he Whirlstone
again."

"Ay, if it's that.... 'Tis no light work to get loose there in the
daytime, let alone by night."

The Whirlstone Rock it was; the baulks had gathered about it in an
inextricable mass. The shores were dark with men gathered to watch.

"Ay, 'tis there, sure enough, and fast as nails," said the men coming
in to the shore, after a vain attempt at breaking loose the block.

The Whirlstone was a point of rock, rising barely a yard above the
surface of the water, at the lower end of the rapids, where the
river began to widen out and clear. It lay rather to the right of the
fairway, and the timber floated clear, for the most part, to the left
of it. But a long stem bringing up against it broadside on would be
checked, and others packing against it form a fan-shaped mass reaching
from bank to bank. And it was a dangerous business to try and break
it, for the point of contact was at the rock itself out in the river,
and there was no time to reach the bank once the timber started to
spread. The usual way was to get out a boat from below, and even then,
it was a race for life to get clear before the loosened mass came
roaring down.

The foreman swore aloud. "I'll have that cursed rock out of the
fairway next summer, if I have to splinter it. Well, there's nothing
for it now; get your coffee, lads, and wait till it's light."

"Let's have a look at it first," cried a young, brisk voice in the
crowd. "Maybe we could get it clear."

"There's no clearing that in the dark," said the foreman. "Try, if you
like."

The young man sprang out on to the nearest point of the block, and
leaped across actively, with lifted pole, to the middle. Reaching
there, he bent down to see how the jam was fixed.

"Hallo!" came a hail from the rock. "It's easy enough. There's just
one stick here holding it up--a cut of the axe'll clear it."

"Ho!" cried the men ashore. "And who's to cut it loose, out there in
the dark and all?"

"Get a rope and haul it clear!" shouted the foreman.

"No use--can't be done that way."

The young man came ashore. "Mind if I lose the axe?" he asked the
foreman.

"Lose a dozen and welcome, if you can get it clear. Better than losing
two hours' work for fifteen men."

"Right. Give me an axe, somebody."

"'Tis fooling with death," cried one in the crowd. "Don't let him go."

"How d'you reckon to get back?" asked the foreman.

"Upstream at first, and come down after, when it clears."

"