Kitabı oku: «Five Little Starrs in the Canadian Forest», sayfa 2
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.
CHAPTER III
THE INDIAN TRAPPER
THE routine of life in a lumber camp never became tiresome, but it systematized matters for the children. Every morning at five o'clock the rising gong was beaten by the cook's helper, and at five-thirty the men had breakfast. The families ate at six-thirty, and at seven-thirty an hour was given to study of the daily lessons. Then an hour of freedom came, followed by three hours of close application to school. The classes met in one of the large rooms of the office building and Miss Miller had scholars who were eager to study, for not one of them wished to be detained after school; there were too many wonderful things to be done, and being detained after school hours meant the missing of some of the wonders.
After the first week in camp the children became quite resigned to the early rising and breakfast, for it seemed to lengthen out the hours of the day so that a great deal more could be crowded into the time for fun and play.
On the second Sunday in camp everyone was sitting in the dining-room listening while Mr. Latimer read the service. He had finished the Bible reading and suggested a hymn that all of the men knew by heart, when the door opened at one end of the shed and a queer old face peered in.
Don sat nearest the door and, seeing a stranger at the door, nudged his twin. She leaned over and stared at the wrinkled skin, twinkling eyes, and long straight hair.
"Why, Don, it's an Injun!" whispered Dot, with surprise.
By this time the door had opened far enough to admit the stranger and he stepped in and squatted down just inside.
Most of the men sitting with faces toward the door saw him but the reader and part of his audience were not aware of the visitor. Dot nudged her father and whispered about the Indian's presence. The service continued, however, without interruption, to the final song. Then many of the men rose and came over to the visitor.
"Hello, Wilotemike! Where'd you come from?"
"Wilotemike! Let me see him!" exclaimed Mr. Starr, in great surprise. He stepped out before the old Indian and saw the same friendly trapper that had advised his friend Dean about the flooded river, and entertained them for a week. He came forward and held out a welcoming hand.
"Well, well, I don't believe you know me, Mike, do you?" asked Mr. Starr, grasping the old man's hand.
After thinking deeply for a few moments, the Indian's face lit up and he smiled recognition at Mr. Starr.
"Mike know friend! Many moons he not come back!" said the Indian reprovingly.
"Not my fault, Mike. Me want to come but find a nice squaw and she keep me home," laughed Mr. Starr, beckoning for his wife to join him.
Of course the children were shown to Mike and the old Indian smiled as he allowed his hand to light gently upon Bab's yellow curls.
Most of the timber men knew Mike, or had heard of the trapper, and he was generally welcomed at any camp he visited. In this case, however, he was doubly welcome, for he was a friend of one of the bosses, and the story soon went the rounds of the entire camp.
"Going to visit us for the winter, Mike?" asked Mr. Latimer, thinking of the great boon he would be to go about with the children after school hours. Knowing the forests as he did, he could teach and show them everything and at the same time prevent any danger from coming to them.
"Mike set traps nex' moon, way up mountain," replied Mike, laconically.
"Mike stay here till time for trap to catch big game!" eagerly came from Mr. Starr, who sensed part of Mr. Latimer's plan.
"Mike, get much money for time he stay. Mike show little ones all over woods and teach many good things about everything!" added Mr. Latimer.
By this time the ladies realized what the two men were after, and abetted the plan with all of their persuasions.
Mike stood uncertain. He smiled down at the children who showed in their faces how delightful life would be with a real Indian trapper to show them about the woods, while the ladies urged the proposition resistlessly, and the men stood waiting expectantly for an answer.
"Mike not make much pelts las' year. Not eat much this year. Mike tink dis snow make a big pelt time – make much money," explained the trapper.
"Mike take all this money from this day to trapper's day. Mike go to mountain on trapper day and set traps. Watch much. Get big pelt and come back soon; Mike make more money here with white man," spoke Mr. Starr, taking a roll of bills from his pocket and counting out fifty dollars upon the table, giving Mike to understand that the money was his if he would remain in camp until December 15, which day was generally Trapper's Day in the North.
The Indian looked about at the faces and saw only the kindly desire to have him remain, and his eyes became misty at the unusual welcome from the white men.
Don and Dot could hardly restrain their impatience to have Mike say "yes," so Don ran over, took the dark hand of the trapper in both his and shook it, saying, "Come on, Mike, we want you."
The children all flocked about, coaxing the Indian to remain, until he smiled and consented to be their guard after school hours. Miss Miller heaved an audible sigh of relief, for she had had her troubles in the last two weeks, trying to keep Babs and the twins always in a "safety circle" beneath her watchful eye.
Cook came in just then and asked a question.
"Hey, boss, when is church out? My dinner is cooked an' waitin' fer the two boys to set up de tables."
