The merry meal was soon over, and, with an invitation to come and see them at work, the lumbermen started for the woods and the river. Ned, the foreman, was too busy to give much attention to his guests, and telling the guide where he might find him at work, he quickly followed after his men.
Left alone, Ben and the boys, feeling thoroughly at home, began a closer inspection of the camp. Charley, the cook, came out and joined them, and they found him a quaint and interesting character. He told of his experiences in the lumber woods, and, of course, made a great impression on Ed and George. When they had been sitting there some little time, the guide rose and pointed toward the river.
“They’re running; here comes the head of the drive!” he cried.
Plowing their way swiftly down the current, the boys saw an advance-guard of huge logs. Close behind were others, and as the boys hurried to the water’s edge, they saw the river was dotted with logs as far up as they could look. The majority drifted rapidly past, well out in the middle of the stream. Occasionally, however, one would swerve and bang against the bank, or become temporarily stranded on a sand-bar or pebbly beach.
Suddenly they saw Jim Halliday sweep into view around a turn of the river. He was standing erect on one of the drifting logs, boldly “riding” it down the stream. The boys watched him in wide-eyed amazement as he came gliding along, balancing himself with a long peavey-pole, which he held horizontally. When he was opposite, the “lumber-jack” waved his arm, and they cheered him. Jim skilfully steered the log into a quiet eddy beyond, and, jumping into the water, sent his “wooden horse” down the river and waded briskly ashore.
“That’s what they call log-riding,” explained Ben.
“RIDING” A LOG DOWN THE STREAM
Halliday had been despatched back to camp on an errand, and had taken advantage of the opportunity for his first ride of the season. When he was ready to return up-river, he asked Ben and the boys to accompany him, declaring that there was “a barrel of fun” going on up there.
They followed Jim several miles along a winding river trail, until they came to a large clearing where the men were at work. Here the crew were rolling logs down the steep bank into the water. Strong-armed, quick-footed fellows started a huge log, and then jumped nimbly out of its way as it went bumping down the incline to land in the river. There other men, immersed to their waists, tugged and pushed till they worked it into the current and started it on its long, uncertain course to the distant mill. The great collection of logs extended well back into the woods. As fast as the front ones were moved more were dragged forward by the teams. It was an absorbing scene of bustling activity. As Jim had said, there was plenty of sport. They saw several of the crew pushed from the bank by their frolicsome comrades. The victims always took their ducking good-humoredly, and scrambled from the water determined to retaliate.