Grace Harlowe\'s Overland Riders in the Great North Woods

J >> Jessie Graham Flower >> Grace Harlowe\'s Overland Riders in the Great North Woods

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"That'll do, Hen. These soft-hearted folk ain't goin' to let ye chaw the
gentleman up to-day, but, if ever I set eyes on either of the scum agin,
I'll give the varmints what's comin' to 'em, and I'll do it sudden-like,
and I'll do it so it stays done, and there won't be nobody to stop me
next time. If ye don't believe it, jest give me the chance. And to think
I had to waste a perfectly good pot of coffee on that timber-robber's
head. He's a skin and a tight-wad, and I'll bet my month's wage that he
robs the birds of their eggs to save the price of keepin' a hen of his
own."

"Please! Please," begged Grace laughingly. "Which one of the pair do you
mean?"

"Both of 'em. They ain't here for no good. Wait till I tell ye what they
did and ye'll see--"

"Just a moment. Tell it to all of us," urged Grace, leading the irate
woman and her tame bear up to her companions.

"Why did you stop them, Grace?" growled Hippy. "First fun we've had
since Emma discovered the animal under the table. What's the joke, old
dear?"

The forest woman was so angry over her recent experience that she forgot
to chide Hippy for his familiarity.

"Matter? Matter enough. As I was sayin' to Miss Gray, them varmints
ain't here for no good, and ye ain't heard the last of 'em by a long
shot. They'll be back. Take Joe Shafto's word for that, and they won't
be back alone, 'cause they're too big cowards. Yaller streaks in both of
'em. I'll bet the pair of 'em was trying to get this timber lot away
from ye. Don't ye have no dealin's with 'em. Don't want no truck with
them kind of cattle, and I'll tell ye right now that if they show their
yaller faces 'round here agin, I'll set my Henry on 'em for keeps." Mrs.
Shafto gasped for breath preparatory to entering on a fresh tirade, when
Tom Gray, embracing the opportunity, got in a question.

"Suppose you tell us what the row was about. What was it?" he asked.

"The varmints tried to bribe me, that's what."

"Bribe you!" exclaimed the Overlanders in chorus.

"That's what I said."

"Why didn't you take it?" demanded Hippy. "That was easy money."

"To do what?" questioned Elfreda, her professional interest instantly
aroused.

"To find out what ye paid for the section and just what ye opined ye'd
do with it. They reckon ye're holdin' it on 'spec' and that they kin git
it fer a little mor'n ye paid for it. If they can't do that, I opined
from what the varmints said, that they'd git the property some other
way. Wanted me to find out just what yer plans was and to writ' 'em down
and leave 'em in a holler log up next the dam above the one ye're
buildin'."

"What did you say to that?" questioned Elfreda.

"I sicked Henry on 'em and soaked the guide feller with part of the
breakfast. I'd a done a heap more if I'd had the time."

"How much did they offer you?" inquired Emma interestedly.

"Two dollars and a half, and said they'd leave as much more after they
got what they wanted."

"Two dollars and a half!" exclaimed Hippy. "And you refused two dollars
and a half? Why, old dear, that's a fortune. I am amazed that they
should have been so liberal. Positively reckless, I should say. Discard
such riches? It is unbelievable."

"When were they to call for this information?" questioned Miss Briggs.

"They didn't say. I was to leave it there, that's all," growled Joe,
stalking to her breakfast fire and resuming her operations there.

"Would it not be a good plan to have Willy Horse watch the log and see
if he can give our 'friends' a scare?" asked Grace.

"Yes, but Willy is inclined to be violent," laughed Tom. "You saw what
happened to Ainsworth and his guide when they sneaked up to our camp
last night, didn't you? Next time the Indian might do something rash.
What do we care, who or what? The property is ours and we are going
ahead with our plans. We shall soon put in a portable mill at the mouth
of the river, float our logs down and saw them there where the lake
steamers can pick up the lumber. Let the disappointed ones rage if they
wish."

The forest woman, having pressed the dents out of her damaged coffee pot
and prepared a fresh supply of coffee, now summoned the Overlanders to
breakfast, which was a somewhat hurried meal, for Tom and Hippy were
eager to get out to direct the work on their dam, which already was
moving along satisfactorily, and which they hoped to finish in about
another week.

