boat, the better to reach far logging sites, and was sometimes gone for days with his crew, which by and large comprised souls that had acquired more skills and had forms better suited for the work.
“Many mornings,” said Feller, “I have looked across the river to this shore and seen you idle as you looked for a way across. It occurred to me that I had the means”—and he laid a hand on the gunwale of his boat—“to aid you.”
“I thank you for your consideration,” said Adam, “though I cannot help noticing that your crew has also gone out of their way.” For six other souls were in the boat, axes across their laps.
“No great matter,” said Feller, “but if you are as grateful as all that, perhaps you would consider joining us for the day. With my boat and my crew we can achieve more in that time than any of those feeble and forlorn souls over there can do in a week.”
Feller’s words kindled a new emotion in Adam’s breast: pride in the fact that Feller deemed him more worthy than others of having a place in his crew. Feeling their eyes upon him and noting the excellence of the great axes they bore, he agreed and vaulted into the boat.
He found himself seated across from Edger, a soul he had worked with before. This raised less agreeable feelings since Edger had a habit of glaring at Adam, and watching him closely as he worked, which Adam could happily do without. Edger was not unusually big or strong but she had become skilled in the craft of whetting blades, using an assortment of smooth rocks that she carried with her in a bag made of the skin of some dead animal. In consequence she could cut wood faster than most others. Seated next to her was Bluff, who had been the largest and strongest soul in Eltown until the arrival of Adam. Something in how these two related to each other gave Adam the idea that Edger and Bluff were lovers.
Feller’s habit was to row upriver to one of the remote camps of the west fork. The current ran faster in that stream than in the other two, so it was more difficult to explore, and good trees could be reached by one such as Feller who had a nimble boat. They worked their way up past the first splitting of the river, where the lone tree stood on its hill, and then came to the place where the white water of the Western spilled into the slack water of the Middle. They diverted up the former. The stream sought to expel them as if possessed by a soul of its own. “Bluff and Adam,” said Feller, “it is time for weaker oarsmen to move aside and let you bend your strong backs to it.”
Bluff arose and took the place of a smaller soul on the bench amidships that was reserved for those pulling on oars. He gripped one of the oars in his great hands and looked expectantly at Adam, who understood that he was supposed to do likewise. He was not accustomed to other souls directing his actions, but he could see plainly enough that this was the way of things. He took the seat on the bench next to Bluff and grabbed the other oar. “Pull,” said Feller. Bluff did so and the entire boat pivoted around. Adam was conscious of being looked on askance. “Pull!” Feller repeated, and this time Adam tried to do as Bluff did. Still the effect of Bluff’s oar was greater, though not as unequal as before. Feller directed Adam to pull alone, so as to straighten the boat’s course.
“And put your back into it, big man!” said Edger, in a tone that reminded Adam of why he wished she were not on the boat.
“Sharper tools and a duller tongue is what I desire from you, Edger,” responded Feller. “You have work of your own that I would have you attend to.” Adam was taken aback by his tone, for he had rarely heard any soul speak this way. But Edger seemed to accept the rebuke. She groped in her bag for a rock and then began to scrape it along the edge of an axe.
The rowing was arduous, but whenever Adam slackened, Bluff seemed to sense it and to pull harder, causing the boat to swing broadside to the current. This only made it more difficult for Adam to