The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1907-07-10
of the flume, to work the better from

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within.
The candle sputtered overhead,
flickering Enthusiastically, and the
water, dark green in its steady flow,
each moment running swifter, tore
about his legs. Swift and certain
were his strokes, and soon the leaks
were closed.
Then, as he stood silent, shivering
violently, listening for trickling
sounds, faraway rumble came to
his ears. 1t began hollow and low
and ghostly, and increased to the
thunder of rapid firing. Instantly
Nelson knew what it was. The hour
has passed, and the logs were rush
ing down upon him!,
Like flash he dropped the calk-
ing-iron and sprang for the top of
the gigantic V. His one thought was
to leap over the side. But although
bungled that once-the once that in
volved his safety, perhaps his life.
He eXcitedly threw one leg toward
the ridge-and struck the candle!
Instantly he was in total darkness,
his grip torn loose.
The approaching roar increased to
the crash of thunder as the great
redwood trunks swept down toward
him, Again and again he struggled
for the top, and each time he fell
back in the face of the renewed force
of the stream. His brain became
dizzy, his agonized voice returned to
mock him.
Then he throught of the flume-
boat. fastened to the flume not far
from him. He struggled ahead and
reached for it blindly. His hands
closed upon the hook that held it.
While his brain echoed to the roar of
the logs, he crawled upon it, released
the fastenings and shot down the
fiume.
The drive came on, scraping and
rending and crashing. He lay fiat,
doubled up, gasping and wheeling
He was conscious only of a dynamic
rush and throb in his head. Half.
dazed, his senses returned just as the
drive struck the flume-boat. Nelson
was shot along the tunnel with ter.
rife speed. The air swished past
him and the water cut into his face,
binding and stinging him like drip
pings of molten lead.
Still clinging to the boat, he was
hurled out of the tunnel into the bril-
liant sunlight. Ahead he saw, as
through veil, a white, frothing sea,
dashing always into his eyes. Then,
as in dream, he realized that death
awaited him at the jump-off, when
he should be hurled out among the
logs into the river! There was but
one chance. If the tender at Geyser
Peak should see him he could stop
the flow But would there be time
enough to allow the water to cease
and the logs to settle in the chute?
Meanwhile, with swiftness he
had never before thought possible,
the lumber forced the boat down the
flume. Behind him the logs doomed
and thundered in headlong, inexora-
BILE pursuit
He was carried through the gloom
OF the short tunnel and over the high
steel trestles as one dropped from
a precipice. The flume sides became
lower and lower. The speed de-
creased in the lower canon, and as
Nelson looked ahead, the converging
blurs took shape in faraway noun
tains, snow-capped in the pale radi-
ance of the early twilight, and in
thick forests of redwood and yellow
pines, shaggy and gaunt upon the
slopes.
Over the spans that bridged the
boiling streams sped the drift, on
and on and on, hurtling and tumbling
and booming, winding now through
the lower canon toward the river.
The jump-off was only four miles
away. Could he throw himself over
The edge before he reached it? He
tried to lift his legs, but he was too
weak. Nelson prayed that the ten
der at Geyser Peak would be at his
post. 1t was his one chance of life.
The timber rushed on, more swift
ly now, close upon Geyser Peak.
Nelson was alert again. AS he was
hurled past, he cried out in a voice
tense with agony, the love of life
strong upon him. Had the tender
seen him? Had he heard? The
climbers face was stung with the
rush of water, and his eyes were
The drift reached the last grade.
The hills and cliffs gave way once
more to confused blurs, the swish
Of air flung back his hair from his
face. Mountain and hill and bluff
whirled past him, unseen and un-
cared for. Nelson still clung to the
boat, huddled up, helpless with ter
ror. Miles behind in the mountains
lay the long tunnel; three miles
ahead was the jump-off,
Then suddenly, as Nelson gripped
the fume-boat and prayed desperate
ly for life, he felt the rush of the
craft slacken,. and the terrific force
behind him lost its vitality. New
life SDrang into his veins. he fhri11ed