“You see, miss, rights are well mixed up all through this region,” said old Vittum, who had been spokesman for his fellows on her first meeting with them. He gave her a demure wink. “The main idea is, God is making this water run downhill just now, and it doesn’t seem right for mortal man to stop it from running.”
They “manned the river,” as the drivers say. That meant overlapping crews, day and night.
No squad was out of sight of another; a yell above the roar of the flood or a cap brandished on the end of a pike pole summoned help to break a forming jam or to card logs off ledges or to dislodge “jillpokes” which had stabbed their ends into the soggy banks of the river. Men ate as they ran and they slept as they could. Some of them, snatching time to eat, sitting on the shore, went sound asleep after a few mouthfuls and slumbered with their faces in their plates till a companion kicked them back into wakefulness. They grinned and were up again!
As for Lida Kennard, she was treated with as much tender care as if she were a reigning princess on tour. She protested indignantly because they would not allow her to rough it along with them. They made soft beds of spruce tips at their camping sites and they gave her the post of honor in a big bateau.
In the rush of affairs she did not pause to wonder whether she was offending any of the proprieties by staying on with the drive; she had become the Flagg spirit incarnate and was not troubling herself with petty matters.
Old Vittum and Felix were her advisers, and they prized her presence as an asset of inestimable value; she allowed them to think for her in that crisis.
“It’s a tough life, miss, the best we can make it for you,” admitted Vittum. “But if you can stick and hang till Skulltree is passed it means that the boys will keep the glory of doing in ’em!”
From rendering service according to her ability they could not prevent her, though the men protested. She helped the cooks. Hurrying here and there, following the scattered men of the crews, she tugged great cans of hot coffee. When the toilers saw her coming and heard her voice they took desperate chances on the white water, jousting with their pike poles like knights in a tourney.
She put into the hearts of the crew the passion of derring do!
The drive that spring was not a sordid task—it was high emprise, it was a joyous adventure!