IN THE WOODS
Mr. Martin heard the murmurs of those in the automobile with him, and
he knew that they might become much frightened.
Truly there was danger of a collision with the load of poles, as there
was not room to pass on the narrow road. And, so far, he had not been
able to stop his car. But it was going slowly, for, though the brakes
did not hold it completely, they held it somewhat.
“If we bump we won’t bump very hard,” said Ted to his sister.
Meanwhile the man driving the load of poles which he had cut in the
woods, was doing his best to find some place along the narrow road
where he could pull to one side. The Curlytops were near enough now to
see that one of the rear wheels of the wagon was sliding along in an
iron “shoe.”
This is what is often used in the country, and on heavy lumber or stone
wagons, to keep them from going downhill too fast. The “shoe,” as it
is called, is made so that the wheel fits in it. The front of the shoe
is fastened by a chain to the body of the wagon, and thus one wheel is
dragged along the ground, acting as a brake. It is just the same as
when you may be coasting along on one roller skate, you drag the other
foot to act as a brake.
Nearer and nearer the automobile of the Curlytops came to the wagon
load of poles. And just when it seemed as if they must “bunk,” as Janet
called it, though perhaps the “bunk” would not be very hard--just then
the driver, who was walking beside his horse, with the reins in his
hand, came to a wider place in the road.
“I’ll turn in here and you can pass me!” he called.
“All right--thank you!” shouted Mr. Martin.
Carefully he guided the automobile past the load of poles. There was
just about room enough to pass, and not much more. Soon after that the
hill ended and they were on level ground again.
“Mah good land ob goodness, Ah’s glad dat’s ended!” sighed Lucy.
“I guess we’re all glad,” said Mrs. Martin. “You must have your brakes
looked after, Dick!”
“I will,” he said. “I thought they were all right. Some sand must have
gotten in them from the roads. But now we’re all right.”
They were driving along a pleasant road through the woods. All danger
seemed to be over, and Mr. Martin said he wished he had taken the other
way instead of the one the farmer had told about as being the “least
mite shorter.”
“Sometimes the longest way is the best,” said Mr. Martin. “But I think
we’re all right now.”
And they were, for in about half an hour longer they were within sight
of Mount Major, as it was called, the place where Mr. Martin was to set
up the store for the lumbermen.
“Oh, what a lovely place!” cried Janet, as they caught a glimpse of it
from a hill just before reaching it.
“Good place to fish,” observed Ted. “I see a lake and a river.”
“I fish, too!” cried Trouble.
“Doan yo’ fall in!” warned Lucy, hugging the little fellow, who, in
spite of his mischief, was her special favorite.
“Yes, there is plenty of water around here,” said Mr. Martin. “There
needs to be on account of the lumber. Well,” he went on, “I don’t see
any of the men here yet. I guess I’m in plenty of time. I was afraid
I’d be late. Now we’ll unpack and get something to eat. I suppose
you’re hungry, aren’t you, Curlytops?” he asked, with a laugh.
“Terrible!” announced Ted. “Can we cook dinner over a campfire?”
“Maybe, some time,” his father said. “But I think there’s an oil stove
in the bungalow and that will be better when we’re in a hurry.”
“Where’s buffalo?” asked Trouble, looking around. “I don’t see any
buffalo. Has him got a hump on his back?”
“You’re thinking of a camel!” laughed Janet.
“No, a buffalo had a sort of hump up near his head,” remarked Teddy.
“But what makes him ask about a buffalo, anyhow?”
“He means _bungalow_--the place where we’re going to live,” explained
Mrs. Martin with a smile. “There it is, children, over under the trees.
Oh, what a fine place!”
There was a driveway at one side of the bungalow, which was made of
logs, and, a little farther on, a shed where the automobile could be
kept. Leading down from the front door was a path, and this extended to
a lake, the waters of which were as blue as the sky. Flowing into this
lake, not far from the bungalow, was a small river.
All around the lake, along the river and surrounding the bungalow
were trees, trees, trees--so many that the Curlytops never could have
counted them all. And here and there, in cleared places where the trees
had been cut down, were rough buildings, made from logs and “slabs,”
that is, half-rounded pieces of wood that are sawed from logs to make
the timbers square and true.
