The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1904-07-14

firmly that he felt no strength and
hardly the desire to break from the
dream that lulled him. Then he was
conscious of the physical warmth of
the sun, the faint sweet wood smells,
the soothing cares of the breeze, the
sleepy cicada-like note of the pine
creeper. He wanted nothing so much
as to sit on the pine needles there in
the golden flood Of radiance and dream
dream on vaguely, comfortably,
sweetly.
Lord, Lordr' he cried impatiently.
'Whats coming to me? 1 must be lit
tie off my feed!'
And he hurried rapidly to his duties.
After an hour Of the hardest concentra-
ton he had ever been required to be-
stow on a trivial subject he again IN
consciously sank by degrees into the
old apathy.
"Glad it isn't the busy season. he
commented to himself Here, I must
quit this! Guess it's the warm weather.
I'll get down to the mill for day or
two"
There he found himself incapable of
even the most petty routine work. He
sat at his desk at o'clock and began
the perusal Of sheaf Of letters. The
first three he read carefully, the follow
ing two rather hurriedly, of the next
one he seized only the salient and es-
sential points, the seventh and eighth
he skinned, the remainder of the bun
die he thrust aside in uncomfortable
impatience. Next day he returned to
the woods.
The incident of the letters had
aroused to the full his old fighting spir-
1t, before which no mere instincts
could stand.
Once more his mental process became
clear and incisive, his commands direct
and to the point. To all outward ap-
pearance Thorpe was as before.
He opened Camp One, and the Fight
ing Forty came back from distant
drinking joints. This was in early Sep
TENDER. That ablebodied and devoted
band of men was on hand when need
ed. Shearer in some subtle manner Of
his own had let them feel that this year
meant 100000 or 'bust" They
frightened their leather belts and stood
ready for command. After much dis
cussion with Shearer the young man
decided to take out the logs from
"eleven" by driving them down French
creek.
TO this end a gang was put to clear
ing the creek bed. It was a tremen-
dous job. Centuries of forest life had
choked the little stream nearly to the
level of it's 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
tropical jungle than Of a 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, it 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 were singing in a mighty
chorus, swaying their heads in unison
and bringing out with a 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 Muskeson where tho
rapid waters flow,
On, Wen range the wild woods DER while
Numbering we co.
Here was the bold unabashed front
OF the pioneer, here was absolute GER
talnty 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
1.-THE music of our FURNISHED ak shall
make the woods resound
ana many lofty ancient pine will tum-
BILE to the ground
At night around our shanty fire we'll sing
while rude winds blow.
On, we'll range the wild woods Ger while
a-lunberin we go!"
That was what he was here for.
Things were going right 1t would be
pitiful to fail merely on account of this
ldiotic lassitude, this unmanly weak
ness. this boyish Impotence and desire
for play. He woodsman! He a fellow
with these big strong men!
A single voice, clear and high, struck
into quick measure: