The Douglas independent. [volume] (Roseburg, Or.) 187?-1885, 1883-12-08

This camp stood on the bank of the
brook, little below the dam, and was
built of fir logs. with 70 of split shin
giles. it was fonr rteen or fifteen feet
square, land had suficed to lodge ten men
two winters before. Since tnen it had
been deserted.
There was no doubt that this was Ad-
ger camp; for remember the three big
pines which stood on the bank, mp fifteen
| or twenty feet above the camp. The rea-
son the lumbermen had not them was
because of the great tsscalds" on the
trunks, caused by forest fires years be-
fore. Either of the three trees was from
four to five feet in diameter; and they
we're of great height. Besides these
trees, there stood with them the great
bare stub, forty or fifty feet tall, OF an
other large pine.
Inside, the old shanty looked dark and
cheerless; and it had an nnsavory odor.
1t did not have windows; a strong cleated
door, on wooden hinges, shut closely
enough to keep out the storm.
! A rusty stove stood in one corner. with
still rustier funnel running up through
the low roof. There was a greasy table.
made of rough boards; and along the
back side extended bunk of old vel.
lowed fir boughs, on which the men had
| slept.
But any sort of shelter looked inviting
to US that night, with the storm increas.
ing and the wind rising. We entered,
and then began searching to see what
the former occupants had left behind
them in the way of supplies" eatable
or otherwise.
There were mum Der of old axes; and
in salt box there was nearly entire
quarter-gross of matches. In another
salt box there was a little salt and in an
quarts of ''yelIow.eyed" beans. That
was all; no -four, no pork.
Well, then, we'll have boiled beans
and salt!p' Al exclaimed.
Ben split up three old benches, got
some branches outside, and built a fire;
and Al ran out to the brook and dipped
up water in the stove kettle. We soon
had beans cooking. but it took nearly
| two hours to boil them soft.
It was plain supper. beans and salt;
| yet have eaten far less savory dishes.
By eight clock in the evening our appe-
tites had grown sharp enough not to be
squeamish.
1t was rather cosy, too, round our hot
| stove. We were a little anxious because
our folks at ome would be alarmed at
our not coming back: otherwise, we
should have felt rather jolly; for in the
morning we had only to follow the brook
| down to Durham s clearing and could be
at home by noon. We little knew of the
peril we were in.
AS there were no coverlets or blankets
in the bunk, we decided that it would be
more comfortable to keep fire. So we
gathered branches outside. AL agreed
to keep awake and tend the fire for three
hours, as nearly as he could guess, then
he was to call me. After taking my turn,
was to call Ben.
1t was growing cold fast, and the snow
beat into the camp, under the door, and
through chinks betwixt the logs where
the moss "stufing" had fallen out.
When Al walked me to take my turn at
tending the stove, was shivering in
spite Of the fire, and the first thing I no.
ticed, on waking. was the fearful rate at
which the wind was blowing. The woods
| roared, and now and then came a gust
which made even that little low camp
shake and crack, and which sent the fine
snow sitting in all over us.
''It's an awful night" said AL. GIVE
heard ever so many trees fall, off in 1he
woods"
Suddenly, in the midst of tremen-
.dous gust, there came with great dis
tinctness loud, startling crack. IT was
followed by a creaking, rushing sound.
Involuntarily I jumped to my feet, and
Ben and Al both sprang up. whats
that2" they cried out together.
1t had flashed to my mind in an in
slant that it was one of thos3 great pines;
and though the tree could have been but
a second or two falling, had yet had
time to realize and feel that it was com
ing down on US.
The next moment it struck-seemingly
on both sides of us-with a tremendous
crash and q shock, which made the
ground jar beneath us.
The stove-funnel came rattling down
and the fire and smoke gushing out into
the camp. We had lively work for the
next ten minutes in putting it back into
its place. It was not until daybreak that
we saw and realized how near we had
come to death.
One of these great pines had broken
off at 'scald," close down to the
ground, and had fallen. In falling it
had swept down with it the great dry
stub.
Both bad fallen on the camp from the
high bank above. The huge pine trunk
with its great branches had broken off
and driven deep down into the frozen
earth, and lay within foot OF that side
of the shanty in which the door was;
wLile on the other side, lay the great, dry
stub, ,splintered and split by its fall.
There was just the width of the little
camp between them! If either had fallen
on it, the camp would have been crushed
like an egg-shell It was an escape the
very sight Of which made our hearts
JUMP.
1t blew furiously all the rest of the
night, or rather morning, but slackened
somewhat as the forenoon advanced. By
ten o'clock we climbed out of our camp
and set off down the brook. But it was
slow walking. Fully two feet of snow
had fallen since five o'clock the previous
afternoon.
We were fully two hours getting down
to Dunham's open. There we found the
flock of eighty odd sheep in the shelter
of a fir add henlock thicket, on the east
side of the clearing, and with the sheep
were two deer-a doe and q half-grown
fawn. They were not caribou, but COM
mon red deer, which had joined the
sheep either during the storm or previ
ously.
We attempted to start the sheep home
ward; but the snow was so deep that We
were obliged to leave them there for that
day.