Timbers up-ended, crossed, interlocked, slid one over the other,
mounted higher and higher in the formidable game of jack-straws the
loss of which spelled death to the players.
Immediately, and with feverish activity, the men nearest at hand
attacked the work. Logs on top they tumbled and rolled into the
current below. Men beneath the breast tugged and pried in search of
the key logs causing all the trouble. Others "flattened out the
wings," hoping to get a "draw" around the ends. As the stoppage of
the drive indicated to the men up and down stream that a jam had
formed, they gathered at the scene--those from above over the logs,
those from below up the river trail.
Rarely, unless in case of unusual complications, did it take more
than a few hours at most to break the jam. The breast of it went
out with a rush. More slowly the wings sucked in. Reluctantly the
mass floating on the surface for miles up stream stirred, silently
moved forward. For a few minutes it was necessary to watch
carefully until the flow onward steadied itself, until the
congestion had spaced and ordered as before. Then the men moved
back to their posts; the drive was resumed. At night the river was
necessarily left to its own devices.
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