here, as well
as later, that the "terrors of the Saginaw" stayed with the drive to
its finish, and proved reliable and tractable in every particular. Orde
scattered them judiciously, so there was no friction with the local men.
The Rough Red he retained on the rear.

Here the breaking of the rollways had reached a stage more exciting both
to onlooker and participant than the mere opening of the river channel.
Huge stacks of logs piled sidewise to the bank lined the stream for
miles. When the lowermost log on the river side was teased and pried
out, the upper tiers were apt to cascade down with a roar, a crash, and
a splash. The man who had done the prying had to be very quick-eyed,
very cool, and very agile to avoid being buried under the tons of timber
that rushed down on him. Only the most reliable men were permitted at
this initial breaking down. Afterwards the crew rolled in what logs
remained.

The Rough Red's enormous strength, dare-devil spirit, and nimbleness of
body made him invaluable at this dangerous work. Orde, too, often took a
hand in some of the more ticklish situations. In old days, before he
had attained the position of responsibility that raised the value of his
time beyond manual work, he had been one of the best men on the river at
breaking bank rollways. A slim, graceful, handsome boy of twenty, known
as "Rollway Charlie," also distinguished himself by the quickness and
certainty of his work. Often the men standing near lost sight of him
entirely in the spray, the confusion, the blur of the breaking rollways,
until it seemed certain he must have perished. Nevertheless, always he
appeared at right or left, sometimes even on a log astream, nonchalant,
smiling, escaped easily from the destructive power he had loosed. Once
in the stream the logs ran their appointed course, watched by the men
who herded them on their way. And below, from the tributaries, from the
other rollways a never-ending procession of recruits joined this great
brown army on its way to the lake, until for miles and miles the river
was almost a solid mass of logs.

The crews on the various beats now had their hands full to keep the logs
running. The slightest check at any one point meant a jam, for there
was no way of stopping the unending procession. The logs behind
floated gently against the obstruction and came to rest. The brown mass
thickened. As far as the eye could reach the surface of the water was
concealed. And then, as