feet in
height. The bed of the stream itself was filled with them for a mile,
save in a narrow channel left down through the middle to allow for some
flow of water; the banks were piled with them, side on, ready to roll
down at the urging of the men.

First of all, the entire crew set itself, by means of its peavies, to
rolling the lower logs into the current, where they were rapidly borne
away. As the waters were now at flood, this was a quick and easy labour.
Occasionally some tiers would be stuck together by ice, in which case
considerable prying and heaving was necessary in order to crack them
apart. But forty men, all busily at work, soon had the river full. Orde
detailed some six or eight to drop below in order that the river might
run clear to the next section, where the next crew would take up the
task. These men, quite simply, walked to the edges of the rollway,
rolled a log apiece into the water, stepped aboard, leaned against their
peavies, and were swept away by the swift current. The logs on which
they stood whirled in the eddies, caromed against other timbers,
slackened speed, shot away; never did the riders alter their poses of
easy equilibrium. From time to time one propelled his craft ashore
by hooking to and pushing against other logs. There he stood on some
prominent point, leaning his chin contemplatively against the thick
shaft of his peavy, watching the endless procession of the logs drifting
by. Apparently he was idle, but in reality his eyes missed no shift of
the ordered ranks. When a slight hitch or pause, a subtle change in the
pattern of the brown carpet caught his attention, he sprang into life.
Balancing his peavy across his body, he made his way by short dashes
to the point of threatened congestion. There, working vigorously, swept
down stream with the mass, he pulled, hauled, and heaved, forcing the
heavy, reluctant timbers from the cohesion that threatened trouble
later. Oblivious to his surroundings, he wrenched and pried desperately.
The banks of the river drifted by. Point succeeded point, as though
withdrawn up stream by some invisible manipulator. The river appeared
stationary, the banks in motion. Finally he heard at his elbow the voice
of the man stationed below him, who had run out from his own point.

"Hullo, Bill," he replied to this man, "you old slough hog! Tie into
this this!"

"All the time!" agreed Bill cheerfully.

In a few moments the danger was averted, the logs ra