"Friends whom he had known in the city who are ready to welcome him." (Page180.)
The following summer, on one of my trips to this then picturesque country in northeastern Minnesota, I tried the experiment of taking my wife, who had long been an invalid, and my son, Frank Merton, then a boy in his early teens, with me, in the hope that the trip would prove beneficial to the wife and mother. The experiment was in no way disappointing, although on one occasion when the rain had poured incessantly, leaving the woods drenched, in crossing a rather blind and unavoidable portage, Mrs. Warren's clothing became thoroughly wet. In the absence of a wardrobe from which to choose a change of garments, the expedient was resorted to of requesting her to remove one garment at a time, which Vincent De Foe, a half-breed, and James O'Neill, an old and trusty friend, held to the open fire, until it was dry. This she replaced, when another wet garment went through the same process, until all had been dried. No ill effects followed; on the contrary, Mrs. Warren's health continued to improve.
At the end of the trip I was so happy over the results that I sent the following account of some of its incidents to Dr. Albert Shaw, then of the Minneapolis Tribune, and at present, editor of the Review of Reviews. Thislittle account appeared in the Tribune of Saturday, September 6, 1890:
"IN THE WILDS OF MINNESOTA.Mrs. G. H. Warren's Travels in the Northeastern Part of the State.Mrs. G. H. Warren and her son Frank returned to the city Monday from a two weeks' tour of the Vermilion Iron Range, north of Lake Superior. Their trip was both interesting and novel. From Ely, the eastern terminus of the Duluth & Iron Range Railroad, they embarked in birch canoes, traversing ten lakes, thirteen portages and three small rivers as far as they were navigable for birch canoes. The whole distance thus traveled included over one hundred miles. Pike, pickerel, bass, white fish, or landlocked salmon abound in all these lakes of rugged shores. Master Frank reports the capture of a twenty-seven inch pike and a thirty-seven inch pickerel. In one of the bays of Basswood Lake—a beautiful body of clear water thirty miles in length and extending several miles into Canada—the Indians were seen gathering wild rice. This is accomplished by the male Indian standing upright in the bowof his canoe, and paddling it forward through the field of rice, the stalks of which grow from three to four feet above the water; while his squaw sits in the stern of the canoe, and with two round sticks about the size, and half the length of a broom handle, dexterously bends the long heads of the rice over the gunwale of the canoe with one stick, while at the same instant, she strikes the well filled heads a sharp, quick blow with the other, threshing out the kernels of rice, which fall into the middle portion of the canoe. This middle portion is provided, for the occasion, with a cloth apron, into which the rice kernels fall. The apron will hold about two bushels, and is filled in the manner above described in less than three hours' time. The rice is next picked over to free it from chaff and straw, after which it is placed in brass kettles and parched over a slow fire; then it is winnowed, and is ready for future use.Mrs. Warren is the first white woman to penetrate so far on the frontier of wild Northeastern Minnesota, and though never before subjected to uncivilized life, or the primitive mode of travel, she endured the walks over the portages, slept soundly on beds of balsam fir boughs, ate with a relish the excellent fish andwild game cooked at the camp fire, and returns to her home in the city with health much improved, and enthusiastic over the many beauties of nature in this yet wild, but attractive portion of Minnesota."
"IN THE WILDS OF MINNESOTA.Mrs. G. H. Warren's Travels in the Northeastern Part of the State.
