Each was using a long pole as a lever, and each now pressed down. This started the log toward the edge, and in a second the stick began to slide downward, slowly at first and then faster and faster.
"Hullo! hullo!" sang out a voice from far below. "Don't send any more logs down just yet!"
"It's Owen calling!" gasped Dale, his face growing suddenly white. "Owen, where are you?"
"There he is!" came from Andrews, holding up his hands in horror. "There, right in the way of that log!" He raised his voice into a shriek. "Run for your life! Run, or you'll be smashed into a jelly!"
CHAPTER VIII
CHRISTMAS, AND AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL
Owen heard the shriek, and although he did not understand the exact words uttered, he realized that it was meant for a warning.
He was about fifty feet up the side of the hill, ax in hand, preparing to cut down a bunch of saplings which, so far, had not been touched. The saplings had been knocked over by the other logs sent down, but the young lumberman thought it would be better if they were out of the way altogether.
Standing on something of a knob he looked up and saw the log coming down upon him, rolling and sliding with ever-increasing rapidity. That it was coming directly for him there could be no question, and for the moment his heart seemed to stop beating and a great cold chill crept up and down his backbone, while he had a mental vision of being crushed into a shapeless mass by that ponderous weight.