At nine o'clock one morning Bobby Orde, following an agreement with his father, walked sedately1 to the Proper Place, where he kept his cap and coat and other belongings2. The Proper Place was a small, dark closet under the angle of the stairs. He called it the Proper Place just as he called his friend Clifford Fuller, or the saw-mill town in which he lived Monrovia--because he had always heard it called so.
At the door a beautiful black and white setter solemnly joined him.
"Hullo, Duke!" greeted Bobby.
The dog swept back and forth3 his magnificent feather tail, and fell in behind his young master.
Bobby knew the way perfectly4. You went to the fire-engine house; and then to the left after the court-house was Mr. Proctor's; and then, all at once, the town. Father's office was in the nearest square brick block. Bobby paused, as he always did, to look in the first store window. In it was a weapon which he knew to be a Flobert Rifle. It was something to be dreamed of, with its beautiful blued-steel octagon barrel, its gleaming gold-plated locks and its polished stock. Bobby was just under ten years old; but he could have told you all about that Flobert Rifle--its weight, the length of its barrel, the number of grains of both powder and lead loaded in its various cartridges6. Among his books he possessed7 a catalogue that described Flobert Rifles, and also Shotguns and Revolvers. Bobby intoxicated8 himself with them. Twice he had even seen his father's revolver; and he knew where it was kept--on the top shelf of the closet. The very closet door gave him a thrill.
Reluctantly he tore himself away, and turned in to the straight, broad stairway that led to the offices above. The stairway, and the hall to which it mounted were dark and smelled of old coco-matting and stale tobacco. Bobby liked this smell very much. He liked, too, the echo of his footsteps as he marched down the hall to the door of his father's offices.
Within were several long, narrow desks burdened with large ledgers9 and flanked by high stools. On each stool sat a clerk--five of them. An iron "base burner" stove occupied the middle of the room. Its pipe ran in suspension here and there through the upper air until it plunged10 unexpectedly into the wall. A capacious wood-box flanked it. Bobby was glad he did not have to fill that wood-box at a cent a time.
Against the walls at either end of the room and next the windows were two roll-top desks at which sat Mr. Orde and his partner. Two or three pivoted11 chairs completed the furnishings.
"Hullo, Bobby," called Mr. Orde, who was talking earnestly to a man; "I'll be ready in a few minutes."
Nothing pleased Bobby more than to wander about the place with its delicious "office smell." At one end of the room, nailed against the wall, were rows and rows of beautifully polished models of the firm's different tugs14, barges15 and schooners16. Bobby surveyed them with both pleasure and regret. It seemed a shame that such delightful17 boats should have been built only in half and nailed immovably to boards. Against another wall were maps, and a real deer's head. Everywhere hung framed photographs of logging camps and lumbering18 operations. From any one of the six long windows he could see the street below, and those who passed along it. Time never hung heavy at the office.
When Mr. Orde had finished his business, he put on his hat, and the big man, the little boy and the grave, black and white setter dog walked down the long dark hall, down the steps, and around the corner to the livery stable.
Here they climbed into one of the light and graceful20 buggies which were at that time a source of such pride to their owners, and flashed out into the street behind Mr. Orde's celebrated21 team.
Duke's gravity at this juncture22 deserted23 him completely. Life now meant something besides duty. Ears back, mouth wide, body extended, he flew away. Faster and faster he ran, until he was almost out of sight; then turned with a whirl of shingle24 dust and came racing25 back. When he reached the horses he leaped vigorously from one side to the other, barking ecstatically; then set off on a long even lope along the sidewalks and across the street, investigating everything.
Mr. Orde took the slender whalebone whip from its socket26.
"Come, Dick!" said he.
The team laid back their pointed27 delicate ears, shook their heads from side to side, snorted and settled into a swift stride. Bobby leaned over to watch the sunlight twinkle on the wheel-spokes. The narrow tires sunk slightly in the yielding shingle fragments. _Brittle!_ _Brittle!_ _Brittle!_ the sound said to Bobby. Above all things he loved to watch the gossamer-like wheels, apparently28 too light and delicate to bear the weight they must carry, flying over the springy road.
At the edge of town they ran suddenly out from beneath the maple29 trees to find themselves at the banks of the river. A long bridge crossed it. The team clattered30 over the planks31 so fast that hardly could Bobby get time to look at the cat-tails along the bayous before blue water was beneath him.
But here Mr. Orde had to pull up. The turn-bridge was open; and Bobby to his delight was allowed to stand up in his seat and watch the wallowing, churning little tug13 and the three calm ships pass through. He could not see the tug at all until it had gone beyond the bridge, only its smoke; but the masts of the ship passed stately in regular succession.
