“Oh, boy!” Jerry said. “That sounds like fun.”
“It is fun,” Jonas agreed. “But it’s also become quite a skillful sport. Wait till you see these boys go at it.”
When they reached the pond, Pete and Charley carefully chose a log about two feet in diameter and twelve feet long from a pile nearby and rolled it into the water. Then they stepped onto opposite ends of the log and Jonas shoved it into the middle of the pond with a long pole. The two big men, hobnailed boots planted firmly in the bark, rode the bobbing log like cats, their thumbs hooked nonchalantly in their belts.
“Looks easy,” Jerry said.
“Don’t kid yourself,” said Quiz.
At a signal from Jonas, the contest began. Pete took the offensive at once. Back-pedaling with short, mincing steps, he sent the log rolling over and over in the water. Faster and faster his feet moved until the log was a spinning blur beneath them. But Charley jogged effortlessly with the spin, never once removing his thumbs from under his belt.
“He must be part fly,” Sandy murmured admiringly.
Suddenly, Pete braked the log with his spikes. Charley hung on nimbly, though he did have to extend his arms for balance. Pete studied his opponent briefly, then tried another approach. Facing the other man, he spread his feet, spikes dug deep into the soft bark. Throwing his weight to the right, he rolled the log to that side, then jerked it back sharply in the opposite direction. Back and forth, back and forth, he went, stirring up waves in the little pond. Charley just crouched low and rolled with the log.
Finally, Pete abandoned this method too, and began to jump up and down on his end of the log until it was lurching up and down in the water like a seesaw. Once Charley’s boot slipped as the log rolled unexpectedly, but he recovered himself neatly.
“I’ve never seen such a display of balance and coordination,” Russ said.