Over the door of one of the buildings was a sign:
GENERAL STORE
Seeing this Janet cried:
“Is that where you are going to keep store, Daddy?”
“I’m not exactly going to _keep_ store,” her father replied. “I came up
here to get the store started and to show the men how to run it. They
will be cutting lumber here the rest of the summer and all winter, and
they will want to buy things from the store, as some of the lumbermen
are bringing their families with them.”
As yet none of the lumbermen had arrived, for the camp was not to open
for a few days. It was needful to start the store first so the men
would have something to eat when they should arrive.
Piled about the building that was marked with the store sign were
many boxes and barrels. The Curlytops had seen such packages before
at their father’s store in Cresco, and they knew what the boxes and
barrels held--sugar, canned goods, dried fruits, tea, coffee, oatmeal,
overalls, hats and all the things that go to make up a general store.
All these goods must be taken out of their packages and arranged on the
shelves.
“Couldn’t we help in the store, Daddy?” asked Ted, as his father
started toward the bungalow, to open it with a key he had.
“Oh, yes, I guess so,” was the answer. “I expect a couple of men up to
do the heavy work. They ought to be here now.”
The bungalow was opened and the Curlytop family went inside. The more
they saw of the place the better they liked it. There was a large
living-room with a great fireplace, a dining-room and a kitchen on the
first floor, and upstairs were bedrooms.
“And there are dishes in the pantry, too!” announced Janet, as she came
back from having looked around.
“Is there anything to put on the dishes?” asked Ted, laughing. “I mean
anything to eat?”
“That’s what I want to know, too,” laughed Mr. Martin.
“I’ll soon have something ready,” promised Mrs. Martin. “Come, Lucy, we
must feed these hungry animals.”
“I am bear--that’s what I is!” cried Trouble, and he pretended to growl
like a bear to show how hungry he was.
“I’ll go over and take a look at the store,” announced Mr. Martin.
“There’s wood already cut for the fire,” he said.
“We’ll attend to things,” said Mrs. Martin. “Just bring in the food
from the auto and we’ll soon have a meal ready.”
Mr. Martin and Ted brought in the baskets of victuals that had been
brought along, and then the Curlytop boy and his father, with Trouble
trailing after them, went toward the building that soon was to be made
into a store for the lumbermen to trade at. Janet remained in the
bungalow to help her mother and Lucy.
Mr. Martin had a key to the store building and, opening it, he and the
boys went inside. All there was to be seen now were empty shelves and
counters.
“But this will be a busy place in a few days,” said Mr. Martin. “If
those men were here now I could put them to opening the boxes and
barrels. Maybe they’ll come after dinner.”
He went outside to count how many boxes and barrels there were piled
up around the steps of the store, and while he was doing this Ted and
Trouble roamed about the clearing in the woods where the different
buildings were put up. Some were for the men to sleep in, another was
a kitchen, where food would be prepared, and at the sight of one large
building, with a smoke stack sticking through the roof, Ted cried:
“Oh, is that the sawmill?”
“That’s the sawmill,” his father answered. “But you must never go in
there unless I am with you. It’s dangerous.”
“Couldn’t we go with mother?” Ted wanted to know.
“Well, yes, with your mother. But there is a very big saw in there to
cut up the logs, and it would not only cut off your finger, if you got
too close, but it would do worse. So keep away!”
Ted and Trouble promised that they would, and they teased their father
so hard to take them to the sawmill now that, after he had looked over
the groceries and other supplies, he consented.
Leading from the mill down into the lake was a sort of small railroad
track, sloping like a little hill. And in the middle of the track, and
extending up into the mill, was a big chain.
“What’s that for?” asked Ted.
“That chain pulls the logs up from the river, along this inclined
runway, into the mill,” answered Mr. Martin. “Once the logs are in the
mill they are put on a sort of platform, or on a traveling cradle, and
then machinery pushes them close to the big buzz saw and they are cut
up into boards.”
“Is it a cat’s cradle?” Trouble wanted to know.
“Well, not exactly,” laughed Mr. Martin. “Come in and I’ll show you.
The mill isn’t running now, but it soon will be.”
“Does the chain pull the logs up all by itself?” Ted asked.
“No,” his father replied. “A steam engine winds the chain up on what
is called a drum, just as a rope is wound up on a derrick. In fact,
this runway is like a derrick, only it is stretched out on the ground
instead of being up in the air.”
