CHAPTER XI.
THE GREAT SPRING DRIVE.
At the sight of Frank's fall the three men gave a simultaneous shout ofalarm that caused the bear to halt for a moment in his fierce pursuit,and lifting his head to look angrily in the direction from which thesound had come. This action saved the helpless boy--striving to regainhis feet only a yard from death. The instant the creature's broad breastwas exposed, Johnston threw his rifle to his shoulder, and withoutwaiting to take aim, but ejaculating a fervent "Help me, O God!" pulledthe trigger. The report of the rifle rang out sharp and clear, the heavybullet sped through the air straight to its mark, and with it embedded inhis heart the mighty animal, leaving untouched the boy at his feet, madea mad bound across his body to reach the assailant who had given him hisdeath wound.
But it was a vain though gallant attempt. Ere he was half-way to theforeman, he staggered and rolled over upon the snow, and before he couldlift himself again the men were upon him, and Laberge, swinging his keenaxe high in the air, brought it down with a mighty blow upon the brute'sslanting forehead, letting daylight into his brain. Not even a bear couldsurvive such a stroke, and without a struggle the creature yielded up itslife.
Instantly the foreman sprang to Frank's side and lifted him upon hisfeet.
"My dear boy!" he cried, his face aflame with anxious love, as he claspedFrank passionately in his arms, "are you hurt at all? Did he touch you?"
What between his previous exertions and the big man's mighty embrace,poor Frank had hardly enough breath left in him to reply, but he managedto gasp out,--
"Not a bit. He never touched me."
"Are you quite sure now?" persisted Johnston, whose anxiety could not beat once relieved. "O my lad! my heart stood still when you fell downright in front of the brute."
"I'm quite sure, Mr. Johnston," said Frank. "See!" And to prove his wordshe gave a jump into the air, threw up his arms, and shouted, "Hip! hip!hurrah!" with the full force of his lungs.
"God be praised!" exclaimed the foreman. "What a wonderful escape! Letus kneel down right here, and give Him thanks," he added, suiting hisaction to his words. Frank at once followed his example; so too didLaberge and Booth; and there in the midst of the forest-wilds thisstrange praise-meeting was held over the body of the fierce creature fromwhose murderous rage Frank had been so happily delivered.
Johnston sent Laberge back to the tent for the toboggan, and beforedarkness set in the bear was dragged thither, where the two men skilfullyskinned him by the light of the camp fire, and stretched the pelt out todry.
The quartette had a long talk over the whole affair after supper had beendisposed of. Frank was plied with questions which he took much pleasurein answering, for naturally enough he felt himself to be in some measurethe hero of the occasion. While he could not help admiring and cordiallypraising Frank's audacity, the foreman felt bound to reprove him for it,and to impress upon him the necessity of showing more caution in future,or he might get himself into a situation of danger from which there mightbe no one at hand to deliver him. Frank, by this time thoroughly sobereddown, listened dutifully, and readily promised to be more careful if heever came across bear tracks again.
"Anyway, my boy," said Johnston, "you won't go home empty-handed; andwhen your mother sees those two skins, which are both pretty good ones,she'll think more of you than she ever did before."
"Yes, but you know," said Frank, "both skins oughtn't to be mine, for Ididn't kill either of the animals."
"Neither you did, Frank," replied Johnston, "but you came mighty nearkilling the one, and the other came mighty near killing you; so I thinkit's only fair you should have both.--Don't you think so, mates?" turningto the men.
"Ah, _oui_," exclaimed Laberge, with a vigorous nod of his head.
"Of course," added Booth, no less emphatically; and so the matter wassettled very much to Frank's satisfaction.
The next day the tent was packed and the little party set out for theshanty, which was reached in good time without anything eventfuloccurring on the way. They found the work of getting the logs down uponthe ice well nigh completed, and the foreman's return giving an impetusto the men's exertions, it was finished in a few days more, and thenthere was nothing to do but to await the breaking up of the ice.
They were not kept long in expectancy. The sun was now in full vigour;before his burning rays the snow and ice fled in utter rout; and thefrost king, confessing defeat, withdrew his grasp from the Kippewa,which, as if rejoicing in its release, went rippling and bounding merrilyon toward the great river beyond, bearing upon its bosom the manythousand logs which represented the hard labour of Camp Kippewa duringthe long cold winter months that were now past and gone. The most arduousand exciting phase of the lumberman's life had begun, the great springdrive, as they call it, and for weeks to come he would be engaged playingthe part of shepherd after a strange fashion, with huge, clumsy, unrulylogs for his flock, and the rushing river for the highway along whichthey should be driven.
