"Very easy," said Bill. "The timber stick did not give so much surface for the force of the current as the raft. Hence the raft went the faster of the two. But the stick?" inquired Bill, who was also interested. "Well, I landed as I said in the centre of the stick, then slipped down on my hands and knees, and began to guide it. Sometimes it would roll and I would have to roll with her to keep on top. Then I had to watch lest I should get jammed against the rocks. I jumped off several times to avoid being squeezed, and swum back again. Once I got atween the stick and the rocks and she was a-coming for me. I dived under it, come up on the other side, and that's what saved me from certain death. I couldn't catch up to the raft and so I rode the stick all the way to the river, where the raft was awaiting for me. That was all there was to it. It was an exciting time, though." There were murmurs of admiration from the assembled raftsmen and then more tales followed. Rafts torn up in the rough water, raftsmen drowned though expert swimmers, deeds of rescue, and things of a similar nature followed in rapid succession. The home distilled liquor was used sparingly, and finally the fiddle was brought forth and music enlivened the public room. White Cockade, Devil's Dream and others followed, the raftsmen keeping time with their heavy boots and sometimes by dancing. One of the younger raftsmen executed a woodman's fling in a creditable manner, encouraged by the handclapping of the others and the occasional shouting in tune with the melody "Heigh ho--de-do, de-do, de-do, de-do!" In the midst of the revel the door was opened and two strangers entered. They had evidently been riding far, for their garments showed the trace of hard travel. The one who appeared to be the spokesman was tall, well proportioned, with a tangled mass of auburn hair, more tangled by the pelting storm without, and a beard trimmed in the Vandyke style and of the same hue as his hair. The other was a giant in size, standing fully six feet six inches, and broad in proportion. He had the dark hair and features of the Celt. The tavern keeper was all hospitality. Room was made for them around the flaming fire log and their clothes, damp with the storm, were soon drying. There was a lull in the conversation of the raftsmen, the fiddle had been consigned to its place o'er the chimney piece. "Can we get supper?" asked the one with the red beard. The tavern keeper nodded and added, "Certain, and a good one at that," and going to the rear door he bawled to the cook, "Supper fer two gents." "Arright," squeaked the distant, feminine voice. "Our horses must be fed and stabled also," said the same gentleman. The tavern keeper gave the necessary directions to a tow-headed boy, who disappeared into the outer darkness. "And 'ere," thundered the larger of the two strangers, as he opened the door after the boy, "see that you rub the horses down well and give them a good bed, and a warm mash."