ters.

At the head of each boom is a raft which supports two large windlasses,
each of which works an anchor. On this head-work about thirty
river-drivers take up their position to direct the course of the boom.

To change its position or shape, ten of the drivers spring into a boat or
bateau; one takes a paddle at the bow; eight take oars; and one, at the
stern, holds the anchor. They row with quick strokes toward the spot
where the anchor is to be dropped, the cable all the time unwinding from
the windlass.

"Let go!" shouts the foreman.

Splash! goes the anchor overboard.

The boat then darts back to the head-works. Out spring the men to help
turn the windlass to wind the cable in. They sing as they work, and the
windlass creaks a monotonous accompaniment as "Meet me by moonlight," or
the popular "Away over yonder," comes floating over the rippling water.

[Illustration: A RIVER-DRIVER.]

Meanwhile another bateau has been out with another anchor; and as both
windlasses turn, the boom swings toward the anchorage, and thus is so
much further on its way.

Though the men sing as they work, and make the best of their mishaps with
jests and laughter, they often carry homesick hearts. In cold and stormy
weather their hardships are great, an involuntary bath in the icy water
being an event of frequent occurrence. Also their work demands a constant
supply of strength which is very trying; frequently a head wind will
drive them back from a position which it has taken several days to gain,
and all the toil of fresh anchorages must be repeated.

The most dangerous part of the work is "sluicing" the logs. When the boom
reaches the run which connects the lake or river with the dam through the
sluice of which the logs must pass, the chain of guard-logs is detached,
and fastened in lines along both sides of the run, and the rafts are
drawn off to one side and anchored to trees. The river-drivers, armed
with their pick-poles, are then stationed along the run, on the dam,
wherever they may be needed.

The liberated logs now come sailing along, their speed quickening as they
near the sluice. When they reach it they dart through, their dull, rapid,
continuous thud mingling with the roar of the water. How they shoot the
sluice! log after log--two, six, a dozen together--pitching, tossing,
struggling, leaping end over end; finally submitting to destiny and
sailing serenely down the river toward another lake.

Meanwhile the ri