The shantymen were divided into two parties, one section taking the teamsand camp-belongings back to the depot, the other and much larger sectionfollowing the logs in their journey to the mills. Johnston put himself atthe head of the latter, and Frank, of course, accompanied him, for theforeman was no less anxious to have him than the boy was to go. The bondsof affection that bound the two were growing stronger every day they weretogether. Frank regarded Johnston as the preserver of his life, andJohnston, on his part, looked upon Frank as having been in God's handsthe means of bringing light and joy to his soul. It might be said,without exaggeration, that either of them would risk his life in theother's behalf with the utmost willingness.
The journey down the river had to be done in light marching order. Notmuch baggage could be carried, so as not to burden too heavily the threeor four "_bonnes_," as they call the long, light, flat-bottomed boatspeculiar to lumbermen, which had been all winter awaiting the time whentheir services would be required. The shore work being beyond hisstrength, Frank was given a place in one of the _bonnes_ along withBaptiste, Laberge, and part of the commissariat, and it was their duty toprecede the main body of the men, and have their dinner and supper readyfor them when they came up. In this way Frank would get a perfect view ofthe whole business of river driving, and he was in high feather as theymade a start on a beautiful morning in early May, with the sun shiningbrightly, the air soft and balmy, and the river reflecting the blue ofthe unclouded heavens.
"Now take good care of Baptiste and the grub," said Johnston, with asmile, as he pushed the boat in which Frank was sitting off into thestream. "If you let anything happen to them, Frank, I don't know whatwe'll do to you."
"I'll do my best, sir," replied Frank, smiling back. "The boat won'tupset if I can help it, and as Baptiste can't swim, he'll do his best tobe careful too; won't you, Baptiste?"
"_Vraiment, mon cher_," cried Baptiste. "If we upset--poor Baptiste! zatwill be the last of him." And he shrugged his fat shoulders and made aserio-comic grimace that set everybody laughing.
If the Kippewa, through all its course, had been as deep and free fromobstructions as it was opposite the lumber camp, the river driverswould have had an easy time of it getting their wooden flock to market.But none of the rivers in this part of the country go quietly on theirway from source to outlet. Falls and rapids are of frequent occurrence,and it is these which add difficulty and danger to the lumberman'swork. Carrying pike-poles and cant-hooks, the former being simply longtough ash poles with a sharp spike on the business end, and the lattershorter stouter poles, something like the handle of a shovel, with acurious curved iron attachment that took a firm grip of a log and enabledthe worker to roll its lazy bulk over and over in the direction hedesired--with these weapons taking the place of the axe and saw, the menset off on their journey down the river side, two of the boats goingahead, and two bringing up the rear.
Frank felt in great spirits. He was thoroughly expert in the managementof a _bonne_, and the voyage down t
he river in this lovely spring weathercould be only continued enjoyment, especially as beyond steering the boathe had nothing to do, and it would be practically one long holiday. Therewere nearly twenty thousand logs to be guided, coaxed, rolled, and shovedfor one hundred miles or more through sullen pools, sleeping reaches,turbulent rapids, and roaring falls, where, as if they were livingthings, they would seem to exhaust every possible means of delay. The wayin which they would stick at some critical point and pile one uponanother, until the whole river was blocked, defies description; and oneseeing the spectacle for the first time might well be pardoned if he wereto be positive that there could be no way of bringing order out of sohopeless a confusion, and releasing the tangled obstructed mass.
For the first few days matters went very smoothly, the river beingdeep and swift, and the logs giving little trouble. Of course, numbers ofthem were continually stranding on the banks, but the watchful driverssoon spied them out, and with a push of the pike-pole, or drag of thecant-hook, sent them floating off again on their journey. At mid-day allthe men would gather about Baptiste's kettles and dispose of a heartydinner, and then again at night they would leave the logs to look afterthemselves while they ate their supper and talked, and then lay down torest their weary bodies. But this condition of things was too good tolast. In due time the difficulties began to show themselves, and thenFrank saw the most exciting and dangerous phase of a lumberman's life--apart of it with which when he grew older he must himself become familiarif he would be master of the whole business, as it was his ambition tobe.