At that everyone hurried out that the cook might not be delayed in his programme of feeding so many hungry people.
"Take Mike into the office and tell him all you have seen since you have been here," suggested Mr. Latimer to the children.
While the children danced over the frozen ground showing the Indian the way to the office, the elders gathered in the Starr's log hut and discussed the value of the trapper.
"Everybody knows Mike for hundreds of miles around this part of the country, and he knows every foot of ground, the depth of waters, the bog-lands, and the haunts of wild animals. He is as true and honorable as any white man, and more trustworthy than many," explained Mr. Starr.
"He is almost too old a man to continue trapping, I should think," remarked Mr. Latimer. "Why, he must be almost seventy years old."
"More than that, I think," replied Mr. Starr.
"You never can tell an Indian's age after a certain period. He may be a hundred and fifty and he would not show it any more than to-day," said Mrs. Latimer.
"Well, the one essential thing is that he is perfectly capable and agile enough to guard the children in their wanderings," added Mrs. Starr, who was greatly relieved to have such a treasure.
"If he would consent to give up trapping this winter, I would willingly pay him more than he will get out of any pelts he might get. And life here would be much easier for him without being too civilized," said Mr. Starr.
"Well, we'll let him try it for a time and perhaps he will like the children enough to wish to remain for the season," suggested Mr. Latimer.
Meanwhile, the children were having a glorious time with their new friend and guardian. The twins were enchanted to be living with a real, true Indian, and Babs seemed to take a violent fancy to the long haired old man.
Mike was like one of the children, telling them Indian legends in his own queer English, which Paul called "Pidgin English." The afternoon passed quickly for the children and they were all amazed when the gong banged for supper.
The following day while the children were at school, Mike looked about the camp with curiosity and then walked away to see how much timber the men had cut. Unknown to anyone, Babs quietly crept after her new play-fellow, and soon was out of sight of the camp.
Babs was past three years and quite able to amuse herself at times, and since coming to the woods she had enjoyed playing in the clearing with a toy shovel and pick and a blunt axe. She liked to make believe she was chopping down trees and piling them up in tiny heaps of firewood that cook's helper generally used for kindlings. No one was concerned about the child as she had played quietly in that way for several days and she was not given to adventure like the twins. So, it was with a startled expression that Mrs. Starr called Babs and, receiving no reply, went to the door of the log cabin to find her. As no Babs was to be seen, and nobody had seen her anywhere for the past half hour, Mrs. Starr felt frightened.
Mrs. Starr and Mrs. Latimer ran over to the school room to inquire, but no one had seen Babs there. Then, they ran to the office where the two bosses were writing and figuring, but neither one of them had seen Babs.
"Where's Mike?" asked Mr. Starr.
"Oh, I never thought of him," replied Mrs. Starr with a feeling of relief.
"If Mike isn't about the clearing you can rest assured that he has Babs with him, and she is as safe as she would be in bed," said Mr. Starr, going out of the office to inquire about Mike at the cook's quarters.
As Mike had not been seen about for an hour, there was no doubt that Babs and he were out together.
Now Mike had loped silently over the frozen ground toward the direction of the timber cutting, without ever looking behind him. Had he glanced back he might have seen a tiny little girl making great efforts to follow after him. Mike was too entirely a creature of nature to walk in a beaten path when a short-cut through the woods saved so many steps. Therefore, Babs found her path beset by many obstacles as she tried to follow exactly in the way Mike had chosen.
Her short little legs could not keep up with his agile old ones, and soon Babs was left behind. Try as she would she could not run fast enough to find Mike again. She could barely remember in which direction she last saw him going, and finally, she sat down upon a flat rock and cried. She was tired, she was hungry, she wanted to go home, and she wanted Mike. But not one of these wants were satisfied, and she cried lustily for someone to come and find her.
Since living in the forest, Mother had often warned the children never to go out of sight of the clearing, for there might be bears about the woods. To add to her fear of being lost, came a queer sound among the underbrush.
"Oh, it's a bear!" wailed Babs, trying to locate the wild beast and seeking shelter behind a huge tree.
She hugged the immense trunk of the pine while she poked her yellow head out to see if the bear was in sight, but he had not yet come into view.
She stood behind the tree until wearied of inaction, and as the noise could no longer be heard, crept out of hiding, and Babs started off in a direction she hoped would bring her to Mike. She stumbled and fell over roots, got up and went on again; dodged between the thick growth of pine trees, and finally came to the road that was broken out by the men when they first came to camp – the road that led to the trail running into town.
Babs was thankful to find a road but not sure which direction to take, and when a little girl is very tired and hungry and forlorn the work of thinking hard is apt to put her to sleep, especially if she sits down upon a large pile of pine needles and leans against a stump to think. And so it was with Babs. She leaned her tousled curls against the stump and closed her eyes.
