Then, seeing there was nothing he could do, he decided to walk down by the river and see how much timber had been piled in the roll-ways.
From there, he started up the cut from the river toward the forest-timber where stood the Jumpin' Jane.
Several times he stopped and put his ear to the ground to listen, then shook his head.
"Mike go old! Mike hear noise!" said the Indian to himself.
After loping some distance he was sure he heard the call, and stood perfectly still to await another sound. It came.
"Mike good ear!" commented the old trapper as he started on a swift run up the road.
Coming through the dense growth of trees when quite near the clearing, Mike saw the cause of the shouting.
There hung Dot, by belt and garment, high up in the air, while just under her were several immense logs. She was too frightened to kick or squirm, which saved her from a painful fall.
Don was trying to climb out on the iron derrick when Mike came on the scene.
"Dun—no, no!" cried Mike, running over to hold Don.