The great army of logs, forging onward slowly or swiftly, according tothe force of the current, would come to a point where the stream narrowedand jagged rocks thrust their unwelcome heads above the surface. Thevanguard of the army, perhaps, passing either to right or left of therocks, would go on its way unchecked. But when the main body came up, andthe whole stream was full of drifting logs, some clumsy tree trunk goingdown broadside first would bring up short against the rock. As quickly asa crowd will gather in a city street, the other logs would cluster aboutthe one that obstructed their passage. There would be no stopping theon-rush. In less time than it takes to describe it, a hundred logs wouldbe jostling one another in the current; and every minute the confusionwould increase, until ere long the disordered mass would stretch fromshore to shore, the whole stream would be blocked up, and the event mostdreaded by the river driver would have taken place, to wit, a log jam.
The worst place that Johnston had to encounter in getting his drive oflogs to the river was at the Black Rapids, and never will Frank forgetthe thrilling excitement of that experience. These rapids were the terrorof the Kippewa lumbermen. They were situated in the swiftest part of theriver, and if Nature had in cold blood tried her utmost to give thedespoilers of her forest a hard nut to crack she could scarcely havesucceeded better. The boiling current was divided into two portions by ajagged spur of rock that thrust itself above the surging waters, and sosure as a log came broadside against this projection it was caught andheld in a firm embrace.
Johnston thoroughly understood this, and had taken every care toprevent a jam occurring; and if it had been possible for him to do whatwas in his mind--namely, to land upon the troublesome rock, and with hispike-pole push back again into the current every log that threatened tostick--the whole drive would have slipped safely by. He did make agallant attempt to carry this out, putting four of the best oarsmen intoFrank's boat, and trying again and again to force his way through thefierce current to the rock, while Frank watched him with breathlessinterest from the bank. But, strain and tug as the oarsmen might, theeddying, whirling stream was too strong for them, and swept them past therock again and again, until at length the foreman had to give uphis design as impracticable.
It was exciting work, and Frank longed very much to be in the boat; butJohnston, indulgent as he was toward his favourite, refused him thistime.
"No, no, Frank; I couldn't think of it," he said decidedly. "It's toorisky a business. The _bonne_ might be smashed any time, and if it didwe'd run a poor chance of getting out of these rapids. More than one goodman has gone to his death here."
"Have there been men killed in these rapids?" Frank asked, with a look ofprofound concern at his big friend, who was taking such risks. "The poorfellows! What a dreadful death! They must have been dashed against therocks. Surely you won't try it again, will you?" For it was dinner-time,and all hands were taking a welcome rest before resuming the toils of theday.
Johnston thoroughly understood and appreciated the boy's anxiety in hisbehalf, and there was a look of wonderful tenderness in his eyes as heanswered him:--
"I must try it once more, Frank; for if I can only get out to that rockthere'll be no jam this day. But don't you worry. I've taken bigger risksand come out all right."
So he made one more attempt, while Frank watched every movement of theboat, praying earnestly for its preservation. Again he failed, and the_bonne_ returned to the bank unharmed. But hardly had the weary menthrown themselves down for a brief spell of rest than what they all sodreaded happened. One of the logs, getting into a cross eddy, rolledbroadside against the rock. It was caught and held fast. Another andanother charged against it and stayed there. The main body of the drivewas now passing down, and every moment the jam increased in size. Soon itwould fill the whole stream. Yet the lumbermen were powerless to preventits growth. They could do nothing until it had so checked the currentthat it would be possible to make a way over to its centre.
So soon as this took place, Johnston, accompanied by three of his bestmen, armed with axes and cant-hooks, leaping from log to log with thesure agility only lumbermen could show, succeeded in reaching the heartof the jam, and at once proceeded to attack it with tremendous energy.One log after another was detached from the disordered mass and sentwhirling off down stream, until at the end of an hour's arduous exertion,the key-piece--that is, the log that had caused all the trouble--wasfound.
"Now, my boys," said Johnston to his men, "get ashore as quick as youcan. I'll stay and cut out the key-piece."
The men demurred for a moment. They were reluctant to leave their chiefalone in a position of such extreme peril. But he commanded them to go.
"There's only one man wanted," he said; "and I'll do it myself. It's nouse you risking your lives too."
