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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"Someone got left last spring," he said upon his return to his
companions. "Those logs were cut last winter, but the water in the river
last spring was evidently too low to float them down, so they must stay
where they are until next spring awaiting the freshets. The blocks will
then be knocked from under the skidway and those hundreds of thousands
of feet of timber will go thundering down into the river. You will
observe that they have cut a channel or 'travoy,' as it is called,
through which the logs will roll after leaving the skidway, and pass on
to the stream. This 'travoy' is pretty well grown over with second
growth, but the logs will roll the growth down, and when they do you
would think that all the tremendous forces of nature had been let
loose."

By this time the camp was nearly finished, and the tents of the
Overlanders looked like tiny doll houses under those giant pines, and in
this, the very heart of nature, in the silence and the grandeur of it
all, the girls felt a deep sense of something that they could not
define, which left them disinclined to laugh or chatter.

Soon after dark the sky became overcast, the pines began dripping
moisture, and a gentle breeze was heard murmuring in the tops of the
trees.

"Come, little nature child! What are the wild winds in the tree-tops
saying?" teased Hippy, breaking an awed silence of several minutes.

"I--I don't rightly know," answered Emma, after listening intently to
the whisperings in the pines. "I--I think that the message they are
trying to convey to me--to us--is a warning of something to come,
something that is near at hand. I wish Madam Gersdorff were here. She
could read the warning and tell us what peril it is that is hovering
over us."

Nora uttered a shrill peal of laughter.

"Don't," begged Anne.

"You've got a bad attack of the willies," groaned Hippy in a tone of
disgust that brought a half-hearted laugh from his companions, though,
had they been willing to admit it, they too felt something of the
depression that was reflected in Emma Dean's face and voice.

Work on the camp finished, the Overland Riders put out the fire and
turned in, Henry rolling himself up into a furry ball, Hindenburg
snuggling down between Tom and Hippy. Only forest sounds, now faint and
far away, marred the solemn impressive stillness of the Big North Woods,
a stillness that was destined to be rudely interrupted ere the dawn of
another day.

CHAPTER VII

FELLED BY A MYSTERIOUS BLOW

When Grace awakened late in the night the feeling of oppression with
which she had gone to sleep still lay heavy upon her. The faint soughing
of a breeze in the tree tops, the light thuds of falling pine cones,
were the only sounds to be heard outside of the breathing of her
companions who were sleeping soundly.

Suddenly her ears caught a distant roar, and a few drops of rain
pattered on the tent.

"It is going to storm," murmured Grace. "I hope no dead limbs fall from
the trees on our camp." Pulling the blankets over her head to shut out
the sounds she tried to go to sleep, but sleep would not come, so Grace
uncovered her head and lay listening.

The wind seemed to die down for a while, but it soon sprang up with
renewed strength, and was sweeping violently over the tops of the pines,
which were creaking and groaning under the strain. A distant crash told
of some forest giant that had gone down under the blast; then the rain
fell, a deluge of it, which finally beat through the little tents and
trickled down over the sleeping Overland girls.

"Are you all right in there?" called Tom from the outside.

"Yes, but we are getting wet. Is it going to last long?" asked Grace.

"Not being able to get a view of the sky, I can't say positively. It
seems like only a shower to me."

"Wait a moment. I'll join you."

Grace hurriedly dressed and, throwing on her rubber coat, stepped out.

"I don't just like the way some of these trees are acting," said Tom.
"Perhaps you haven't noticed how the ground is heaving."

"Yes I have, but I did not know that it meant anything alarming."

"It shows that the wind is throwing a great strain on the trees and that
there is too much play in the roots for the good of the trees--and
ourselves," he added. "I hope our supplies do not fall down under the
whipping they are getting."

The provisions had been slung in sacks from a rope strung between two
trees, about ten feet above the ground, to keep them out of reach of
Henry and other prowling animals.

"How long have you been up?" asked Grace.

"Half an hour or so. I went up to the ridge to the rear of the camp,
thinking that I had heard something unusual going on up there, but
hurried back when the rain started. What I heard must have been the
trees creaking."

They listened to the storm for several minutes, Tom Gray trying to
interpret the sounds.

"Awaken the girls!" he directed, acting upon a sudden resolution. "Get
them out as quickly as possible." Tom had heard a sound coming from the
ridge that stirred him into quick action. "Tell them to fetch the
blankets and our rifles. We mustn't lose any of those things."

"Will you call Hippy and Joe?"

"Yes, yes. Hurry!"