"Three-masted schooner," said he.
Then when the last mast had scarcely cleared the opening, the ponderous32 turn-bridge began slowly to close. Its movement was almost imperceptible, but mighty33 beyond Bobby's small experience to gauge34. He could make out the two bridge tenders walking around and around, pushing on the long lever that operated the mechanism35. In a moment more the bridge came into alignment36 with a clang. The team, tossing their heads impatiently, moved forward.
On the other side of the bridge was no more town; but instead, great lumber19 yards, and along the river a string of mills with many smokestacks.
The road-bed at this point changed abruptly37 to sawdust, springy and odorous with the sweet new smell of pine that now perfumed all the air. To the left Bobby could see the shipyards and the skeleton of a vessel38 well under way. From it came the irregular _Block!_ _Block!_ _Block!_ of mallets; and it swarmed39 with the little, black, ant-like figures of men.
Mr. Orde drove rapidly and silently between the shipyards and the rows and rows of lumber piles, arranged in streets and alleys40 like an untenanted city. Overhead ran tramways on which dwelt cars and great black and bay horses. The wild exultant41 shriek42 of the circular saw rang out. White plumes43 of steam shot up against the intense blue of the sky. Beyond the piles of lumber Bobby could make out the topmasts of more ships, from which floated the pointed hollow "tell-tales" affected44 by the lake schooners of those days as pennants45. At the end of the lumber piles the road turned sharp to the right. It passed in turn the small building which Bobby knew to be another delightful office, and the huge cavernous mill with its shrieks46 and clangs, its blazing, winking47 eyes beneath and its long incline up which the dripping, sullen48 logs crept in unending procession to their final disposition49. And then came the "booms" or pens, in which the logs floated like a patterned brown carpet. Men with pike poles were working there; and even at a distance Bobby caught the dip and rise, and the flash of white water as the rivermen ran here and there over the unstable50 footing.
Next were more lumber yards and more mills, for five miles or so, until at last they emerged into an open, flat country, divided by the old-fashioned snake fences; dotted with blackened stumps51 of the long-vanished forest; eaten by sloughs52 and bayous from the river. The sawdust ceased. Bobby leaned out to watch with fascinated interest the sand, divided by the tire, flowing back in a beautiful curved V to cover the wheel-rim.
As far as the eye could reach were marshes53 grown with wild rice and cat-tails. Occasionally one of these bayous would send an arm in to cross the road. Then Bobby was delighted, for that meant a float-bridge through the cracks of which the water spurted54 up in jets at each impact of the horses' hoofs55. On either hand the bayou, but a plank's thickness below the level of the float-bridge, filmed with green weeds and the bright scum of water, not too stagnant56, offered surprises to the watchful57 eye. One could see many mud-turtles floating lazily, feet outstretched in poise58; and bullfrogs and little frogs; and, in the clear places, trim and self-sufficient mud hens. From the reeds at the edges flapped small green herons and thunder pumpers. And at last----
"Oh, look, papa!" cried Bobby excited and awed59. "There's a snap'n' turtle!"
Indeed, there he was in plain sight, the boys' monster of the marshes, fully12 two feet in diameter, his rough shell streaming with long green grasses, his wicked black eyes staring, his hooked, powerful jaws60 set in a grim curve. If once those jaws clamped--so said the boys--nothing could loose them but the sound of thunder, not even cutting off the head.
Ten of the twelve miles to the booms had already been passed. The horses continued to step out freely, making nothing of the light fabric61 they drew after them. Duke, the white of his coat soiled and muddied by frequent and grateful plunges62, loped alongside, his pink tongue hanging from one corner of his mouth, and a seraphic expression on his countenance63. Occasionally he rolled his eyes up at his masters in sheer enjoyment64 of the expedition.
"Papa," asked Bobby suddenly, "what makes you have the booms so far away? Why don't you have them down by the bridge?"
Mr. Orde glanced down at his son. The boy looked very little and very childish, with his freckled65, dull red cheeks, his dot of a nose, and his wide gray eyes. The man was about to make some stop-gap reply. He checked himself.
"It's this way Bobby," he explained carefully. "The logs are cut 'way up the river--ever so far--and then they float down the river. Now, everybody has logs in the river--Mr. Proctor and Mr. Heinzman and Mr. Welton and lots of people, and they're all mixed up together. When they get down to the mills where they are to be sawed up into boards, the logs belonging to the different owners have to be sorted out. Papa's company is paid by all the others to do the floating down stream and the sorting out. The sorting out is done in the booms; and we put the booms up stream from the mills because it is easier to float the logs, after they have been sorted, down the stream than to haul them back up the stream."
"What do you have them so far up the stream for?" asked Bobby.
