.

A shallow, undulating trough scored the hillside, crossed at short
intervals by small logs, split up the middle and laid with their round
sides on top. It looked something like a switchback railway, only that
while the incline varied, all the undulations ran down hill. A few logs
rested insecurely on the top skids, and the men put the one Festing had
brought below the rest. Then they threw down their poles and Festing
looked about.

Water filled the hollows in the wavy line of skids, which vanished at
the edge of a steeper dip and reappeared below, to plunge out of sight
again. Its end was banked up with wet gravel near the track. Festing
could not see the track, but the opposite side of the river was visible,
with the island, near which two wire-ropes skimmed the surface of the
flood. A man stood on the skids about half way down and presently waved
his arm.

"Watch out below!" he shouted and signed to Festing. "All clear! You can
start her off."

Festing seized a handspike and the skids groaned as the big log began
to move. The men helped and sprang back as it gathered speed. Water flew
up, the bark tore off in crumpled flakes, and the wet timber smoked. The
other logs were smaller and easier launched, but they did not gain the
momentum of the first, which plunged furiously down hill and flung up
its thin end as it leaped over the edge of the dip.

"She's surely hitting up the pace," one of the men remarked.

"The mud is greasing the skids," said Festing, who began to run down the
incline when the man below shouted.

Two of the others followed, but stopped at the top of the last pitch,
which ended in the bank of gravel close above the track. The logs,
spread out at intervals, rushed down, rising and falling on the uneven
skids. Showers of mud and water marked their progress; there was a crash
as a smashed skid was flung into the air, and a roar when the leading
mass plowed through fallen gravel. Stones shot out and Festing saw smoke
and sparks, but the logs rushed on, and he wondered anxiously whether
the bank would stop them. So far, it had served its purpose, but he was
doubtful about it now, and hoped there was nobody on the track beneath.

The big log reached the bank and ran half way up the short incline
before its speed slackened much. Festing held his breath as he watched,
for some gravel cars had come down the track, and he could not tell
where they were. The log was going slower, but he doubted if