AFLOAT ON THE RIVER RAFT
AS the milder weather settled down to stay, Don began thinking of the
river and the fun of watching the piled up logs gradually sink down into
the water, so he spoke to Dot about it.
"Let's go down to the river on Saturday morning and play," suggested he.
"Oh, it's awful far, Don, an' we won't get back to dinner," objected
Dot.
"We'll get Cookee to give us something to eat and we can walk slowly so
you won't get tired. The roads are all cut out now, and there is no
snow," persisted Don.
"All right. I'll go. Goin' to bring the others?"
"'Course not!" retorted Don.
Saturday morning was warm and clear and Don ran into Cookee's kitchen
after breakfast with a request for some lunch as Dot and he were going
to have some fun. Cook willingly gave lunch--glad to have the twins out
of the way for the morning while the baking was done.
Don and Dot hurried off without being seen by anyone. Mike had kept an
eye on them since their escapade of the Jumpin' Jane, but he was busy
showing Babs the bear cub's sharp white teeth and warning the baby
about playing with them when no one else was about.
The timber-jacks were cutting way back beyond the road that ran past the
clearing, and the twins had every opportunity to get down to the river
without being seen. Even the road that had been cut from the forest to
the river was now abandoned by the teamsters, for they had cut a new
road some miles the other side of the old one and had it paved with logs
to keep the wheels of the low truck from sinking into the soft thawing
earth.
It took the twins some hours to gain the river-side, for the walking was
troublesome. In some places where the ice and snow still clung to the
exposed knolls, it was slippery, but in others, where the thaw had
melted the frost and poured its waters into the glades, they had to
skirt the pools or go through them. Consequently, by the time they
reached the river, they were tired and wet to the knees.
"Ah! here we are at last!" cried Dot, as she sat down to rest.
"Come up on this tall heap of logs," said Don, scrambling up to the top
of a twenty foot pier.
The children sat there looking all about the country with delight. The
air was warm enough to be comfortable, and the river looked wonderful
with the swift current pouring down the center and huge blocks of ice
floating up against the banks or being whirled into the stream by
suction of the current.
"Great, isn't it!" exclaimed Don.
"Yes, but I wouldn't want to be on one of those cakes of ice," shivered
Dot.
"Neither would anyone!"
"I'll tell you what I would like to play," said Dot.
"What?" asked Don.
"I'd play I was one of the river-men with a peavie an' I'd try to push
the logs down in the river," said Dot, looking down at some logs lying
halfway in the water.
"How could we manage--let me see! We could get out on that raft and
stand on that to push the logs out," suggested Don.
"Sure! We'll pull the raft up to the bank by the chains, an' then push
her out again with our peavies."
So the two scrambled down from the logs and hunted about for two long
sticks that would answer for the peavies the timber-jacks used. After
finding two desirable poles, the twins ran down to the river to pull in
the raft.
This was not quite so easy as it would seem, for the logs were
water-soaked after a long winter in the water, but after a long tiresome
haul they brought the raft near enough to board it by climbing out over
a huge cake of ice.
"But we can't reach the logs from here!" cried Dot, finding that they
were on the other side of the ice-cake.
"We'll have to shove that iceberg out into the river," said Don, looking
about for the best channel to work through.
"Let's push our raft up behind it and then we can push the ice easier,"
advised Dot.
This was sensible, so both children pushed their peavies into some
smaller ice floes and managed to move the ponderous raft into a position
so the large ice-floe could be moved. The ice was thick and the weight
of it made it sink down low in the water, but after many breathless
efforts it was moved out of the way far enough to permit the twins to
work the raft in closer to shore. Here they met with a new difficulty,
for the logs were still clinging to the ground with frost and were not
to be coaxed into the water.
"If we only had cant-hooks so we could yank them in!" sighed Dot.
"Guess I'll have to jump ashore and try to tip one of those top logs
down," said Don, looking up at the pile they had sat upon.
"Pooh! you can't budge them a mite! It takes two men with hooks to pull
them out," said Dot.
Nevertheless, Don made up his mind to get _one_ log in the river at any
cost. He couldn't stand the thought of being defeated by an inanimate
log.
He found that, the large ice-floe being out of the pathway to shore, he
would have to jump from one small cake to another and follow the bank of
the river until he reached a small land-jetty about fifty feet down
stream.
This he did while Dot watched him breathlessly, expecting every moment
to see the ice sink and slide him into the stream.
Don reached the bank in safety and then ran back toward the place where
the raft was anchored. Before he reached the place, however, he stopped
and looked with interest at some attraction on the bank. Dot saw him
stop but could not see what it was as the logs all along the edge of the
river hid the object from view.
