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the riverman-第7章

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boulders; which was alternately a shallow or a stretch of white…

water according as the stream rose or fell。  Ordinarily the logs 

were flushed over this declivity by opening the gate; behind which a 

head of water had been accumulated。  Now; however; the efficiency of 

the gate had been destroyed。  Orde early discovered that he was 

likely to have trouble in preventing the logs rushing through the 

chute from grounding into a bad jam on the rapids below。



For a time the jam crew succeeded in keeping the 〃wings〃 clear。  In 

the centre of the stream; however; a small jam formed; like a pier。  

Along the banks logs grounded; and were rolled over by their own 

momentum into places so shallow as to discourage any hope of 

refloating them unless by main strength。  As the sluicing of the 

nine or ten million feet that constituted this particular drive went 

forward; the situation rapidly became worse。



Tom; we've got to get flood…water unless we want to run into an 

awful job there;〃 said Orde to the foreman。  〃I wonder if we can't 

drop that gate 'way down to get something for a head。〃



The two men examined the chute and the sluice…gate attentively for 

some time。



〃If we could clear out the splinters and rubbish; we might spike a 

couple of saplings on each side for the gate to slide down into;〃 

speculated North。  〃Might try her on。〃



The logs were held up in the pond; and a crew of men set to work to 

cut away; as well as they might in the rush of water; the splintered 

ends of the old sill and apron。  It was hard work。  Newmark; 

watching; thought it impracticable。  The current rendered footing 

impossible; so all the work had to be done from above。  Wet wood 

gripped the long saws vice…like; so that a man's utmost strength 

could scarcely budge them。  The water deadened the force of axe…

blows。  Nevertheless; with the sure persistence of the riverman; 

they held to it。  Orde; watching them a few moments; satisfied 

himself that they would succeed; and so departed up river to take 

charge of the rear。



This crew he found working busily among some overflowed woods。  They 

were herding the laggards of the flock。  The subsidence of the water 

consequent upon the opening of the sluice…gate had left stranded and 

in shallows many hundreds of the logs。  These the men sometimes; 

waist deep in the icy water; owing to the extreme inequality of the 

bottom; were rolling over and over with their peavies until once 

more they floated。  Some few the rivermen were forced to carry 

bodily; ten men to a side; the peavies clamped in as handles。  When 

once they were afloat; the task became easier。  From the advantage 

of deadwood; stumps; or other logs the 〃sackers〃 pushed the unwieldy 

timbers forward; leaping; splashing; heaving; shoving; until at last 

the steady current of the main river seized the logs and bore them 

away。  With marvellous skill they topped the dripping; bobby; 

rolling timbers; treading them over and over; back and forth; in 

unconscious preservation of equilibrium。



There was a good deal of noise and fun at the rear。  The crew had 

been divided; and a half worked on either side the river。  A rivalry 

developed as to which side should advance fastest in the sacking。  

It became a race。  Momentary success in getting ahead of the other 

fellow was occasion for exultant crowing; while a mishap called 

forth ironic cheers and catcalls from the rival camp。  Just as Orde 

came tramping up the trail; one of the rivermen's caulks failed to 

〃bite〃 on an unusually smooth; barked surface。  His foot slipped; 

the log rolled; he tried in vain to regain his balance; and finally 

fell in with a heavy splash。



The entire river suspended work to send up a howl of delight。  As 

the unfortunate crawled out; dripping from head to foot; he was 

greeted by a flood of sarcasm and profane inquiry that left no room 

for even his acknowledged talents of repartee。  Cursing and ashamed; 

he made his way ashore over the logs; spirting water at every step。  

There he wrung out his woollen clothes as dry as he could; and 

resumed work。



Hardly had Orde the opportunity to look about at the progress 

making; however; before he heard his name shouted from the bank。  

Looking up; to his surprise he saw the solemn cook waving a frantic 

dish…towel at him。  Nothing could induce the cook to attempt the 

logs。



〃What is it; Charlie?〃 asked Orde; leaping ashore and stamping the 

loose water from his boots。



〃It's all off;〃 confided the cook pessimistically。  〃It's no good。  

He's stopped us now。〃



〃What's off?  Who's stopped what?〃



〃Reed。  He's druv the men from the dam with a shotgun。  We might as 

well quit。〃



〃Shotgun; hey!〃 exclaimed Orde。  〃Well; the old son of a gun!〃  He 

thought a moment; his lips puckered as though to whistle; then; as 

usual; he laughed amusedly。  〃Let's go take a look at the army;〃 

said he。



He swung away at a round pace; followed rather breathlessly by the 

cook。  The trail led through the brush across a little flat point; 

