“We’ve made a whole lot better time coming down than we’ll be able to make going back,” he said, when Ed expressed surprise that they had finished the trip so soon. “Fact is, we’ve ridden down on the back of the flood; but we’ll return with what is left of it pushing us in the face.”
On both sides of the river were many logs lying along the bank close to the water. They had been cut and dragged there during the winter, and when the water subsided to the desired level they would be rolled into it and floated down to the mill, many miles below. Other men now appeared along the shores and waved their hands cheerfully at the canoemen.
“They have their booms stretched,” said Ben, pointing to a long line of floating logs chained one to the other. “That means they’re intending to send the logs down—probably to-morrow.”
The boys found that the booms were used to guide the logs in their course, and to hold them back at certain stations until the stream below was cleared for their passage or a jam broken up. He told them that a jam was a great tangled pile-up of logs, caused by one or two logs grounding, or jamming, and obstructing the progress of the hundreds afloat behind them.
It appeared that patrols of lumbermen were stationed along the river, while the logs were “running,” to watch for just such emergencies. These men would go fearlessly to work to break a jam, a hard and dangerous task. If unsuccessful, they would run to the nearest of the telephone-boxes, which the company had placed at intervals along the shore, and summon aid. Sometimes a bad jam required the work of several days to break it, and dynamite was often used in such cases.
Twilight was gathering when they spied a clearing some distance along on the right bank of the river. As they approached they saw that it contained several long, low, log cabins.
“There’s the camp,” said Ben, and he headed the bow of the canoe toward shore.
As he drew closer he shouted. Immediately some men made their appearance in the doorway of one cabin, and, seeing the canoe, came outside. Two of them left the group and started slowly toward the water. When they had come near enough to recognize Ben, they called to him and pointed to a suitable landing-place. As soon as the bow of the canoe touched bottom, they pulled it from the water, and the three occupants stepped out.
“Howdy, Ben,” greeted the two lumbermen.
“Helloa, Ned! Helloa, Jim!” replied the guide, shaking each of them by the hand. Then he motioned to the boys. “These are young friends of mine, Ed Williams and George Rand; they’ve been spending the winter with me. Boys, shake hands with Ned Crawford and Jim Halliday. Crawford is foreman of this crew, and Jim is the greatest log-rider in the country.”