So the men obeyed, and returned to the bank to join the group watchingJohnston's movements with intense anxiety. They all knew as well as hedid the exceeding peril of his position, and not one of them wouldbreathe freely until he had accomplished his task, and found his waysafely back to the shore.
CHAPTER XII.
HOME AGAIN.
For so large a man the foreman showed an agility that was reallywonderful, as he leaped from log to log with the swiftness and surenessof a chamois. He had been lumbering all his life, and there was nothingthat fell to the lumberman's experience with which he was not perfectlyfamiliar. Yet it is doubtful if he ever had a more difficult or dangeroustask than that before him now. The "key-piece" of the jam was fullyexposed, and once it was cut in two it would no longer hold theaccumulation of logs together. They would be released from their bondage,and springing forward with the full force of the pent-up current, wouldrush madly down stream, carrying everything before them.
But what would Johnston do in the midst of this tumult? A few moremoments would tell; for his axe was dealing tremendous strokes, beforewhich the key-piece, stout though it was, must soon yield. Ah, it isalmost severed. The foreman pauses for an instant and glances keenlyaround, evidently in order to see what will be his best course of actionwhen the jam breaks. Frank, in an agony of apprehension and anxiety, hassunk to his knees, his lips moving in earnest prayer, while his eyes arefixed on his beloved friend. Johnston's quick glance falls upon him, and,catching the significance of his attitude, his face is irradiated with aheavenly light of love as lie calls out across the boiling current,--
"God bless you, Frank! Keep praying."
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p; Then he returns to his work. The keen axe flashes through the air instroke after stroke. At length there comes a sound that cannot bemistaken. The foreman throws aside his axe and prepares to jump forlife; and, like one man, the breathless onlookers shout together as thekey-piece rends in two, and the huge jam, suddenly released, bursts awayfrom the rock and charges tumultuously down the river.
If ever man needed the power of prompt decision, it was the foreman then.To the men on shore there seemed no possible way of escape from theavalanche of logs; and Frank shut his eyes lest he should have to witnessa dreadful tragedy. A cry from the men caused him to open them againquickly, and when he looked at the rock it was untenanted--Johnston haddisappeared! Speechless with dread, he turned to the man nearest him, hisblanched countenance expressing the inquiry he could not utter.
"He's there," cried the man, pointing to the whirl of water behind thebody of logs. "He dived."
And so it was. Recognizing that to remain in the way of the jam was tocourt certain death, the foreman chose the desperate alternative ofdiving beneath the logs, and allowing them to pass over him before herose to the surface. Great was the relief of Frank and the others when,amid the foaming water, Johnston's head appeared, and he struck out tokeep himself afloat. But it was evident that he had little strength left,and was quite unable to contend with the mighty current. Good swimmer ashe was, the danger of drowning threatened him.
Frank's quick eyes noticed this, and like a flash the fearless boy, notstopping to call any of the others to his aid, bounded down the bank towhere the _bonne_ lay upon the shore, shoved her off into deep water,springing in over the bow as she slipped away, and in another moment waswhirling down the river, crying out at the top of his voice,--
"I'm coming! I'll save you! Keep up!"
His eager shouts reached Johnston's ears, and the sight of the boat,pitching and tossing as the current swept it toward him, inspired him torenewed exertion. He struggled to get in the way of the boat, andsucceeded so well that Frank, leaning over the side as far as he dared,was able to seize his outstretched hand and hold it until he could graspthe gunwale himself with a grip that no current could loosen. A gladshout of relief went up from the men at sight of this, and Frank, havingmade sure that the foreman was now out of danger, seized the oars andbegan to ply them vigorously with the purpose of beaching the _bonne_ atthe first opportunity. They had to go some distance before this could bedone, but Johnston held on firmly, and presently a projecting point wasreached, against which Frank steered the boat; and the moment she wasaground, he hastened to the stern and helped the foreman ashore, thelatter having just strength enough left to drag himself out of the waterand fall in a limp, dripping heap upon the ground.
"God bless you, Frank dear," he said, as soon as he recovered his breath."You've saved my life again. I never could have got ashore if you hadn'tcome after me. One of the logs must have hit me on the head when I wasdiving, for I felt so faint and dizzy when I came up that I thought itwas all over with me. But, thank God, I'm a live man still; and I'm sureit's not for nothing that I've been spared."
