AT THE FOOT OF PASSACONAWAY . 267 
At the end of the intervale, instead of plung¬ 
ing into the woods where our barred owl lived, 
we turned southward towards the foot of Passa- 
conaway. The rough road led through the for¬ 
est to a saw-mill under the shoulder of the first 
ridge of the mountains. Downes Brook had 
been partially dammed to form a pond, upon 
which hundreds of logs lay awaiting their fate. 
At the foot of the dam stood the mill. Its 
lower story was an engine-room. A steam-en¬ 
gine of considerable power worked four saws, a 
planer, and an endless chain used to draw in 
logs from the ice. At the dam end these logs 
were being drawn in upon the floor, measured, 
and marked. Then they went to the first and 
largest saw, which cut off their slabs, reduced 
them to boards or planks, and sent them along 
to the second saw to have their ends squared. 
From the second saw they went to the third, 
where their sides were made equal, and hence 
through the planer, out at the lower end of the 
mill, down a chute to a platform where they 
were piled, ready to be hauled away. The 
fourth saw was used to cut the slabs and edge- 
cuttings into the right lengths for fuel; for not 
only the engine demon in the under story fed 
on wood, but all the people in the intervale 
burned slabs. About twelve men were em¬ 
ployed in the upper part of the mill, some 
