The Redwood gazette., 1904-12-28

proved himself; he remained in it only
as long as his efficiency deserved the
honor It's members were invariably
recruited from one of the other four
camps, never from applicants who had
not been in Thorpe's employ.
So Shearer was foreman of picked
crew. Probably no finer body of men
was ever gathered at one camp. Some
of them had the reputation of being
the hardest citizens in three states;
others were mild as turtledoves. They
were all pioneers. They had the inde-
pendence, the unabashed eye, the in
subordination even, of the man who
has drawn his intellectual and moral
nourishment at the breast of a wild
nature. They were afraid of nothing
alive From no one, were he chore boy
or president, would they take single
word, with the exception always of
Tim Shearer and Thorpe.
| And they were loyal. 1t was a point
of honor with them to stay until the
last dog was hung" He who deserted
in the hour of need was not only a rem
egade, but fool, for he thus earned a
magnificent licking if ever he ran up
against a member of the Fighting
Forty" A band of soldiers were they,
ready to attempt anything their COM
mander ordered, and, it must be con-
fessed, they were also somewhat on
| the order of a band of pirates. Mar
quette thought SO each spring after the
drive, when, hat tilted, they surged,
swearing and shouting, down to Den
ny Hogan's saloon. Denny had to buy
new fixtures when they went away,
but it was worth it,
Proud! 1t was no name for it. Boast!
The fame of Camp One spread abroad
over the land. Some people thought
| Camp One must be sort of hellhole
of roaring fighting devils. Others
sighed and made rapid calculations of
the number of logs they could put in
If only they could get hold Of help like
] that
Thorpe himself, of course, made his
headquarters at Camp One. During
: the FIVE years he had never crossed the
= III 4AC AupluAO WIS
his sister had made repugnant to him
all the southern country. All winter
long he was more than busy at his log
ging. Summers he spent at the mill.
Occasionally he visited Marquette, but
always on business.
/ He was happy because he was too
busy to be anything else. The insist
;oI, ho ha6
ated for himself absorbed all other SEN
timents. He demanded it of others
vigorously. He could do no less than
demand it of himself. The chief end
of any man, as he saw it, was to do
well and successfully what his life
found ready.
Success, success, success. Nothing
could be of more Importance. Its at
tainment argued a mans efficiency in
the scheme of things. Anything that
interfered with it-personal comfort,
inclination, affection, desire, love OF
ease, individual liking-was bad.
Thorpe cared for just three people
and none of them happened to clash
with his machine They were Wallace
Carpenter, little Phil and Injun Char
ley
Wallace was always personally agree
able to Thorpe Latterly, since the cree
ton of the mill, he had developed unex
pected acumen in the disposal of the
seasons cut to wholesale dealers in
Chicago. Thereafter he was often in
the woods both for pleasure and to get
his partners ideas on what the firm
would have to offer. The entire respon
sibility of the city end of the business
was in his hands.
Injun Charley continued to hunt ant
trap in the country round about. Once
or twice a month the lumberman would
snowshoe down to the little cabin a
the forks. Entering, he would nod brief
ly and seat himself on cracker box.
"How do, Charley?" said he.
"How do?" replied Charley.
They filled pipes and smoked. A
rare intervals one of them made re
mark tersely:
"Catch um beaver las week." re
marked Charley.
Good haul" commented Thorpe.
Or:
''I saw mink track by the big bowl
der" offered Thorpe.
"H'my' responded Charley in a Ions
drawn falsetto whine.
Yet somehow the men came to know
each other better and better. and eacl
felt that in an emergency he could de
pend on the other to the uttermost il
spite of the difference in race.
As for Philip, he was like SOM
strange, shy animal, retaining all it
wild instincts, but led by affection t
become domestic. He drew the water
cut the wood-none better In the even
ing he played atrociously his violin
none worse bending his great whit,
brow forward with the wolf glare II
his eyes. swaying his shoulders with
fierce delight in the subtle dissonance
| of the horrible times hQ nlavpd Anf