In taking the short-cut to the timber-cutters, Mike had seen tracks of wild hares and quail, and finding that the work in the timber was not as interesting as he thought it would be, he decided to follow the road back and get his rifle to shoot some game for the cook.
He was quietly loping along the road when he saw the little white hood bobbing down behind the pine stump.
Mike looked all about for some evidence of the children or elders, but not a sign or sound was to be heard except the strange cracklings of forest silences. Mike gave a shrill whistle to call anyone who had strayed close by, but no one answered except Babs who was suddenly awakened from her nap.
"O-oh, Mike! Did oo know I is losted affer oo?" said she, rubbing her eyes with her mittened hands.
"Mike take Babby home," coaxed Mike, lifting the child to his shoulder.
Reaching the clearing Mike carried Babs over to the office where he heard how everyone missed the child and, finding that Mike was gone also, they felt that Babs was safe, for doubtless the two were together.
Mike understood perfectly but said nothing about finding Babs alone a mile from the clearing, for he silently vowed never to leave the little one alone again.
So the devotion of the old man proved a great boon to Babs, for she soon knew many simple wood-secrets that Mike taught her, as well as being shown the homes of hares, quail, squirrels, and other small denizens of the forests.
One day, Mike went off alone, with his rifle over his shoulder. Babs had to remain indoors that day as she had fallen into a pool of water and had to have all of her clothes dried in the kitchen. That night Mike came into camp with a medium sized deer slung over his back. Everyone was interested in the event and watched Mike hang it up by the legs, while he went to his tiny log hut and brought out a sharp knife. The deer was soon skinned and the meat cut up into steaks and chops which were sent over to the cook. The skin was then prepared, as only an Indian can cure it, and left for a time to season.
"What are you going to do with it, Mike?" asked Don.
But Mike smiled as he shook his head, refusing to tell.
The children insisted, however, and Mike confessed that he intended making a deer-skin suit for Babs to wear out-of-doors.
CHAPTER IV
THE ENGINEER'S ASSISTANTS
ONE day, soon after Babs' adventure in the woods, Mr. Starr received a letter from a large machine company at Grand Forks. He read it aloud at the dinner table, thereby making all of the timber men very happy.
"The skidder is on the road, boys," said Mr. Starr.
"She is!"
"When will she git here?"
"Mos' time – we are beginnin' to need her!"
These and many other exclamations greeted his news, and Mr. Starr looked at the date of the postmark to figure out the time they might expect the skidder to arrive at camp.
"The roads are frozen fine and hard now, and there hasn't been any snow except a few flakes now and then, so she ought to get here by tomorrow, I should think," replied Mr. Starr.
"It'll begin to look as if we were workin' some, when the logs begin to move out toward the river," declared the foreman.
"She'll have some logs to haul!" said Mr. Latimer, pleasing the men by the suggested praise of their work.
"What's a skidder, Daddum?" asked Dot.
"Why do you call it a she?" added Don.
While many who heard Don's question, laughed, Mr. Starr tried to explain to the twins what a skidder was and what use it was.
"Then the engineer has to drive her, eh?" asked Don, eagerly looking over at Jim.
"Yes, he has to steer her, watch over her steam works, and keep her from going into the crooked paths of evil," laughed Mr. Latimer.
"She sure does get into evil ways, sometimes," added Jim, laughingly.
"Why, I saw one of 'em once, that was reely possessed with a contrary spirit. She never would go the road she was shown, but allus went down a side track as like a horse that shies as anything I ever saw," exclaimed Bill.
"Ah, but Bill, yeh know why she shied that way!" said Jerry. "She was put together skew-geed an' one side of her was so out of geer that she couldn't run straight even on a macadam road."
"There's everything in puttin' the parts together right, Mr. Starr. Is the fact'ry goin' to send a man down to show us how to gear her up and run her?" asked Jim.
"Yes, indeed. We wouldn't take any chances with such an expensive machine unless a machinist came along to show us what to do in case of emergency."
The next day a caravan hove into sight coming slowly along the new road leading in from the old trail. As the first team came to the road broken out from the timber to the river, some of the lumbermen spied it. They shouted and soon every man that could get away from his job gathered about the interesting machinery. There were four trucks and four horses to each truck. The machinists who came from Grand Forks to put the different parts of the skidder together, jumped down from the driver's seats and shook hands with the bosses.
"Where are you goin' to run her?" asked one of the men of Mr. Latimer.
"We'll begin down near the river, and clear all of that land first; that will give us open space to pile our logs along the waterfront and at the same time pack the road down harder and harder every trip the teamsters make," said Mr. Latimer.