"Because there's more room--the river widens out there."
Bobby said nothing for some time, and Mr. Orde confessed within himself a strong doubt as to whether or not the explanation had been understood.
"Papa," demanded Bobby, "I don't see how you tell your logs from Mr. Proctor's or Mr. Heinzman's or any of the rest of them."
Mr. Orde turned, extending his hand heartily66 to his astonished son.
"You're all right, Bobby!" said he. "Why, you see, each log is stamped on the end with a mark. Mr. Proctor's mark is one thing; and Mr. Heinzman's is another; and all the rest have different ones."
"I see," said Bobby.
The road now led them through a small grove67 of willows68. Emerging thence they found themselves in full sight of the booms.
For fifty feet Bobby allowed his eyes to run over a scene already familiar and always of the greatest attraction to him. Then came what he called, after his Malory, the Stumps Perilous69. Between them there was but just room to drive--in fact the delicate points of the whiffle tree scratched the polished surfaces of them on either hand. Bobby loved to imagine them as the mighty guardians70 of the land beyond, and he always held his breath until they had been passed in safety.
Shying gently toward each other, ears pricked71 toward the two obstacles, the horses shot through with pace undiminished and drew up proudly before the smallest of the group of buildings. Thence emerged a tall, spare, keen-eyed man in slouch hat, flannel72 shirt, shortened trousers and spiked73 boots.
"Hullo, Jim," said Mr. Orde.
"Hullo, Jack," said the other.
"Where's your chore boy to take the horses?"
"I'll rustle74 him," replied the River Boss.
Bobby drew a deep breath of pleasure, and looked about him.
From the land's edge extended a wide surface of logs. Near at hand little streaks75 of water lay between some of them, but at a short distance the prospect76 was brown and uniform, until far away a narrow flash of blue marked the open river. Here and there ran the confines of the various booms included in the monster main boom. These confines consisted of long heavy timbers floating on the water, and joined end to end by means of strong links. They were generally laid in pairs, and hewn on top, so that they constituted a network of floating sidewalks threading the expanse of saw-logs. At intervals77 they were anchored to bunches of piles driven deep, and bound at the top. An unbroken palisade of piles constituted the outer boundaries of the main boom. At the upper end of them perched a little house whence was operated the mechanism of the heavy swing boom, capable of closing entirely79 the river channel. Thus the logs, floating or driven down the river, encountered this obstruction80; were shunted into the main booms, where they were distributed severally into the various pocket booms; and later were released at the lower end, one lot at a time, to the river again. Thence they were appropriated by the mill to which they belonged.
Bobby did not as yet understand the mechanism of all this. He saw merely the brown logs, and the distant blue water, and the hut wherein he knew dwelt machinery81 and a good-natured, short, dark man with a short, dark pipe, and the criss-cross floating sidewalks, and the men with long pike poles and shorter peavies moving here and there about their work. And he liked it.
But now the chore boy appeared to take charge of the horses. Mr. Orde lifted Bobby down, and immediately walked away with the River Boss, leaving with Bobby the parting injunction not to go out on the booms.
Bobby, left to himself, climbed laboriously82, one steep step at a time, to the elevation83 of the roofless porch before the mess house. The floor he examined, as always, with the greatest interest. The sharp caulks84 of the rivermen's shoes had long since picked away the surface, leaving it pockmarked and uneven85. Only the knots had resisted; and each of these now constituted a little hill above the surrounding plains, Bobby always wished that either his tin soldiers could be here or this well-ordered porch could be at home.
The sun proving hot, he peeped within the cook-house. There long tables flanked each by two benches of equal extent, stretched down the dimness. They were covered with dark oil-cloth, and at intervals on them arose irregular humps of cheese cloth. Beneath the cheese cloth, which Bobby had seen lifted, were receptacles containing the staples86 and condiments87, such as stewed88 fruit, sugar, salt, pepper, catsup, molasses and the like. Innumerable tin plates and cups laid upside down were guarded by iron cutlery. It was very dark and still, and the flies buzzed.
Beyond, Bobby could hear the cook and his helpers, called cookees. He decided89 to visit them; but he knew better than to pass through the dining room. Until the bell rang, that was sacred from the boss himself.
Therefore he descended90 from the porch, one step at a time, and climbed around to the kitchen. Here he found preparations for dinner well under way.
"'Llo, Bobby," greeted the cook, a tall white-moustached lean man with bushy eyebrows91. The cookees grinned, and one of them offered him a cooky as big as a pie-plate. Bobby accepted the offering, and seated himself on a cracker92 box.
