“Hold her thar now,” Tom shouted from his position on the raft, where he stood holding the big three-inch hawser which was already fastened to the key of the raft. The stern of the steamer was now almost touching the log and Tom threw the rope to Joe who quickly made it fast to the snubbing post. “All right now. Let her go,” Tom shouted, as he turned and ran over the logs toward the shore. Slowly the steamer started forward, the hawser straightening out until there was a space of about fifty feet between the boat and the raft. Then it tightened and the steamer came to an abrupt stop. It takes a vast amount of pulling to overcome the inertia of 30,000 big logs and the water boiled and churned at the stern as the blades of the propeller beat it into foam. The Comet, built on the lines of a tug boat, was a powerful craft and soon began to move slowly through the water again, while the raft gradually took on the shape of a huge flatiron. “Hurrah! She’s moving,” Jack shouted. Bob and Jack, together with a half dozen of the men of the camp, were to cross with the raft, and the two boys were standing in the stern eagerly watching the starting of the logs. The big hawser, tight as a steel cable, groaned with the tremendous strain. Fortunately the wind, which had been blowing from the northwest, had died down to a light breeze. One would hardly think that an opposing wind would make much difference, as the logs lying so low in the water offer but a small surface to it; but when the surface of each log above the water line is multiplied by 30,000, the product is an enormous area. As a matter of fact, it is impossible for a boat to tow a raft against a very strong wind, and often, in spite of its great pulling power, the steamer is dragged backward sometimes at a rate of several miles an hour. It was all of a half hour before the raft was fairly in motion and even then, as Jack declared, “you’d have to sight by a tree or something to be sure that you were moving.” “Well, we’re off at last, Cap’n Seth,” Bob said, as the captain joined them in the stern. “Yep, we’re on the move,” he replied, as he examined the hawser to see if it was securely fastened. “How about the weather?” Jack asked. “Wall neuw,” and the captain took a hasty glance toward the west. “I’m a thinkin’ we’ll have a bit o’ weather afore dark, but I’m hopin’ as how we may git across afore it strikes us. It’s twelve miles straight across to East Outlet an’ we kin make it in about five hours if the pesky wind don’t blow any harder nor it is neuw, but I don’t jest like the looks o’ that bank o’ clouds over thar,” and he pointed toward the west where the boys could see a heavy looking fringe of leaden colored clouds. Very slowly the steamer gained speed until the captain assured them that they were making almost three miles an hour, which is considered very good unless the wind is in the right direction.