The Door Hinges and Latch.
A door was now constructed by battening together a number
of slabs. In place of a hinge a hole was drilled into the
sill and another into the lintel directly in line with it. Two
Fig. 276. The Door Hinges.
sticks of wood were then whittled to fit snugly, but without
jamming, into these holes. These sticks were then nailed to
the inner face of the door, with their whittled ends projecting
into the holes, forming
pintles on which the
door could turn. A narrow
strip of wood was
nailed to the outer jamb
for the door to close
against. The latch consisted
of a stick of wood,
fastened to the door at
one end with a nail. It
hooked onto a catch
whittled out of hard
wood to the form illustrated in Fig. 278, and nailed to the
jamb. Then to keep the latch from dropping too far when
Fig. 277. The Latch Guard.
the door was open, and to guide it when slammed against the
catch, we whittled out a guard piece to the form illustrated
in Fig. 277, and nailed this to the door, with the latch projecting
through the slot of the guard. A string was now
fastened to the latch and passed through a hole in the door.
A block was tied to the end of the latch string to
Fig. 278. Door Catch.
prevent it from slipping back through the hole;
but at night, when we did not want to be molested
by any intruders, we untied
the block and drew
in the latch string.
The Window Sash.
For our windows we made wooden sashes which fitted
nicely into the window openings. A small hole was drilled
through the sash at each side into the frame, and nails inserted
in these holes held the sash in place, and served also
as hinge pins for the sash to turn on. The sash could be
taken out at any time by removing
Fig. 279. The Latch.
these nails. As we
could not afford to use glass
for our windows, we covered
the sashes first with cloth, and
later, when it occurred to us
that in winter time it would be
difficult to keep the cold air
out, we used oiled paper.
Bunks.
Our next work was directed toward providing sleeping accommodations in the log cabin. A large log was laid on the floor the full length of the cabin, as far out as possible without interfering with the opening of the front door. Stakes were laid across this log, with their opposite ends wedged in between the logs of the wall. A nail or two in each slab held it in place. This formed a sort of shelf 12 feet long, which was divided at the center to form two bunks, each wide enough for two persons. But as there were six of us in the society, we had to provide two more berths. A stout post was set into a hole in the ground, and nailed firmly at the bottom to the lower berth log and at the top to one of the roof beams. This post supported a second berth log, which extended the full length of the building at a height of about 3 feet from the floor, and was wedged at the ends between the logs of the house. Cleats were nailed to the walls under this berth log to make it perfectly secure. Then slabs were nailed across it to form the two bunks.
Stopping up the Chinks.
The log cabin was completed by stopping up all the chinks between the logs of the walls. Strips of wood and bits of bark plastered with mud were driven into all the cracks and crevices until everything was made perfectly tight.
When our log cabin was completed we immediately transferred our camp from the tent to the hut. But at the very outset we were confronted with the problem of getting drinking water. We hadn’t thought of that before. It was easy enough to move the filter barrels, but when it came to moving the water wheel we could find no suitable place for it anywhere near the log cabin. The water of Lake Placid was too quiet, while the mill-race and the rapids on the other side of Kite Island ran so swiftly that we were afraid the water wheel would be swept away with its course. The matter was carefully considered at a special meeting of the society. It occurred to Bill that we might build a windmill in place of the water wheel, and use it to pump water from a well which could be dug near the hut.
“We wouldn’t have to use a filter, then,” he said.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Why, because the sand of the island will strain out all the dirt in the water. You see, the water in the well will have to soak in from the river, and by the time it gets through all the gravel and sand between the river and the well it ought to be filtered pretty clear.”
Digging the Well.
That sounded logical, and so we adopted the plan at once.
We chose a spot quite near the hut for our well. When we
had dug down about 6 feet we struck water, but continued
excavating until the water lay 3 feet deep in the well.
