632 



AMERICAN FORESTRY 



Winding in* the Headworks 



Our race up the lake to catch the 

 escaping logs had been nearly completed 

 and the Captain, to herald our coming, 

 had wakened the slumbrous hills with a 

 hoarse whistle, when the rising mists 

 disclosed a sight that brought every 

 man to the upper deck, to strain his 



eyes across the waters. The blue surface 

 was now ruffling with the rising breeze, 

 and indistinct upon the horizon line 

 could be seen dim specks of black 

 rising and falling in clusters that seemed 

 to concentrate around one point. Our 

 rescue was too late, for the swollen 



Winding in a Boom by Hand 



