the bed-rolls, tents, provisions, cooking
utensils, tools, and a chest of tobacco, clothes, and other minor
supplies. It was managed by Charlie and his two cookees by means of
pike-poles and a long sweep at either end. The pike-poles assured
progress when the current slacked; the sweeps kept her head-on when
drifting with the stream.

Charlie's temperament was pessimistic at best. When the wanigan was
to be moved, he rose fairly to the heights of what might be called
destructive prophecy.

The packing began before the men had finished breakfast. Shortly after
daylight the wanigan, pushed strongly from shore by the pike-poles,
was drifting toward the chute. When the heavy scow threatened to turn
side-on, the sweeps at either end churned the water frantically in an
endeavour to straighten her out. Sometimes, by a misunderstanding, they
worked against each other. Then Charlie, raging from one to the other of
his satellites, frothed and roared commands and vituperations. His voice
rose to a shriek. The cookees, bewildered by so much violence, lost
their heads completely. Then Charlie abruptly fell to an exaggerated
calm. He sat down amidships on a pile of bags, and gazed with
ostentatious indifference out over the pond. Finally, in a voice fallen
almost to a whisper, and with an elaborate politeness, Charlie proffered
a request that his assistants acquire the sense God gave a rooster.
Newmark, who had elected to accompany the wanigan on its voyage,
evidently found it vastly amusing, for his eyes twinkled behind his
glasses. As the wanigan neared the sluice through which it must shoot
the flood-water, the excitement mounted to fever pitch. The water boiled
under the strokes of the long steering oars. The air swirled with the
multitude and vigour of Charlie's commands. As many of the driving crew
as were within distance gathered to watch. It was a supreme moment. As
Newmark looked at the smooth rim of the water sucking into the chute, he
began to wonder why he had come.

However, the noble ship was pointed right at last, and caught the faster
water head-on. Even Charlie managed to look cheerful for an instant, and
to grin at his passenger as he wiped his forehead with a very old, red
handkerchief.

"All right now," he shouted.

Zeke and his mate took in the oars. The wanigan shot forward below the
gate--

WHACK! BUMP! BANG! and the scow stopped so suddenly that its four men
plunged forward in a miscellaneous heap, whi