The company consisted, chiefly, of English sailors and adventurers from Australia, hard-workers and hard-drinkers, but possessing little Yankee adaptation. Their names were generally Tom, Dick, and Harry; the three more prominent members who alternated through the different offices alone rejoicing in the dignity of a surname. Yet in the division of our labour we maintained strict republican equality, each, in turn, wielding the shovel and the pick, and in due time exchanging them for the more laborious task of carrying earth and stones in buckets along the narrow pathway of the dam.
The dam itself was an immense structure, and its massive solidity had enabled it partially to withstand the freshets of the preceding winter. Half the foundation was formed by a pine three feet in diameter and a hundred feet in length, which had been drawn into the river by oxen, and was now held firmly in its place by the jagged rocks against which it rested. On this were laid, at right angles, their blackened butts projecting like a close array of pikes, a large number of stout saplings; and on these, again, a second timber, much smaller, however, than the first. Large stones were then thrown in on the upper side of this rude breastwork; other logs successively added—and, when the whole had thus attained a sufficient elevation, it was made tight with stones and gravel, and, finally, the finest earth we could procure. When I joined the company, about half the dam was completed, but a large part of the river still found its way through the farther extremity. The dam was here ten feet high, and twelve feet wide at the base; and all this mass of earth and stones had to be carried to the spot in buckets, a distance of two hundred and fifty feet, the labour being but slightly relieved by a small flatboat that was employed to bring earth from the opposite bank.
As the long forenoon dragged slowly on, many a chiding look was cast towards two towering pines that stood just one hour apart, high up on the hillside. When the sun at last had reached his meridian tower above the southernmost pine, the buckets and picks and shovels fell from our willing hands; the rest of the party got into the boat and paddled slowly across the river, while I, wearily and with long breaths, picked my way over the rocks—crossed one or two deep ravines—till, reaching the Red Bank, I descended with a bound, and, stretching myself on my blankets, lay in cloddish immutability till called to dinner. At two our long afternoon commenced, and, ah! how earnestly we desired the shadow, bringing with it health and refreshing. Slowly but gently our work went on, like the coral island rising from the deep Pacific. As we hemmed in the headstrong river, the pond above our dam continually enlarged, and more of the water was compelled to find its way through the canal.
But now my companions were impatient to obtain the reward of their labour, and they all said, "Let's go to work in the river bed and earn a little money."
We dug holes here and there in the gravel, but the water filled them like so many wells, and we were compelled to work higher on the bank. Still we made little or nothing, and again returned to the dam.
There were several ugly leaks that defied all our efforts; boat-load after boat-load of earth was emptied on the spot—bushels of old clothes, enough to make the fortune of all the rag merchants of Little Germany, collected in the neighbourhood, and carefully stowed away at the bottom by the most amphibious of our party, who used to emerge from his bath, dripping like a river-god and shivering as in an ague—all was in vain. It was really too bad; we had stopped the whole river, but we could not stop that trifling leak.
And just now, too, our boat was sunk. Pushing heedlessly off from the shore, it went down, full of earth, in ten feet of water; and when we reproached the crew for their clumsiness, we received no other consolation than that of knowing they had lost their boots.
The next day was cold and cloudy—a few wild geese flying south, dripped upon us some drops of rain.
"Well, boys," cried our democratic president, "and what shall we do now?"
"The rainy season is coming! we must go to work, and make what we can, each one for himself!" cried half the members.