toward the harvest pile. Wondering* for which 

 house these logs were intended, I followed, hop- 

 ing to trace and trail them to the house, or find 

 them en route. From the spot where they were 

 cut, they had evidently been rolled down a 

 steep, grassy seventy-foot slope, at the bottom 

 of this dragged an equal distance over a level 

 stretch among some lodge-pole pines, and then 

 pushed or dragged along a narrow runway that 

 had been cut through a rank growth of willows. 

 Once through the willows, they were pushed 

 into the uppermost pond. They were taken 

 across this, forced over the dam on the opposite 

 side, and shot down a slide into the pond which 

 contained the smaller house. Only forty-eight 

 hours before, the little logs which I was follow- 

 ing were in a tree, and now I expected to find 

 them by this house. It was good work to have 

 got them here so quickly, I thought. But no logs 

 could be found by the house or in the pond ! The 

 folks at this place had not yet laid up anything 

 for winter. The logs must have gone farther. 



On the opposite side of this pond I found 

 where the logs had been dragged across the 



55 



