THE ENGINEER'S ASSISTANTS
ONE day, soon after Babs' adventure in the woods, Mr. Starr received a letter from a large machine company at Grand Forks. He read it aloud at the dinner table, thereby making all of the timber men very happy.
"The skidder is on the road, boys," said Mr. Starr.
"She is!"
"When will she git here?"
"Mos' time—we are beginnin' to need her!"
These and many other exclamations greeted his news, and Mr. Starr looked at the date of the postmark to figure out the time they might expect the skidder to arrive at camp.
"The roads are frozen fine and hard now, and there hasn't been any snow except a few flakes now and then, so she ought to get here by tomorrow, I should think," replied Mr. Starr.
"It'll begin to look as if we were workin' some, when the logs begin to move out toward the river," declared the foreman.
"She'll have some logs to haul!" said Mr. Latimer, pleasing the men by the suggested praise of their work.
"What's a skidder, Daddum?" asked Dot.
"Why do you call it a she?" added Don.
While many who heard Don's question, laughed, Mr. Starr tried to explain to the twins what a skidder was and what use it was.
"Then the engineer has to drive her, eh?" asked Don, eagerly looking over at Jim.
"Yes, he has to steer her, watch over her steam works, and keep her from going into the crooked paths of evil," laughed Mr. Latimer.
"She sure does get into evil ways, sometimes," added Jim, laughingly.
"Why, I saw one of 'em once, that was reely possessed with a contrary spirit. She never would go the road she was shown, but allus went down a side track as like a horse that shies as anything I ever saw," exclaimed Bill.
"Ah, but Bill, yeh know why she shied that way!" said Jerry. "She was put together skew-geed an' one side of her was so out of geer that she couldn't run straight even on a macadam road."
"There's everything in puttin' the parts together right, Mr. Starr. Is the fact'ry goin' to send a man down to show us how to gear her up and run her?" asked Jim.
"Yes, indeed. We wouldn't take any chances with such an expensive machine unless a machinist came along to show us what to do in case of emergency."
The next day a caravan hove into sight coming slowly along the new road leading in from the old trail. As the first team came to the road broken out from the timber to the river, some of the lumbermen spied it. They shouted and soon every man that could get away from his job gathered about the interesting machinery. There were four trucks and four horses to each truck. The machinists who came from Grand Forks to put the different parts of the skidder together, jumped down from the driver's seats and shook hands with the bosses.
"Where are you goin' to run her?" asked one of the men of Mr. Latimer.
"We'll begin down near the river, and clear all of that land first; that will give us open space to pile our logs along the waterfront and at the same time pack the road down harder and harder every trip the teamsters make," said Mr. Latimer.
So, the heavy trucks were taken in upon the new road broken out between the dense pine trees and, after several miles on this road, a halt was called. A small clearing had been made by cutting down all of the timber. Here the skidder would find space in which to swing her great arms and lift the immense trunks from their resting place over to the low sledge waiting to receive them.
It took all of that day and the greater part of the next to fit the machine up for work. The horses of the party were cared for by the men but extra bunks there were none, for visitors were not expected, so the men had to sleep upon the floors of the offices and school-room. Being city men, it was rather interesting to sleep upon a heap of fresh hemlock boughs and wash in a shed where a long row of basins and towels were provided for the men. But the few days braced them up wonderfully, and they always delighted in telling of the camp where the cook prepared fine meals, and the system and orderliness of the timber men were so good that ladies and children mingled with them as freely as if they were the sons of clergymen. As timber men had the reputation of being everything coarse and evil, this story gave an entirely new view of them.
As soon as the parts were together, the experts tried the machine. She soon had steam up in her boilers and, at the signal, one of the men threw out her tackle and a huge pine trunk was lifted as lightly as a feather and carried over and laid parallel with the roadside.
The men stood about in a circle admiring the wonderful machine that seemed almost human in its methods of work; the long arms that reached out in the direction of the fallen tree, the fingers that opened to grip the trunk, the graceful swing of the arm as it carried the log exactly where it was wanted and then opened its hand again to give up the grasp the fingers had on their burden.
