"You mustn't go!" he cried. "No, no! You've got six little ones at home, an' a wife who wants ye. I'll go in yer place."
Big Jake looked at Tony in surprise, and into his strong, determined face came an expression of tenderness which the men had never seen before.
"No, lad," he replied, "it can't be. The lot's fallen to me, an' I'm the one to do it. I thank ye kindly all the same."
Tony waited to hear no more. His eyes glanced upon an axe lying near. Springing towards this he seized it, and before a restraining hand could be laid upon him he bounded towards the Gorge, sprang down the bank and leaped upon the logs.
Big Jake rushed after him, calling and imploring him to come back. But his cries were unheeded. Tony was now between the rocky walls, working his way over those tossed and twisted monsters, deaf to all entreaties from the shore.
"Come back, Jake!" roared the men from behind. "It's no use for you to go now. He's taken the matter into his own hands, an' one's enough."
Reluctantly he obeyed, and stood with the rest watching with breathless interest to see what would happen.
Tony had now reached the front of the jam, and was carefully picking his way to the gripping key log. Balancing himself as well as he could he chose a spot where the strain was the greatest. Then the axe cleaved the air, the keen blade bit the wood, and the whirling chips played about his head. Deeper and deeper the steel ate into the side of the giant spruce. Suddenly a report like a cannon split the air, the axe was hurled like a rocket out into midstream to sink with a splash into the foaming eddies. Tony turned, leaped like lightning back upon the main body of logs, and started for the shore. But he was too late. With a roar of pent-up wrath the mighty drive moved forward. Down through the Gorge it surged, gaining in speed every instant from the terrible pressure behind. And down with it went Tony, enwrapped with foam and spray. Nobly he kept his feet. He leaped from one log to another. He dodged monster after monster, which rose on end and threatened to strike him down. It was a wild race with death. Should he miss his footing or lose his head only for an instant he would have been ground to pieces in that rush of doom. The watching men stood as if transfixed to the spot. They saw him speeding onward and drawing nearer to the shore at the sharp bend in the stream. It looked as if he would gain the bank, and a cheer of encouragement rang out over the waters. But the words had scarcely died upon their lips ere they beheld the logs part asunder right beneath Tony's feet, and with a wild cry he plunged into the rushing current below. Frantically he clutched at the nearest logs, and endeavoured to pull himself up from that watery grave. At times he managed to draw himself part way out, but the swirling waters sucked him down. It needed only a little help, but the logs were wet and slippery, and there was nothing on which to obtain a firm grip. His body was becoming numb from the icy waters, and at each terrible struggle he felt himself growing weaker. He knew he could last but little longer in such a position. Was he to drown there? His thoughts flashed to his little home in Glendow. Were they thinking of him? he wondered. What would his mother say when they carried her the news? Oh, if he could only feel her strong hand in his now, how soon he would be lifted from that awful place. Suddenly there came into his mind her parting words when he had left home.
"Tony," she had said, "ye may be often in danger out thar in the woods. But remember what the good Lord said, 'Call upon me in the day of trouble an' I will deliver ye.'"
And there in the midst of that swirling death he lifted up his voice. "Oh, Lord!" he cried, "help me! save me!"