Mrs. G. H. Warren and her son Frank returned to the city Monday from a two weeks' tour of the Vermilion Iron Range, north of Lake Superior. Their trip was both interesting and novel. From Ely, the eastern terminus of the Duluth & Iron Range Railroad, they embarked in birch canoes, traversing ten lakes, thirteen portages and three small rivers as far as they were navigable for birch canoes. The whole distance thus traveled included over one hundred miles. Pike, pickerel, bass, white fish, or landlocked salmon abound in all these lakes of rugged shores. Master Frank reports the capture of a twenty-seven inch pike and a thirty-seven inch pickerel. In one of the bays of Basswood Lake—a beautiful body of clear water thirty miles in length and extending several miles into Canada—the Indians were seen gathering wild rice. This is accomplished by the male Indian standing upright in the bowof his canoe, and paddling it forward through the field of rice, the stalks of which grow from three to four feet above the water; while his squaw sits in the stern of the canoe, and with two round sticks about the size, and half the length of a broom handle, dexterously bends the long heads of the rice over the gunwale of the canoe with one stick, while at the same instant, she strikes the well filled heads a sharp, quick blow with the other, threshing out the kernels of rice, which fall into the middle portion of the canoe. This middle portion is provided, for the occasion, with a cloth apron, into which the rice kernels fall. The apron will hold about two bushels, and is filled in the manner above described in less than three hours' time. The rice is next picked over to free it from chaff and straw, after which it is placed in brass kettles and parched over a slow fire; then it is winnowed, and is ready for future use.
Mrs. Warren is the first white woman to penetrate so far on the frontier of wild Northeastern Minnesota, and though never before subjected to uncivilized life, or the primitive mode of travel, she endured the walks over the portages, slept soundly on beds of balsam fir boughs, ate with a relish the excellent fish andwild game cooked at the camp fire, and returns to her home in the city with health much improved, and enthusiastic over the many beauties of nature in this yet wild, but attractive portion of Minnesota."
Forest Fires.
The terrible forest fires that swept over much of Wisconsin and Minnesota during the summer of 1894, resulting in such an appalling loss of life at Hinckley and vicinity, will always be remembered by the people living in the northern half of Minnesota.
One who has never been in the forest at a time when the fires within it extended over many miles of area, cannot appreciate the danger and the anxiety of those who are thus placed. I vividly recall two days during the summer of the Peshtigo fire, when I was in the burning woods of Wisconsin. The sun was either entirely obscured, or it hung like a red ball above the earth, now penetrating the clouds of smoke, now again being hidden by them. The smoke came at times in great rolls at the surface of the earth, then was caught up by the breeze and lifted to higher altitudes, and at all times was bewildering to those whom it surrounded.
No one could tell from what point of the compass the distant fire was most dangerous,nor in what direction it was making most rapid progress toward the point where he was located. At times one became choked by the thick smoke. For many hours, during one of these days, I moved with my face close to the ground, that I might get air sufficient to breathe. When finally I came to an open country where the currents of wind could lift the smoke, I experienced a feeling of the greatest thankfulness that I was delivered from the condition of the two last days, surrounded with so much uncertainty as to my safety.
The memorable fire of September 1st, 1894, which swept Hinckley and all its surrounding country, resulted in the death of four hundred and seventeen human beings, left destitute two thousand two hundred, and extended over an area of four hundred square miles. The financial loss was upwards of one million dollars.
That loss does not include the great losses of timber situated in the northeastern part of Minnesota, extending all along its boundary and reaching into Canada. The fire in northeastern Minnesota destroyed millions of dollars worth of standing pine timber, much of which was entirely consumed, while portions of it were killed at the root. Such timber as was thus killed, but not destroyed, had most of its value yet remaining, provided that itwere cut and put in the water, during the first one or two seasons following. Later than that, most of its value would have been destroyed by worms boring into the dead timber. On account of these fires, it was necessary for all timber owners to make a careful examination of all timber lands within the burnt district. For this purpose, accompanied by S. D. Patrick, and E. A. White, timber examiners to assist in the work, and my son, Frank Merton, then a senior in the University of Minnesota, besides packers, I went, in 1897, into the burnt districts in northeastern Minnesota.
"He camps by the roadside on the shore of a lake." (Page180.)