Following breakfast, the girls saddled their ponies, packed luncheons in
their mess kits and started down the river for a day's outing by
themselves, leaving Joe Shafto at home. The party returned just before
dark, Elfreda Briggs proudly exhibiting a duck that she had shot on the
lower river. After supper, for which all hands had keen appetites, Hippy
announced that Willy Horse had been appointed official hunter for the
lumber outfit at seventy-five dollars a month, which meant riches to the
Indian. It would be Willy's duty to provide fresh meat for the
lumberjacks. Added to this, the Indian would shoot wolves and collect
the bounty, and, when not otherwise engaged, act as the faithful
watchdog for the Overland Riders.

"You Big Friend," was Willy's only comment when informed of his new job,
but they observed that he puffed more vigorously at his pipe, and gazed
more intently into the fire than usual.

"Do you see things in the fire?" questioned Emma, sitting down by the
Indian.

He nodded.

"Tell me what you see," she urged in a confidential tone.

"See white girl fly like bird."

The girls broke into a merry peal of laughter.

"He has your measure," laughed Tom.

"See owl up tree. Mebby come see white girls," added the Indian, and
then, to their amazement, the raucous voice of an owl was heard in the
branches high above their heads. The owl continued his hoarse night
song, the Overland girls interestedly watching Emma Dean's rapt
expression as she listened.

"He is trying to say something," she half-whispered, holding up a hand
for silence. "He is speaking, perhaps, of the mysteries of the
universe--our immediate universe."

"Yus-s-s-s," observed Hippy solemnly. "Tell me, I prithee, little
bird-woman, what is the wise old owl saying? Has he a message for me?"

"Yes. And I can tell you what it is. He says, 'you simp, you simp, you
simp, you simp-simp.' Interpreted freely, this means, in addition to the
truth of the owl's wise assertion, that you have gathered all the
ingredients of a calamity, but you don't know it. Beware, Hippy Wingate,
of dire things to come!" finished Emma, amid a shout of laughter. The
Indian puffed on his pipe in stolid silence.

CHAPTER XXII

WHEN THE DAM WENT OUT

In the two weeks that had passed since Wingate & Gray started their
operations on the Little Big Branch, wonders had been accomplished. A
modern camp for the lumberjacks had been constructed, and the dam had
been completed to the extent of permitting them to close the gates and
let water accumulate there.

On the day that marked the completion of the work, the Overland girls
arranged to show their appreciation of what the jacks had done by giving
them a surprise party. This party, first suggested as a dinner, after
much discussion was changed to an old-fashioned dancing party, which the
girls thought the men would enjoy more than they would a dinner.

Just before they sat down to their supper, the lumberjacks were
"tipped" to finish the meal as quickly as possible and slick themselves
up, because the Overland party was coming over to call, and Captain Gray
to give them a brief "spiel," as Hippy expressed it in telling the men
to get ready. The jacks received the word without comment; in fact they
received it somewhat sullenly. Hippy, however, knew the lumberjack
tribe by this time--knew their peculiar ways--and told the girls to go
ahead with their plans.

Darkness had settled over the Big North Woods when Hippy rallied his
flock for the party, each girl spruced up for the occasion, Emma Dean's
face wreathed in smiles in anticipation of the good time that was in
prospect. The only member of the outfit who remained behind was the
forest woman, who flatly refused to associate with "them varmints,"
meaning the lumberjacks. Henry, laboring under no such scruples,
followed the Overlanders as they set out for the lumberjacks' shack.
Any unusual activity, especially one that gave promise of food,
instantly aroused Henry's curiosity, so, in this instance, he was close
at the heels of the party when they filed into the bunk-house, where he
nosed about smelling of the bunks, of the tables and sniffing the air,
following which he sat down where he could command a view of the entire
room.

The lumberjacks shook hands awkwardly with their guests, except that
Spike merely made a move to do so, then quickly withdrew his hand and
shoved it into the pocket of his Mackinaw. Hippy acted as master of
ceremonies, and, after waving jacks and guests to seats, cleared his
throat, and made a complimentary speech.

"Captain Gray got stage fright at the last minute and told me that I
must tell you what he wished you to know," he said. "I'm not going to
make a speech, but what I am to say is, that when we get through with
this job Mr. Gray and myself have decided to declare a dividend. That
is, we are going to give each one of you men who started out with us,
and who have done such fine, loyal work, a good-sized cash bonus. I
perhaps don't need to tell you that I never made a speech in my life--so
my friends say--but money is a loud talker; so, at the end of the
season, we'll let money tell you how much we appreciate the good work
you fellows have done."

Henry, who sat blinking at Lieutenant Wingate, at this juncture rolled
over, and, curling up, went to sleep.

"You see," cried Hippy. "Even the bear goes to sleep when I talk." The
men gave three cheers for Wingate & Gray, and three more for the
Overland girls. "Help us get these tables out of the way, you fellows.
We are going to have some music. Speech making is ended."