"Turn out!" shouted Tom at the opening of Hippy's tent. "Be lively.
Blankets and weapons with you."

"Wha--at, in this storm?" wailed Hippy.

"Better get wet than get killed," retorted Tom, springing over to Joe
Shafto's tent. Joe answered his hail with a sharp demand to know what he
wanted.

"Pile out as quickly as possible. We are likely to have trouble. And
call your bear off."

Henry was sniffing at Tom's heels and growling ominously, but he obeyed
the incisive command of his master and retired to his position in front
of her tent.

The girls, he found, were already out of their tents, blankets over
their heads, all shivering in the chill rain, all too cold to speak
except Emma Dean.

"I--I to-o-old you something was go-going to happen," she stammered.
"The v-v-v-voice of nature to-o-old me so."

"N-n-n-nature is an old fogy," jeered Hippy mockingly. "Nothing has
happened and I don't know why we have been dragged out into this rotten
storm."

"Follow me and watch your step," directed Tom tersely. He led the way to
the river and along its bank to the tethering ground. "Lead your ponies
to a safer place, further up the stream," he ordered.

This hurried departure from their camp was a good deal of a mystery to
the Overland Riders. They did not understand why, nor did Tom Gray tell
them.

"Hippy, help me tie the horses," he said, after having gone several rods
further up stream. "One at a time with the ponies, folks, then go make
yourselves as comfortable as possible under the bluff of the bank. The
bushes there will offer you more protection from the wind and rain than
the trees would."

Shortly thereafter Tom and Hippy joined their shivering companions, and
the party, with blankets stretched over their heads, huddled miserably
as they sat on the wet ground under the blanket roof, Hindenburg on
Hippy's lap, and Henry outside in the rain licking the water from his
dripping coat of fur.

"How are you, J. Elfreda?" teased Grace.

"Saturated and satiated," answered Miss Briggs briefly.

"I wonder what the voices of nature are saying at the present moment?"
mused Hippy. "If they feel anything like I do, their remarks are more
forceful than elegant."

"Even if you were to hear them you would be mo wiser," observed Emma.
"Only persons with unusual minds can read the messages that nature
conveys."

Someone under the blanket roof giggled, and Hippy articulated "Ahem!"

"As I was about to say--What's that?" he exclaimed sharply.

A boom, that reminded all who heard it of the explosion of a
high-powered shell at a distance, smote the ears of the Overland Riders.
Then a succession of resounding reports and terrific crashings shook the
earth.

"Stay where you are!" shouted Tom Gray as, with single accord, the girls
sprang to their feet and started to run. They halted at sound of Tom's
voice.

Something from the air struck the ground with a thud, and Hippy Wingate
toppled over against Elfreda Briggs and sank down, uttering a faint
moan.

"Hippy's hurt! Something hit him. Quick, Tom! Show a light!" cried Miss
Briggs.

Tom Gray flashed a ribbon of light from his pocket lamp and sprang to
his companion.

"Hippy! Hippy!" he begged.

Nora uttered an anguished wail, and in an instant her arms were about
Lieutenant Wingate's neck.

"Let go and give him air," commanded Tom.

Hippy lay as he had fallen, half on his side, one arm doubled under his
head. A red welt across his forehead showed where the blow that felled
him had fallen.

The reverberating crashes that had shaken the earth were dying out and
now seemed much further away than at first.

CHAPTER VIII

THEIR FIRST DISASTER

"Oh, what has happened?" begged Anne tremblingly.

"The logs went out," answered Tom briefly.

"Di--did a log hit Hippy?" questioned Emma.

"I don't know what hit him. Fetch water," directed Tom, who was fanning
the unconscious Hippy with his hat.

Joe Shafto had run down to the stream and, at this juncture, came up to
them with a hatful of water, which she handed to Tom. Grace took Tom's
hat from him and did the fanning while her husband was bathing Hippy's
face. The rain had become a misty drizzle and the wind had died out
entirely, but the trees were dripping moisture that soaked into the
clothing of the Overland Riders more effectively than had the downpour
of a few moments before.

It was nearly half an hour before Lieutenant Wingate regained
consciousness, and it was some little time later before he could hold a
sitting position, for his head was swimming.

"Had we better not get him under his tent?" asked Grace.

"If there is a tent left, yes. You folks will remain right here until I
return. I am going over to the camp," replied Tom.

"Is there danger?" questioned Grace anxiously.

"I think not. I shall not be gone more than a few minutes."

Tom took his pocket lamp with him, leaving the Overlanders in the dark,
for their own lamps were in their packs in the tents. Tom, however, came
back inside of fifteen minutes.