As a result of these forest fires, one of the worst pests that the frontiersman meets is the black fly, which flourishes in a burnt country. This little insect is apparently always hungry, is never tired, and wages a relentless fight upon every inch of the white man's epidermis that is exposed to its reach, even penetrating the hair and beard of a man, and leaving the effects of its poisonous bite. So terrible were these little pests, and so numerous were they on two days of the excursion, that one eye of each of three of the white men in the party was so badly swollen by the bites of the insects, that it was closed. No remedy has ever been offered that effectually protects the woodsman frominjuries inflicted by this insect.
While our party was on that expedition that summer, reestimating the timber in the burnt district, Mr. Patrick came close to a large bull moose standing in some thick woods. The animal had not yet discovered Mr. Patrick's presence, consequently he was able to carefully examine and study this great beast of our northern woods. Below the animal's hips, on either side, at a point where he could in no wise protect himself from the ravages of this insect pest, the poor beast's flesh was raw and was bleeding. The Indians claim that their dogs frequently go mad and have to be killed as a result of the bites inflicted by these insects.
In proof of the wide range of their activities I will briefly relate one experience with them in Wisconsin. Joseph McEwen and I left Wausau one morning, riding out behind a livery team twenty miles to the Big Eau Plaine River, in search of desirable cranberry marsh lands. The country we traveled over was flat. Fires had recently killed the timber, and black flies formed one vast colony over this territory.
Our driver had trouble controlling the horses, so fierce was the attack of the black flies upon them. We arrived at the nearest point of ourwork that could be reached by team about ten o'clock in the forenoon, and dismissed our driver. We then proceeded on foot into this burnt, marshy country, attacked continuously by swarms of flies. They penetrated our ears, our noses, and our mouths if we opened them. They worked themselves into our hair, up our sleeves, under our collar bands, over the tops of our socks and down into them until they found the end of our drawers where, next, was our naked skin.
We camped at night in the marsh. The next morning the attack was renewed as vigorously as it had been waged on the previous day. At eleven o'clock we stopped for our dinner. McEwen wore a heavy beard all over his face; my face was bare. He looked at me as we were eating our dinner, then dryly remarked, "I don't know how I look, but you look like the devil; the black flies have bitten you everywhere; your face is a fright." We went out to the main road, and secured a conveyance by which we reached Wausau about five o'clock that afternoon.
I went immediately to my accustomed hotel, owned and managed by Charles Winkley. He had known me well for years, and I had left him less than forty-eight hours previous to myentering on that afternoon. Mr. Winkley was behind his desk. I greeted him and asked him how business was. He answered me quite independently that his house was full, and that he had not a vacant room. I then asked him if there was any mail for me, giving him my full name. He looked at me in astonishment, then exclaimed, "My God! What is the matter of you?" I said, "Black flies." Then he continued, "I mistook you for some man with the small-pox and was planning to notify the authorities and have you cared for. Go right to your room and stay there. Mrs. Winkley will care for you and have your meals brought to you. I will go to the postoffice every day for your mail." My face was one blotch of raw sores. My eyes were nearly closed because of the poison from the black flies.
The best remedy or preventive we have ever found against all insect pests of the northern woods, is smoked bacon rubbed onto the bare skin in generous quantities. Its presence is not essentially disagreeable. Objection to its use is prejudice, since it is no less pleasant than is the oil of cedar or pennyroyal which are often prescribed by druggists for the same purpose, and which are not half as continuous in their efficacy, because a little perspiration will neutralizeall of the good effects of the latter named remedies. Soap and water will remove the bacon grease when protection from flying insects is no longer desired.
There are other and more interesting living things in the northern woods than black flies, to which statement I am willing to testify. I had been running some lines one summer, for the purpose of locating a tote road to some camps where work was to be prosecuted the following fall. It was known among the homesteaders, as well as trappers, that a large bear lived in that vicinity. On one occasion he had been caught in a "dead-fall" that had been set for him, and he had gotten out of it, leaving only some tufts of his hair.