Nora Wingate was already conferring with the "fiddler." Then, as the
tables were moved to one side, Nora launched into a lively song that she
had sung to the doughboys in France, the fiddler accompanying her on his
violin. There were rough spots in the fiddling, but these Nora submerged
in the great volume of her fine contralto voice. The song finished, the
men howled for more and stamped on the floor. Nora sang again.

"We will now have a dance," announced Grace. "You boys will please act
natural, and for goodness sake don't step on our toes with those hob-nail
boots. Choose your partners."

Not a jack moved.

"Help me haul 'em out, Tom," cried Hippy, yanking a big Canadian to the
floor and standing him up beside Nora Wingate. Tom did a similar service
for another one, and in a few seconds five lumberjacks, red of face,
shifting uneasily on their feet, were standing beside their partners on
the dance floor.

"Hit it up, Mr. Fiddler," called Tom, whereupon the fiddler began sawing
the strings of his violin and calling off for the dance, a square dance,
and soon the crash of hob-nail boots on the board floor made the shack
tremble, the fiddler beating time with his foot.

Had it not been that the Overland girls knew the dance they never could
have followed the fiddler's calls.

"Shinny on the corners," "Gents all forw'd," "Sling yer pardner," "Up
and down the travoy," "Dozey-dozey," "Smash 'em on the finish," was the
way he called off, the latter call bringing the feet of the lumberjacks
down in a series of bangs that threatened the collapse of the floor.
Outside, hovering over a little Indian fire, Willy Horse smoked
stolidly, his ears attuned, not to the music and the shuffling feet, but
to the sounds of nature, and to sounds that did not belong in nature's
scheme of things.

"Let's have a waltz," cried Hippy exuberantly.

Grace shook her head.

"No waltzes," she answered. "Square dances will do very well. The
dancing is rough enough as it is without our being spun to dizziness,"
she added in a lower tone.

"What do you want, Hippy Wingate?" demanded Anne. "This surely is rough
enough work, isn't it? The fellows are doing the best they can, but they
are not used to dancing with women. It is a great party, just the same."

"Can't be beat," agreed Hippy.

"I think Willy is trying to attract your attention," interrupted Miss
Briggs, as she swept past Hippy in the dance.

Glancing towards the door, Lieutenant Wingate saw the Indian framed in
the open doorway. Willy Horse made no sign, but his intent gaze was full
of meaning. Hippy strolled leisurely to the door.

"Evening, Willy. Come in and have a dance or something to eat," greeted
Hippy cordially. In a lower tone he asked, "Anything wrong?"

"Mebby! You come. No speak here."

The Indian turned away, and Hippy followed him casually until well out
of sight of the dancers.

"Now what is wrong?" demanded the Overland Rider in a brisk tone.

"You hear big noise?"

Hippy shook his head.

"Can't hear anything above the smashing of the lumberjacks' boots."

"Me hear. Big noise up river--boom--boom--boom! Listen! What you hear?"

"It sounds like wind in the tops of the trees," answered Hippy after a
moment of listening.

"No wind. Willy know."

"What is it, then?"

"Water! Dam up-river go out. Water come down! Mebby logs come down,
too!"

"What! The dam built by the timber-thieves? It isn't possible. There is
not enough water in the dam to cause the roar I hear."

"Plenty water. You fix gates so dam fill up. You know."

"That's so." Hippy ran down to the river to listen, still doubting
Willy's assertion that the timber-thieves' dam had burst out.

The Indian had followed and stood silently beside his listening
companion, his own ears listening to the distant murmur. Willy, however,
did not need to listen. He knew!

"I don't believe it is water that we hear," muttered Lieutenant Wingate.

"Him water," muttered the Indian. "Moon come up. Good!"

The moon at full, after being hidden from view for nearly a week, rose
above the tops of the trees, thinning the darkness that lay heavy on the
river, the full light not yet having reached the Little Big Branch at
that point. Hippy shaded his straining eyes and gazed upstream. All
seemed peaceful in that direction, but he suddenly realized that the
sound he had heard was increasing in volume. He could now hear a
succession of hollow reports, the meaning of which he could not fathom.
He asked his companion what it meant.

"Logs him jump up in water. Knock together and make big noise."

Hippy suddenly visualized the scene that the Indian's brief words had
pictured.

"Watch it! I'm going for help!" cried Hippy, sprinting for the shack. As
he neared it the familiar sounds of the earlier evening greeted his
ears. The fiddler was still sawing away; the bang of hob-nailed shoes on
the floor of the shack resounded rhythmically, and Hippy thought, as he
ran, of the weariness that the Overland girls must feel after their
strenuous evening of constant dancing with the rough and ready
lumberjacks who knew neither fatigue for themselves nor for their
entertainers.

