Two Young Lumbermen by Edward Stratemeyer

Before the morning meal was over Dale and Owen became acquainted with ten or a dozen of the lumbermen, all rough-and-ready fellows, but above the average of the lumber camps in manner and speech.

"I'm glad we didn't strike a tough crowd," said Dale, remembering a lumber camp he had once visited, in which drinking was in evidence all day long and the talk was filled with profanity.

"So am I," answered Owen. "But I knew this camp was O. K. from the way Winthrop talked."

Luke Paxton, the owner of the camp, was away, but he came in during the forenoon and had a talk with each of the new hands. He was of a similar turn to Winthrop, and asked Dale and Owen a number of short questions, all of which they answered promptly.

"I guess I knew your father," he said to Owen. "I used to have an interest in a lumber yard in Portland. He was a good man. " And then he turned away to give directions for putting up two additional shanties in the camp and a log cabin, which would become the general home of the lumbermen when cold weather set in.

That afternoon found Dale and Owen at work close to the camp, helping to cut the timbers for the new cabin. Joel Winthrop watched them as each brought down the first tree. "That's all right," he said, and then gave them directions for continuing their labors.

The men in the camp were divided into gangs of twenty to thirty persons, consisting of choppers or fellers, swampers, drivers or haulers, and a boss who watched the work, picking out the trees to be cut and directing just how they should be made to fall, so that they could be gotten away with the least trouble. Later in the season there would be sled drivers and tenders, or loaders, and also a man to bring out the midday meal when the gang was too far into the woods to come to camp to eat.

The building of the big cabin was no mean task, and it took one gang three weeks to do it. It was built of rough logs, notched and set together at the ends. There was a heavy ridge-pole, with a sloping roof of logs on either side, and the floor was also of logs, slightly smoothed on the upper side.

When the cabin proper was complete it was divided into two parts, each containing a window, and one a door in addition. One end was the sleeping room, with bunks built of rough boards, each bunk four feet wide and twelve feet long. Each bottom bunk had another over it, and each was meant for four sleepers, a pair at each end, with feet all together. The bunks had clean pine boughs in them, and a pair of regular camp blankets for each occupant.

The second apartment was that devoted to eating and general living purposes. The door was close to the cook's shanty, but when the weather grew colder the big cooking stove would be placed directly in the middle of the living room, to add its warmth to the comfort of the place. The stove was of course a wood burner, a square affair capable of taking in a log a yard long. For a dining table the deal table from outside was brought in, with its benches, and half a dozen empty provision boxes were also brought in for extra seats. To keep out the cold the cracks of the entire building were stuffed with mud, and on the inside certain parts were covered with heavy roofing paper and strips of bark.

"Now we are ready for cold weather," said Owen, when the cabin was finished and the most of the men of their gang had moved in. He and Dale had a small corner bunk which held but two, and in this they were "as snug as a bug in a rug," as the younger of the lumbermen declared.

The last of the choppers had now arrived, and it was found necessary to put up another cabin for them. Dale and Owen, however, did not work on this, but instead spent every day in the depths of the great forest, bringing down one tree after another, as Gilroy, who now had charge of the gang, directed. Each of the young lumbermen proved that he could swing an ax with the best of the workers, and Gilroy pronounced himself satisfied with all they did.

"It only shows what a young fellow can do when he's put to it," said the foreman one day to Owen. "Now, half these chaps are merely working for their wages and their grub. They do as little as they can for their money, and the minute the season is over they'll go down to Oldtown or Bangor, or some other city, and blow in every dollar they have earned."

"But this camp is better than lots of others."

"Yes, I know that. It's because old Winthrop and Mr. Paxton sort out the men they engage. They won't take every tramp who strikes them for a job."

The men often worked in sets of fours, and when this happened Dale and Owen's usual companions were Andrews and a short, stout French-Canadian named Jean Colette. Colette was good-natured to the last degree and full of fun in the bargain.

"Vat is de use to cry ven de t'ing go wrong," he would say. "My fadder he say you mus' laugh at eferyt'ing, _oui_! I laugh an' I no geet seek, neffair! I like de people to laugh, an' sing, an' dance. Dat ees best, _oui_!"

"You're right on that score," said Owen. "But some folks would rather grumble than laugh any day."

"Dat is de truf. _Bon! _ You play de feedle, de banyo; he play de mout' harmonee an' sing, an' yo' are happy, _oui_? I like dat. No bad man sing an' play, neffair! " And the little man bobbed his head vigorously.

"What a difference between a man like Colette and that Ducrot! " said Dale to Owen, later on. "Yet they come from the same place in Canada, so I've heard."