So, the heavy trucks were taken in upon the new road broken out between the dense pine trees and, after several miles on this road, a halt was called. A small clearing had been made by cutting down all of the timber. Here the skidder would find space in which to swing her great arms and lift the immense trunks from their resting place over to the low sledge waiting to receive them.
It took all of that day and the greater part of the next to fit the machine up for work. The horses of the party were cared for by the men but extra bunks there were none, for visitors were not expected, so the men had to sleep upon the floors of the offices and school-room. Being city men, it was rather interesting to sleep upon a heap of fresh hemlock boughs and wash in a shed where a long row of basins and towels were provided for the men. But the few days braced them up wonderfully, and they always delighted in telling of the camp where the cook prepared fine meals, and the system and orderliness of the timber men were so good that ladies and children mingled with them as freely as if they were the sons of clergymen. As timber men had the reputation of being everything coarse and evil, this story gave an entirely new view of them.
As soon as the parts were together, the experts tried the machine. She soon had steam up in her boilers and, at the signal, one of the men threw out her tackle and a huge pine trunk was lifted as lightly as a feather and carried over and laid parallel with the roadside.
The men stood about in a circle admiring the wonderful machine that seemed almost human in its methods of work; the long arms that reached out in the direction of the fallen tree, the fingers that opened to grip the trunk, the graceful swing of the arm as it carried the log exactly where it was wanted and then opened its hand again to give up the grasp the fingers had on their burden.
"If you had your sledge here by the roadside we could load up a pile in no time and the men could cart them to the river," said one of the experts to Mr. Latimer.
"I figured on that and told several teamsters with sleds to come with us," replied Mr. Latimer.
"She makes the work jump along all right!" ventured the foreman, greatly pleased with the headway he could make.
The machinists remained all that day to watch the men work with "Jumpin' Jane" as she had been called, and, the following morning, left the camp to return to the city.
The work of cutting, loading and hauling logs went forward with tremendous speed after Jumpin' Jane arrived.
After a week's work the logs began to bank up along the river's edge, while the clearing about the Jumpin' Jane grew into a wide area.
The ladies and children at camp heard stories every night of the experiences of the day and felt sorry that they could not witness some of the adventures. Finally, Mrs. Latimer spoke:
"If it is a fine day tomorrow, why can't we come down to the cutting and see Jumpin' Jane work? We want to see everything worth while."
The next day was cold and clear and the children were bundled up well, while the ladies muffled themselves to the ears. Mike was included in the party, and, as usual, had charge of Babs.
The men knew there was to be an observation party, so had work planned that would show off the spectacular part of lumber cutting.
"Ho, there, Jim, can we come up on Jumpin' Jane and help you?" called Don, when he saw his old friend fingering the valves and levers of the engine.
"Pretty soon, mebbe. It's all up to your ma," said Jim.
"Not now, Don; wait until we see how it works," replied Mrs. Starr, catching hold of Don's hand to keep him beside her.
Meantime, the timber men had been running a huge saw through a giant pine tree until the foreman shouted "All Back!"
Instantly, everyone ran to safety, except the man who fastened the "clutch" of the Jumpin' Jane into the trunk of the tree. Then he too ran back to join his associates.
The foreman gave the signal, Jumpin' Jane gave a little wrench, and lo! the king of the forest started to lower his head. With a crash and a dragging off of all the branches impeding its descent, the pine measured its enormous length along the cleared ground. No sooner was it down than a dozen men jumped over and lopped off boughs until it looked like a telegraph pole. Another signal was given to Jim, and he pushed a lever that governed the huge steel arm of the machine. This arm swung over toward the pine and whirled out a cable with the hooks wide open ready to clasp about the tree. A man stood by and as soon as the hooks descended he guided them about the trunk and locked them. A signal, and Jim pushed upon another lever that brought the steel arm back to first position, dangling the immense pine over the flat sledge as if it were a tooth-pick. A man was waiting to use his cant-hook to steady the log at one end while the cable deposited its freight lengthwise on the floor of the sledge. Before the steel arm of Jumpin' Jane could be signalled for another trip, another huge tree had been sawed through and awaited its downfall.
Don and Dot were so excited over Jumpin' Jane that they could not keep their eyes from her. After constant coaxing, they succeeded in gaining unwilling permission to climb up to the engineer's caboose and watch Jim work.
Jim managed to show them the different levers and valves during the intervals between loading and lifting. The twins were completely fascinated by the machine and asked many pertinent questions that Jim delighted in answering. If Jim had known the twins better, or had spent the summer with them on the ranch in Texas, he would not have explained so minutely how the engine worked. But he thought they craved knowledge, and he told them all he could.