Reaching the doorway, Hippy caught Tom Gray's eye and beckoned to him.

"Yes?" questioned Tom eagerly as he stepped over to Lieutenant Wingate.

"Willy says the dam has gone out. I can't tell whether it has or not,
but it sounds that way."

"What dam?" demanded Tom Gray.

"That up-river dam of the timber-pirates. You remember we shut the gates
to keep the water below it low while we were driving the spiles for our
dam."

Tom ran out into the open and stood listening. A moment of it was all
that was necessary to tell him what had happened.

"Quick! The gates. We must get our gates open or we're lost!"

The two men sprinted for the river, Tom in the lead, Hippy a close
second. He wondered why he had not thought of the gates, and chided
himself for his stupidity.

"Come fast!" called Willy, referring to the rushing flood that now had
become a sullen roar.

"Call out the jacks. Hurry!" ordered Tom.

Willy flashed away. Tom paused only for an instant to listen and
estimate how much time they had before the flood would be upon them.

"Are you game for it, Hippy?" he demanded.

"For what?"

"To help me get the gates up?"

"Yes."

"Come on then, and watch your footing," shouted Tom, running out on the
top log that formed the cap on top of the spiles. The footing was
slippery, but not ordinarily perilous. Now, in the face of that which
was hurtling down upon them, their undertaking was a desperate one.
Neither had on his spiked boots, which, in a measure, would have aided
them in keeping their footing, and they slipped and stumbled, and
sprawled on all fours again and again.

Being so familiar with the operation of the gates that they had planned
and built, they had no difficulty in finding the gate-levers, but these
were heavy, necessarily so, operating somewhat after the manner of a
sweep in an old-fashioned well.

Tom and Hippy threw themselves upon one of the two big levers that
operated the gates, and began tugging with all their strength. In the
meantime Willy Horse had reached the lumberjacks' bunk-house.

"Dam go out! Water come down!" he shouted to make himself heard. "Big
Boss say come quick."

The fiddler ceased playing, and the dancers gazed at the Indian, not
fully understanding.

"Water come down! Come quick! Run!"

This time they understood. Uttering a shout the jacks burst out through
the narrow doorway, and ran for the river, followed by the Overland
girls on flying feet, and meeting Joe Shafto on the way to the scene of
the disaster.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE RIOT OF THE LOGS

"We'll have to be quick!" shouted Tom to make himself heard above the
roaring of the waters. "Beardown hard!"

"I can't. I'm slipping!" gasped Hippy.

"The gates are moving! Keep it up!"

The two men struggled and fought, gaining a few inches at a time but not
enough to permit the jam of logs that was rushing down the stream to
pass through the gates in the flood.

At this juncture the Overland girls and the jacks came running down the
bank. They saw the two men struggling with the gates, and at the same
instant they saw something else. In the reflected light of the moon,
they saw a white crest sweeping around a bend in the river, hurling logs
into the air, which came tumbling and shooting ahead like huge black
projectiles. A warning scream from the girls was unheard by either of
the struggling men. A dozen lumberjacks leaped to the cap-log to go to
the assistance of Tom and Hippy, who they knew were in great peril.

"Come back! Boys, come back! You can't help them now," cried Grace in an
agony of apprehension.

"The fools! Why don't they run?" raged Joe Shafto, and the pet bear
growled in sympathy with her at the unusual sounds.

It was a terrifying moment for those who could do no more than stand
helplessly watching. The jacks by this time were well out on the
cap-log, with Willy Horse in the lead and red-headed Spike close at his
heels. They were suddenly halted by a report that sounded like an
explosion of heavy artillery.

An advance log, rushing straight towards the gates, swerved when within
a few feet of them, and, rearing half its dripping length, hurled itself
against the gate-lever at which Hippy and Tom were tugging.

Both saw the giant rise from the boiling flood.

"Too late! Save your--" Tom did not finish. Hippy and Tom at that
instant were catapulted into the air, hurled by the gate-lever, and fell
into the river below the dam with a splash.

Without an instant's hesitation, Willy Horse, followed by Spike, leaped
to the rescue, knowing well that only a few seconds lay between them and
the cataract of logs that was about to tumble over into the Little Big
Branch below the dam.

The rest of the jacks hesitated only for an instant, then they too
leaped into the river and made their way towards Tom and Hippy, both of
whom were unconscious. Willy Horse grabbed up Hippy with apparent ease,
and raised him to his own back just as he would shoulder a dead deer.

