The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1904-07-21

Thorpe Travelled back and forth the
length Of the drive, riding the logs
down stream. but taking to a partly
submerged pole trail when ascending
the current. On the surface of the
river in the clear water tloated two
long, graceful boats called bateaux
Ihese were in charge of expert boat
men. They carried in racks a great
supply Of pike poles, peaveys, axes,
rope and dynamite for use in various
emergencies.
intense rivalry existed as to which
crew 'sacked' the farthest down the
stream in the course Of the day. There
was no need to urge the men, Some
stood upon the logs, pushing nightly
with the long pike poles. From one
END OF the rear to the other shouts,
calls, warnings and jokes flew back
and forth. Once or twice a vast roar
OF Homeric laughter went up as some
unfortunate slipped and 'soused into
the water. When the current Stacked
and the logs hesitated in their run the
entire crew fastened, bobbing from
log to log, down river to see about it.
Then they broke the jam, standing
surely on the edge Of the great dark
ness, while the ice water sucked in
and out of their shoes. ~
Behind the rear Big Junko poled his
bateau backward and forward explod-
ing dynamite. Many of the bottom
tiers of logs in the rollways had been
frozen down, and Big Junko had to
loosen them from the bed of the
stream. He was a big man, this, as
his nickname indicated, built of many
aWkwardnesses. His cheek bones were
high, his nose fat, his lips thick and
slabbery. He sported wide, fero-
clous struggling mustache and long
eyebrows, under which cleaned little
fierce eyes. His forehead sloped back
like beasts, but was always hidden
by disreputable felt hat. Big Junko
did not know much and had the pas
slons of a wild ANIMAL but he was
reckless river man and devoted to
Thorpe. Just now he exploded dyna-
mite.
The sticks of powder were piled
amidships. Big Junko crouched over
them, inserting the fuses and caps,
closing the openings with soap, finally
lighting them and dropping them into
the water alongside, where they imme-
diately sank. Then few strokes of a
short paddle took him barely out of
hanger. He huddled down in his craft,
waiting. One, two, three seconds passed
Then a hollow boom shook the stream
A cloud of water sprang up. strangely
beautiful. After moment the great
brown logs rose suddenly to the sur
face from below. one after the other,
like leviathans of the deep.
Thorpe and Tim Shearer nearly al
ways slept in a dog tent at the rear,
though occasionally they passed the
night at Dam Two. where Bryan Mo-
loney and his crew were already en-
gagged in sluicing the logs through the
shoot
The affair was simple enough. Long
booms arranged in the form of an
open V guided the drive to the sluice
gate, through which smooth apron
VI "dtSI luSuCO " luIlllOll Ill all CuuH-
ing pool below. Two men tramped
steadily backward and forward on the
booms, urging the logs forward by
means of long pike poles to where the
suction could seize them. Below the
dam the push Of the sluice water
forced them several miles down stream,
where the rest of Bryan Moloney's
crew took them in charge
Thus through the wide gate nearly
three-quarters Of million feet an
hour could be run, and at length the
last OF the logs drifted into the wide
dam pool. The rear had arrived at
Dam Two, and Thorpe congratulated
himself that one stage of his journey
had been completed.