CHAPTER XIX
IN DEADLY PERIL
"This stunt business," as Director Hooley called the taking of suchpictures as this, is always admittedly a gamble. After much time andhundreds of dollars have been spent in getting ready to shoot a scene,some little thing may go wrong and spoil the whole thing.
There was nothing the matter with the director's plans on this occasion;every detail of the "freshet" had been made ready for with exactness andwith prodigious regard to detail.
The foreman had cut the key log almost through and the force of thewater and debris behind the boom had broken it. The man barely escapeddisaster by reason of agile legs and sharp caulks on his boots.
The backed-up waters burst through. Up stream, amid the turmoil and murkof the agitated flood, rode Wonota in her canoe, directly into the focusof the great cameras. To keep her canoe head-on with the flood, and tokeep it from being overturned, was no small matter. It required all theIndian girl's skill to steer clear of snags and floating logs. Besides,she must remember to register as she shot down the stream a certainemotion which would reveal to the audience her condition of mind, astold in the story.
Wonota did her part. She was rods above the breaking dam and she couldnot see, because of an overhanging tree on Ruth's side of the stream,any of that peril which suddenly threatened the white girl. Wonota wasas unconscious of what imperiled Ruth as the latter was at firstunknowing of the coming catastrophe.
It was Jim Hooley whom the incident startled and alarmed more thananybody else. He committed an unpardonable sin--unpardonable for adirector! He forgot, when everything was ready, to order the starting ofthe camera. Instead he put his megaphone to his lips and shouted acrossto Ruth Fielding--who was not supposed to be in the picture at all:
"Jump, Miss Fielding! Quick! Jump into the river!"
And Ruth did not hear him, loudly as his voice boomed across the flood!She was deafened by the thunder of the waters and the crashing of thelogs in mid-flood. Her eyes, now that she was sure the foreman was safeon the other bank, were fixed upon the bow of Wonota's canoe, justcoming into sight behind the ware of foaming water and upreared,charging timbers.
It was a great sight--a wonderful sight. No real freshet could have beenmore awful to behold. Mr. Hooley's feat was a masterstroke!
But behind and above Ruth was a scene of disaster that held those on theopposite bank speechless--after Hooley's first mighty shout of warning.At least, all but the camera men were so transfixed by the thing thatwas happening above the unconscious Ruth.
Trained to their work, the camera men had been ready to crank theirmachines when Hooley grabbed up his megaphone. The boom had burst, theflood poured down, and the Indian maid's canoe came into the range oftheir lenses.
It was the most natural thing in the world that they should begincranking--and this they did! Alone among all those on the far bank ofthe stream, the camera men were blind to Ruth's danger.
"She'll be killed!" shrieked Jennie Stone, while Helen Cameron ran tothe water's edge, stretching forth her arms to Ruth as though she wouldseize her from across the stream.
The next moment the water flooded up around Helen's ankles. The streamwas rising, and had Jennie not dragged her back, Helen would have beenknee-deep in the water--perhaps have been injured herself by one of theflying logs.
Ruth was out of reach of the logs in the stream, although they chargeddown with mighty clamor, their ends at times shooting a dozen feet intothe air, the bark stripping in ragged lengths, displaying angry gashesalong their flanks. It was from that great heap of logs above, on thebrink of the steep bank, that Ruth was in danger.
A fringe of low brush had hidden the foot of the logpile up there. Thishedge had also hidden from the observation of the party across thestream the villains who must have deliberately knocked out the chockswhich held the high pile of timbers from skidding down the slope.
Mr. Hooley had seen the logs start. Squeezed out by the weight of thepile, the lower logs, stripped of bark and squealing like livingcreatures started over the brink. They rolled, faster and faster, downupon the unwarned Ruth Fielding. And behind the leaders poured the wholepile, gathering speed as the avalanche made headway!
The turmoil of the river and the crashing logs would have smothered thesound of the avalanche until it was upon the girl of the Red Mill. Nodoubt of that. But providentially Ruth flashed a glance across thestream. She saw the party there all screaming at her and waving theirarms madly. Jennie was just dragging Helen back from the rising floodof the turbulent river. Ruth saw by their actions that they were tryingto draw her attention to something behind her.
She swung about and looked up the almost sheer bluff.
Ruth Fielding was not lacking in quick comprehension. A single glance atthe descending avalanche of logs was sufficient to make her understandthe peril. She knew that she could not clear the hurtling timbers byrunning either up stream or down. The way was too rough. As well as JimHooley, she knew that escape was only possible by leaping into theriver. And that chance was rather uncertain.
Ruth was dressed for the rough outdoor life she was living. She worehigh, laced boots, a short skirt, knickerbockers, a blouse, and abroad-brimmed hat.
When she turned to face the turbulent stream the rocking timbers comingdown with the released water almost filled the pool before theendangered girl.
Had she worn caulks on the soles of her boots, as did the foreman whohad cut the boom, and been practised as he was in "running the logs,"Ruth would have stood a better chance of escaping the plungingavalanche. As it was, she was not wholly helpless.
She had picked up a peavey one of the timbermen had left on this bankand was using is as a staff as she watched the "freshet" start. Warnednow of the danger she was in, the girl of the Red Mill seized this stafffirmly in both hands and poised herself to leap from the boulder towhich she had stepped.
Only a moment did she delay--just long enough to select the mostpromising log in the smother of foam and water before her. Then sheleaped outward, striking down with the pike-staff and sinking its sharppoint in the log to which she jumped.
Behind her the timbers poured down the bluff, landed on theirsplintering ends on the rocks, and then--many of them--pitched theirlong lengths into the angry river.
The spray flew yards high. It curtained, indeed, all that occurred forthe next few moments upon this side of the stream. However much thescene, arranged by Jim Hooley might need the attention of the movingpicture makers, here was a greater and more dangerous happening, inwhich Ruth Fielding was the leading participant!