The boys were much interested in looking over the machinery of the
lumber mill, and they wished for the day to come when it would
start--when the engine would puff and clouds of smoke and steam would
pour from the big stack in the roof.
“I think I hear your mother calling,” said Mr. Martin, after a while.
“We’d better have something to eat.”
Ted and Trouble had been so eager to look around that for a time they
had forgotten about being hungry. However, as their father now spoke of
it they hurried on to the bungalow. In the door stood Lucy, beating on
the bottom of a tin pan with a big spoon.
“Dish yeah am de dinnah gong,” she explained.
“Hurray!” cried Teddy, for he felt so glad and happy at coming to camp
in the woods that he wanted to stand on his head.
Mrs. Martin, with the help of Janet and Lucy, had gotten a fine meal
ready, and they were all so hungry that they greatly enjoyed it. When
it was almost over Janet, looking from the open door out toward the
lake, saw a boat approaching, in which were two men.
“Oh, two tramps are coming!” she murmured. “Will you give them
something to eat, Mother?”
Mr. Martin looked to where his little daughter pointed.
“Those aren’t tramps,” he said.
“They have terribly ragged clothes on,” said Janet.
“You mustn’t think because a man wears old and ragged clothes that he
is always a tramp,” went on Mr. Martin. “I think those are the two
lumbermen who are coming to help me set up the store. And on account of
their rough work, lumbermen cannot go about dressed up. Yes, they’re
lumbermen,” he said, as he saw the two step from the boat, carrying
their axes and some big hooks, with long, heavy handles, by which logs
are turned over and put into place.
“Is this Mr. Martin?” asked one of the men, as the father of the
Curlytops walked down the path toward the lake to meet them.
“That’s my name,” was the answer.
“Well, we were sent to help you in the store,” went on one of the men.
“The rest of the crowd will be over to-morrow. My name is Jack Nestor
and this is my partner, Henry Hart,” he concluded.
“Glad to know you,” replied Mr. Martin. “Well, there is plenty to do,
and the sooner we get started the better. Come on, I’ll show you what’s
to be done.”
While Mr. Martin was busy with those who were to be his helpers,
and while Mrs. Martin, Lucy and Janet were clearing away the dinner
things, Ted and Trouble wandered off through the woods. It was a most
delightful place, Ted decided.
“The best one I’ve ever been to on vacation,” he said.
Trouble, too, seemed to like it, running here and there in the woods.
Then the little fellow had one of his many ideas.
“Can you make me a whistle?” he asked his brother. “I want a whistle.”
“Yes, I guess I can make you a willow whistle,” said Ted, as he took
out his knife. “There’s a willow tree growing over there.” He pointed
to one near the bank of the lake, and soon he and Trouble were sitting
on a mossy log under the drooping willow tree while Ted cut a branch
and was fashioning it into a whistle for his brother.
Ted cut the bark around and pounded it to soften it so it could be
slipped off, for this must be done if a whistle is rightly made. Ted
used the handle of his knife to pound the bark lightly. Then he laid
his knife down on the log and began to twist off the piece of bark.
While waiting for his brother to do this Trouble had wandered about
the little clearing under the willow tree. Before Ted knew it Trouble
was out of his sight, and, hearing the little fellow tramping in the
underbrush, Ted started up after him.
“Here, come back!” he called to Trouble.
Trouble was headed for the lake, and he had been told he must not go
there alone.
“Come back here, you little tyke!” cried Ted. “First you know you’ll
fall in and I’ll have to fish you out.”
“Aw right, I come back,” agreed Trouble, stopping short. He feared if
he did not mind he would get no whistle. “I just go to see maybe if
fish in lake,” he said.
“You can’t tell by looking at a lake if it has fish in it or not,” said
Teddy. “Now you stay by me if you want that whistle.”
As the boys started back toward the log on which they had been sitting,
they saw a strange sight.
“Look! Look!” cried Trouble, pointing with a chubby finger toward the
log. “Look at black bird takin’ my whistle!”
“No, he isn’t taking your whistle, I have that here!” said Teddy.
“But it’s a crow and he’s after something. Oh, he’s got my knife!” he
cried a moment later, as the big, black bird rose from the log, with
something glittering held fast in his bill.