Then they held their breath with awe, Pulling on the rope, and saw Fainting figures reappear, On the black ropes swinging clear, Fastened by some skilful hand from below; Till a score the level gained, And but one alone remained,— He the hero and the last, He whose skilful hand made fast The long line that brought them back to hope and cheer!
Haggard, gasping, down dropped he At the feet of Harry Lee,— Harry Lee, the English foreman of the mine; "I have come," he gasped, "to claim Both rewards, Señior,—my name Is Ramon! I'm the drunken engineer,— I'm the coward, Señior—" Here He fell over, by that sign Dead as stone!
BRET HARTE.
AT THE CEDARS.
You had two girls—Baptiste— One is Virginie— Hold hard—Baptiste! Listen to me.
The whole drive was jammed, In that bend at the Cedars; The rapids were dammed With the logs tight rammed And crammed; you might know The devil had clinched them below.
We worked three days—not a budge! "She's as tight as a wedge On the ledge," Says our foreman:
"Mon Dieu! boys, look here, We must get this thing clear." He cursed at the men, And we went for it then; With our cant-dogs arow, We just gave he-yo-ho, When she gave a big shove From above.
The gang yelled, and tore For the shore; The logs gave a grind, Like a wolf's jaws behind, And as quick as a flash, With a shove and a crash, They were down in a mash. But I and ten more, All but Isaàc Dufour, Were ashore.
He leaped on a log in the front of the rush, And shot out from the bind While the jam roared behind; As he floated along He balanced his pole And tossed us a song. But, just as we cheered, Up darted a log from the bottom, Leaped thirty feet fair and square, And came down on his own.