Alone, and while blazing a line for this proposed road, one sunny afternoon, I came onto a table-rock, in a little opening in the woods, where fifty feet in front of me lay a large pine tree that had blown down. As some small brush crackled under my feet, a bear, which I have ever since believed from descriptions that had previously been given me, was the much wanted great bear, stood up in front of me, close by the fallen tree. Presumably he had been awakened from an afternoon nap. The only weapon that I possessed was what isknown as a boy's ax, the size and kind usually carried by land examiners. I had not sought this new acquaintance, nor did I at that moment desire a closer one, but mentally decided, and that quickly, that the wrong thing to do would be to make any effort to get to a place of safety. I therefore decided to stand my ground and to put up the best fight possible with my small ax, in case the bear insisted on a closer acquaintance. Why I should have laughed on such an occasion as this, I never have known, but the perfect helplessness of my situation seemed so ridiculous, that I broke into a loud laugh. I have often wondered why that bear at that moment seemed to think that he had seen enough of the man whom he faced. Certain it was, that he turned on his hind legs, leaped over the log, and disappeared, leaving only the occasional sound of a twig breaking under his feet. So well pleased was I with the less distinct notes of the breaking twigs, that I waited and listened until I could no longer hear any of the welcome, receding music. The excitement having subsided, an inspection of the little ax revealed the fact that the head was nearly, but not quite off its handle. This incident has always been sufficient to convince me that I have no desire to approach nearer tothis animal of the northern woods.
The midday luncheon is welcomed by the automobile tourists. (Page180.)
In the summer of 1899, some special work was required north of Grand Rapids, Minnesota. Accompanied by my son, Frank Merton, and a cook named Fred Easthagen, I left Grand Rapids on a buckboard drawn by two horses and driven by Dan Gunn, the popular proprietor of the Pokegama Hotel. Our route was over a new road where stumps and pitch holes were plentiful. The team of horses was said to have been raised on the western plains, and objected strenuously to being driven over this stump road. One of the horses balked frequently, and, when not standing still, insisted on running. The passengers, except Easthagen, became tired of this uneven mode of travel, and preferred to walk, being able to cover the ground equally as fast as the team. Easthagen, however, sat tight through it all; he having come from the far West, refused to walk when there was a team to pull him.
Our camp was made in a fine grove of pig-iron Norway, near to which dwelt Mr. and Mrs. Sandy Owens, settlers upon government land. From this camp we were able to prosecute our work for a long period of time. The late summer and autumn were very dry. Both wolvesand deer abounded in this vicinity, and not far away ranged many moose. Large lumbering camps were about ten miles away. Oxen had been turned loose for the summer, to pasture in the woods and cut-over lands. Passing, one day, a root house built into the side of a hill, we pushed open the door, and in there found the remains of an ox. The animal had probably entered the root house to get away from the flies, and, the door having closed behind him, he had no means of escape, so that the poor beast had perished of hunger and thirst. The ground was dry, and all the brush, and twigs, and leaves lying thereon, had become brittle and crackled under the feet of every walking creature. This interfered much with the ability of the wolves to surprise the deer, rabbits, or other animals on which they are accustomed to feed, so that they were hungry. On this account they had become emboldened, so much so, that they would, at nightfall or toward evening, venture near enough to show themselves.
My son was coming in alone, from work one evening, when a pack of wolves followed him for some distance, occasionally snapping out their short yelp, and had he been less near the camp, he might have been in great danger.As it was, however, they kept back from him in the woods, but not so far as to prevent his hearing them.
An interesting article appeared in one of the numbers of "Country Life in America," on the subject of breeding skunks for profit. From their pelts is made and sold a fine quality of fur, known, to the purchaser, at least, as stone martin. The nearest approach to a natural farm of these animals that I have ever known was that existing at Sandy Owen's cabin, and immediately adjacent to it. These little animals were numerous in the Norway grove in which we were camped.