The men all thought it a plucky act on Frank's part to go off alone inthe boat to the foreman's rescue, and showered unstinted praise upon him;all of which he took very quietly, for, indeed, he felt quitesufficiently rewarded in that his venture was crowned with success. Theexciting incident of course threw everybody out in their work, and whenthey returned to it they found that the logs had taken advantage of theirbeing left uncared for to play all sorts of queer pranks and runthemselves aground in every conceivable fashion.
But the river drivers did not mind this very much. The hated Black Rapidswere passed, and the rest of the Kippewa was comparatively smoothsailing. So, with song and joke, they toiled away until all their chargeswere afloat again and gliding steadily onward toward their goal.Thenceforward they had little interruption in their course; and Frankfound the life wonderfully pleasant, drifting idly all day long in the_bonne_, and camping at night beside the river, the weather being bright,and warm, and delightful all the time.
So soon as the Kippewa rolled its burden of forest spoils out upon thebroad bosom of the Ottawa--the Grand River, as those who live beside itsbatiks love to call it--the work of the river drivers was over. The logsthat had caused them so much trouble were now handed over to the care ofa company which gathered them up into "tows," and with powerful steamersdragged them down the river until the sorting grounds were reached, wherethey were turned into the "booms" to await their time for execution--inother words, their sawing up.
Frank felt really sorry when the driving was over. He loved the water,and would have been glad to spend the whole summer upon it. He wastelling Johnston this as they were talking together on the evening of thelast day upon the Kippewa. Johnston had been saying to him how glad hemust be that the work was all over, and that they now could go over tothe nearest village and take the stage for home. But Frank did notentirely agree with him.
"I'm not anxious to go home by stage," said he. "I'd a good deal ratherstick to the river. I think it's just splendid, so long as the weather'sfine."
"Why, what a water-dog you are, Frank!" said the foreman, laughing. "Onewould think you'd have had enough of the water by this time."
"Not a bit of it," said Frank, returning the smile. "The woods in winter,and the water in summer--that's what I enjoy."
"Well, but aren't you in a hurry to get home and see your mother again?"queried Johnston.
"Of course I am," answered Frank. "But, you see, a day or two won't makemuch difference, for she doesn't know just when to look for me; and I'venever been on this part of the Ottawa, and want to see it ever so much."
"Well--let me see," reflected Johnston. "How can we manage it? You'd soonget sick of the steamers. They're mortal slow and very dirty. Besides,they don't encourage passengers, or they'd have too many of them. Buthold on!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up with a new idea. "I've gotit. How would you like to finish the rest of the trip home on a squaretimber raft? There'll be one passing any day, and I know 'most all themen in the business, so there'll be no difficulty about getting apassage."
"The very idea!" cried Frank, jumping up and bringing his hand down uponhis thigh with a resounding slap. "Nothing would please me better. Oh,what fun it will be shooting the slides!" And he danced about in delightat the prospect.
"All right then, my lad," said Johnston, smiling at the boy's exuberance."We'll just wait here until a raft comes along, and then we'll board herand ask the fellows to let us go down with them. They won't refuse."
They had not long to wait, for the very next day a huge raft hove insight--a real floating island of mighty timbers--and on going out to itin the _bonne_, Johnston was glad to find that the foreman in charge wasan old friend who would be heartily pleased at having his company for therest of the voyage. So he and Frank brought their scanty baggage onboard, and joined themselves to the crew of men that, with the aid of atowing steamer, were navigating this very strange kind of craft down theriver.
This was an altogether novel experience for Frank, and he found it muchto his liking. The raft was an immense one.
"As fine a lot of square timber as I ever took down," said its captainproudly. "It's worth five thousand pounds if it's worth a penny."
Five thousand pounds! Frank's eyes opened wide at the mention of thisvast sum, and he wondered to himself if he should ever be the owner ofsuch a valuable piece of property. Although he had begun as a chore-boy,his ambition was by no means limited to his becoming in due time aforeman like Johnston, or even an overseer like Alec Stewart. He allowedhis imagination to carry him forward to a day of still greater things,when he should be his own master, and have foremen and overseers underhim. This slow sailing down the river was very favourable to daydreaming, and Frank could indulge himself to his heart's content duringthe long lovely spring days. There were more than twoscore men upon theraft, the majority of them habitants and half-breeds, and they were asfull of songs as ro
bins; especially in the evening after supper, whenthey would gather about the great fire always burning on its clay bed inthe centre of the raft, and with solo and chorus awake the echoes of theplacid river.