Food was being prepared in quantities to stagger the imagination of one used only to private kitchens. Prunes93 stewed away in galvanized iron buckets; meat boiled in wash-boilers; coffee was made in fifty-pound lard tins; pies were baking in ranks of ten; mashed94 potatoes were handled by the shovelful95; a barrel of flour was used every two and a half days in this camp of hungry hard-working men. It took a good man to plan and organize; and a good man Corrigan was. His meals were never late, never scant96, and never wasteful97. He had the record for all the camps on the river of thirty-five cents a day per man--and the men satisfied. Consequently, in his own domain98 he was autocrat99. The dining room was sacred, the kitchen was sacred, meal hours were sacred. Each man was fed at half-past five, at twelve, and at six. No man could get a bite even of dry bread between those hours, save occasionally a teamster in the line of duty. Bobby himself had once seen Corrigan chase a would-be forager100 out at the point of a carving101 knife. As for Bobby, he was an exception, and a favourite.
The place was enthralling102, with its two stoves, each as big as the dining room table at home, its shelves and barrels of supplies, its rows of pies and loaves of bread, and all the crackle and bustle103 and aroma104 of its preparations. Time passed on wings. At length Corrigan glanced up at the square wooden clock and uttered some command to his two subordinates. The latter immediately began to dish into large receptacles of tin the hot food from the stove--boiled meat, mashed potatoes, pork and beans, boiled corn. These they placed at regular intervals down the long tables of the dining room. Bobby descended from his cracker box to watch them. Between the groups of hot dishes they distributed many plates of pie, of bread and of cake. Finally the two-gallon pots of tea and coffee, one for each end of each table, were brought in. The window coverings were drawn105 back. Corrigan appeared for final inspection106.
"Want to ring the bell, Bobby?" he asked.
They proceeded together to the front of the house where hung the bell cord. Bobby seized this and pulled as hard as he was able. But his weight could not bring the heavy bell over. Corrigan, smiling grimly under his white moustache, gave him advice.
"Pull on her, Bobby, hang yer feet off'n the ground. Now let up entire! Now pull again! Now let up! That's the bye! You'll get her goin' yit widout the help of any man."
Sure enough the weight of the bell did give slightly under Bobby's frantic107, though now rythmic, efforts. Nevertheless Corrigan took opportunity to reach out surreptitiously above the little boy's head to add a few pounds to the downward pull. At last the clapper reached the side.
_Cling!_ it broke the stillness.
"There you got her goin', Bobby!" cried Corrigan, "Now all you got to do is to keep at her. Now pull! Now let go. See how much easier she goes?"
The bell, started in its orbit, was now easy enough to manipulate. Bobby was delighted at the noise he was producing, and still more delighted at its results. For from the maze108 of his toil109 he could see men coming--men from the logs near at hand, men from the booms far away--all coming to the bell, concentrating at a common centre. By now the bell was turning entirely over. Bobby was becoming enthusiastic. He tugged110 and tugged. Sometimes when he did not let go the rope in time, he was lifted slightly off his feet. The sun was hot, but he had no thought of quitting. His hat fell off backward, his towsled hair wetted at the edges, clung to his forehead, his dull red cheeks grew redder behind their freckles111, his eyes fairly closed in an ecstasy112 of enjoyment. He did not hear Corrigan laughing, nor the gleeful shouts of the men as they leaped ashore113 and with dripping boots advanced to the expected meal. All he knew was that wonderful _clang!_ _clang!_ _clang!_ over him; the only thought in his little head was that he, _he_, Bobby Orde, was making all this noise himself!
How long he would have continued before giving out entirely it would be hard to say, but at this moment Mr. Orde and Jim Denning114 came around the corner with some haste. Both looked worried and a little angry until they caught sight of the small bell-ringer. Then they too laughed with the men.
But Mr. Orde swooped115 down on his son and tossed him on his shoulder.
"That'll do," he advised, "we're all here. Lord, Corrigan! I thought you were afire at least."
"You got to show us up a reg'lar Christmas dinner to match that," said one of the men to Corrigan.
After the meal, which Bobby enjoyed thoroughly116, because it was so different from what he had at home, he had a request to proffer117.
"Papa," he demanded, "I want to go out on the booms."
"Haven't time to-day, Bobby," replied Mr. Orde. "You just play around."
But Jim Denning would not have this.
"Can't start 'em in too early, Jack," said he. "I bet you'd been fished out from running logs before you were half his age."
Mr. Orde laughed.
"Right you are, Jim, but we were raised different in those days."
"Well," said Denning, "work's slack. I'll let one of the men take him."
