Radway had sounded carefully the thickness of the ice with an ax.
Although the weather had of late been sufficiently cold for the
time of year, the snow, as often happens, had fallen before the
temperature. Under the warm white blanket, the actual freezing
had been slight. However, there seemed to be at least eight inches
of clear ice, which would suffice.

Some of the logs in question were found to be half imbedded in the
ice. It became necessary first of all to free them. Young Henrys
cut a strong bar six or eight feet long, while Pat McGuire chopped
a hole alongside the log. Then one end of the bar was thrust into
the hole, the logging chain fastened to the other; and, behold, a
monster lever, whose fulcrum was the ice and whose power was applied
by Molly, hitched to the end of the chain. In this simple manner a
task was accomplished in five minutes which would have taken a dozen
men an hour. When the log had been cat-a-cornered from its bed, the
chain was fastened around one end by means of the ever-useful steel
swamp-hook, and it was yanked across the dray. Then the travoy took
its careful way across the ice to where a dip in the shore gave
access to a skidway.

Four logs had thus been safely hauled. The fifth was on its journey
across the lake. Suddenly without warning, and with scarcely a
sound, both horses sank through the ice, which bubbled up around
them and over their backs in irregular rotted pieces. Little Fabian
Laveque shouted, and jumped down from his log. Pat McGuire and
young Henrys came running.

The horses had broken through an air-hole, about which the ice was
strong. Fabian had already seized Molly by the bit, and was holding