In common with the rivers which pour into it, the Ottawa is broken bymany falls and rapids, and to have attempted to run the huge raft overone of these would have insured its complete destruction. But thisdifficulty is duly provided for. At one side of the fall a "slide" isbuilt--that is, a contrivance something like a canal, with sides andbottom of heavy timber, and having a steep slope down which the waterrushes in frantic haste to the level below. Now the raft is not puttogether in one piece, but is made up of a number of "cribs"--a cribbeing a small raft containing fifteen to twenty timbers, and being abouttwenty-four feet wide by thirty feet in length. At the head of the slidethe big raft is separated into the cribs, and these cribs make thedescent one at a time, each having three or four men on board.
Shooting the slides, as it is called, is a most delightful amusement topeople whose nerves don't bother them. Frank had heard so much about itthat he was looking forward to it from the time he boarded the raft, andnow at Des Joachim Falls he was to have the realization. He went down inone of the first cribs, and this is the way he described the experienceto his mother:--
"But, mother, the best fun of the whole thing is shooting the slides. Ijust wish there was a slide near Calumet, so that I could take you downand let you see how splendid it is. Why, it's just like--let me see--I'vegot it! It's just like tobogganing on water. You jump on board the cribat the mouth of the slide, you know, and it moves along very slowly atfirst, until it gets to the edge of the first slant; then it takes asudden start, and away it goes shooting down like greased lightning,making the water fly up all around you, just like the snow does whenyou're tobogganing. Oh, but if it isn't grand! The timbers of the cribrub against the bottom of the slide, and groan and creak as if it hurtthem. And then, besides coming in over the bow, the water spurts upbetween the timbers, so that you have to look spry or you're bound to getsoaking wet. I got drenched nearly every time; but that didn't matter,for the sun soon made me dry again, and it was too good fun to mind alittle wetting."
Frank felt quite sorry when the last of the slides was passed, and wishedthere were twice as many on the route of the raft. But presently he hadsomething else to occupy his thoughts, for each day brought him nearer toCalumet, and soon his journeyings by land and water would be ended, andhe would be at home again to make his mother's heart glad.
It was the perfection of a spring day when the raft, moving in itsleisurely fashion--for was not the whole summer before it?--reachedCalumet, and Mrs. Kingston, sitting alone in her cottage, and wonderingwhen her boy would make his appearance, was surprised by an unceremoniousopening of the front door, a quick step in the hall, and a suddenenfolding by two stout arms, while a voice that she had not heard formonths shouted in joyous accents,--
"Here I am, mother darling, safe and sound, right side up with care, andoh, so glad to be at home again!"
Mrs. Kingston returned the fond embrace with interest, and then heldFrank off at arms-length to see how much he had changed during his sixmonths' absence. She found him both taller and stouter, and with his facewell browned by the exposure to the bright spring sunshine.
"You went away a boy, and you've come back almost a man, Frank," shesaid, her eyes brimming with tears of joy. "But you're my own boy thesame as ever; aren't you, darling?"
It was many a day before Frank reached the end of his story of life atthe lumber camp, for Mrs. Kingston never wearied of hearing all about it.When she learned of his different escapes from danger, the inclination ofher heart was to beseech him to be content with one winter in the woods,and to take up some other occupation. But she wisely said nothing, forthere could be no doubt as to the direction in which Frank's heartinclined, and she determined not to interfere.
When in the following autumn Frank went back to the forest, he was againunder Johnston's command, but not as chore-boy. He was appointed clerkand checker, with liberty to do as much chopping or other work as hepleased. Whatever his duty was he did it with all his might, doing itheartily as to the Lord and not unto men, so that he found increasingfavour in his employer's eyes, rising steadily higher and higher until,while still a young man, he was admitted into partnership, and had thesweet satisfaction of realizing the day dreams of that first trip downthe Ottawa on a timber raft.
Yet he never forgot what he had learned when chore-boy of Camp Kippewa,and out of that experience grew a practical philanthropic interest in thewell-being and advancement of his employees, that made him the mostpopular and respected "lumber-king" on the river.
THE END.
The Young Woodsman; Or, Life in the Forests of Canada Page 11