After a few minutes, he ran on to the narrow landing where they had
boarded the raft.
"Say, Dot, there are lots of logs lying almost in the water down there
by that crooked tree. If we could move that raft down there we could
have lots of fun floating them out to the current," said Don.
"That's easy to say--move the raft! How can you move anything that's
chained as this is?" asked Dot, disgustedly.
"I don't know! Let me think!"
Don crawled in under the tier of logs to the place down at the edge of
the river where the chain of the raft ran ashore. He pulled the chain up
as it lay slack in the water and found that the loop on shore was thrown
about a low stump of pine that was left sticking out of the bank, almost
hidden by the high pile of logs over it.
"Ha! if I can haul the raft in a few feet, while you push with your
stick, I can lift this chain off of the stump," called Don, showing Dot
how the raft was fastened.
Dot began pushing and Don pulled until the heavy raft floated in shore
far enough for Don to drag the chain off the stump.
The raft, released from its moorings, moved slightly out toward the
former position, the chain slipping into the water and dragging behind.
Don was satisfied with the result of his idea and ran down to the spot
where the logs could be readily edged into the water if the small ice
floes were out of the way. He pushed and worked at the ice until a clear
pathway of water lay before the logs. Those in the edge of the water,
were easily shoved out, but the others were too heavy to budge.
"Hi, there! Dot, shall I bring out the lunch for the raft?" called Don,
as he bethought him of going back to Dot.
"Yes, an' hurry up, 'cause I think this raft is movin' some toward the
river!" replied Dot, anxiously.
"Ah, naw, she ain't! She's only swirling about a bit in the motion of
the water!" said Don.
He ran and got the lunch and then tried to jump from one cake of ice to
another just as he did when he went ashore. But he found that going
ashore against the current was much easier than going out with the
current, for every cake of ice he jumped upon shot out from under his
feet with the river current.
As he was halfway over, he had to continue or leave Dot alone on the
raft. That was entirely out of his plans, so he used his pole to push
himself over as near to the large ice-floe as possible. The cake of ice
he was on was small enough to be submerged every time Don pushed his
pole against anything, and by the time he was able to jump on the large
ice-floe his feet and legs were soaking wet again. Once up on the large
floe, Don felt relieved for a fear had assailed him when he found he
couldn't jump the small cakes.
"Push the raft over to me--I can't make this floe budge!" called Don.
So Dot shoved the pole against a mass of ice and moved the raft over
toward Don's floe. As soon as he could jump, he came on the raft and the
two felt better for being together.
"I'm hungry, aren't you?" said Don, taking the lunch from his pockets.
"Yes; let's have lunch now, and play river-men after," returned Dot.
As they sat munching the lunch the motion of the wavelets under the
raft, dancing it up and down, made them laugh.
The ice-floe stuck close to them after Don jumped from it, and they
never noticed that the floe and raft were slowly floating out from
shore.
A sudden jar of the raft against another huge ice-floe that came down
stream made them take notice of their greater distance from shore.
"Gee! Dot, we have floated out more'n ten feet from the bank!" said Don,
looking about doubtfully.
"So we have! We'd better pole back again," said Dot.
Without another word, both children tried to pole back, but they were
working against the current that had begun to take hold of the ice-floe
and raft.
The ice-floe was so deep down in the water that the current that ran
underneath drew it along. But the raft being on the surface was not so
easily carried. Don thought for a few seconds.
"Dot, if we try to push that floe off we won't be dragged along with it.
She's doin' all the mischief!"
So both children turned their effort to shoving off the ice-floe and
soon succeeded in moving it beyond the reach of the poles. As they
watched it being caught gradually by the river current, Don whispered
to his sister.
"Now, let's get back as quickly as we can!"
But the poles were too short now to touch bottom, and there were no ice
cakes about to offer the necessary resistance.
"What now?" asked Dot, looking at Don with full understanding of their
dangerous position.
"What would you advise?" said Don, looking at the dark water.
"Can we swim ashore?" asked Dot.
"Nope! not in this current. Besides the water's as cold as ice, you
know. We'd have cramps in a minute."
Silence for some time, while each one thought of some way to escape from
the raft.
"I know! Pull up the chain from the water and let's sling it over
something on shore as soon as we float opposite!"
"Ain't that just like a girl! Why, Dot, I thought that bein' my twin
you'd have more sense than that!" replied Don, disdainfully.
True to her feminine nature, however, Dot lay down flat upon the raft
and hauled in the chain with the loop at the end.
"You can't fling it 'cause it's too heavy, and the raft will float out
further all the time--not toward shore!" objected Don, as he watched.
