Forests of Maine Part 4

"What made you fall off?" asked Marco.

"I don't know," replied the millman. "I was not much use to logs then. I was trying to find the mark."

"What mark?" asked Marco.

"The owner's mark," said the millman. "The owners all mark their logs, when they get them out in the winter, and then we separate or sort them in the booms. Sometimes the mark is on the under side of the log, and so we have to turn it over in the water to find it."

While all this conversation had been going on, the millman had been moving about over the water with the various logs, Marco accompanying him, and keeping as near to him as possible, walking along the sh.o.r.e, and sometimes on the logs which were resting by one end on the sh.o.r.e. As the millman was describing the system of marking the logs, he was sailing along very near to Marco, and he immediately began to turn the log over under him, saying--

"For instance, look here, and see me turn up the mark of this log."

Marco watched the log, as it slowly revolved, until presently there came a sort of hieroglyphical mark upon one end, made by crosses and lines cut into the wood.

"Every owner has his particular mark," said the millman.

"Whose mark is that?" asked Marco.

"I don't know," said the man, "but they know at the mill. They have a register of them all at the mill."

"I wish I could turn over a log, standing on it, in that way," said Marco.

"You couldn't," said the millman. "The only way by which you can sail safely on logs, would be to put two together, and make a sort of raft."

"How?" asked Marco.

"By nailing short pieces of boards across from one log to another. Then they would not roll."

"Well," said Marco, "if I could only get a hammer and some nails."

The millman told him that perhaps they would let him have a hammer and some nails at the mill; and Marco, accordingly, went up to inquire. They told him they had a hammer, but they had no nails to spare. So Marco failed of getting the means of making a raft. He forgot to go back to the millman to get the rest of his story, but, instead of it, he rambled down the bank of the river, until he came to a place where there was an old fence, which had fallen down, and the nails were sticking out of the boards. He now wished that he had borrowed the hammer at the mill, and he tried to persuade a boy, who was standing there, to go and borrow it for him.

The boy told him that a stone would do very well for a hammer.

"So it will," said Marco; "find me a good one, and bring it to this old fence."

The boy brought Marco a stone, and Marco began to knock out the nails.

Very soon, however, he set the boy at work upon the nails, while he went in pursuit of some short boards, to nail across from one log to the other. He found some, which he thought would answer, without much difficulty, and collected them together near the logs; and, soon afterwards, the boy brought him the nails.

The logs were lying side by side, with two ends resting upon the sh.o.r.e, the two other ends being out towards the stream. Marco concluded to nail first the two ends which were towards the sh.o.r.e, they being nearest, and being also more steady than the others. He accordingly laid one of his short pieces across, and nailed it as well as he could, using the stone for a hammer.

"Now," said he to the boy, "I'll put another board across at the middle, and one more at the other end, and then, if I can find something for a pole, I'll take a little sail. Look about a little, my boy, won't you,"

continued he, "and see if you can't find a pole, while I am nailing the other boards."

The boy accordingly went away in pursuit of a pole, while Marco nailed first the middle board, and then the end one. He came back just after Marco had got the first nail of the end board driven in, and as soon as he came in sight of the logs and of Marco, he exclaimed--

"You're adrift! you're adrift!"

Marco got up immediately, and looked around. He was indeed adrift. His weight, pressing upon the outer ends of the logs, had lifted the other ends off the sh.o.r.e, and the raft was slowly floating up the stream. The reason why it floated _up_ was, that there was at this place what they call an eddy, which is a current near the sh.o.r.e, flowing up the stream.

Such eddies are caused, generally, by curves in the banks.

As soon as Marco perceived that he was afloat, he said--

"Throw me the pole."

The boy threw the pole, and it just reached the raft. Marco took it in, and, thrusting the end hastily down into the water, he endeavored to push himself back by pushing against the bottom. But it was too late. He had got already into such deep water that he could scarcely reach the bottom, and he could not push the raft back.

In the mean time, the raft slowly moved up the river.

"Never mind," said Marco. "I'm going right for the mill, and when I get there, they'll come out for me in a boat. In the mean time, I'd better finish my raft."

So saying, he kneeled down and finished nailing on the last board. When he rose again, he found that he had advanced considerably, and the boy had accompanied him, walking along by the sh.o.r.e. He perceived, however, that he was gradually getting away from the sh.o.r.e, and, looking forward, he saw, to his consternation, that the eddy did not extend to the mill; but that, at a short distance above him, it swept out into the main current of the river, which was running by a point of land at the upper part of the eddy, with great speed. The raft advanced slowly till it came to this current, when it turned around, and began to glide swiftly down the stream.

"Boy," cried Marco, in great distress, "run to the mill as fast as you can go, and tell them that I have gone down the river, adrift. Tell them to send a boat after me as quick as they can. My cousin Forester will pay them well."

So the boy ran off towards the mill, while Marco floated away helplessly down the current.

CHAPTER IV.

THE DESERT ISLAND.

After Marco had sailed on for a few minutes, he cast his eyes up the river, and saw the steamboat. She was still lying in an inclined position, as she had been left grounded by the tide. He shouted and waved his hat, in the endeavor to attract the attention of the people on board, and lead them to send a boat to rescue him. But all his efforts were vain. He could not make them hear.

The current soon bore him beyond a point of land which hid the steamboat from his view, and he began to fear that he should be actually carried out to sea. He was calculating, in fact, how many miles it was to the mouth of the river, when it suddenly occurred to him that, though he could not _push_ with his pole, he might perhaps _paddle_ with it. He accordingly took up the pole, which he had laid down upon the raft, and began to use it as a paddle.

Marco found, to his great relief, that he could produce considerable effect upon his raft by using his pole as a paddle. He contrived to get the head of his raft round towards the sh.o.r.e, and, by working hard, he succeeded in urging it along through the current, very slowly, indeed, but still perceptibly, so that he began to have some hope that he might succeed in reaching land.

Before he had made much progress, however, he suddenly saw before him, at a short distance, a little rocky island, with some gra.s.s and a few trees on the lower end of it. The island was very small, being not much longer than Marco's raft. It lay almost directly in his course--so nearly, that he perceived that by working a little more with his pole, he thought he could bring himself into such a position as to be thrown by the current directly upon it.

This he did. He paddled, with all his strength, to get into a line with the upper end of the island, the current, all the time, bearing him down directly towards it. In a few minutes, he had the satisfaction of seeing that he was going directly upon it.

"All right," said he to himself; "now I'm safe."

As he said these words, the end of the raft struck the rock, and he leaped off upon it. The raft swung round, and was going away, but Marco seized it, and dragged it up a little way upon the sh.o.r.e, so as to secure it. He then sat down upon the rock, and began to consider what was next to be done.

He was certainly at a loss to know what was to be done. He waited an hour, and then, getting very tired of his situation, he began to consider whether it would not be best for him to entrust himself once more to his raft, and endeavor to get to the sh.o.r.e by means of his paddle.

While he was sitting on a point of the rock, in this perplexity, looking towards the sh.o.r.e that was nearest to him, he suddenly saw a boy coming upon a horse, along a winding road, which led to the river. He was driving the horse down to water. The horse advanced to the brink of the river, when Marco began to call out in his loudest voice,

"Halloo!"

"Halloo!" answered the boy.

"Can't you get a boat, and come and take me off this island?" cried Marco.