While making the excavation we shored up the sides with
planks, to prevent the loose soil from falling in on us and
smothering us, as it so nearly did when we were digging our
first cave. By “shoring,” I mean we lined the walls with
planks, which were driven into the ground with large wooden
mallets. The planks were braced apart with sticks at frequent
intervals. As the well hole grew deeper we had to
rig up a bucket to haul the dirt out. Our bucket was a soap
box attached to a rope, which
passed through a pulley at the
Fig. 282. Digging the Well.
top of the well. The pulley
was supported by a tripod
made by firmly lashing
together the
upper ends of
three stout
poles and
spreading their
lower ends far
enough apart
to straddle the
mouth of the well, as shown in Fig. 282. After the well
had been carried down to a sufficient depth, we began laying
the stone wall, which was to form the permanent lining. We
knew that the wooden walls would not do, because they would
soon decay. Our stone wall, which
was built up of flat stones like the
chimney of the log house, was not
very strong, I fear, and had not the
soil around it been pretty firm it
would probably have caved in.
However, if it served no other
purpose, it formed a fairly good
finish for the well.
The Windmill Tower.
The mouth of the well was carefully covered with planks while we constructed the windmill above it. For the tower of the windmill we chose four long sticks. They must have measured about 16 feet in length, and were from 4 to 6 inches in diameter. With them we made two frames of the form given in Fig. 283, using slabs to brace them apart. These frames were now set in position, with their lower ends firmly planted in holes in the ground, and the tower was completed by nailing on a number of diagonal braces. A couple of boards were nailed across the upper ends at opposite sides, and holes were drilled through them to provide bearings for the wind wheel shaft.
The Crank Shaft.
The shaft was a piece of heavy iron rod which we procured
from the blacksmith at Lumberville. Under Bill’s
direction the blacksmith hammered a U-shaped bend at the
center of the shaft, so as to form a crank, and then he flattened
the rod near the ends (see Fig. 284). When the shaft
was set in its place these flat spots lay just outside of the
bearing boards, and
Fig. 284. The Crank Shaft.
then, to keep the
shaft from sliding
back and forth in its
bearings, we fastened
on two clamps
over these flattened parts. The clamps were made of pairs of
hardwood blocks bolted together in the manner indicated
in Fig. 285.
The Wind Wheel.
Our next task was to construct
the wind wheel. First
we procured three boards, each
3 inches wide and 3-1/2 feet
long. A 1/2-inch hole was
drilled in the center of each
board, and then, with these
holes coinciding, the boards
were nailed together, with
their ends projecting, like
spokes, equally distant from
each other. Six wedges were
now made of the size indicated
in Fig. 286. These were made of a 2 x 4-inch scantling,
Fig. 286. Wedge for Wind Wheel.
sawed diagonally in two and then planed down to the given
dimensions. The wedges were now nailed firmly to the spokes,
as shown in Fig. 286. For the blades we used six thin
boards, each about 4 feet
long. Each blade measured
10 inches in width
at the outer end, and
tapered down to a width
of 3 inches at the inner
end, as illustrated in Fig.
288. The blades were
Fig. 287. Spokes of Wind Wheel.
now securely nailed to
the wedges, and their
outer ends were braced
together by means of
wires stretched from the forward edge of each blade to the
rear edge of the next one ahead. The wheel was then fitted
onto the shaft and nailed to one of the clamps. In this way
it was practically keyed to the shaft.
We did not make any vane for our windmill. It did not
need any. The wind nearly always blew either up or down
the river, more often up the river, for the prevailing summer
winds in that part of the country are southerly. But,
Fig. 288. Wind Wheel Blade.
aside from that,
east and west
winds could not
very well reach us
on account of the hills on both sides of the river. The wheel
was set facing the north, because the strongest winds came
from that direction, and as an extra brace against these winds
we stretched wires from the projecting end of the shaft to the
center of each blade.
A Simple Break.
A brisk northerly wind was blowing when we set the wheel in place, and it began to revolve at once, before we could nail it to the clamp. To stop it we nailed a stick of wood to the tower, so that its end projected in the path of the blades and kept the wheel from turning around. This brake was swung up to the dotted position illustrated when we were ready to have the wheel revolve, but it could be thrown down at any time to stop it.
The Pump.
Our pump was made of a galvanized leader pipe; that is, a pipe used to carry off rain water from the roof of the house. The pipe was only about 8 feet long, and so we had to piece it out with a long wooden box pipe. A block closed the lower end of this box, and the leader pipe fitted snugly into a hole in the block (Fig. 291). A spout was set into the upper end of the box pipe to carry the water to the cask, which was to serve as our water reservoir.
