Last week, Jason and his dad bought a new (used) tractor. It was an unprecedented event, since they bought red instead of green. Owen refused to ride in the International. He's been indoctrinated with all the John Deere merchandise.
It turned out Owen might have had some sort of premonition. Red decided it couldn't take the pressure of performing in a field where Green had been king.
Jason was bush-hogging cotton stalks. He smelled smoke, but didn't see any trash fires around. He got out of the tractor to perform a cursory check, and saw flames. So he threw the contents of his water jug on the fire--sort of the equivalent of spitting. Then he climbed back INTO the tractor to grab a rag to beat out the fire--probably sort of like waving at it. He briefly contemplated driving the tractor to a water source. Yes, with flames underneath it, burning next to the fuel tank. (It must have been the man in him. I would have been running for my life.) Then he dialed 911.
Thank God for insurance.