Now, however, the efficiency of
the gate had been destroyed. Orde early discovered that he was
likely to have trouble in preventing the logs rushing through the
chute from grounding into a bad jam on the rapids below.
For a time the jam crew succeeded in keeping the "wings" clear. In
the centre of the stream, however, a small jam formed, like a pier.
Along the banks logs grounded, and were rolled over by their own
momentum into places so shallow as to discourage any hope of
refloating them unless by main strength. As the sluicing of the
nine or ten million feet that constituted this particular drive went
forward, the situation rapidly became worse.
"Tom, we've got to get flood-water unless we want to run into an
awful job there," said Orde to the foreman. "I wonder if we can't
drop that gate 'way down to get something for a head."
The two men examined the chute and the sluice-gate attentively for
some time.
"If we could clear out the splinters and rubbish, we might spike a
couple of saplings on each side for the gate to slide down into,"
speculated North. "Might try her on."
The logs were held up in the pond, and a crew of men set to work to
cut away, as well as they might in the rush of water, the splintered
ends of the old sill and apron.
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