the riverman-第8章
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himself that they would succeed; and so departed up river to take
charge of the rear。
This crew he found working busily among some overflowed woods。 They
were herding the laggards of the flock。 The subsidence of the water
consequent upon the opening of the sluice…gate had left stranded and
in shallows many hundreds of the logs。 These the men sometimes;
waist deep in the icy water; owing to the extreme inequality of the
bottom; were rolling over and over with their peavies until once
more they floated。 Some few the rivermen were forced to carry
bodily; ten men to a side; the peavies clamped in as handles。 When
once they were afloat; the task became easier。 From the advantage
of deadwood; stumps; or other logs the 〃sackers〃 pushed the unwieldy
timbers forward; leaping; splashing; heaving; shoving; until at last
the steady current of the main river seized the logs and bore them
away。 With marvellous skill they topped the dripping; bobby;
rolling timbers; treading them over and over; back and forth; in
unconscious preservation of equilibrium。
There was a good deal of noise and fun at the rear。 The crew had
been divided; and a half worked on either side the river。 A rivalry
developed as to which side should advance fastest in the sacking。
It became a race。 Momentary success in getting ahead of the other
fellow was occasion for exultant crowing; while a mishap called
forth ironic cheers and catcalls from the rival camp。 Just as Orde
came tramping up the trail; one of the rivermen's caulks failed to
〃bite〃 on an unusually smooth; barked surface。 His foot slipped;
the log rolled; he tried in vain to regain his balance; and finally
fell in with a heavy splash。
The entire river suspended work to send up a howl of delight。 As
the unfortunate crawled out; dripping from head to foot; he was
greeted by a flood of sarcasm and profane inquiry that left no room
for even his acknowledged talents of repartee。 Cursing and ashamed;
he made his way ashore over the logs; spirting water at every step。
There he wrung out his woollen clothes as dry as he could; and
resumed work。
Hardly had Orde the opportunity to look about at the progress
making; however; before he heard his name shouted from the bank。
Looking up; to his surprise he saw the solemn cook waving a frantic
dish…towel at him。 Nothing could induce the cook to attempt the
logs。
〃What is it; Charlie?〃 asked Orde; leaping ashore and stamping the
loose water from his boots。
〃It's all off;〃 confided the cook pessimistically。 〃It's no good。
He's stopped us now。〃
〃What's off? Who's stopped what?〃
〃Reed。 He's druv the men from the dam with a shotgun。 We might as
well quit。〃
〃Shotgun; hey!〃 exclaimed Orde。 〃Well; the old son of a gun!〃 He
thought a moment; his lips puckered as though to whistle; then; as
usual; he laughed amusedly。 〃Let's go take a look at the army;〃
said he。
He swung away at a round pace; followed rather breathlessly by the
cook。 The trail led through the brush across a little flat point;
up over a high bluff where the river swung in; down to another
point; and across a pole trail above a marsh to camp。
A pole trail consists of saplings laid end to end; and supported
three or four feet above wet places by means of sawbuck…like
structures at their extremities。 To a river…man or a tight…rope
dancer they are easy walks。 All others must proceed cautiously in
contrite memory of their sins。
Orde marched across the first two lengths confidently enough。 Then
he heard a splash and lamentations。 Turning; he perceived Charlie;
covered with mud; in the act of clambering up one of the small
trestles。
〃Ain't got no caulks!〃 ran the lamentations。 〃The of a of
a pole…trail; anyways!〃
He walked ahead gingerly; threw his hands aloft; bent forward; then
suddenly protruded his stomach; held out one foot in front of him;
spasmodically half turned; and then; realising the case hopeless;
wilted like a wet rag; to clasp the pole trail both by arm and leg。
This saved him from falling off altogether; but swung him
underneath; where he hung like the sloths in the picture…books。 A
series of violent wriggles brought him; red…faced and panting;
astride the pole; whence; his feelings beyond mere speech; he sadly
eyed his precious derby; which lay; crown up; in the mud below。
Orde contemplated the spectacle seriously。
〃Sorry I haven't got time to enjoy you just now; Charlie;〃 he
remarked。 〃I'd take it slower; if I were you。〃
He departed; catching fragments of vows anent never going on any
more errands for nobody; and getting his time if ever again he went
away from his wanigan。
Orde stopped short outside the fringe of brush to utter another
irrepressible chuckle of amusement。
The centre of the dam was occupied by Reed。 The old man was still
in full regalia; his plug hat fuzzier than ever; and thrust even
farther back on his head; his coat…tails and loose trousers flapping
at his every movement as he paced back and forth with military
precision。 Over his shoulder he carried a long percussion…lock
shotgun。 Not thirty feet away; perched along the bank; for all the
world like a row of cormorants; sat the rivermen; watching him
solemnly and in silence。
〃What's the matter?〃 inquired Orde; approaching。
The old man surveyed him with a snort of disgust。
〃If the law of the land don't protect me; I'll protect myself; sir;〃
he proclaimed。 〃I give ye fair warning! I ain't a…going to have my
property interfered with no more。〃
〃But surely;〃 said Orde; 〃we have a right to run our logs through。
It's an open river。〃
〃And hev ye been running your logs through?〃 cried the old man
excitedly。 〃Hev ye? First off ye begin to tear down my dam; and
then; when the river begins a…roarin' and a…ragin' through; then you
tamper with my improvements furthermore; a…lowerin' the gate and
otherwise a…modifyin' my structure。〃
Orde stepped forward to say something further。 Immediately Reed
wheeled; his thumb on the hammer。
〃All right; old Spirit of '76;〃 replied Orde。 〃Don't shoot; I'll
come down。〃
He walked back to the waiting row; smiling quizzically。
〃Well; you calamity howlers; what do you think of it?〃
Nobody answered; but everybody looked expectant。
〃Think he'd shoot?〃 inquired Orde of Tom North。
〃I know he would;〃 replied North earnestly。 〃That crazy…headed kind
are just the fellers to rip loose。〃
〃I think myself he probably would;〃 agreed Orde。
〃Surely;〃 spoke up Newmark; 〃whatever the status of the damage
suits; you have the legal right to run your logs。〃
Orde rolled a quizzical eye in his direction。
〃Per…fect…ly correct; son;〃 he drawled; 〃but we're engaged in the
happy occupation of getting out logs。 By the time the law was all
adjusted and a head of steam up; the water'd be down。 In this game;
you get out logs first; and think about law afterward。〃
〃How about legal damages?〃 insisted Newmark。
〃Legal damages!〃 scoffed Orde。 〃Legal damages! Why; we count legal
damages as part of our regular expenseslike potatoes。 It's lucky
it's so;〃 he added。 〃If anybody paid any attention to legal
technicalities; there'd never be a log delivered。 A man always has
enemies。
〃Well; what are you going to do?〃 persisted Newmark。
Orde thrust back his felt hat and ran his fingers through his short;
crisp hair。
〃There you've got me;〃 he confessed; 〃but; if necessary; we'll pile
the old warrior。〃
He walked to the edge of the dam and stood looking down current。
For perhaps a full minute he remained there motionless; his hat
clinging to one side; his hand in his hair。 Then he returned to the
grimly silent rivermen。
〃Boys;〃 he commanded briefly; 〃get your peavies