Thet's happenin' right now all along these numerous small
creeks."
But McGivins had cut his timber near a river that could float not only
loose logs but rafts, and in a small lake-like basin hemmed in by
cliffs and separated by a gorge from the river he had gathered them and
bound them into three large rafts. Only such a stage as came with the
"tide" would convert the gorge into a water-way out, and only then wen
the great dam built across it had been dynamited.
Now came this flood, infinitely more powerful than the ordinary rise of
spring. The dam was threatened and must be strengthened and raised
higher. If it gave way, he too must "kiss his logs good-bye."
As the city man speculated on the odds against him Old Man McGivins
himself materialized at his elbow. His lips were tight-set and his
brow was furrowed. For him the situation savored of impending tragedy.
These trees had been reluctantly felled from a virgin tract of forest
heretofore unscarred by the axe, and they had been his long-hoarded
treasure. He had held on to them much as a miser holds to his savings
because he loved them.
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