LAKING 



635 



Logs Going Through a Dam 



one of the trees with it down the 

 shore. 



"Up with the anchors and cut loose 

 the line," shouted the Captain, now 

 thoroughly aroused, and an ax glinted 

 over the stern post and the hawser 

 whipped the water like a bow string. 

 By good luck another promontory 

 jutted out below, the last point of 

 contact between ourselves and the 

 lake, and all hope now lay in our 

 reserve sticks recovered from the mouth 

 of the river. The anchors came up 

 dripping black ooze, and we made 

 for the point below. Here a diagonal 

 line could be run outward from a jutting 

 point, and wedge the impact of the logs 

 against the shore itself. Not a moment's 

 delay or the boom would be upon us, 



and the Captain's orders were as 

 vigorous as they were picturesque. 

 Again, at the call of the boatswain, the 

 men sprang to the oars and drove the 

 bateau full up the shore in their eager- 

 ness and ran the lines into the woods. 

 Anxious moments passed until the 

 Captain saw with relief the boatswain 

 wave his hands on the shore, and turn- 

 ing the wheel he rang the fast bell 

 ahead and steered at full speed toward 

 the oncoming mass, and swung the 

 boat around the outer edge. Guided 

 by the boom the moving field wedged 

 closer and closer in on the shore, and 

 our last try and hope hung in the 

 balance. Slowly the logs settled in 

 like a great ice pack, but the pressure 

 this time was against the shore, and 



