Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1901-07-12


stream, five years ago, was remarkable
for number of unusual events. To
begin with, it was larger by millions of
feet than any ever before floated down
this stream. 1t was fioated in record
time, too, for the snow went off with
rush after the ice had gone out. Con-
sequently the creek was brimming, and
on this flood tide came the logs by the
tens of thousands.
To roll stranded logs from the banks
and to break the jams, there was a
gang of more than 60 strong, daring
men. They rode the torrent and fell
In dozen times a week, but at last
they learned caution.
Bill Kennedy rode log into Has
kell's riffs before he knew it one day.
A mile of white water full of rocks
was before him. Kennedy lost his
courage, the more completely because
his courage had never before failed
him. He uttered wild cry.
Dan Cunningham saw his peril, and
jumping to a passing log, pushed out
to the rescue. 1t was a wild race, but
the approach of help steadied Kennedy
and enabled him to keep his balance.
Cunningham, guiding his log into the
swiftest current, overlook the helpless
raftsman, and with his pike pole
steered both logs for shore.
There was an eddy just little way
below, and Cunningham, with all his
might. showed Kennedy into it, But
that thrust pushed his own far out,
rolling and rocking. Kennedy was
ashore in a moment, but before Cum
ningham could recover his balance
the log he rode hit rock; ono snd
flew up, and the rescuer was thrown
20 feet into the air. He came down
head first on froth covered rock and
disappeared. 1t was dark before the
body was recovered. After that the
men took the long way round, even at
dinner time.
No man is raftsman unless he can
ride log. So in a numbering country
every riverside boy of ambition learns
the knack on creek still waters. 1t is
a good thing to know how to do. 1t
means a good job when one grows up,
and may be the saving of life be-
sides.
Among the rest of the boys at Will
murt, viii Conway, 16 years old that
spring, was renowned. He knew the
creek, the places where the deer
crossed it. the brooks that the mink
followed and the pools the trout lurked
In. But he wasn't satisfied with the
money he earned selling trout and
trapping mink. He wanted to make
daily wages like a man. So he went
to George KOCH the boss driver, and
asked to go with his gang; but Koch
told the lad he wasn't big enough yet
to handle cant-hook.
1t was heavy disappointment to
Will. 1t hurt his pride; besides, the
family needed the money. But as ar
gument was of no avail, Will was
mere spectator on the bank just above
Mad Toms gorge when the driving
crew arrived there on Saturday
morning.
That was the best place on the creek
to see the drive. A big boulder had
come out of the deep water above the
gorge and lodged there in midstream
at the brink of the tumult, its broad,
ugly head two feet above the surface
level. Against it logs were hanging
every minute, making the worst jam of
the season. 1t was already 200 yards
long.
The mere fact that it was a big jam
was something, but that was not all.
Whoever broke this jam must surely
go through the gorge-a third of amile
of the widest plunging water, where
the flood piles up first against one
rock ledge, then against the other, and
finally glides into the foaming tumble
at the head of Mad Toms pool, in
which men have disappeared.
Haskell's rift, broad, open and com
paratively shallow, had cost Cunning
ham his life. Here was water tenfold
worse. At sight of the jam above it
the men hesitated and shook their
heads. They ate their lunch of cheese,
bread canned beef and coffee. Some
hoped the water would rise and lift the
jam over the boulder; they pointed out
that the stream was just then rising
a bit, for it was higher in the centre
than at the sides. At any rate, a little
delay would do no harm.
At the head of the jam the water
sucked and boiled, with little whirl-
pools diving into one another, On both
sides it raced, wide, black and smooth,
gurgling along the edges as it drew
bits of ice and sticks under the ends
of logs. Where the water was divid-
ed and its bed narrowed, the current
ran swifter and swifter till, at the en-
trance of the gorge, the water was
lined and the foam stretched out, and
even the bubbles were oblong slanted
back by the wind, or whisked off the
surface into shining, evanescent
threads. Under such conditions-with
the water sucking and boiling-no man
in the crew volunteered to go to the
jam. a matter of business, the boss
offered SIS to the one who would try.
There never was log jam that river
drivers wouldn't break sooner or later,
no matter how high or rough the wa