A LUMBER CAMP IN WINTER
THE boss of the machinery crew came by the morning train and the next
day the entire party were ready to start on their way.
The men rode, while the women and children sat in a comfortable
carry-all drawn by four horses. The baggage and extra camp outfits were
packed in a cart drawn by two mules.
"Jus' like a picture of folks going west in the gold-fever time,"
ventured Don, looking ahead at the escort and behind at the cart and a
few riders.
"Let's play we are pioneers, shall we?" cried Dot, always ready for an
exciting adventure.
"And Mete can be the pioneer and Venie his wife. Babs will be their only
child," explained Don.
"Then who are we?" asked Dot.
"Me and you? Why, we are the Indians that hold up the wagon and shoot
everyone," replied Don, trying to look savage.
"Oh, dear, if we had only known this we could have worn our Indian suits
that we left home," sighed Dot.
"Never mind; I'll pin on this horse-blanket that's under the seat, and
you can wrap this linen dust-coat about you," said Don, dragging the
blanket out from its hiding place.
"I won't look a bit like an Indian in that old coat. Can't you see
another blanket with stripes on it?" asked Dot.
"Not a blanket, but here's a plaid lap-cover," replied Don, as he spied
the cotton cover under the blanket.
"What are you children pulling from under that seat?" asked Mrs. Starr,
who always watched the twins in fear and trembling.
"We're jus' goin' to be Indians and wear these things," explained Don,
carelessly.
Meredith had been sitting with the driver of the cart for some time,
hearing stories of life in the wilds, and Lavinia had been playing with
Babs during the time the travelling was bad, when the wagons went
slowly.
This was Don's opportunity.
Dot and he managed to get out of the back of the carry-all unnoticed.
They hid behind some bushes and as the leaders came opposite, Don jumped
out and shouted, dancing about and waving a club over his head. Dot
followed her brother's example, and both pranced and shrieked such
blood-curdling yells that Mrs. Starr almost fainted while Mrs. Latimer
hurriedly leaned out of the wagon to see who had been run over.
The horses merely jumped at the unexpected apparitions, then kept
plodding up the hill. Don and Dot clambered up the steps of the
carry-all trying to mimic the real scalpers, but Mrs. Starr caught each
one by an arm and bade them sit down and not get out again without her
permission.
Meredith had witnessed the whole performance from the cart and laughed
teasingly at the climax of the raid.
The journey took two days; the first day, at five o'clock, Mr. Latimer
called a halt for camp. This part of the trip was great sport for the
children for they roamed about the woods while the men cut fir branches
for beds, and watched the cook prepare a fine dinner out in the
wilderness.
The second day, about noon, the travellers reached the place selected
for a permanent camp. Of course, everyone was deeply interested in the
novel appearance of their winter home and, as soon as the twelve o'clock
dinner was served, started in to investigate the quarters.
The children trailed after the grownups, making their own observations
of affairs.
The bosses' cabins were among some magnificent trees, about one hundred
yards from the main camp. They were rough little log huts large enough
to hold four bunks, two on either side--a lower and an upper bunk--and
a chest of drawers at the side opposite the door. An opening in the roof
gave ventilation, and a small square window at each side of the chest of
drawers gave light in the daytime. The only light to be had at night was
from a candle, and heat, if the city folks needed any, must be had from
oil heaters, several of which had been included in the outfit.
The bunks of the crew were directly opposite the "bosses'" huts. A large
cleared space lay between the two sections, and at one end stood the
cook's quarters, with a long shed-like cabin in front of it to screen
the kitchen from the company. This shed was dining-room, parlor, and
general social center. At the fourth side, opposite the dining-room and
kitchen, was a commodious office with three rooms. Here the clerical
force worked, and the bosses planned and ordered the work of the
company.
This sort of life suited Don and Dot perfectly, and they peeped into
every bunk, and hovered about the kitchen, with the satisfaction of
having reached the great goal in life.