"If you had your sledge here by the roadside we could load up a pile in no time and the men could cart them to the river," said one of the experts to Mr. Latimer.
"I figured on that and told several teamsters with sleds to come with us," replied Mr. Latimer.
"She makes the work jump along all right!" ventured the foreman, greatly pleased with the headway he could make.
The machinists remained all that day to watch the men work with "Jumpin' Jane" as she had been called, and, the following morning, left the camp to return to the city.
The work of cutting, loading and hauling logs went forward with tremendous speed after Jumpin' Jane arrived.
After a week's work the logs began to bank up along the river's edge, while the clearing about the Jumpin' Jane grew into a wide area.
The ladies and children at camp heard stories every night of the experiences of the day and felt sorry that they could not witness some of the adventures. Finally, Mrs. Latimer spoke:
"If it is a fine day tomorrow, why can't we come down to the cutting and see Jumpin' Jane work? We want to see everything worth while."
The next day was cold and clear and the children were bundled up well, while the ladies muffled themselves to the ears. Mike was included in the party, and, as usual, had charge of Babs.
The men knew there was to be an observation party, so had work planned that would show off the spectacular part of lumber cutting.
"Ho, there, Jim, can we come up on Jumpin' Jane and help you?" called Don, when he saw his old friend fingering the valves and levers of the engine.
"Pretty soon, mebbe. It's all up to your ma," said Jim.
"Not now, Don; wait until we see how it works," replied Mrs. Starr, catching hold of Don's hand to keep him beside her.
Meantime, the timber men had been running a huge saw through a giant pine tree until the foreman shouted "All Back!"
Instantly, everyone ran to safety, except the man who fastened the "clutch" of the Jumpin' Jane into the trunk of the tree. Then he too ran back to join his associates.
The foreman gave the signal, Jumpin' Jane gave a little wrench, and lo! the king of the forest started to lower his head. With a crash and a dragging off of all the branches impeding its descent, the pine measured its enormous length along the cleared ground. No sooner was it down than a dozen men jumped over and lopped off boughs until it looked like a telegraph pole. Another signal was given to Jim, and he pushed a lever that governed the huge steel arm of the machine. This arm swung over toward the pine and whirled out a cable with the hooks wide open ready to clasp about the tree. A man stood by and as soon as the hooks descended he guided them about the trunk and locked them. A signal, and Jim pushed upon another lever that brought the steel arm back to first position, dangling the immense pine over the flat sledge as if it were a tooth-pick. A man was waiting to use his cant-hook to steady the log at one end while the cable deposited its freight lengthwise on the floor of the sledge. Before the steel arm of Jumpin' Jane could be signalled for another trip, another huge tree had been sawed through and awaited its downfall.
Don and Dot were so excited over Jumpin' Jane that they could not keep their eyes from her. After constant coaxing, they succeeded in gaining unwilling permission to climb up to the engineer's caboose and watch Jim work.
Jim managed to show them the different levers and valves during the intervals between loading and lifting. The twins were completely fascinated by the machine and asked many pertinent questions that Jim delighted in answering. If Jim had known the twins better, or had spent the summer with them on the ranch in Texas, he would not have explained so minutely how the engine worked. But he thought they craved knowledge, and he told them all he could.
After witnessing all of the branches of the work, the visiting party started back but Don and Dot looked behind, wistfully, many times before the trees hid the Jumpin' Jane from their view.
The men worked late that night as the following day would be Sunday when they could rest. Jim wondered what would be best to do—bank up the fires in Jumpin' Jane or let them die out and build fresh ones on Monday morning. Deciding to act upon the latter plan, he saw that everything about the great truck and engine was in perfect order, then ran after the men who had started for the clearing.
"The first thing Monday morning, we must have Jane hoist some of those small trees out of our way. They have been cluttering the work all afternoon, but I was so anxious to get those big trees down on the river crib that the little ones just had to lay there and wait a turn," said Mr. Latimer, as they reached camp.
