B

gave it enough rein to canter up the slope. Julie loosened her arms around Nate’s waist and tried to let the rhythm of the horse’s gait take over, the way her uncle had taught her. It was hard; she was so tired and so scared that every muscle in her body felt tightly strung.
    Nate rode north on Michigan Avenue, and Julie could tell he was fighting to slow the gelding down. It danced sideways on the plank-covered roadway, tossing its mane, very nearly knocking down a woman with a baby in her arms. The woman’s husband shouted a warning, then an insult as Nate guided the gelding past them.
    Julie leaned to look past Nate and almost cried out. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest. The flames were ahead of them as well as behind. Lake Park was jammed with people, some of them standing knee-deep in Lake Michigan. As Nate headed north, as fast as the crawling traffic would allow, Julie saw a number of wagons that had been driven straight into the shallows. The horses stood belly deep in the water; the drivers’ legs were submerged. The vicious heat made Julie stare, entranced, at the people who had gone into the water. At least they were safe from the fire.
    The gelding balked suddenly, sidling backward, drawing curses and shouts from people behind them. Nate worked to straighten the horse out, and Julie leaned to see what was wrong.
    Just in front of the gelding, a man had collapsed. Two women were struggling to lift him. Nate eased the nervous gelding to one side, skirting them. People stepped over the man, unable to make the crowd on either side give them room enough to go around. Julie looked back, but the crowd had closed and she couldn’t see anything.
    Facing forward again, Julie stretched up andfound she could just peek over Nate’s shoulder. There was a dark corridor to the east, even though the flames straight ahead of them were spreading, the wind continuing its lashing gusts. The street was less crowded here, and Julie was glad when Nate let the gelding canter again. Half a block farther on, he had to rein in.
    The shoreline of the lake was lined with people and their belongings, piled close to the water’s edge. Julie saw a man digging madly in the sand. Astonished, she saw him positioning two small children in the hole. Was he going to bury them to protect them from the heat? She twisted in the saddle to try to see what he was doing. At her last glimpse he was pitching sand back into the hole.
    â€œHang on!” Nate yelled over his shoulder.
    Julie tightened her grip on his waist just as the horse bolted forward. At first, she thought something had scared it, but then she realized that Nate was digging his heels into the horse’s sides. As the gelding pounded along the plank-covered street, Julie managed to get a glimpse over Nate’s shoulder. The street ahead of them was empty—but it was bordered on both sides by fire.
    As they got closer to the leaping flames, the gelding stiffened its strides, raising its head and slowing down. Nate drummed at the horse’s ribs and flanks with his heels, shouting encouragement.
    Julie stared at the tunnel of fire they were about to enter. The flames were so close here, arcing almost all the way over the street. The burning buildings were sagging beneath the weight of their brick and stone facades. The gelding slowed a little more, and Julie heard Nate’s voice rise to a panic pitch. She knew why. If the gelding balked here, they would have little chance of survival. She loosened one hand from around Nate’s waist and slipped her father’s canteen strap from her shoulder.
    Then, careful of her balance, Julie let go with her other hand. Holding the canteen itself close to her body, she gripped the long strap in her right hand. Suddenly she shrieked like a dime novel Indian on the warpath and whipped at the horse’s flanks, lashing it with the long leather strap. Startled, the gelding leaped forward, lunging