The Manning times. [volume] (Manning, Clarendon County, S.C.) 1884-current, 1902-10-08
CHAPTER /.
CHRISTMAS EVE IN \ LUMBER CAMP.

|
E8s pensation Of Providence and
5 a good deal to Leslie Graeme
esss that l found myself in the
heart Of the Selkirks for my Christmas
eve as the year 1882 was dying. 1t had
been my plan to spend my Christmas
far away in Toronto with such bo-
henian and boon companions as could
be found in that cosmopolitan and
kindly city. But Leslie Graeme chang
ed all that, for, discovering me in the
village Of Black Rock, with my traps
all packed, waiting for the stage to
start for the Landing, thirty miles
away, be bore down upon me with re-
sistless force, and I found myself re.
covering from my surprise only after
we had gone in his lumber sleigh some
six miles On our way to his camp up IN
the mountains. I was surprised and
much delighted, though would not
allow him to think so, to find that his
old time power over me was still there.
He could always in the old varsity
days-dear, wild days-make me do
what be liked. he was so handsome
and so reckless, brilliant in his class
work and the prince Of halfbacks on
the Rugby field and with such power
Of fascination as would "extract the
heart out Of q wheelbarrow," as Barney
Lundy used to say. And thus it was that
found myself just three weeks later
I was to have spent two or three days
on the afternoon of the oath Of Decem-
Der, standing in Graeme's Lumber
Camp No. 9, wondering at myself. But
I did not regret my changed plans, for
in those three weeks had raided a
cinnamon bears den and had wakened
up grizzly. But shall let the grizzly
finish the tale. BE probably sees more
humor in it than /.
The camp stood in a little clearing
and consisted Of o group Of three long,
| low shanties, with smaller ShackS near
them, all built Of heavy, unheWn logs,
with door and window in each. The
grub camp, with cook shed attached,
stood in the middle Of the clearing; at
little distance was the sleeping camp
with the Office built against it, and
about a hundred yards away on the
other side of the clearing stood the
stables and near them the smiddy. The
mountains rose grandly On every side,
throwing up their great peaks into
the sky. The clearing in which the
camp stood was hewn out Of dense
pine forest that filed the valley and
climbed half way up the mountain
sides and then frayed out in scattered
and stunted trees.
It was one Of those wonderful Cana
dian winter days, bright and with a
touch Of sharpness in the air that did
not chill, but warmed the blood like
drafts Of wine. The men were up in
the woods, and the shrill scream Of the
bluejay flashing across the open, the
impudent chatter Of the red squirrel
from the top of the grub camp and the
pert chirp of the whisky jack hopping
about on the rubbish heap, with the
long, lone cry Of the wolf far down the
valley, only made the silence felt the
more.
AS l stood drinking in with all my
soul the glorious beauty and silence Of
mountain and forest, with the Christ
mas feeling stealing into me, Graeme
came out from his Office and, catching
sight Of me, called out "Glorious
Christmas weather, old chap" and
then, coming nearer. "Must you go to-
morrow
81 fear so," I replied, knowing well
that the Christmas feeling was on him
too
81 wish l were going with you," he
said quietly.
turned eagerly to persuade him, but
at the look Of suffering in his face the
words died on my lips, for we both
were thinking Of the awful night Of
horror when all his bright brilliant
life crashed down about him in black
ruin and shame. could Only throw my
arm over his shoulder and stand silent
beside him. A sudden jingle Of bells
reused him and, giving himself little
shake, he exclaimed:
There are the boys coming home"
Soon the camp was filed with men
talking, laughing, chatting. like light
hearted boys.
They are little wild tonight" said
Graeme, "and tomorrow they'll paint
Black Rock red"
Before many minutes had gone the
last teamster was washed up" and all
were standing about waiting impa-
tiently for the cocks signal-the sup
per tonight was to be something Of a
| feeG'-when the sound Of bells drew
their attention to a light sleigh drawn
by q buckskin broncho coming down
the hillside at q great pace.
"The preacher, III bet, by his dri7-
ing" said one Of the men.
"Bedad, and it's him has the foine
nose for turkey" said Blaney, a good
natured, jovial Irishman.
Eyes, or for pay day, more like"
said Keefe, a black browed, Villainous
fellow countryman Of Blaney's and,
strange to say, his great friend.
Big Sandy McNaughton, Canadian
highlander from Glengarry, rose up in
wrath. "Bill Keefe," said he, with de-
Hberate emphasis, you'll Just keep
your dirty tongue off the minister, and,
as for your pay, it's little he sees Of
it or any one else, except Mike Sla7in,
when you're too dry to wait for some
one to treat you, or perhaps Father
Ryan, when the fear Of hell fire is on
to you"
The men stood amazed at Sandy's
sudden anger and length Of speech.
Bon! OATS good for you, my bully
boy" said Baptiste, wiry little French
Canadian, Sandy's sworn ally and de-
voted admirer ever since the day when
the big Scotsman, under great provo
cation, had knocked him clean off the
dump into the river and then jumped
in for him.