 Far down the hillside, hidden by smoke and battered by the hot winds that follow the course of the fire, the warden's patrol plane, a helicopter, hovers a few feet above the ground as he calls through the hatchway. Come on, you boys. Come on up that roof ladder. All right. Quick, Jimmy. Hold the ladder steady. Give me a hand. All right. Up you come, boy. Now the other one. Come on, Pete. I'll give you a hand. Take it fast, Pete. Call him into the plane, Jimmy. All right.