The Pump Valves.
We plugged the bottom of the leader pipe with a block
of wood, in the center of which a large hole was drilled.
Fig. 292. The Lower Valve.
The hole was covered with a piece of leather nailed at one
side, so that it could lift up to let water
into the pipe. The piston was made of
Fig. 293. The Piston Valve.
a disk of wood of slightly smaller diameter than the inside
of the pipe, and over it was fastened a piece of leather just
large enough to fit snugly against the walls of the pipe.
This piston was fastened to a wooden rod long enough to
reach from well within the pipe to the wind wheel shaft.
A strip of brass was bent over the crank, or U-shaped
bend in the shaft, and its ends were
fastened to the rod.
Action of the Pump.
It was rather a crude pump, but it did all the work we required of it. As the wheel went around the crank shaft would move the piston up and down. Whenever the piston went down, the air in the pipe would press up the edges of the leather disk and squeeze past (see Fig. 295). Then when the piston came up again, the leather disk, being backed by the wooden disk beneath it, was kept flat, so that no air could force its way back into the pipe. This made a partial vacuum in the pipe, and the water from the well rushed up through the valve at the bottom to fill it (see Fig. 296). When next the piston went down the bottom valve closed and more air forced its way past the piston. Then on the next upward stroke more water flowed into the pipe, until, after a number of strokes, all the air was pumped out and the water which took its place began to force its way up past the piston and eventually to flow out of the spout into the cask.
Our old windmill was sold to a farmer near Lumberville when we broke camp that fall. We carted it over and set it up for him. A number of years later I saw it still faithfully at work pumping water for his cattle. The original pump had been worn out and a new one substituted, but otherwise the old windmill remained just as we had first rigged it up.
“About all we lack now,” said Dutchy, when the windmill had been completed, “is a railroad.”
“Then suppose we build one,” was Bill’s unexpected rejoinder.
We all thought he was joking, but he wasn’t.
“I don’t mean a steam railroad,” he said, “but a gravity railroad.”
“A what?”
“A gravity railroad. Oh, you know what that is–a roller toboggan–the kind they have down at Coney Island.” And he went on to explain how we could rig up a simple roller toboggan on our island.
His plan was to build an inclined trestle on the high ground just below the lagoon, and then run wooden tracks along the shore down to the pontoon bridge, and across the mill-race to Kite Island. We started first to dig a road down to the bridge, because the bank was quite high at this point. The task was rather greater than we anticipated, but we kept steadily at it until we had cut a fairly good road through the bank, though the grade was rather steep.
Before proceeding with the trestle and track we thought the best plan would be to build our car, and then we could use it as a gauge to determine how far apart the rails should be set.
The Car.
First we got a 2 x 4-inch scantling, and cut from it two
lengths, each 4 feet 6 inches long. These were laid on edge
just 30 inches apart, and then a number of boards were
nailed across from one
scantling to the
other and sawed
Fig. 297. Putting the Car Body Together.
off flush with
their edges. The
floor thus formed
was now turned
over so that the
scantlings lay uppermost
and the sides of the car were then nailed on with
their edges overlapping the ends of the floor boards. The
sides, which were about 18 inches high, were each made of
two boards firmly battened together. Great care was taken to
securely nail both the flooring and the sides to the scantlings,
because these scantlings were to carry the wheels of the car.
The car body was completed by nailing on the end pieces
which overlapped both the flooring and the side walls.
The Flanged Wheels.
Next we sawed out the wheels of our car. From a board of hardwood 3/4 of an inch thick four disks, 12 inches in diameter, were sawed out. Then from a board 1 inch thick four 9-inch disks were sawed out. We cut these disks in the same way as we had made the disks for our surveying rod (see page 78), by making cuts across corners and finally smoothing off the angles with a draw-knife. A half-inch hole was now drilled in the center of each disk. Then on each large disk a smaller one was placed, with the center holes of the two coinciding and the grain of one lying across the grain of the other. In this position they were firmly nailed together, making a wheel like those used on a railway car, with the small disc forming the tread of the wheel and the large disk serving as a flange.
