Among the logs at the hilltop was a giant tree, left standing for many years and now cut for a special purpose by old Joel Winthrop himself. A friend of his, an old sea captain, was building a schooner at Belfast, and Winthrop had promised him a mast that should stand any strain put on it. "Aint no better stick nor thet in the whole State o' Maine," said Joel Winthrop to Andrews and Dale. "An' I want ye to be careful how ye roll it down the hill." And they promised to be as careful as they could. It was no easy task to get the big log just where they wanted it, and it was Monday afternoon before they were ready to let it start on its short but swift journey to the edge of the pond. During the day the sky had clouded over and now it looked snowy once more. "I guess we are ready to bid her good-by," observed Dale, as he looked the log over and measured the snowy slope with his eye. "All ready!" sang out Andrews. "Now then, up with your stick and let her drive!" Each was using a long pole as a lever, and each now pressed down. This started the log toward the edge, and in a second the stick began to slide downward, slowly at first and then faster and faster. "Hullo! hullo!" sang out a voice from far below. "Don't send any more logs down just yet!" "It's Owen calling!" gasped Dale, his face growing suddenly white. "Owen, where are you?" "There he is!" came from Andrews, holding up his hands in horror. "There, right in the way of that log!" He raised his voice into a shriek. "Run for your life! Run, or you'll be smashed into a jelly!" CHAPTER VIII CHRISTMAS, AND AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL Owen heard the shriek, and although he did not understand the exact words uttered, he realized that it was meant for a warning. He was about fifty feet up the side of the hill, ax in hand, preparing to cut down a bunch of saplings which, so far, had not been touched. The saplings had been knocked over by the other logs sent down, but the young lumberman thought it would be better if they were out of the way altogether. Standing on something of a knob he looked up and saw the log coming down upon him, rolling and sliding with ever-increasing rapidity. That it was coming directly for him there could be no question, and for the moment his heart seemed to stop beating and a great cold chill crept up and down his backbone, while he had a mental vision of being crushed into a shapeless mass by that ponderous weight. "Jump!" screamed Dale. "Jump, for the love of Heaven, Owen!" [Illustration: "Jump! Don't wait! Jump!" yelled Owen.] And then Owen jumped, far from the knob to the portion of the slide below him. It was a flying leap of over a rod, and when he landed he struck partly on his feet and partly on his left hand. Then from this crouched-up position he took another leap, very much as might a huge frog, and landing this time on his side, rolled over and over to the bottom of the slide.