The Forrest City times., 1897-04-23

""oc SoihB is puSucu 10 the top. IL
was while working on one of these
drives that Sweetwood met with the
following thrilling experience:
With a canthook he was to follow the
first log as sort of steerer, whose duty
IL was to see that all was well. II the
log caught fast on any protruding ice,
snow or wood, with his hook he would
loosen it so that the trail would come
on. When the drive is In bad condition.
the steerer always finds plenty to do to
keep him busy. but if there is lots of
snow and cold weather, the slide is
usually all that can be desired, and the
steerer invariably has only the monot-
ony of tramping alongside and watch
ing the logs glide along. This was the
case during the late cold weather, and
Sweetwood. evidently tired with so
much tramping, determined to use the
logs as n means of more easily getting
up the mountain. With the driver Of
the team away back out of sight, Sweet
wood climbed on the foremost log and
congratulated himself how much nicer
IL was than trudging along in the snow.
In this pleasant mood he either for
got that when the logs reached the top
of the incline and began to descend the
grade their transit suddenly increased,
or else he was so absorbed in the pleas
ures of his ride that he forgot where he
was. Be that as it may. however, when
the first log went over the incline and
began going down Sweetwood was still
on it, and before he could dismount the
log was going at such a speed that TO
even try to get off meant death.
In this dilemma all that could be done
was to hold on like grim death and await
the worst, which to all intents seemed
death in some form or other, and most
likely most horrible death. Talk of
express trains, electricity or rapid tran
sit in any of its various forms, they are
not in it with the way that log trail
went down the mountain side. From
the summit to the west branch Of the
Susquehanna, where the drive ended.
was at least six miles, and in most places
the drive was quite steep. Gathering
momentum with every foot of it's de-
scent, the log with Sweetwood on it
sped on as if shot from some great gun.
Trees and rocks were passed with such
startling rapidity that they seemed as
cne solid blurred wall; the snow was
only glare of white, the log drive itself
seemed only a diminutive line, only
family discernible, winding in and out
like a huge snake. Sweetwood early
in the ride lost his hat, and his hair
streamed out behind like the tail of a
hobtail horse; the wind sang deafen-
ing tunes in his ears and almost blinded
him with it's velocity, while the frost
in the air seemed like hail pellets strik-
ing him in the face. There was little
time for thought, but even in the few
seconds there was. Sweetwood won
dered what the end would be.
Fortunately for Sweetwood. and the
only reason that he is alive to relate
his experience. the log on which he was
perched was large, smooth one, and
glded along comparatively easy. with
little turning. and never once snagging
on any protruding substance. Down.
down went log and rider, and in less
time than it takes to tell it the glimmer-
ing expanse of the Susquehanna burst
into view. Although nearly uncon-
scious, Sweetwood remembers giving
cne hasty glance toward the river and
r-oted the fact that it was comparatively
clear of logs at that point, and the next
thing he knew he was plunged into
about eight feet of water. Contrary to
his expectation of being crushed TO