At the moment a youth of not more than fifteen years of age was passing from the cook house to the booms. He had the slenderness of his years, but was toughly knit, and already possessed in eye and mouth the steady unwavering determination that the river life develops. In all details of equipment he was a riverman complete: the narrow-brimmed black felt hat, pushed back from a tangle118 of curls; the flannel shirt crossed by the broad bands of the suspenders; the kersey trousers "stagged" off a little below the knee; the heavy knit socks; and the strong shoes armed with thin half-inch, needle-sharp caulks.
"Jimmy Powers!" called the River Boss after this boy, "Come here!"
The youth approached, grinning cheerfully.
"I want you to take Bobby out on the booms," commanded Denning, "and be careful he don't fall in."
The older men moved away. Bobby and Jimmy Powers looked a little bashfully at each other, and then turned to where the first hewn logs gave access to the booms.
"Ever been out on 'em afore?" asked Jimmy Powers.
"Yes" replied Bobby; then after a pause, "I been out to the swing with Papa."
They walked out on the floating booms, which tipped and dipped ever so slightly under their weight. Bobby caught himself with a little stagger, although his footing was a good three feet in width. On either side of him nuzzled the great logs, like patient beasts, and between them were narrow strips of water, the colour of steel that has just cooled.
"How deep is it here?" asked Bobby.
"Bout5 six feet," replied Jimmy Powers.
They passed an intersection119, and came to an empty enclosure over which the water stretched like a blue sheet. Bobby looked back. Already the shore seemed far away. Through the interstices between the piles the wavelets went _lap_, _lap_, _slap_, _lap_! Beyond were men working the reluctant logs down toward the lower end of the booms. Some jabbed the pike poles in and then walked forward along the boom logs. Others ran quickly over the logs themselves until they had gained timbers large enough to sustain their weight, whence they were able to work with greater advantage. The supporting log rolled and dipped under the burden of the man pushing mightily120 against his implement121; but always the riverman trod it, first one way, then the other, in entire unconsciousness of the fact that he was doing so. The dark flanks of the log heaved dripping from the river, and rolled silently back again, picked by the long sharp caulks of the riverman's boots.
"Can you walk on the logs?" asked Bobby of his companion.
"Sure," laughed Jimmy Powers.
"Let's see you," insisted Bobby.
Jimmy Powers leaped lightly from the boom to the nearest log. It was a small one, and at once dipped below the surface. If the boy had attempted to stand on it even a second he would have fallen in. But all Jimmy Powers needed was a foothold from which to spring. Hardly had the little timber dipped before he had jumped to the next and the next after. Behind him the logs, bobbing up and down, churned the water white. Jimmy moved rapidly across the enclosure on an irregular zigzag122. The smaller logs he passed over as quickly as possible; on the larger he paused appreciably123. Bobby was interested to see how he left behind him a wake of motion on what had possessed the appearance of rigid124 immobility. The little logs bobbed furiously; the larger bowed in more stately fashion and rolled slowly in dignified125 protest. In a moment Jimmy was back again, grinning at Bobby's admiration126.
"Look here," said he.
He took his station sideways on a log of about twenty inches diameter, and began to roll it beneath him by walking rapidly forward. As the timber gained its momentum127, the boy increased his pace, until finally his feet were fairly twinkling beneath him, and the side of the log rising from the river was a blur128 of white water. Then suddenly with two quick strong stamps of his caulked129 feet the young riverman brought the whirling timber to a standstill.
"That's birling a log," said he to Bobby.
They walked out on the main boom still farther. The smaller partitions between the various enclosures were often nothing but single round poles chained together at their ends. On these Bobby was not allowed to venture.
"How deep is it here?" he asked again.
"Bout thirty feet," replied Jimmy Powers.
Bobby for an instant felt a little dizzy, as though he were on a high building. All this fabric on which he moved suddenly seemed to him unreal, like a vast cobweb in suspension through a void. It was a brief sensation, and little defined in his childish mind, so it soon passed, but it constituted while it lasted a definite subjective130 experience which Bobby would always remember. As he looked back, the buildings of the river camp, lying low among the trees, had receded131 to a great distance; apparently at another horizon was the dark row of piling that marked the outer confines of the booms; up and down stream, as far as he could see, were the logs. Bobby suddenly felt very much alone, with the blue sky above him, and the deep black water beneath, and about him nothing but the quiet sullen monsters herded132 from the wilderness133. He gripped very tightly Jimmy Powers's hand as they walked along.
But shortly they turned to the left; and after a brief walk, mounted the rickety steps to the floor of the hut where dwelt old man North, and the winch for operating the swinging boom. Old man North was short, dark, heavy and bearded; he smoked perpetually a small black clay pipe which he always held upside down in his mouth. His conversation was not extensive; but his black eyes twinkled at Bobby, so the little boy was not afraid of him. When he saw the two approaching, he reached over in the corner and handed out a hickory pole peeled to a beautiful white.