"Git Big Boss!" he shouted, and began struggling shoreward with his
burden.

In the meantime Spike had sprung to Tom Gray, but despite his great
strength he did not succeed in shouldering Tom.

"Give a hand here!" he bellowed.

The lumberjacks reached him at this juncture and, together, Spike and
his companions brought the unconscious man towards the shore.

Then the spiling gave way under the strain that for several minutes had
been put upon it, and the dam went out with a crash and a roar,
accompanied by a series of terrifying explosions.

It would have been an awesome sight to the Overland Riders had not their
attention, at that moment, been centered on the lumberjacks. The jacks
reached the shore only a few seconds before the structure gave way and
the logs, hurtled into the air, fell splashing into the flood below the
dam. Hippy and Tom were borne up the bank and laid on the ground.

"Are--are they dead?" gasped Emma.

"No," answered Miss Briggs, who had placed a finger on the pulse of
each.

"Please carry them to the bunk-house," directed Grace in a strained
voice, after Willy Horse had run quick fingers over the heads of the two
victims.

"Big Friends bump heads! Much all right soon, mebby," he grunted,
walking along beside Hippy as the jacks started with him and Tom towards
the house.

It was but a short time after their arrival there, however, when both
regained consciousness. Neither Tom nor Hippy knew whether they had been
hit by the log that struck the gate-lever, or whether they had been made
unconscious by their fall into the water. Both came to in a severe chill
and were put to bed in the bunk-house, warmed with hot drinks and
blankets, and soothed until they fell asleep.

The lumberjacks stood about awkwardly, and the Indian hovered near, his
stolid face reflecting no emotion. Spike was the only jack present who
apparently was indifferent to the scene. At midnight Willy motioned to
the girls to go.

"Me watch. Big Friends wake up morning. No sick," he said.

"Willy's suggestion is a good one," agreed Elfreda. "There is little the
matter with either except shock and exhaustion. Let's go!"

Grace nodded.

"Boys, we thank you very much," she said, turning to the lumberjacks.
"Mr. Wingate and Mr. Gray would have lost their lives had it not been,
for you and Willy. They will not forget. Neither shall we. Good-night."

At dawn when Hippy awakened, Willy Horse was still sitting by him,
puffing his pipe.

"Dam go out," observed the Indian between puffs.

"So I heard it rumored," yawned Hippy.

"Big Friend go out."

"Seems to me that I heard something about that too. How is Captain
Gray?"

"Other Big Friend all right."

"Are the jacks awake?" asked Hippy.

"Git up now."

"Tell them to come here."

When the half-dressed lumberjacks came over to his cot, Hippy eyed them
sternly.

"You're a fine bunch of ladies' men, aren't you? Dance the light
fantastic while your bosses are trying to save the dam."

The jacks grinned sheepishly.

"What are you loafing around here for? Why don't you get out and start
work on a new dam? You needn't think a little thing like a busted dam is
going to stop Wingate & Gray. Go on now! You know what to do. We two are
the only ones who've got a right to be lazy this morning. Wait a
moment! Come back here!" commanded Hippy as his men started to go away.

"I take back what I said. You aren't ladies' men at all. You are a bunch
of confounded rough-necks. Shake paws!" Hippy put out a hand, but was
sorry for it afterwards, for the bear-like grips of the lumberjacks
left it a "pulp," as Hippy Wingate expressed it.

Work on a new dam was begun that very day. Tom and Hippy, though lame
and sore, and, at odd moments, a little dizzy, were at the dam all day
long directing the work of clearing away the wreck while part of their
force cut fresh spiles in the woods. The lumberjacks, wet to the skin,
worked with tremendous force and to good purpose, for the organization
that Tom Gray had developed and systematized, was as near a perfectly
working machine as it was humanly possible to make it.

Day after day the work progressed, but despite their best endeavors two
weeks and a half had passed before the gates were again lowered to test
the new dam's power to resist a full head of water. Several days more
were required to fill the dam until the surplus water toppled over the
"dashboard."

For another twenty-four hours the dam was watched for indications of
weakness, but none developed. Now that the big work was completed Tom
and Hippy journeyed to the wrecked dam of the timber-pirates. They
examined what was left of it with great care. Finishing their
investigation, the two men looked at each other with eyes full of
meaning.

"Well, what do you think of it?" questioned Hippy.

"I think, Hip, that it was something more than structural weakness that
caused this dam to go out," answered Tom.

"What do you think did it--I mean how was it done?" wondered Lieutenant
Wingate.

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