‘SKIDDED LANDING.’
“Three winters ago, as some of you will remember, Stranion and I took a month in the lumber-woods. It was drawing on toward spring. As we were both good snow-shoers, we managed to visit several widely scattered camps. At all we were received hospitably, with unlimited pork and beans, hot bread and tea; and at each we made a stay of several days.
“For our climax we selected that camp which promised us the most picturesque and exciting experiences at the breaking up of the ice. This was Evans’s Camp on Green River, where the logs were gathered in what is known as a ‘rough-and-tumble landing,’—a form which entails much excitement and often grave peril to the axeman whose work is to cut the ‘brow’ loose.
“As it happened, however, the most stirring adventure that fell to our personal experience on that trip was one we encountered at Clarke’s Camp, on the Tobique, where we stayed but three days.
“This camp, but one of the many centres of operation of the great lumbering firm of Clarke & Co., was generally known as ‘Skidded Landing.’ And here let me explain the terms ‘brow,’ ‘drive,’ ‘rough-and-tumble landing,’ and ‘skidded landing.’
“In lumbermen’s parlance, the logs of the winter’s chopping, hauled and piled on the river-bank where they can conveniently be launched into the water upon the breaking up of the ice, are termed collectively ‘a brow of logs.’
“When once the logs have been got into the water, and, shepherded by the lumbermen with their pike-poles, are flocking wildly seaward on the swollen current, they and their guardians together constitute ‘the drive.’
“The task the lumbermen are now engaged upon is termed ‘stream driving;’ and laborious, perilous work it is, especially on those rivers which are much obstructed by rapids, rocks, and shoals. A brow of logs is a ‘landing’ when the logs are piled from the water’s edge. A landing may be either a ‘rough-and-tumble’ or a ‘skidded’ landing.
“The ‘rough-and-tumble,’ which good woodsmen generally regard as a shiftless affair, is made by driving a few heavy timbers into the mud at the water’s edge, at the foot of a sloping bank. These form a strong and lofty breastwork. Into the space behind are tumbled the logs helter-skelter from the top of the bank, as they are hauled from the woods. All through the winter the space keeps filling up, and by spring the strain on the sustaining piles is something tremendous.
“When the thaw comes and the river rises, and the ice goes out with a rush, then the accumulation of logs has to be set free. This is done by cutting away the most important of the sustaining timbers, whereupon the others snap, and the logs go roaring out in a terrific avalanche.
“It is easy to realize the perils of cutting out this kind of landing. If the landing has been unskilfully or carelessly located, the peril of the enterprise is greatly increased.
“The ‘skidded’ landing is a much more business-like affair. In this kind of structure the logs are placed systematically. First a layer of logs is deposited parallel with the river’s edge. Across these, at right angles, are laid a few light poles, technically termed skids. On these another layer of logs parallel to the water, and so on to the completion of the structure.
“With this species of landing, to release the logs is a very simple matter. There is nothing to do but quietly roll them off, layer by layer, into the stream, which snatches them and hurries them away.
“From this it will be seen why we did not elect to stay long at Skidded Landing. But while we were there something happened in this fashion.
“On the second day of our stay in the camp, it chanced that Stranion was lazy. When I set forth to examine some snares which I had set the night before, he chose to snooze in his bunk rather than accompany me. As events befell, he proved to have made the wiser choice.
“Of course I took my gun with me. I was thinking of small game exclusively,—during our wanderings, hitherto, we had seen nothing larger than a fox,—and both barrels were loaded with cartridges containing No. 4 shot. But with unaccountable thoughtlessness I neglected to take any heavier ammunition in my pocket; yet that was the only time on the trip that heavier ammunition was needed.
“I visited my snares, and found in one of them a rabbit. ‘The boys’ll appreciate a rabbit stew,’ thought I, as I hitched the frozen carcass to my belt. A little farther on I started another rabbit, which I shot, and hitched beside its fellow; and then I struck out blithely for camp. Before I had retraced my path many paces, I came face to face with an immense bear, which apparently had been dogging my steps.