"The wums is yonder," said he.
Bobby put a fat worm on his hook and sat down in the opposite doorway134 were he could dangle135 his feet directly over the river. Where the shadow of the cabin fell, he could see far down in the water, which there became a transparent137 fair green. Close to the piles, on the tops of which the hut was built, were various fish. Jimmy leaned over.
"Mostly suckers," he advised. "Yan's a perch78, try him."
Bobby cautiously lowered his baited hook until it dangled138 before the perch's nose. The latter paid absolutely no attention to it. Bobby jiggled it up and down. No results. At last he fairly plumped the worm on top of the fish's nose. The perch, with an air of annoyance139, spread his gills and, with the least perceptible movement of his tail, sank slowly until he faded from sight.
"Better let down your hook and fish near bottom," suggested Jimmy Powers.
Bobby did so. The peace of warm afternoon settled upon him. He dangled his chubby140 legs, and tried to spit as scientifically as he could, and watched the waving green current slip silently beneath his feet. Beside him sat Jimmy Powers. The fragrant141 strong tobacco smoke from North's pipe passed them in wisps.
"I'd like to walk on logs," proffered142 Bobby at last, "It looks like lots of fun."
"Oh, that's nothin'," said Jimmy Powers, "You ought to be on drive."
The boys fell into conversation. Jimmy told of the drive, and the log-running. Bobby listened with the envy of one whose imagination cannot conceive of himself permitted in such affairs. He was entirely absorbed. And then all at once the peace was shattered.
"Yank him, Bobby, yank him!" yelled Jimmy.
"Christmas! he's a whale!" said old North.
For, without wavering, the tip of the hickory pole had been ruthlessly jerked below the water's surface, and the butt143 nearly pulled from Bobby's hands.
Bobby knew the proper thing to do. In such cases you heaved strongly. The fish flew from the water, described an arc over your head, and lit somewhere behind you. He tried to accomplish this, but his utmost strength could but just lift the wriggling144, jerking end of the pole from the water.
"Give her to me!" cried Jimmy Powers.
"Le' me 'lone," grunted145 Bobby.
He planted the butt of the pole in the pit of his stomach, and lifted as hard as ever he could with both hands. His face grew red, his ears rang, but, after a first immovable resistance, to his great joy the tip of the bending, wriggling pole began to give. Slowly, little by little, he pulled up the fish, until he could make out the flash of its body darting146 to and fro far down in the depths.
"Black bass147!" murmured Jimmy Powers breathlessly.
And then just as his size and beauty were becoming clearly visible, the line came up with a sickening ease. The interested spectators caught a glimpse of white as the fish turned.
Bobby let out a howl of disappointment.
"Oh _gee_, that's hard luck!" cried Jimmy Powers.
"Bet he weighed four pounds," proffered North curtly148.
But at this instant a faint clear whistle sounded from about the wooded bend of the river above.
"Boat coming," said North, "Clear out of the way, boys."
He began at once to operate the winch which drew the long slanting149 swing boom out of the channel, for the River was navigable water, and must not be obstructed150. In a moment appeared the _Lucy Belle_, a shallow-draught, flimsy-looking double decker, with two slim smokestacks side by side connected by a band of fancy grill-work, a walking beam, two huge paddle boxes and much white paint. She sheered sidewise with the current around the bend, and headed down upon them accompanied by a vast beating of paddle wheels. Bobby could soon make out atop the walking-beam, the swaying iron Indian with bent151 bow, and the piles of slabs152 which constituted the _Lucy Belle_'s fuel. Almost immediately she was passing, within ten feet or so of the hut. The water boiled and eddied153 among the piles, rushing in and sucking back. A fat, ruddy-faced man in official cap and citizen's clothes leaned over the rail.
"Well, you made her to-day," shouted North.
"Bet ye," called the man with a grin. "Only aground once."
The _Lucy Belle_ swept away with an air of pride. She made the trip to and from Redding, forty miles up the River, twice a week. Sometimes she came through in a day. Oftener she ran aground.
Now Bobby reverted154 to his original idea.
"I'd like to walk on the logs," said he.
"Well, come on, then," said Jimmy Powers.
They retraced155 their steps along the booms until near the shore.
"You don't want to try her where she's deep," explained Jimmy Powers, "'Cause then if you should fall in, the logs would close right together over your head, and then where'd you be?"
Bobby shuddered156 at this idea, which in the event continued to haunt him for some days.
"There's a big one," said Jimmy Powers. "Try her."
Bobby stepped out on a big solid-looking log, which immediately proved to be not solid at all. It dipped one way, Bobby tried to tread the other. The log promptly157 followed his suggestion--too promptly. Bobby soon found himself about two moves behind in this strange new game. He lost his balance, and the first thing he knew, he found himself waist deep in the water.