Dot was still down on the raft but Don was standing up when, suddenly,
an immense ice-floe coming down stream struck another one and shot out
toward shore striking the corner of the raft such a blow that Don
measured his full length out on the logs. The raft was partially
submerged but was shoved out of the way of the floe, and left within a
few feet of the bank.
"Hurrah! Now we can pole back!" yelled Don, scrambling to his feet to
snatch his pole. He looked about but the pole had been washed off when
the corner of the raft went under water.
"Hi, there, Dot, gim'me yours--quick!" cried Don, as he saw the raft
slowly turn about and go out into the current again.
Dot rolled off of her pole, upon which she had been lying, thereby
saving it from the water.
Don pushed and pushed for all he was worth and managed to propel the
clumsy raft further toward shore. Every foot made it easier, for the
water was shallower and the current less. Within a few feet of shore,
Dot flung her chain out, bound to have her way about a rescue. As the
chain shot out, Dot slipped on the wet logs, and fell into the water.
Don was stupefied for a moment, but Dot had great presence of mind and
was going to swim when she felt a solid foundation two feet under
water. She managed to stand up and called to Don:
"See, I'm standing on something hard. Guess it's logs!"
As it was on one side of the raft, Dot held on to the edge of the raft
and felt her way along the hard logs under water until she reached the
extreme end of the raft. Here she let go and slowly shoved her foot
ahead of her until she felt the water getting shallower as she proceeded
toward shore. She was now but five feet from the bank where a huge pine
log had fallen end-wise into the river. She climbed up and held on to
the rough bark, scrambling, hand over hand, along the trunk until she
reached the towering pile from which the pine had rolled.
Don saw the way to go ashore, and immediately sat down on the edge of
the raft and slid off into the water just where Dot had held on to the
corner of the raft. He also felt the hard logs underneath and crept
along until he reached the pine-tree.
As soon as he was up beside his sister, they looked at each other and
heaved a mighty sigh.
"The raft's skidding," said Dot, pointing out to the water.
Don looked; sure enough, the raft must have been caught in a side
current and sent down stream.
"That tumble of mine was the best thing I did!" grinned Dot.
"Yes! an' if you hadn't slung that chain ashore you wouldn't have
tumbled into the water," admitted Don.
"Say, Don, how do you s'pose those logs are kept under water?" asked
Dot, wondering about her escape.
After a few moments silence, Dot said, "Don, I guess I'm just a little
bit cold. These things won't dry out here!"
"So'm I--let's go home!"
So the two trudged home, cold, forlorn, and hungry.
"That's the first time I got left when I made up my mind to do
anything!" grumbled Don, as the camp was reached.
"We didn't get left! the river wanted to gobble us, and _it_ got
left--just because I knew enough to fling that chain!" said Dot; the
latter half of her sentence was given with a grin at her brother.
"Mercy sakes alive! where _have_ you two been to get so wet!" cried Mrs.
Latimer, meeting the twins.
"We were playing and fell into the water!" was all Don said, and no one
ever knew the narrow escape the twins had from being whirled down the
dreadful river, and, perhaps, drowned.
They were soon hustled into dry clothing and made to drink hot lemonade
with plenty of ginger in it.
No unpleasant effects were felt from the drenching as every one of the
children were too hardy from the outdoor life to take cold easily.
The very next day, Sunday, the weather grew so warm that everything was
dripping. The timber-men found it impossible to cut more that season and
started to get ready for the logging on the river. Cookee was ready to
move on with the men, and the two families finished packing and were
ready to start back to civilization early Tuesday morning.
The cubs were shipped off Monday morning with the trunks.
Mike almost cried as he said good-bye to the children, but he had had a
fine winter's income, and the sale of the cubs would give him enough
money to keep him with care, in old age.
As the carry-all, filled with children and the ladies, started out of
camp, the timber-men waved their hats and yelled after the disappearing
vehicle, making the children feel that they were leaving good friends
behind.
So the Five Little Starrs left their Winter Camp in the Canadian Forest
and went home. We next hear of them in the book "Five Little Starrs on a
Motor Tour."
THE END
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Page 9, "disstance" changed to "distance" (for the same distance)
Page 10, "freind" changed to "friend" (to meet an old friend)
Page 51, "eveyone" changed to "everyone" (while everyone laughed)
Page 98, "musn't" changed to "mustn't" (No, you mustn't)
Page 102, repeated word "in" deleted (that wood in)
Page 159, "stoods" changed to "stood" (Babs stood gaping)
Page 227, "childred" changed to "children" (word, both children)