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Updated: June 26, 2025


What the Sioux were to the white men, what the Spider Water is to the bridgemen, that, and more, Pilot has been to the mountain men. "There was no compromise with Pilot even after we got in on it. Snowslides, washouts, bowlders, forest-fires and yet the richest quartz mines in the world lie behind it. This little branch, Mr.

"Well, what's that got to do with his runnin' toll on this bridge?" demanded the Cap'n. "Bridge piers hold up his logs, he says, and he ain't never goin' to pay toll till the bridgemen pay him for loss of time on logs. It's been what you might call a stand-off for a good many years. Best thing is to let him run toll. That's what your uncle thought. I reckoned you knew all about Kun'l Gid Ward.

But the designers had planned well, the steel-workers had done their full duty, and the American bridgemen had seen to it that every rivet was properly headed and every bolt screwed tight and no fault could be found. The bridge engineer's work is very diversified, since no two bridges are alike.

With men trained to work with ropes and tackle collected from an Indian seaport, and native riveters gathered from another place, Mr. J.C. Turk, the engineer in charge, set to work with the American bridgemen and the constructing engineer to build a bridge out of the pieces of steel that lay in heaps along the brink of the gorge.

More mechanics and laborers had been hired, and the augmented force divided into three eight-hour shifts. All day, in sun or fog or snow, and all night, under the bluish glare of the arc-lights, the expert bridgemen toiled away upon the gaunt skeleton of the gigantic bridge, far out and above the abyss of the strait. Not a moment of the twenty- four hours was lost.

Section men from the Sweetgrass wastes, and bridgemen from the foothills, roadmasters from the Heart Mountains home of the storm and the snow and Rat Cañon trackwalkers that could spot a break in the dark under twelve inches of ballast; Morgan, the wrecker, and his men, and the mountain linemen with their foreman, old Bill Dancing fiend drunk and giant sober were scattered on Mount Pilot, while a rotary ahead of a battery of big engines was shoved again and again up the snow-covered hill.

In the heart of Africa, five hundred miles from the coast and the source of supplies, an American engineer, aided by twenty-one American bridgemen, built twenty-seven viaducts from 128 to 888 feet long within a year. The work was done in half the time and at half the cost demanded by the English bidders. Mr.

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