Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1904-04-19

should have ceased to move. History
stared that Shearer had never lost
man on the river simply and solely be-
cause ne invariably took the dangerous
tasks Upon himself.
IN three days. the rollways were bro
ken. Now it became necessary to start
the rear.
For this purpose Billy Camp, the
COOK, had loaded his cook stove, guam
tity of provisions and a supply of bed
ding aboard scow At either end were
long sweeps to direct its course. The
craft was perhaps forty feet long, but
rather narrow, in order that it might
pass easily through the shoot of a dam.
1t was called the ''wanigan"
The huge. unwieldy craft from that
moment was to become possessed of
the devil. Down the white water of
rapids it would bump, smashing obsti-
nately against powders, against the
branches of the stream side it would
scrape, in the broad reaches it would
sulk, refusing to proceed. and when
expectancy demanded its pause it
would drag Billy Camp and his entire
crew ut the ropes end, while they tried
vainly to snub it against successfully
uprooted trees and stumps. When at
last the wanigan was moored fast for
the night-usually mile or so below
the spot planned-Billy Camp pushed
back his battered old brown derby hat,
the badge of his office, with sigh of
relief. To be sure, he and his men had
still to cut wood, construct cooking
and camp fires, pitch tents, snip browse
and prepare supper for seventy men,
but the hard work of the day was
over.
Along either bank, among the bush
es. on sand bars and in trees, hundreds
and hundreds of logs had been strand
ed when the main drive passed These
logs the rear crew were engaged in re-
storing to the current.
And, as man had to be able to ride
any kind of log in any water, to propel
that log by jumping OH it, by rolling it
squirrel fashion with the feet, by punt
ing it as one would a canoe, to be skill
full in pushing, prying and polling 9TH
er logs from the quarter deck of the
same cranky craft; as he must be pre-
pared at any and all times to jump
waist deep into the river, to work in
ice water hours at stretch; as he was
called upon to break the most danger
GUS jams on the river, representing, as
they did, the accumulation which the
jam crew had left behind them, it was
naturally considered the height Of glo-
ry to belong to the rear crew. Here
were the best of the Fighting Forty,
men with reputation as white water
birlers," men afraid of nothing.
Every morning the crews were divid-
ed into two sections under Kerlie and
Jack Hyland. Each crew had charge
of one side of the river. Scotty Par
sons exercised general supervisory
eye over both crews. Shearer and
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 foated two
long. graceful boats. called bateaux
These were in charge of expert boat
men. They carried in racks 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 We're
high, his nose fiat, his lips thick and
slabbery. He sported wide. fero-
cious 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
sions of 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 a few strokes Of
short paddle took him barely out of
danger. He huddled down in his craft,
waiting. One, two three seconds passed.