Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1904-06-23
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meant 3o.0OO.OOO or bust" They
tightened their leather belts and stool
ready for command. After much dis
cussion with Shearcr the young man
decided to take out the logs from
"eleven" by driving them down French
creek
To this end Il gang was put to clear
ing the creek bed. 1t was Il tremen-
dous job Centuries of forest life had
choked the little stream nearly to tile
level of its banks. Old snags and
stumps lay imbedded in the ooze: de-
cayed trunks, moss grown. blocked the
current; leaning tamaracks, fallen tim
Der, tangled vines, dense thickets, gave
to its course more the appearance of a
tropical jungle than of north country
brook bed. All these things had to be
removed one by one and either piled to
one side or burned. In the end. how
ever, 1t would pay. French creek was
not large stream, but it could be
driven during the time of the spring
freshets.
Each night the men returned in the
beautiful dreamlike twilight to the
camp. There they sat after eating.
smoking their pipes in the open air.
Much of the time they sang. while Phil
crouching wolf-like over his violin.
rasped out an accompaniment of disso-
nances The mems voices lent them
selves we'll to the weird minor strains
Of the chanteys. These times. when the
men sang and the night wind rose and
died in the hemlock tops, were Thorpe's
worst moments. His soul, tired with
the days iron struggle. fell to brooding
He wanted something, he knew not
what
The men We're singing in mighty
chorus, swaying their heads in unison
and bringing out with roar the en-
phatic words of the crude ditties writ
ten by some genius from their own
ranks.
''Come all We sons of freedom throughout
old Michigan.
Come all We gallant lumbermen list to a
shanty man.
On the banks Of the Muskegon, where the
rapid waters flow,
Oh We'll range the wild woods 'er while
LAUNDERING we co.
Here was the bold unabashed front
Of the pioneer. here was absolute GER
tainty in the superiority of his calling.
absolute scorn of all others. Thorpe
passed his hand across his brow. The
same spirit was once fully and freely
his.
''The music of our FURNISHED az shall
make the woods resound
And many lofty ancient pine will tur-
bic to the ground.
At night around our shanty fire we'll sing
while rude winds blow.
Oh We'll range the wild woods DER while
a-lumberin' we go!"
That was what he was here for.
Things We're going right It would be
pitiful to fail merely ON account of this
1diotic lassitude. this unmanly weak.
ness, this boyish Impotence and desire
for play. He a woodsman! He fellow
with these big strong men.
A single voice, clear and high. struck
into a quick measure:
II am a jolly shanty boy,
AS you will soon discover;
To all the lodges l am fly,
A hustling pine wood rover
A peavey hook it is my pride;
An AK we'll can handle;
To fell tree or punch a bull
Get rafting Danny Randall
And then. with a rattle and crash, the
whole Fighting Forty shrieked out the
chorus:
"Bung yer eye! Bung yer eyer
Active, alert prepared for any emer-
gency that might arise; hearty, ready
for everything, from punching bulls to
telling trees-that was something like.
Thorpe despised himself. The song
went on:
II love girl in Saginaw;
She lives with her mother.
defy all Michigan
TO find such another.
she's tall and slim; her hair is red;
Her face is plump and pretty.
She's my daisy Sunday best-day girl,
And her front name stands for Kitty"
And again, as before, the Fighting
Forty howled truculently:
"Bung yer eye! Bung yer eyer
The words were vulgar. the air a
mere minor chant. Yet Thorpe's mind
vas stiHed. His aroused subconscious-
ness had been engaged in reconstruct
Ing these men entire as their songs
voiced rudely the inner characteristics
II their beings. Now his spirit halted.
Their bravery, pride of caste, resource,
bravado, boastfulness-all these he had
checked of approvingly. Here now
was the idea of the mate. Somewhere
tor each of them was a Kitty" a
daisy Sunday best-day girl" At the
present OF in the past these woods
foisterers, this Fighting Forty, had
Known love. Thorpe rose abruptly and
turned at random into the forest. The
pong pursued him as he went.
II took her to dance one night,
A mosgback gave the bidding:
0alver Jack bossed the shebang.
And Big Dan played the fiddle.
We danced and drank the ltvelong night.
With fights between the dancing.
I'M Silver Jack cleaned out the ranch
And ssnt the mossbacks prancing."
And with the increasing war and
turmoil Of the quick water the last