“We halted and eyed each other sharply. I thought I detected a guilty uneasiness in the animal’s gaze, as if he were properly ashamed of himself for his ungentlemanly conduct. Presuming upon this, I spoke in an authoritative voice, and took one or two firm steps in advance. I expected the animal to step aside deferentially and let me pass, but I had forgotten that this was a hungry season for bears. The brute lumbered forward with alacrity, as if ferociously surprised at my readiness to furnish him a much-needed luncheon.
“In my trepidation I did not let him get near enough before I fired my solitary cartridge. Had I let him come to close quarters, the heavy bird-shot would have served the full purpose of a bullet. But no, I was in too much of a hurry. The charge had room to scatter before it reached my assailant; and the pellets only served to cut him up badly about the head without in the least interfering with his fighting capacity.
“With something between a grunt and a howl of pain and fury he dashed upon me; and I, dropping my cherished weapon in a panic, made a mighty bound to one side and darted toward the open river. I wanted free play for my snow-shoes, and no risk from hidden stumps.
“In the woods the snow was soft enough to give me some advantage over my pursuer. I gained on him when doing my utmost. But being gaunt from his long fast, and very light in proportion to his prodigious strength, his progress, with that awkward gallop of his, was terrifyingly rapid. Moreover, I had vividly before my mind’s eye the consciousness of what would be my instant fate should I trip on a buried stump or root, or plunge into some snow-veiled bush that would entangle my snow-shoes.
“Once out upon the river I breathed more freely. But the bear was hard upon my heels. Here the snow was more firmly packed, and he travelled faster. I ceased to increase the little distance between us. After two piercing yells for help, I saved my breath for the race before me.
“I was really not very far from the camp; but the trees and a high point intercepted my cries, and the wind blew them away, so they failed to reach Stranion’s ears. Nevertheless, it happened that Stranion grew restless about the time of my first meeting with the bear.
“He strolled down to the landing, which was perhaps three hundred yards from the camp, seated himself upon a spruce log, and began to dig off with his pocket-knife the perfumed amber-like globules of gum. He was engaged in this innocent if not engrossing occupation when he caught sight of me racing desperately around the jutting point immediately above the landing.
“At the sight of my terror he sprang to his feet, and was about to rush back to camp for his gun; but straightway the bear appeared, and so close behind me that he knew there was no time to get the weapon. The emergency was upon him. He knew something had to be done at once. Fortunately he was ready of resource. He dropped down, and crawled swiftly to the edge of the landing.
“The track I was following led along close under the front of the landing, then turned the corner sharply and ran straight up to the camp. The bear was now gaining on me. He was not more than thirty or forty feet behind. I was beginning to realize that he must catch me before I could reach the camp.
“Coming to this conclusion, I was just about to put forth all my remaining breath in one despairing shriek for help, then to turn and make what fight I could with my sheath-knife, which had already been used to cut away the dangling rabbits, when out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of Stranion on the top of the logs. I took one look at his face and saw its look of readiness. He grinned encouragingly, but put his finger on his lips for silence.
“At the sight of him I felt new vigor flow through all my veins. With fresh speed I raced along past the front of the landing, turned the corner, and bounded up the slope. Reaching the hard track, I kicked my feet clear of the snow-shoes, and started to climb up the logs to join Stranion.
“At this moment Stranion found his opportunity. The bear came plunging along on my tracks, immediately beneath the face of the logs. And now, with a stake which he had snatched up, Stranion pried mightily upon the two front logs of the top tier. The great timbers rolled swiftly over the edge.
“One of them, the heaviest, was just in time. It caught the animal over the hindquarters, and crushed him to the ice. When Stranion’s triumphant shout proclaimed the success of his attack, I threw myself down between two logs and lay there gasping, while Stranion returned to the camp, got his gun, and put the wounded animal out of his pain.
“Later in the day, much later, Stranion and I together went over the ground I had traversed with such celerity. We recovered the rabbits, and also, after a persistent search in the snow, the gun which I had so basely abandoned.”
“I think that is a pretty straight account of what happened,” said Stranion; “and now we will hear something from Magnus’s uncle.”
“No,” said Magnus; “I’ll tell you something my cousin Bob Raven told me about a time he had with—