Raftmates | Page 2

enough to float it, that they might make a
start.
Winn had never known any home but this one near the edge of the vast
pine forests of Wisconsin. Here Major Caspar had brought his New
England bride many years before. Here he had built up a mill business
that was promising him a fortune in a few years more at the time when
the war called him. When peace was declared, this business was
wellnigh ruined, and the soldier must begin life again as a poor man.
For many months he struggled, but made little head-way against
adverse fortune. The mill turned out lumber fast enough, but there was
no demand for it, or those who wanted it were too poor to pay its price.
At length the Major decided upon a bold venture. The Caspar mill was
but a short distance from the Mississippi. Far away down the great river
were cities where money was plenty, and where lumber and farm
products were in demand. There were not half enough steamboats on
the river, and freights were high; but the vast waterway with its
ceaseless current was free to all. Why should not he do as others had
done and were constantly doing--raft his goods to a market? It would
take time, of course; but a few months of the autumn and winter could
be spared as well as not, and so it was finally decided that the venture
should be undertaken.

It was not to be a timber raft only. Major Caspar did not care to attempt
the navigating of a huge affair, such as his entire stock of sawed
material would have made, nor could he afford the expense of a large
crew. Then, too, while ready money was scarce in his neighborhood,
the prairie wheat crop of that season was unusually good. So he
exchanged half his lumber for wheat, and devoted his leisure during the
summer to the construction of a raft with the remainder.
This raft contained the very choice of the mill's output for that
season--squared timbers, planks, and boards enough to load a ship. It
was provided with two long sweeps, or steering oars, at each end, with
a roomy shanty for the accommodation of the crew, and with two other
buildings for the stowing of cargo. The floors of these structures were
raised a foot above the deck of the raft, and were made water-tight, so
that when waves or swells from passing steamboats broke over the raft,
their contents would not be injured. In front of the central building, or
"shanty," was a bed of sand six feet square, enclosed by wooden sides,
on which the camp-fires were to be built. Much of the cooking would
also be done here. Besides this there was a small stove in the "shanty"
for use during cold or wet weather.
The "shanty" had a door and three windows, and was in other ways
made unusually comfortable. The Major said that after four years of
roughing it, he now meant to take his comfort wherever he could find it,
even though it was only on a raft. So the Venture's "shanty" was very
different from the rude lean-to or shelter of rough boards, such as was
to be seen on most of the timber rafts of the great river. Its interior was
divided into two rooms, the after one of which was a tiny affair only six
by ten feet. It was furnished with two bunks, one above the other, a
table, two camp-chairs, and several shelves, on one of which were a
dozen books of travel and history. This was the sleeping-room that
Winn was to share with his father.
A door from this opened into the main living-room of the "shanty."
Here were bunks for six men, a dining-table, several benches, barrels,
and boxes of provisions, and the galley, with its stove and ample supply
of pots, pans, and dishes. The bunks were filled with fresh,

sweet-smelling wheat straw, covered with heavy army blankets, and the
whole affair was about the most comfortable "shanty" ever set up on a
Mississippi timber raft. To Winn it seemed as though nothing could be
more perfect or inviting, and he longed for the time when it should be
his temporary home.
For a whole month after the raft was finished, loaded, and ready to set
forth on its uncertain voyage, it remained hard and fast aground where
it was built. To Winn's impatience it seemed as though high-water
never would come.
"I don't believe this old raft is ever going to float any more than the mill
itself," he remarked pettishly to his sister Elta one day in October, as
they sat together on the Venture and watched the sluggish current of the
little river.
"Father