The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, 1886-08-03
A LOGGER'S LEE.
Perils and Privations Of the
Maine Lumbermen.
How Logs are Driven From the Distant
Wilds to the Lumber Mills.

"A DhhSoA \llC.J lCCCCl ~ CuC U
York World says: This city, once the
greatest lumber market of the world,
though doing q much smaller business
than in Penobscot's palmy days, is still
the home of expert loggers and drivers
and the headquarters for the most APP
proved kinds of lumbcrmcn's nipple
ments. Such is the fame Of Bangor
cant-dogs and axes and batteaux that
operators in the comparatively new log
ging regions of the west md far-off Pa
citic slope send here for them. 45ut it is
the men of the Pcnobscot who arc prin-
cipally sought, not for cutting the logs,
for almost anybody can swing an axe,
but for the pcrilous work of driving the
logs through rapid waters and over roar
ing falls and swift rapids. Every spring,
when the trees lave been fcllcd and
When the warm sun has transformed
frozen streams into rushing torrents, men
from the Kcnncbec and Connecticut
come to Bangor to hire crews who are
clever with the axe and cant-dog, and
who are not afraid to break a jam or
sleep on the bare ground in a single
blanket. They are especially anxious to
get Bangor boys when they have a hard
drive in prospect, Cor they know that the
Penobscot r~ed-shirtcrs will pull them
through if it is a possible thing.
Not many people understand how logs
are driven from the wilds where they are
cut so many miles to the great booms
near the mills where they are sawn into
lumber. It is a peculiar and a hazard
ous work, and when a lot of drivers start
away for the headwater with their pick
poles, cant-dogs and axes it is just as
natural to expect some Of them v
will come back alive as it would be in
case of q company of soldiers starting for
a battlefield. After the loggers get
through dumping the logs over into the
frozen streams but a brief period ensucs
before the o and ice melt and carry
the big spruce sticks in great masses
down stream and create big jams, back
ing the water up so that many of the
logs are foated over submerged flats, to
be left high and dry when the first de-
tachment of drivers break the jams and
let the water loose. Then the drivers
work begins. The grounded logs, in the
upper country where horses cannot be
used, must be carried to the streams by
the men, and often it requires twenty
strong drivers, wading knee deep in
mud, to carry a single stick to the water.
The farmers whose meadows are thus
strewn with logs often claim the timber
as a recompense for the obstruction 1t
causes to their operations, and at times
they appear with shotguns to prevent the
drivers from carrying off the logs. But
the boss driver orders his men to s'bring
that stuff down." and the "stuf'' gcner-
all comes.
Several crews are employed on a drive
of any considerable size, one at the head,
or lower end, others along the line and
one at the rear. There are many rocks,
rapids and falls where the moving mass
is likely to jam, and these places must be
carefully watched to prevent a general
changing up" of the logs. Sometimes
one big stick, caught on a rock, will
hold back hundreds of thousands of feet
and then some daring fellow is ordered
out with an ak to chop away the obstruc-
ton. It is at the risk of his life. He
must be quick, for at the last stroke of
his ak the big log snaps assunder with a
boom like that of a cannon and then there
is a tremendous stampede of all the logs
behind it. If the driver is lucky and
agile he gets ashore all right, leaping
from log to log, but n misstep or a
little slowness is likely to p%ercipitate
him into the seething mass, and if it is
ever found below, his body is mangled
almost beyond recognition. Genera ly
it is never found. As the drive pro-
crosses the men follow through the
woods or along the rocky, uneven shores
after it, the s'wangangs," or commissary
| departments of the different gangs,
going on before. The driver works
as long as it is light enough
to see a log, and when the moon is bright
| they often go to work at 8 o'clock in the
morning and continue until the last glim-
mer of twilight. Then they eat their
| plentiful but coarse evening meal and,
wrapped in their blankets, lie down to
sleep. While they sleep, which seems to
them but an hour, the "wangan" moves