The Car Axles.
For the car axles we bought four 1/2-inch bolts, 6 inches
long, with two washers and two nuts for each bolt. In
Fig. 299. Car Body with Axles in Place.
each side of the car, about 8 inches from the ends, we nailed
face blocks; that is, blocks of wood for the wheels to bear
against. These face blocks were
only 1/2 inch thick. Then in
these blocks holes
were drilled which
were carried clear
through the scantling.
The holes
were just large
enough for the bolts
to fit snugly in
them. The bolts were inserted from the inside, so that their
threaded ends projected out at each side of the car. A patch
of wood was nailed to the scantling over each bolt head to
prevent the bolt from slipping back into the car. Then the
wheels were mounted on these
bolts, which served as axles.
Mounting the Wheels.
First a washer was placed on the axle, then the wheel was applied, with the larger or flange disk against the face block, after which another washer was slipped on. A nut was screwed against this washer just tightly enough to keep the wheel snugly in place, and yet let it turn freely on its axle. Then to keep this nut from shaking loose a second nut was screwed on against it. While one fellow held the first nut from turning, another screwed the second nut against it as tightly as he could. The second nut is technically known as a “jam nut,” or “lock nut.” The car was completed by laying a couple of boards across from one scantling to the other to serve as seats.
The Railway Track.
The trestle was now begun. First we erected a level platform,
which was to be the starting point of the railway.
This was made very substantial by planting the corner posts
Fig. 301. The Inclined Trestle.
firmly in the ground and then bracing them together with
diagonal braces. A couple of planks leaning against the
platform at one side provided a convenient
means for mounting to the top. From
the platform the trestle ran down
at an easy incline to the
ground. It was made
of 2 x 4-inch
scantlings supported
at intervals
on posts
driven into the
ground. The opposite
posts were firmly braced with boards fastened diagonally
across them. The scantlings were to serve as rails, and
Fig. 302. Joints of the Track.
so we fastened them at the proper distance apart with ties
nailed to the under side. But to be sure that the rails were
not too far apart or too close together, the car was rolled
over the track and the rails were
set to keep the tread disks of
the wheels on them
and the flange disks
just clear of their
inner edges. The
ends of the rails
were cut off at an angle, making a slanting joint, as shown in
Figs. 301 and 302. They were fastened firmly together by
nailing a piece of board on the bottom and also on the outer
side.
The Carpenter’s Miter Box.
To make sure that the ends were all cut to the same angle,
we made a carpenter’s “miter box.” Two sideboards were
nailed to a baseboard, making a trough large enough for
Fig. 303. Carpenter’s Miter Box.
the scantling to be
set in it. Then we
sawed through the
sides of the trough
at an angle of 45
degrees. When we
wanted to cut the end of the scantling at an angle it was
placed in the trough, and with the saw set in the saw cuts,
as a guide, we were sure that they would all be cut at the same
angle.
Laying the Track.
From the bottom of the inclined trestleway we continued the track down the slope to the river; but for the sake of economy, instead of using 2 x 4-inch scantlings for the rails, we bought a number of 2-inch planks at Lumberville, and had them sawed up into strips 2 inches wide. These 2-inch square rails were fastened together with slabs nailed on at frequent intervals. To maintain the proper gauge the car was rolled over each pair of rails, which were nailed first at the ends and center. To anchor the track we drove short posts into the ground so that their upper ends lay flush with the surface. A post was provided under each joint and one under the center of each rail, and then the slab ties were nailed securely to these posts. In imitation of a full-sized railway, we made it a point to “break joints” on our track; that is, to make the end of one rail come in line with the center of the opposite rail, as shown in Fig. 302. Our track was continued across the pontoon bridge and ran around the west shore of Kite Island. The track was straight as far as the shore of Kite Island, whence, by an easy curve, it was carried around to the log cabin.
The First Railway Accident.
