"Ah! here we are at last!" cried Dot, as she sat down to rest.
"Come up on this tall heap of logs," said Don, scrambling up to the top of a twenty foot pier.
The children sat there looking all about the country with delight. The air was warm enough to be comfortable, and the river looked wonderful with the swift current pouring down the center and huge blocks of ice floating up against the banks or being whirled into the stream by suction of the current.
"Great, isn't it!" exclaimed Don.
"Yes, but I wouldn't want to be on one of those cakes of ice," shivered Dot.
"Neither would anyone!"
"I'll tell you what I would like to play," said Dot.
"What?" asked Don.
"I'd play I was one of the river-men with a peavie an' I'd try to push the logs down in the river," said Dot, looking down at some logs lying halfway in the water.
"How could we manage—let me see! We could get out on that raft and stand on that to push the logs out," suggested Don.