Jimmy Powers laughed heartily; but to Bobby this was no laughing matter. The penalties attached both by nature and his mother were dire136 in the extreme. He foresaw sickness and spankings158, both of which had been promised him in the event of wet feet merely, and here he was dripping from the waist down! In any other surroundings or with any other company he would have wept bitterly. Even in the presence of Jimmy Powers his lower lip quivered; and his soul filled to the very throat with dismay. Jimmy Powers could not understand his very evident perturbation. If took a great deal of explanation on Bobby's part; but finally there was conveyed to the young riverman's understanding a slight notion of the situation. To the child the day seemed lost; but Jimmy Powers was more resourceful. He surveyed his charge thoughtfully.
"You're all right, kid," he announced at last. "Your collar's all right, and your hair ain't wet. The rest'll dry out so nobody will know the diff'."
Bobby brightened.
"Won't I catch cold?" he asked doubtfully.
"This kind of weather? Naw!" said Jimmy Powers with scorn. "You rustle in to the cook shanty159 and get Corrigan to let you sit by the stove."
Bobby said farewell to his guide, and presented himself to the cook.
"I fell in," he announced, "can I sit by the stove?"
"Sure" said Corrigan hospitably160. "Take a cracker-box and go over by the wood box. Tryin' to ride a log?"
"Yes" confessed Bobby.
"Well, you want to look out for them," warned Corrigan a little vaguely161. He produced the customary cooky. Bobby sat and steamed, and munched162 and told about the fish he had almost caught. He liked Corrigan because the latter talked to him sensibly, without ill-timed facetiousness163, as to an equal. In a moment Duke thrust his muzzle164 in the door. Bobby looked hastily down. His clothes were quite dry.
"Don't tell Papa," he begged.
For answer Corrigan portentously165 winked166 one eye, and went on peeling potatoes. After a moment Mr. Orde appeared at the door.
"Bobby here?" he inquired. "Oh yes! Come on, youngster."
Bobby showed himself with considerable trepidation167; but apparently Mr. Orde noticed nothing wrong, and the little boy's spirits rose. The team was waiting, and they mounted the buggy at once. Duke fell in behind them soberly. For him the freshness of the expedition was over. It was now merely a case of get back home.
"Have a good time?" asked Mr. Orde.
Bobby talked busily all the way in. He told principally of the fish, although the _Lucy Belle_ and Jimmy Powers came in for a share. From time to time Mr. Orde said, "That's good," or, "Yes," which sufficed Bobby. Probably, however, the man heard little of his son's talk. His mind was very busy with the elements of the game he was playing, sorting and arranging them, figuring how to earn and borrow the money necessary to permit his taking advantage of a chance he thought he saw in the western timber lands. He heard little, to be sure, and yet he was in reality wholly occupied with the child prattling168 away at his side--with his fortune, and his business prospects169 of thirty years hence.
Under the maples170 the sun slanted171 low and golden and mote-laden. Bobby suddenly felt a little tired, and more than a little hungry. He descended from the buggy with alacrity172. The wetting was forgotten in the home-coming. Only when washing for dinner did he remember with certain self-felicitation that even his mother had noticed nothing. For the first time it occurred to him that his parents were not omniscient:--that was the evil of the afternoon's experiences. For the first time also it occurred to him that he possessed the ability to meet an emergency without their aid:--that was the good of it. And the good far outweighed173 the evil.
That night Bobby called upon the Lord to bless those dear to him, as usual; but he offered on his own account an addendum174.
"And make Bobby grow up a big man like Jimmy Powers."