Dutchy was the first one to try the railway. He sneaked back to the platform while the rest of us were putting a few last touches on the track. The first we knew the car came tearing down the track at full speed, with Dutchy yelling at the top of his voice for us to get out of his way. Bill was on the bridge when the car came along and he had no time to run for shore, but with great presence of mind he jumped into the water and clung to one of the barrels. But the joke of it all was that Dutchy himself got a wetting too. The track at the middle of the bridge was not quite true to gauge. It was this very spot that Bill was fixing up when Dutchy came along. The end of a rail was bent in far enough to catch the flange of one of the car wheels, and in a moment Dutchy, car and all, was slung head over heels into the mill-race. Fortunately no serious harm was done. Dutchy landed a little ways down-stream, and Reddy, by quick work, managed to rescue the car just as it was floating off under the suspension bridge. The car was undamaged except that the flange of a wheel was split off.
Of course, Bill was as mad as a hornet at Dutchy, and expressed his feelings in no mild terms. But his anger was somewhat tempered by the fact that Dutchy received as bad a punishment as he had inflicted.
Testing the Track.
We had to cut a new flange disk for the broken wheel, and to prevent the flanges from splitting off again we nailed a batten across the inner face of each wheel extending down to the very edge of the flange disk. This batten was fastened on across the grain. When everything was completed the car was started down the track empty to see if it would keep the rails. It went beautifully as far as the bridge, but was too light to run much beyond. The next time we loaded it up with stones and had the pleasure of watching it sail down hill, across the bridge and vanish out of sight around the shore of Kite Island. That was demonstration enough. We knew it would carry us safely and it did. The next time we tried it four of us piled into the small car, and in a moment we were off on a most thrilling ride, which ended right in front of the log cabin, where the car came to a sudden stop after riding off the end of the rails and plowing through the sand for a short space.
There is one more piece of work done by our society which yet remains to be described, and that is the cantilever bridge. This we all voted to be the greatest of our achievements on the island. To be sure, it was Uncle Ed’s design, but I think we justly deserve credit for the masterful way in which it was erected. In our search for types of bridges before building the king post bridge, we came across a simple cantilever bridge that didn’t look very difficult to construct. To be sure, none of us knew a thing about stresses and strains, and ingenious though we were, Bill realized that the task of designing a cantilever bridge was far beyond him. Nevertheless, we were sure we could build one if only we had a good set of plans. A letter was therefore mailed to Uncle Ed, asking him for the required details. The answer came promptly from Western Australia, asking us to send him the exact width of the water we wished to span, the depth of the water, the distance from the top of one bank to the top of the other, and the exact height of the banks above water level. We decided we would build the bridge across the mouth of the lagoon. The distance here between the two banks measured a little over 60 feet. The banks were very precipitous, and rose 13-1/2 feet above the level of the water. All these details, together with soundings of the bottom, all the way across, were sent to Uncle Ed, and on the day after our railway was completed quite a bulky package was received in answer. It contained complete directions for building the bridge of wooden frames, which were so designed that they needed merely to be hooked together to form the bridge, though to make the structure perfectly safe Uncle Ed cautioned us to tie the frames together wherever they met.
I am half afraid to tell my readers how to build this bridge, as it required the utmost care, and had to be built just so to avoid disaster. Bridge building is a serious business, and I would not advise any one to attempt building this, of all bridges, who does not propose to follow instructions implicitly. Uncle Ed told us that if we built it properly, and with sound timbers, we would find the bridge strong enough to support a dozen boys, but he warned us not to crowd more than that number on it.
Frames for the Cantilever Bridge.
The frames with which the cantilever bridge was built
were made of saplings from 3 to 4 inches in diameter. We
procured them from Mr. Schreiner’s lands up the river. In
making the frames the sticks were fastened together with
1/2-inch bolts 6 inches long. It was quite a strain on our
pocketbooks to buy these bolts, but Uncle Ed had written
that nails or spikes would
be useless to stand the
strains of so large a
bridge, and that if we
Fig. 306. B Frame (make four).
could not get any bolts
we had better give up the
idea of building a cantilever
bridge. To make
sure that we made no
mistakes, Uncle Ed had
made a drawing of each
different size of frame we
would need, designating
each with a different letter,
and then these same letters
were marked on a general
view of the bridge, so that
we would know exactly
where the frames belonged.