"How is the camp?" asked Elfreda.

"There isn't any camp," answered Tom.

"Wha--at?" gasped the Overlanders.

"It hit me and went on into the river," groaned Hippy. "Voice of
nature," he added in a mutter, but no one laughed.

"Our camp was pitched in the travoy way. The storm loosened the supports
of the skidway and let the logs down. Several hundred thousand feet of
them rolled over our camp and mashed it flat. A good part of the timber
went on into the river. The rest of it is scattered all the way along
the travoy."

"What! All our provisions gone?" wailed Hippy.

"No. They were strung up high enough to be out of the way," spoke up
Grace.

"You are wrong, Grace," differed Tom. "A log must have ended up and
broken the rope. At least the rope is broken and most of our supplies
appear to have been carried away. We are now back to first principles.
We must either go back for fresh supplies or live as the forest wanderer
lives, rustling for our grub as we go along. The first thing to be done
is to build a fire."

"Fine! I should like to see you do that with everything soaking wet,"
laughed Elfreda.

"We shall see," replied Tom. "What we need first of all is light so we
may see what we are about."

After searching about, Tom found an old uptilted log which he proposed
to use as a "backlog" for a fire. He next roamed about with his lamp,
hunting for a dead pine tree leaning to the south. He explained that the
wood and bark on the under side of such a tree would be reasonably dry
and would make excellent fuel. He found one that had been shivered by
lightning, and from the south side of this he chopped off bark and
chips. The girls carried these to the fallen uptilted tree.

In the meantime, the guide had searched for and found several pine
knots. From these Tom whittled shavings from their less resinous ends,
leaving the shavings on the sticks. He set these knots up like a tripod
under the fallen tree, small ends down and the shavings touching.

"We will now strike a match and you shall see whether or not we know how
to build a fire under present conditions. Grace, how do you think you
would strike a match with nothing dry to strike it on?" he teased.

"I do not believe I should strike it," answered Grace.

"Hold your hat over me," he directed, getting down on his knees. Tom
placed the head of the match between his teeth and jerked the match
forward through the teeth, cupped the match in his hands until the flame
of the match ran up its stick, whereupon he applied it to the shavings.

The pine knots flickered, then flamed up, snapping and shooting out
little streamers of reddish fire. Bark and splinters from the leaning
tree were placed about the knots, and in a few moments they had a
cheerful fire.

"Cut two saplings and spread the blanket for a backing," said Tom,
nodding to the guide.

Joe sharpened one end of each sapling and forced them into the ground
back of the log, and on the saplings she stretched one of the wet
blankets.

"Girls, in all our campaigning we haven't learned much, have we?"
demanded Anne. "Had it not been for Tom we should have sat all night in
misery and wetness. I think we are going to learn something on this
journey."

"It strikes me that we have already learned a few things," observed Miss
Briggs.

Lieutenant Wingate recovered rapidly, and when able he began searching
about to discover what had hit him but could find nothing.

The clothing of the party under the influence of that red-hot fire soon
dried out, and the spirits of the Overland Riders rose in proportion.
Acting upon Elfreda's suggestion that they make an effort to salvage
their supplies, Tom and Hippy prepared pitchpine torches, and all hands
repaired to the scene of their late camping place.

"Look! Oh, look!" cried Emma, as they came within sight of it. Not a
vestige of the camp was left. Logs lay about everywhere, some almost
standing on end. Young trees were broken off short, bushes laid flat as
if a tornado had swept over the scene, and here and there the trunks of
giant trees were scarred where the bark had been torn off by logs coming
in contact with them.

"Think what might have happened to us had we not got out in time,"
murmured Anne.

"We should have been mashed flat," agreed Emma. "How terrible!"

"That is what comes from listening to the voice of nature," chuckled
Hippy.

"Here are some of our provisions," called Grace, who had been clambering
over the logs, peering under them and feeling about among the pine
cones. She uncovered a dozen or so cans of food, all dented, some mashed
out flat, and while she was doing this Elfreda discovered some badly
battered mess kits.

Hippy salvaged a chunk of bacon on the river bank, and others found
widely scattered remnants of their supplies, including some that had
been swept into the river which had not floated away.

"This will keep us going until we can replenish our larder," finally
announced Grace. "After daybreak we shall undoubtedly find more of our
belongings. The tents, however, seem to have been destroyed. I found a
few pieces of canvas, but that was all. I am glad we saved our
blankets."

"By the way, Mrs. Shafto, where is Henry?" asked Nora.

"Henry!" cried Joe.