收听单词发音 |
1
sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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cartridges
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| 子弹( cartridge的名词复数 )； （打印机的）墨盒； 录音带盒； （唱机的）唱头 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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ledgers
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| n.分类账( ledger的名词复数 ) | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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pivoted
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| adj.转动的，回转的，装在枢轴上的v.（似）在枢轴上转动( pivot的过去式和过去分词 )；把…放在枢轴上；以…为核心，围绕（主旨）展开 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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14
tugs
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| n.猛拉( tug的名词复数 )；猛拖；拖船v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的第三人称单数 ) | |
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barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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schooners
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| n.（有两个以上桅杆的）纵帆船( schooner的名词复数 ) | |
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17
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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18
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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20
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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22
juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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24
shingle
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| n.木瓦板；小招牌(尤指医生或律师挂的营业招牌)；v.用木瓦板盖（屋顶）；把（女子头发）剪短 | |
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25
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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socket
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| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
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27
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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30
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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gauge
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| v.精确计量；估计；n.标准度量；计量器 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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alignment
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| n.队列；结盟，联合 | |
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37
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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38
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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39
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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40
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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41
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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42
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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43
plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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44
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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pennants
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| n.校旗( pennant的名词复数 )；锦标旗；长三角旗；信号旗 | |
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46
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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47
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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48
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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49
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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50
unstable
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| adj.不稳定的，易变的 | |
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51
stumps
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| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
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52
sloughs
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| n.沼泽( slough的名词复数 )；苦难的深渊；难以改变的不良心情；斯劳(Slough)v.使蜕下或脱落( slough的第三人称单数 )；舍弃；除掉；摒弃 | |
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53
marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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54
spurted
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| （液体，火焰等）喷出，（使）涌出( spurt的过去式和过去分词 )； （短暂地）加速前进，冲刺 | |
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55
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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56
stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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57
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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58
poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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59
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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61
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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62
plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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63
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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64
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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65
freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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67
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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68
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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69
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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70
guardians
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| 监护人( guardian的名词复数 )； 保护者，维护者 | |
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71
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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72
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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73
spiked
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| adj.有穗的；成锥形的；有尖顶的 | |
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74
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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75
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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76
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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77
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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78
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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79
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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80
obstruction
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| n.阻塞，堵塞；障碍物 | |
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81
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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82
laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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83
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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84
caulks
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| vt.堵（船的）缝（caulk的第三人称单数形式） | |
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85
uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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86
staples
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| n.（某国的）主要产品( staple的名词复数 )；钉书钉；U 形钉；主要部份v.用钉书钉钉住( staple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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87
condiments
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| n.调味品 | |
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88
stewed
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| adj.焦虑不安的，烂醉的v.炖( stew的过去式和过去分词 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
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89
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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90
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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91
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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92
cracker
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| n.（无甜味的）薄脆饼干 | |
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93
prunes
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| n.西梅脯，西梅干( prune的名词复数 )v.修剪（树木等）( prune的第三人称单数 )；精简某事物，除去某事物多余的部分 | |
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94
mashed
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| a.捣烂的 | |
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95
shovelful
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| n．一铁铲 | |
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96
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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97
wasteful
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| adj.（造成）浪费的，挥霍的 | |
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98
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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99
autocrat
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| n.独裁者；专横的人 | |
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100
forager
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| n.强征（粮食）者；抢劫者 | |
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101
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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102
enthralling
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| 迷人的 | |
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103
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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104
aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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105
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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106
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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107
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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108
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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109
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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110
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
freckles
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| n.雀斑，斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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112
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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113
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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114
denning
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| vi.穴居（den的现在分词形式） | |
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115
swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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116
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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117
proffer
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| v.献出，赠送；n.提议，建议 | |
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118
tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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119
intersection
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| n.交集，十字路口，交叉点；[计算机] 交集 | |
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120
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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121
implement
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| n.(pl.)工具，器具；vt.实行，实施，执行 | |
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122
zigzag
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| n.曲折，之字形；adj.曲折的，锯齿形的；adv.曲折地，成锯齿形地；vt.使曲折；vi.曲折前行 | |
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123
appreciably
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| adv.相当大地 | |
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124
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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125
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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126
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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127
momentum
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| n.动力，冲力，势头；动量 | |
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128
blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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129
caulked
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| v.堵（船的）缝( caulk的过去式和过去分词 )；泥…的缝；填塞；使不漏水 | |
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130
subjective
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| a.主观(上)的，个人的 | |
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131
receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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132
herded
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| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
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133
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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134
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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135
dangle
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| v.(使)悬荡，(使)悬垂 | |
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136
dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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137
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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138
dangled
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| 悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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139
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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140
chubby
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| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
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141
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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142
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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144
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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145
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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146
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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148
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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149
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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150
obstructed
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| 阻塞( obstruct的过去式和过去分词 )； 堵塞； 阻碍； 阻止 | |
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151
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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152
slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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153
eddied
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| 起漩涡，旋转( eddy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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154
reverted
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| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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155
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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156
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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157
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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158
spankings
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| n.打屁股( spanking的名词复数 ) | |
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159
shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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160
hospitably
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| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
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161
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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162
munched
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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163
facetiousness
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| n.滑稽 | |
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164
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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165
portentously
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166
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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167
trepidation
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| n.惊恐，惶恐 | |
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168
prattling
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| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的现在分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
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169
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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170
maples
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| 槭树，枫树( maple的名词复数 )； 槭木 | |
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171
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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172
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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173
outweighed
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| v.在重量上超过( outweigh的过去式和过去分词 )；在重要性或价值方面超过 | |
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174
addendum
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| n.补充，附录 | |
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