These drawings are reproduced
here in Figs. 305 to
316 and 318. We had to
Fig. 307. C Frame (make four).
make four frames each, of
the A, B, C and E sizes,
two each of the F, G and L
sizes and one each of the H, I, J and K sizes. Of the D
frames two were made with the ends cut away on the outer
half, as illustrated in Fig. 308, and two were cut away at
the inner side, the reason for which will appear presently.
When fastening the timbers together
we cut notches in each
stick, as shown in Fig. 317.
The depth of each notch was
just one-quarter the diameter
of the stick; that is, the notch
was 3/4 of an inch deep in a
3-inch stick and 1 inch deep in a
4-inch stick. Care was taken not
to exceed this depth, for fear of
weakening the sticks. In the
case of frame D, the sticks were
not notched or mortised together.
It will be noticed that the measurements
are given to the inner
edges of the sticks in some cases,
and to the outer edges in others.
The reason for this, as Uncle Ed
explained it, was because the
Fig. 308. D Frame (make four).
thickness of our sticks would
vary considerably, and it was
important that many of the measurements
be exact, otherwise the
frames would not fit into each
other as they should. Another
thing to which he
called our attention was the
fact that frames A, B, E, F,
H, K and L were stiffened
with cross braces, while the
rest were not. The braced
frames, he wrote, were
those which would be under
a compression strain, while
the others would be under
tension; that is, when any
weight was placed on the
bridge it would push against
the ends of the braced
frames, trying to crush
them, but would pull on the
unbraced frames, trying to
tear them apart. In fact,
the bridge would have been
just as strong had we used
heavy iron wire in place of
the unbraced frames, and
the only reason Uncle Ed
did not recommend our
doing so was because we
had no simple way of
stretching the wire taut.
Erecting the Towers.
We built the complete set of frames before attempting to
erect the bridge. Then we began by building the towers.
Two A frames were set on end and spaced 4 feet apart at the
top and 5 feet apart at the bottom, measuring not from the
inner but from the outer edges of the frames. In this position
they were connected by short spars, notched in place.
Fig. 316. L Frame (make two).
The notches for these connecting spars will be seen in Fig.
305 on the main or vertical timbers of frame A, just below
the upper and middle cross sticks and above the lower cross
sticks. The upper connecting spars were wedged tightly
under the cross sticks, and served as an additional support
for them. Diagonal braces were nailed from one frame to
the other, as illustrated in Fig. 318. The towers were built
Fig. 317. Notching the Sticks Together.
on opposite banks, at the mouth of the lagoon, and when
completed we lowered them carefully down the banks into
the water. According to directions they were to be set just
30 feet apart, measuring from the center of one tower to
the center of the other. The water was quite shallow where
the towers rested, but the bottom was
pretty firm. Holes were dug in the
bottom for the legs of the tower to set
into, and then large stones were piled
around each leg to provide a firm
foundation for the towers.
Setting Up the Frames.
A B frame was now hauled out to one of the towers and lifted by its narrower end, with fall and tackle, until its lower tie piece rested on the projecting ends of the center crosspieces of the tower. The upper end of the frame was held against the top of the tower, while a C frame was hooked over the upper ends of the tower legs; then frame B was allowed to swing outward until its smaller end locked with the outer end of frame C. It will be observed in Fig. 306 that the upper crosspiece or tie piece of frame B was fastened to one side of the vertical sticks and the lower tie piece to the other side. This was done purposely, so that when the frame was set in position the bottom tie piece would be on the lower side of the frame and the top piece would lie on the upper side, as shown in Fig 318, or, better still, in Fig. 319. The rest of the frames were all arranged to be set in place with their tie pieces on the lower side, or facing the towers, as will be clearly understood by examining the illustrations. As soon as the B and C frames were set up on one side of the tower, another pair of B and C frames was set up on the other side of the same tower. A cantilever bridge must always be built out on both sides of the tower at the same time, otherwise it will be overbalanced on one side and topple over. After the B and C frames were in place we took two D frames, with oppositely cut ends, and rested their tie sticks on the top of the tower, just under the ends of the C frames. The ends of the two D frames overlapped at the center of the tower, and, as one was cut away at the outer side and the other at the inner side, they fitted neatly together and were fastened with bolts. The D frames were supported near their outer ends with E frames, which rested on the B and C frames. Fig. 319 shows an E frame set in position on the landward side of the tower, while two of the boys are climbing out on the opposite B and C frames preparatory to setting up the other E frame. A cross stick was now bolted to each D frame, just beyond the upper ends of the E sticks. This done, the frame F was hooked in between the ends of B and C, at the shoreward side of the tower, and its outer ends were supported by frame G, which was hooked over frame D and the upper ends of frame E. The frame L was then rested on the ends of frame F and G, and supported the shore end of frame D. A stick nailed across frame D on each side of the upper ends of frame L served to hold the latter in place.
