dy
to pull it up when signaled. Before and beneath him raged the
cataract. We saw him raise his axe and strike it into the log. The
bright steel flashed in the narrow chasm. At the fourth stroke the
great log cracked. He threw the axe and clutched the basket. A mighty
crash rang up. The jam had started--was moving--going down--madly
splintering--thundering into the glut-hole! The wet splinters all
along the rapids went up a hundred feet in air. On both sides the
gangs were running backward, hoisting the "basket." It rose twenty
feet a second! A hundred and fifty strong men pulled with might and
main! As he rose he waved his hand to us.

Ah, God! we were too slow! It was all done in a trice. One great
stick, ending over like a fagot, barely missed the basket. Another
longer log, whirling up, struck the warp farther out, and hurled him
down with it! The cable was torn from our hands! Gone like a flash,
into the gulf below! From the one great rough human heart on either
bank a groan of pity blended with the roar. "Too d----n bad!" they
cried out, in all sincerity, and stood staring.

Then all eyes turned toward the poor fellow's mother. She had thrown
up her hands when the timber swept him down, as if to shut out the
sight, then dropped them on a sudden, with a moan.

"Catch her!" someone shouted. Half-a-dozen standing nearest sprang
forward--for she was standing on the very verge of the rocks. Her eyes
had fallen on old man Villate. They were like the eyes of one in some
mortal agony. The blotched and bloated old rum-butt turned his face
aside and downward, and thrust out his hands as if to fight off flame.
For their lives the men durst not lay hold of her. She seemed to waver
in soul betwixt grief and fury.

A moment after, the men gave a loud shout! She was gone from where she
had stood, and the echo of a smothered shriek--tribute of a woman's
heart to death--came to our ears. We sprang to look over. There was a
glimpse of the bright shawl whirled amid the foam.

"Did she fall?" some one cried out.

"Throwed herself down!" said those who saw it.

We never found trace of either of them. But the jam went out, to the
last log. Two hours later the gangs were following the drive down the
stream--on to Montreal! But the men had turned sullen. Scarce a laugh
or a cheery shout was heard for three days.

MANMAT'HA.

BY CHARLES DE KAY.

_Atlantic Monthly, February, 1876._

I.

One