“Did you see Helen?”
“Sadie saw her. I understand she was very well and sent you a message. You're to finish your job and make good—Helen understands.”
Festing was silent a moment, and when he looked up his eyes were soft. “Thank you, Bob! Or perhaps it's Sadie I ought to thank?”
“I wouldn't bother about it. Sadie's fond of meddling,” Charnock answered with some embarrassment. “But will the snow stop the work?”
“Not altogether. We can keep busy on the hill and I'm going up now. Will you come?”
“Presently,” said Charnock, smiling. “Food's a thing you don't seem to need when you're occupied, but I want my breakfast before I start.”
Festing went away, and after a time Charnock joined him on the hill, where fresh trees had been felled and roughly squared with the ax. Men and horses were working hard, but Charnock stopped for a minute or two before he began. The snow was different from the thin covering that scarcely hid the short grass on the plains. The pines were glittering white pyramids, with branches that bent beneath their load, and there were no inequalities on the drop to the river. Every projection was leveled up, the hollows were filled, and the snow ran unbroken among the trunks in a smooth white sheet. It was not drying and getting powdery, because the frost was not very keen, and he imagined that Festing meant to get as much lumber as possible down while the surface could be beaten into a smooth track.
“You might take Gordon's team and break a trail by hauling the lighter pieces to the top,” Festing said. “They'll run down when they have worn a chute, but we'll have some trouble man-handling the first.”
Charnock nodded as he glanced over the edge of the narrow tableland. The descent was not steep near the top, but farther on it dropped precipitously to the water, crossing the curve by the bridge.
“How will you stop the heavy stuff going into the river?” he asked.