CHAPTER XXV
DRIFT-LOGS
The following week was very stormy. The rain drove up from the south,
and the river rose rapidly. The ice, now greatly weakened, slowly
stirred before its final rush to the sea. Then the moment arrived when
it started forward, impelled by the gathering mass up-stream. All day
long it surged onward, and far on into the night, carrying along trees,
and stones, ripping and grinding, demolishing a wharf here, or
up-rooting a tree there. No power of man could stop it. People stood
on the shore watching the sight, familiar, and yet always new. The
last sign of winter had now departed, and all knew that in a few hours
the first steamer of the season would be on her way up-river.
With the ice, and following it, came the drift-logs. In a number of
cases booms had been broken, and the work of months ruined in an
instant. For a hundred miles or more these logs were scattered along
the river, drifting with the tide, caught in coves, and mouths of
creeks, or stranded upon the shore. To collect as many of these as
possible was a big task. Yet it was important, for these logs
represented much money, and their entire loss would spell ruin to some
lumbermen.
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