“O, I don’t know. I was afraid that this fire extended everywhere, like the great fire that once raged here.” “The great fire? O, no. Such a thing as that can only take place once in centuries. That was the result of a combination of circumstances so extraordinary, that it is not likely that they will ever occur again. And just now, such a fire as that is a simple impossibility.” “But this fire seems pretty bad,” said Bart, “and it’s certainly increasing.” “This fire? O, this is nothing,” said the priest. “In these woods, there is a fire somewhere every summer,--and it runs on till a rain shower comes. This is only a local affair, confined to this particular district. It may possibly extend for ten or twelve miles, and have a width of two or three miles. It is troublesome, and you perceive the heat in the air, and it sends out smoke for many miles; but there is nothing in it that is at all extraordinary. There is nothing in it that a man cannot escape from. It is not like the swift and hurricane speed of the great fire, that swept in one night through all this country, and made one vast waste of ashes and death before morning. O, no. As for your friend, he ought to be able to get along; and every brook that he comes to will give him fish to eat. It’s the greatest country for trout and salmon in the world. In fact, I don’t see the slightest cause for anxiety about him.” These words gave Bart a relief that was inexpressible, and he was now freed from the terrible anxiety that had so long devoured him. The opinion of the priest was of great value, for he, no doubt, knew perfectly well just what danger there might be. His estimation of the fire afforded still greater relief. Bart had feared that it was some universal conflagration; but it now turned out to be a local affair, so commonplace that no one here regarded it. “I think,” said the priest, “that we had better go back at once.” “Go back?” “Yes.” “Where?” “To Tracadie.” “But I thought we were going to search farther for Phil--to the north.” “So we are,” said the priest; “but we’ll have to go back. If we were to walk through the woods, we would only be losing time. Now, I propose to go back, and drive along the road to a place about fifteen miles away, where some men are already in the woods engaged in this search. We can either go there, or go farther on; in fact, it might be well to go as far as the Bay de Chaleur, and get people there to keep a lookout. But first, we must go back, and we can see what the prospects are.” They now retraced their steps in accordance with what the priest had said. It was a deep disappointment to Bart to find himself returning again without having accomplished anything; and in addition to this, he was very greatly troubled by the disappearance of Pat and Solomon. By the time they reached Tracadie it was evening, and as nothing more could be done that night, Bart once more took up his quarters for the night with the priest.