"If Henry is wise he will be found up a tree," chuckled Hippy.

"Henry! Henre-e-e-e-e!" called the forest woman. "Oh, Henre-e-e-e-e-e!
Here, Hen, Hen, Hen, Hen! Come here, I tell ye! Hen, Hen, Hen, Hen,
Hen!"

"Crow! Maybe that will fetch Hen," suggested Hippy, and the Overland
girls shouted.

"Don't ye make fun of me!" raged the forest woman, striding over to
Hippy and shaking a belligerent fist before his face. "I give ye notice
that Joe Shafto kin take care of herself and her bear, and she don't
need no advice from a greenhorn like yerself." Hippy backed away, the
woman following him and still shaking her fist, and the more the girls
laughed the angrier did Joe get.

"That's all right, old dear. Don't get excited," begged Hippy, trying to
soothe the irate woman.

"What? Old dear! Don't ye call me old dear. I ain't yer old dear nor yer
young dear. Ain't ye ashamed of yerself to speak to yer betters that
way, and 'specially to a woman of my years? I'll larn ye to be civil and
to mind yer own business!" Joe gave the embarrassed Hippy a sound box on
one ear, then on the other. "Take that, and that," she cried. "Next time
I'll use the club on ye!"

Each blow jolted Hippy's head.

"Mrs. Shafto! Please, please! We can't have any such actions in this
outfit," rebuked Grace. "Lieutenant Wingate did not mean to offend you,
and you must learn to be a good fellow and take as well as give if you
are going to stay with this outfit. If you think you cannot, now is the
time to say so."

"Do ye want me to git out?" demanded Joe, glaring at Grace.

"Indeed we do not. We wish you to remain, to be a good fellow, to share
in our pleasures and take the unpleasant features in the spirit of the
Overland Riders. Do you think you can do this?" Grace smiled as she said
it.

"I reckon yer right, Miss Gray," decided the forest woman after a
moment's pondering and glaring through her spectacles at Grace.

"Thank you. Nora, suppose you lead Hippy to one side--by the ear--and
read him a little lecture," suggested Grace.

"I'll do that," agreed Nora Wingate. "Hippy, my darlin', you come with
me. I'll fetch a stout stick and I'll make you think of home and
mother."

Even Joe Shafto laughed as Nora playfully led Hippy away by an ear. They
found them half an hour later sitting by the fire where Nora was still
lecturing her irrepressible spouse.

"I've reformed, Mrs. Shafto," called Hippy as he saw them approaching.
"I was mistaken in thinking you were my dear. You aren't. Henry is your
dear."

"I don't know whether he is or not. I'm afraid Henry loped away when the
logs came down. I'll track him when it gets light enough to see."

All was peace in the Overland camp again, and, while they were waiting
for daylight, Tom and Hippy hammered their mess kits back into shape
with an axe, greatly to the amusement of their companions. As the
graying skies finally brought out in relief the tops of the trees,
Elfreda, who had been gazing up at them, uttered a sudden exclamation.

"What is that up there?" she exclaimed. "It looks like an animal."

"It's my Henry!" shouted the guide. "Come down here, ye beast! Come
down, I say. Henry, do ye hear me?"

Henry plainly did, but he took his time about obeying, and it was not
until the light became stronger that he made a move to descend. After
reaching the last of the lower limbs of the tree, Henry slid the rest of
the way down, dislodging the bark with his claws, a little shower of
bark sifting over Joe, who was waiting at the base of the tree to
welcome her pet. This she did in characteristic fashion when he reached
the ground, by giving him a few light taps with her ever-ready club.

Henry slunk away and sat down by himself to brood over his troubles,
Hindenburg from a safe distance eyeing the bear, a dark ruff showing
along his pugnacious little back.

Mrs. Shafto began the preparation of breakfast immediately after
recovering her bear. While she was doing this, the light now being
strong enough to permit, Tom climbed the bank to examine the skidway
from which the logs had swept down over their camp. Tom remained up
there until the loud halloos of his companions informed him that
breakfast was ready. The forester returned to his camp slowly and
thoughtfully.

"Find anything up there?" questioned Hippy, giving him a quick glance of
inquiry.

Tom nodded.

"The tents?" asked Elfreda.

"Naturally not up there," he replied, sitting down on a blanket and
taking the plate of bacon that Elfreda handed to him.

"Out with it," laughed Grace. "It always is reflected in your face when
there is anything weighty on your mind."

"Having something on one's mind is more than all of us can boast,"
chortled Hippy. "I might mention names were it not that I am too polite
to do so," he added, grinning at Emma, who flushed.

