Right in the maw of the torrent! My God! was the man insane? Few men entered that catarack; none ever came out again. And now to ride with the log drive! 'Twas crazy suicide! Who would dream he'd been hit so hard that he'd want to die at her side? But he rode like a fiend incarnate. They stood with eyes apop. They knew each plunge would drown him, but ever he rose to the top. It seemed an age they watched him, a dozen times go down, Each time a little longer, but I guess frogs never drown. At last he reached the bottom, the men all gave a cheer, But his thoughts were on that curly head and he didn't seem to hear. And presently he spied her, a dozen feet away, Sometimes lost in the billows, scarcely seen for spray. But he plunged into the water and brought her safe to land And laid her on a bed of moss, though scarcely he could stand. But Rose was no worse for the wetting, and I'll be a son of a gun, If she didn't turn round and marry a Swede named Peterson. Well, Joe got drunk as a devil and swore he didn't care; He'd pulled a stunt on the river that no one else would dare; And a man was a fool to marry, but he hoped the square head Swede, Would still remember to thank him when he had ten kids to feed. And wherever the drivers gather and wherever white water calls, They tell how the crazy Frenchman rode the Sunset Falls. What is the real significance of these stories? In the first place they are highly entertaining, with their remarkable flights of fancy and the introduction of the unexpected. This is enhanced by the tang of the pine woods and the lure of the great out-of-doors. In the camps they served to while away many a weary hour and to lighten up the seriousness of many a knotty problem. They brought the gigantic tasks of the great woods down to manageable proportions and saved many a logger from an inferiority complex. Since they have come into civilization many a task has been made easier by their rare humor.