Now, Don and Dot had plotted all afternoon just what they could do if they had an opportunity to run Jumpin' Jane. They overheard Mr. Latimer's sentence as he passed the little ice-puddle where the twins were sliding, and they looked at each other knowingly.
That night, just before the children were sent to bed, Don and Dot crept to the Cookee's bunk and asked for some bread and butter. The twins were great favorites with Cookee, so he grunted as he rose from his chair and went to the shed where he kept his stock.
"Oh, Cookee, those are nice apples!" hinted Don.
"Want some?" laughed the man, handing an apple to each child.
"An' I love crackers, too," added Dot, seeing a can of graham crackers standing upon the shelf.
"Here, now, take this sandwich, an' I'll give ye each a cracker," said the Cookee, handing a thick double slice of bread and jam to the children. Then taking out a handful of crackers, he gave them to the eager hands that were outstretched.
"Whist, now! run off to bed wid ye," laughed he, watching the twins skip across the clearing toward their own bunk.
As the twins were afraid that Lavinia might hear them talk inside, they whispered before they entered the bunk. Don placed a sandwich in each deep pocket of his mackinaw coat, and pushed an apple on top of each. The crackers were too tempting to keep, so they were gradually nibbled until all disappeared. The twins then stole softly to bed, to wait until everyone was asleep.
Dot did her very best to remain awake, but her eyes refused to obey orders and soon she was fast asleep. Not so, Don. He made up his mind to keep awake and, when his eyelids started to drop over his eyes in sleep, he pinched himself. Finding that this plan soon lost its effect, he sat bolt upright in bed until he heard Lavinia breathing regularly in her sleep.
Don slept in the upper berth, or bunk, so he had to scramble down without making any noise. He dragged his blankets after him, and then proceeded to wake Dot up without causing an outcry. Dot was tired and slept heavily, but he succeeded in rousing her after a struggle, and she began to remember the great fun they were going to have with Jumpin' Jane. She crawled cautiously out of bed and took her blanket out.
Both children donned their heavy clothing and pulled toboggan hoods down over their ears. Then wrapping the blankets about them, they opened the door on a crack to see if the coast was clear.
Being Saturday night, the men and elders of the camp were still in the dining-room. The timber-jacks were playing cards while the Starrs and Latimers were having a game of chess. All was quiet in the solemn light of the full moon.
"Good! We can get away easy," whispered Don, as he stepped carefully from the doorway.
Dot followed and closed the door behind her.
The twins ran forward as fast as they could until they were out of the circle of light shed by the great lanterns that were hung on trees all about the clearing. Then they went slower as they reached the cut-road.
"Yah! I'm sleepy," yawned Dot.
"So'm I," said Don.
"It's awful cold," shivered Dot.
"Wait till Jumpin' Jane gets fired up an' you won't feel cold," encouraged Don.
They tried to hurry over the frozen rough road but found the blankets an impediment, so Don suggested that they take them off and carry them instead. This was done and walking was much easier.
"I'm hungry, shall we eat the apple?" asked Dot.
"You'll be hungrier for breakfast if you eat the apple now. Remember, we ate the crackers," said Don.
So Dot stoically resisted the temptation to devour the apple in Don's pocket.
"Oh, I'm so tired! Let's sit down here a minute and rest," said Dot.
"No, you mustn't! Haven't you ever heard that it's dangerous to sit down in the cold when you're tired? Folks get frozen stiff that way," said Don.
After a long, cold walk—the latter half dragged out by half-frozen feet—the children reached the spot where the timber cutting was being done. The gaunt forest trees looked very weird in the moonlight, and Jumpin' Jane stood like a grim ogre waiting to swallow anything so small as the twins.
"Oh! but she looks awful!" whispered Dot, as they drew near the great black thing.
"I hope her fires didn't go out! We couldn't have a speck of fun if they were," worried Don, as he climbed up inside the caboose to investigate.
Don had flung his blanket over Dot's arm while he climbed into the machine, but soon he reappeared and told Dot to come in out of the cold, taking the blankets from her while she got up.