"This bunk is for the children--Don and Dot, Venie and Babs," explained
Mr. Starr, showing the bunks adjoining the hut which would be occupied
by himself and wife.
"Can't Dot and I have a hut all to ourselves?" asked Don, who hoped to
have great fun in these little huts.
"Not much!" laughed Mr. Starr. "I doubt if Venie can keep you two in
order, but we will try it."
"Where's Mete going to live?" asked Dot eagerly.
"Meredith and Paul will have bunks in the same hut with the foreman, and
Elizabeth has a bunk partitioned off from her father and mother's half
of a hut," replied Mrs. Starr.
"Well, guess I'll have a look at my house," ventured Don, stepping into
the log cabin which was to be his abode for a time.
"Dot, look'a here! they don't have bed-springs in these bunks,"
whispered Don, lifting up a corner of a sweet smelling mattress.
"And the mattress! What is it stuffed with?" exclaimed Dot.
"Don't know, but it smells fine, don't it?" said Don.
Meredith and Paul peeped in just then and seeing the two examining the
beds, laughed.
"You ought to see ours, if you think the company ought to provide you
with Dutch feather-beds," said Paul.
"What are yours?" Don asked.
"Just balsam branches heaped up in the bunks; we spread a blanket over
them at night and sink into peaceful dreams."
"Then we want balsam branches, too," demanded Dot.
"Why should we have these things if the other men have branches?"
queried Don.
"We'll ask Daddum next time we see him," said Meredith, as Paul and he
continued on their way.
"Dot, we'll just go over and take a look at those balsam beds. If we
like them better, we will ask Mumzie to have ours changed. If ours is
best, we won't say anything," whispered astute Don.
They found Paul's bunk filled with balsam branches as he said, but they
felt perfectly content with their nice soft mattresses after the balsam
had been tested.
Before any further matters of interest could be found, a deafening sound
came from the cook's quarters. The twins ran out to the clearing to find
the meaning of the noise, and saw one of the cook's helpers walking
about banging a wooden potato-masher furiously upon the bottom of a
brass pan. The echoes of the strokes could be heard coming from every
direction in the forest.
"What's that for?" asked Don, running over to Mose, the helper.
"I'se callin' you-alls for dinner," grinned Mose.
"Hey, Dot! come quick," called Don, turning to see if his sister was in
sight. "It's dinner time, and Mose is ringin' the bell."
Without further ado, Don went over to the shed and looked for his place
at the long table. For once he was undecided. There were two long
tables, and the places set were so exactly alike that Don was not sure
where he was supposed to sit.
"Where are all of the other men, Daddum?" asked Lavinia, seeing that
only half of the men were present.
"They have been cutting out rough roads from our timber to the river,
and have taken their dinner in pails, as it is too far for them to come
to camp and then return afterward," said Mr. Starr.
"What river, Daddum?" asked Don, quickly.
"The river down which the logs float in the spring," said Mr. Starr.
"Do you own the river?" asked Dot, wondering how much of the earth her
father possessed.
"We own the right to use it for our logging business," replied Mr.
Starr, and smiled at his little girl's disappointed look.
"Why do they cut roads, Daddum? Aren't there any ready made that you can
use?" asked Dot.
"Not in the forests, Dot. We have to break out roadways so the heavy
skidding and loading machines can go in among the trees and lift the cut
timber up and on the sledges that will cart it down to the water,"
explained Mr. Starr.
"You will soon be able to see the way it has to be done and then you
will understand better," added Mr. Latimer.
"When can we see--this afternoon?" asked Don, impatiently.
"Maybe you will have time to go with me directly after dinner," hinted
Mr. Latimer.
"Yes, yes! Of course we will, 'cause we don't begin lessons 'till
Monday, you know," exclaimed Don and Dot together.
The rice pudding was almost forgotten that day, so eager were the
children to go and see the interesting work of the men of the camp.