Binding and Anchoring the Structure.
As the different frames were coupled together, we bound the overlapping ends with soft iron wire. The place where frames B, C, E and F came together was quite a vital point, and we took pains to make the wire binding at this place doubly strong. As soon as the L frame was in place we anchored the bridge to shore by running wires from the ends of the D frame and the ends of the G frame to stakes driven into the banks. The frames on the second tower were now similarly erected and anchored, after which we were ready to put in the center panels of the bridge.
The Center Panels of the Bridge.
First, the frame H was wedged into place and thoroughly fastened by a liberal winding of wire. Next the frames I and J were set in place, and in order to do this we had to remove the upper tie pieces of these frames. Then one frame was hooked in the other, and the two were carried out on the scow under the center of the bridge. Ropes were tied to the ends of the two frames, and they were lifted together, like a wide V, to the position shown in Fig. 318, after which the tie pieces were bolted on again, resting against the ends of the E frames. As an additional security, two sticks were bolted to the under side of the frame H, one at each side of the I and J frames. The bridge was then completed by wedging the frame K under the ends of the D frames, and also placing a stick across each tower under the joints of the D frames. We planned to run our gravity railway across this bridge, moving our platform and trestle to the opposite bank; so instead of flooring our bridge with slabs, we fastened ties across at intervals of 15 or 18 inches. These ties were sticks 3 inches in diameter, which were secured to the D frames.
A Serious Interruption.
We were just preparing to lay the tracks across the bridge when we met with a serious interruption. Mr. Halliday had told us that a few days before our arrival that summer Mr. Smith, the owner of the island, and another man had paid a visit to the place. Jim Halliday himself had rowed them over, and learned from their conversation that Mr. Smith was trying to sell the island, and that the stranger, a Mr. Gill, was a prospective purchaser. All summer long we had been dreading the return of this customer, though, as time passed without his putting in an appearance, we almost forgot the incident. But now, at the end of August, just as we had about completed our cantilever bridge, who should arrive but this very man Gill and three other men with a large tent and camping outfit. It was a sorrowful crowd of boys that watched the wagon with their belongings ford the shallow water over to our island. We felt that the island was ours by right of discovery and occupation, but we were powerless to force our claims. And what if they did not insist on our leaving the island? It would not be the same place with strangers around to meddle with our things.
Dispossessed.
But the new owner of the island was even more of a boor than we had anticipated. As soon as he landed he wanted to know what we were doing on his property, and peremptorily ordered us off. Bill answered that we were camping there, and politely asked if we couldn’t stay out the summer. But Gill would not listen to the idea. We must get off the island that very day or he would see to it that we did.
I tell you it made us boil. We were just itching to give the pompous little man the sound thrashing he deserved, but knew that we would stand a very small show against his three powerful companions. At any rate, we were determined not to leave at once. Instead, we repaired to Kite Island, taking our belongings with us. Then we cut away the suspension, spar and pontoon bridges, so that we would not be annoyed by any of the Gill crowd. We were resolved that they should not benefit by any of the things we had built.
At the dead of night we paddled back to Willow Clump Island, crept past the slumbering intruders and waded out to the old water wheel. After a good deal of exertion we managed to dislodge the smaller tower, letting the wheel drop into the river and float away. Then we made for the cantilever bridge. It didn’t take us very long to cut away the wire bindings, unhook the frames and drop them into the lagoon. But the task was quite a perilous one, as the night was pitch black. Finally, nothing remained of the bridge but the two towers, which were left as monuments to mark the spot where our last piece of engineering on the island was done.