Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1881-06-04

huddled in bunch, and to the eye of the
inexperienced observer inextricably mixed !;
and let one step out of place, let an I'M
wieldy log roll out of line, and woe to the
puncher who screams out his anathemas
upon the ragged edge of the path. stood
yesterday at the foot of an incline or chute
and watched the work as it proceeded.
Two Cinnamon with pals of water slung
upon shoulder went up, making the way
slippery for the sliding logs, and presently
they came tearing down as If in mortal
fear, for once started they must run at full
speed down the steep way. A minute
more and the cautious heads of the leaders
peered over, the next oxen followed, then
another pair and another and another,
gently pulling and charity holding back,
then the sawn end of log looked over,
and then there rose wild beat Of heavy
feet, and heavy dust that obscured
all, but out of which came the
tumble and chatter of the oxen.
the yell of the puncher and the tagging
rush of the logs. 1t was all the experience
of a moment, and then the five great logs
rolled smoothly upon the creased skids be.
low, and as they disappeared round the
point the puncher, poised like butterfly
winging for flight, held his brad back from
his shoulder aud plunged it like a thrown
isvelin into the bleeding flank of the of
wheeler, and with this new impetus the
train disappeared ike flash. Picking up
my ferns and my skirts ran after, avoid
ing the tar-like grease on the skids, and
followed the logs on to the river, about a
mile down. Here the oxen were unhitched,
the chains unlocked, the dogs pried out
with crowbars, and then slowly over and
over the mighty logs were splashed into
the dam, the displaced water rising high
in anger, and returning fell in flashes, and
sparkles and spray, that shot dozen
minute rainbows into the sunlight.
NEXT IN ORDER
Is the man riding the logs about the dam.
all day long he is in and over the water
with spikes in his boot-heels and long
barbed pole in his hands. He springs from
one log to another, pushes, barbs, pulls,
urges and makes the monsters lie or float
just where he will. Down from the mill
runs platform on wheels, and lifting
log upon itself runs up to the mill. The
buzz saws spin and wnizz and cut the log
ds bhOuSu IL were WlIuOuC
pause or change in revolution, and the
smooth, red boards fall off in slices and are
carried away to be marked. A man with
one glance of his eye marks the measure
ment of each upon it, and rejects the i'm
perfect, while another kegs tally over his
shoulder. Then the lumber gets its first
start toward the lumber yards of the city
over couple of rollers, which send it into
the fumes. Mile after mile this fume
winds in and out among the hills toward
the port of Point Arena with such a force
of water in it that the lumber is carried
along toward that final shoot it takes down
by the barren rock stepping into the sec.
Following its course you will find men who
tramp upon its track to keep the boards
from blocking where the curves come, and
to make repairs. Such is "logging in the
redwoods as l have seen it, but very few
there are who follow the path l have
strayed upon. Yet it we'll may tempt one
who escapes from the city once in the year
to find the fresh, wild country as nature
has made it.
THE REDwooSs,
Like soldiers In rank, stand straight and
tall one behind the other far among them
as the eye can penetrate, and at their feet
clusters so thick an underbrush that the
wanderer cannot well beat way through