up over a high bluff where the river swung in; down to another 

point; and across a pole trail above a marsh to camp。



A pole trail consists of saplings laid end to end; and supported 

three or four feet above wet places by means of sawbuck…like 

structures at their extremities。  To a river…man or a tight…rope 

dancer they are easy walks。  All others must proceed cautiously in 

contrite memory of their sins。



Orde marched across the first two lengths confidently enough。  Then 

he heard a splash and lamentations。  Turning; he perceived Charlie; 

covered with mud; in the act of clambering up one of the small 

trestles。



〃Ain't got no caulks!〃 ran the lamentations。  〃The  of a  of 

a pole…trail; anyways!〃



He walked ahead gingerly; threw his hands aloft; bent forward; then 

suddenly protruded his stomach; held out one foot in front of him; 

spasmodically half turned; and then; realising the case hopeless; 

wilted like a wet rag; to clasp the pole trail both by arm and leg。  

This saved him from falling off altogether; but swung him 

underneath; where he hung like the sloths in the picture…books。  A 

series of violent wriggles brought him; red…faced and panting; 

astride the pole; whence; his feelings beyond mere speech; he sadly 

eyed his precious derby; which lay; crown up; in the mud below。



Orde contemplated the spectacle seriously。



〃Sorry I haven't got time to enjoy you just now; Charlie;〃 he 

remarked。  〃I'd take it slower; if I were you。〃



He departed; catching fragments of vows anent never going on any 

more errands for nobody; and getting his time if ever again he went 

away from his wanigan。



Orde stopped short outside the fringe of brush to utter another 

irrepressible chuckle of amusement。



The centre of the dam was occupied by Reed。  The old man was still 

in full regalia; his plug hat fuzzier than ever; and thrust even 

farther back on his head; his coat…tails and loose trousers flapping 

at his every movement as he paced back and forth with military 

precision。  Over his shoulder he carried a long percussion…lock 

shotgun。  Not thirty feet away; perched along the bank; for all the 

world like a row of cormorants; sat the rivermen; watching him 

solemnly and in silence。



〃What's the matter?〃 inquired Orde; approaching。



The old man surveyed him with a snort of disgust。



〃If the law of the land don't protect me; I'll protect myself; sir;〃 

he proclaimed。  〃I give ye fair warning!  I ain't a…going to have my 

property interfered with no more。〃



〃But surely;〃 said Orde; 〃we have a right to run our logs through。  

It's an open river。〃



〃And hev ye been running your logs through?〃 cried the old man 

excitedly。  〃Hev ye?  First off ye begin to tear down my dam; and 

then; when the river begins a…roarin' and a…ragin' through; then you 

tamper with my improvements furthermore; a…lowerin' the gate and 

otherwise a…modifyin' my structure。〃



Orde stepped forward to say something further。  Immediately Reed 

wheeled; his thumb on the hammer。



〃All right; old Spirit of '76;〃 replied Orde。  〃Don't shoot; I'll 

come down。〃



He walked back to the waiting row; smiling quizzically。



〃Well; you calamity howlers; what do you think of it?〃



Nobody answered; but everybody looked expectant。



〃Think he'd shoot?〃 inquired Orde of Tom North。



〃I know he would;〃 replied North earnestly。  〃That crazy…headed kind 

are just the fellers to rip loose。〃



〃I think myself he probably would;〃 agreed Orde。



〃Surely;〃 spoke up Newmark; 〃whatever the status of the damage 

suits; you have the legal right to run your logs。〃



Orde rolled a quizzical eye in his direction。



〃Per…fect…ly correct; son;〃 he drawled; 〃but we're engaged in the 

happy occupation of getting out logs。  By the time the law w
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