"At least I did not get my ears boxed," she retorted. "Mrs. Shafto
served you just right, though I think we all regret that, while about
it, she did not make a finished job of it."

"That subject is closed," reminded Miss Briggs.

"Hippy, don't you say another word," warned Nora Wingate, and, after the
laugh had subsided, they looked at Tom.

"I went up to examine the skidway," he said. "What I found there fully
confirmed the vague suspicions that were already in my mind."

"Eh?" interrupted Hippy, leaning forward expectantly.

Elfreda nodded, as if Tom had confirmed her own conclusions.

"It was not wholly the rain that dislodged the supports of the logs,
folks," resumed Tom.

"No--ot rain?" exclaimed Hippy, blinking at his companion.

"Not rain," repeated Tom. "Human hands loosened the supports that sent
the great pile of logs down on the camp of the Overlanders," he declared
impressively.

CHAPTER IX

LUMBER-JACKS SEEK REVENGE

"Same old game," grumbled Hippy.

"What makes you think that the skidway was tampered with?" questioned
Anne, after the exclamations following Tom's startling assertion had
subsided.

"Because the evidence is there. Even a novice could read the signs left
there. In spots, I found the imprints of rubber boots. I also found four
canthooks, used for rolling logs."

Hippy suggested that these might have been left when the lumbermen
stopped work in the early spring, but Tom shook his head.

"No. They were new, which indicates that they were brought to this place
within a few days--probably within the last few hours, for the hooks did
not have a single point of rust on them."

"But, Tom! I cannot understand how moving that tremendous weight in bulk
was possible for a handful of men," wondered Grace.

"Jacks can do anything they wish with logs," answered Tom Gray. "In this
instance they called on nature for assistance, and fickle nature lent
them a hand by sending them rain. The ground too, I discovered, had been
dug out under the lower side of the skidway and the supports knocked
out."

"The varmints!" growled Joe Shafto, who had been an attentive listener
to Tom's story.

"The jacks shifted some logs around to act as a track to give the logs
on the skidway a good start down the bank; they further cleared a
channel lower down so that the water might undermine the skidway still
more, then, when the trap was properly set, undoubtedly gave the top of
the pile a start with their hooks. I can't describe it so you people,
unfamiliar with logging operations, can get the picture clearly."

"I think you do very well," answered Emma wisely. "Of course, Hippy
could improve upon it, but fortunately he is not telling the story."

"Do you know of any early lumber operations near here, Mrs. Shafto?"
asked Tom.

The guide said she did not, but that the woods were often full of
cutters late in the fall and in the early winter.

"Section Forty-three was goin' to start cuttin' on the first of this
month I heard, but I don't know whuther they did or not," she said.

Tom Gray consulted his forestry map and nodded.

"We will look in on them, so I believe I shall stay with you until the
day after to-morrow. In the meantime I shall have another look at the
skidway while you people are packing up," he said, rising.

"What shall we do without tents?" questioned Anne anxiously.

"Do nicely. When we make camp this afternoon Mrs. Shafto and I will show
you. I do not think it advisable to head directly for Forty-three, but
to camp in the vicinity of that section, as I shall wish to speak with
the foreman of the gang there."

"Reckon ye know what ye wants to do," nodded the guide.

When Tom returned from the skidway he smiled and shook his head in
answer to the question in Grace's eyes.

"Nothing further," he said briefly.

"You should have been an Indian," laughed Grace.

"Should have been? He is," averred Hippy.

Not a shred of canvas large enough to cover a mess plate was found in
the ruins of their camp, and, as soon as they had assembled and packed
what was left of their equipment, the party went on without tents. After
luncheon that day they turned off from the lumber trail and struck out
into the densely timbered land, Joe following her course by certain old
blazes on trees. Traveling there was much slower than it had been on the
open lumber trail, but the Overlanders made satisfactory time, and
covered nearly twenty miles before they halted to prepare their camp for
the night.

It lacked three hours of nightfall then, so Tom Gray decided to go over
to Section Forty-three and have his talk with the foreman of that lumber
camp. It was an hour-and-a-half later when he returned, flushed and
angry.

"Well?" questioned Grace.

"I learned that a dozen jacks came in from Bisbee's Corners last night,
but when I asked that they be lined up to see if I could identify any of
them as belonging to the mob that attacked us at Bisbee's, the foreman
threatened to set the whole outfit of jacks on me. He said he was not
running a detective bureau and that he didn't give a rap what his jacks
did so long as they got out timber."

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