They trudged along the newly cut road which they had travelled over in
the morning, but, after walking for half a mile, Mr. Latimer left the
road and went along a narrow trail that ran into the thick forest.
Walking along this for a mile or so, the children heard the sound of
chopping, and crashes every now and then, and the shouting of men to
each other. In about ten minutes' time they could see moving figures
between the thick trunks of trees, and soon came to the place where the
road was being broken out.
Here, indeed, was activity and exciting work. The children were
cautioned about the danger.
Don watched with every faculty strained to its utmost. He saw an
opening through the thick growth of pine trees running far into the
depths of the forest. In the opposite direction, where the men were
working, the forest remained intact.
"Guess that's the road Daddum said they were breaking out," he
commented, to the other children.
"An' that's what they have to cut down to get out to the river," added
Paul, pointing toward the thick trees on the other side.
Suddenly, a shout of "Ye-ho!" was heard and the lumbermen ran off in
every direction, while a crackling sound came from the tree that was
being cut; in another moment down crashed the giant pine, tearing away
obstructing branches from other trees.
"Oh!" sighed Don, clutching his hands in tense interest, and the other
children sat as rigid as statues until the tree was down.
Some men instantly hopped upon the fallen giant and started lopping off
the branches, while the other men began work on the next tree in the
road.
The "breaking out" of the road through the virgin forest kept on in this
way until the men were some distance farther on than they were when the
children first came upon the scene. When Mr. Latimer returned to take
them back to camp they were quite willing to go.
That evening the children had a great deal to tell their mothers and Don
added, "Guess I'll be a lumberman when I'm big."
"Have you decided to give up the canal-boat life that you promised Molly
you would lead?" asked his father, teasingly.
"Well, a man can run a canal-boat and be a lumberman, too, can't he?"
returned Don, not willing to admit his loss of interest in the
canal-boat life.
"I always said that it was better for a man to do one thing and do that
well, than to try and do several things poorly," hinted Mr. Starr.
The others laughed, for one of Don's weaknesses was to take a
tremendous interest in anything new and then leave it half finished for
the next absorbing idea.
"Well, I'm eating these pork and beans just now, and I'm doing it well,
ain't I?" retorted Don, making everyone laugh again.
"Dot and you always do the meal-work thoroughly," replied Mrs. Starr,
still laughing.
No one about the table that evening seemed to have a failing appetite,
for the wonderful pine-scented air and the unusual life made everyone
hungry for the brown bread, beans, baked potatoes, and slices of crisp
ham.
A huge log fire was built in the center of the clearing and,
immediately after supper, the crew and the bosses' families sat about
it in a circle while the "timber-children," as Mr. Latimer called them,
told the other children wild stories of adventures in the forests.
Don sat with wide-opened eyes and body leaning forward listening eagerly
to every word. These tales were stored away in his mind for some future
development or use.
At eight o'clock Mr. Latimer called out, "Youngsters' bedtime!"
"Why we never have to go so early as this," said Don.
"In a lumber camp every man goes to bed at nine o'clock, sometimes
earlier, if the day is long. We are up at five, you see, and work from
six. Just wait until you see us work some nights until long after your
tired eyes have closed," explained Mr. Latimer.
"Crickets! From five until night! I guess I wouldn't like _that_ life!"
announced Don, emphatically.
"No, indeed," added Meredith, while everyone laughed at Don's honest
confession. "Don loves his warm bed in winter."
As the children rose to leave the fire, they thanked the men for the
entertainment and said good-night. The engine-driver had been quite near
to Don all evening and now Don asked a question.
"'Most ready with that engine that I'm goin' to help you with?"
"Not yet, Mister Don; we have to break out that road before I can run my
engine in there, you see," whispered the man.
Perfectly contented to think that he wouldn't miss any fun on that
engine, Don said good-night to Jim and ran after the family who were on
the way to the bunks.