My son and I slept in a small "A" tent which at night was closed. On one occasion I was awakened by feeling something moving across my feet on the blankets, covering us. I spoke quietly to my son, requesting him to be careful not to move, for something was in the tent, and probably, that something was a skunk. With the gentlest of motions, I moved just sufficiently to let the animal know that I was aware of its presence in the tent. Immediately the animal retreated off of my legs, while we remained quiet for some time in the tent. Then a match was struck and with it a candle lighted, when a small hole was discovered at the footof the tent where evidently the animal had nosed its way in, and through which it had retreated. In the morning when my son and I arose, unmistakable evidence was discovered, near where our heads had lain, that his skunkship had visited us during the night.
Mr. and Mrs. Owens left their cabin to visit another settler, several miles distant, leaving the key with the cook, and telling him that he could use it if he had occasion to do so. Coming in one evening from a cruise, the cook went to the cabin to make and bake some bread in Mrs. Owen's stove. A small hole had been cut in the door, to admit the Owens' cat. On entering, Easthagen saw a skunk sitting in the middle of the floor. The animal retreated under the bed, while the cook kindled a fire in the stove and began mixing the dough for the bread. He baked the bread and cooked the evening meal for three persons, considerately tossing some bits of bread and meat near to where the skunk was concealed. Our party ate supper outside the door a short distance from the cabin. The animal remained in the cabin that night and until after breakfast, a portion of which latter the cook fed to it, when taking the broom, he, by easy and gentlestages, pushed the skunk toward the door, removing the animal without accident.
The state of Minnesota has some excellent laws to prevent the destruction of game animals by the pothunter. Notwithstanding this fact, a greater or less number of market hunters have been able to subsist by killing unlawful game and selling the meat to the lumber camps at about five cents per pound. Many men interested in the ownership of timber lands, have been aware of this fact and have been desirous of preventing the unlawful killing of moose and deer. Some lumbermen, also, have refused to buy the meat from these market hunters. It has not been safe, however, for such people to offer evidence against these hunters. There have been two principal reasons that have deterred them from so doing. One is, that the informant's personal safety would have become endangered, and the other reason is, that his timber would have been in danger of being set on fire. It rests, therefore, with the game wardens, to ferret out and prosecute to the best of their ability, all offenders against the game law.
In the latter part of the season of 1905, my son and I, accompanied by James O'Neill, a frontiersman and trusty employee, made acanoe trip from Winton down the chain of lakes on the boundary line between Minnesota and Canada, as far as Lake La Croix. We camped at night and traveled by day, being always in Minnesota. We saw racks in Minnesota made by the Indians, on which to smoke the meat of the moose they had killed. We counted twenty-one moose hides hung up to dry. The moose had doubtless been killed as they came to the lakes to get away from flies and mosquitoes. All these animals were unlawfully killed.
A more pleasant sight than the one just related was once accorded us while working in this same country. We were quietly pushing our canoes up a sluggish stream that had found its bed in a spruce swamp. There, in many places, pond lilies were growing, their wide leaves resting on the surface of the water. The roots of the lilies are much relished as a food by the moose. We have seen the moose standing out in the bays of the lakes, and in the almost currentless streams, where the water was up to the animal's flanks, or where its body was half immersed, and poking its head deep below the surface in search of the succulent roots of the lilies. On this day, a mother moose and her twin calves had come to this stream to feed. She was in the act ofreaching down under the water for a lily root, as we pushed our canoes quietly over the surface of the water into her very presence. The first to observe us was one of the young calves not more than two days old, that rose to its feet, close by on the shore. The mother looked toward her calf before she saw us; then, without undue haste, waded ashore. At this moment the second calf arose, shook itself, then, with the other twin, joined its mother. The three moved off into the spruce swamp as we sat quietly in our canoes, enjoying to the fullest this most unusual opportunity of the experienced woodsman, accustomed as he is to surprises. Our only regret on this occasion was, that we had no camera with us.
"Here he brings his family and friends to fish". (Page180.)
White Pine—What of Our Future Supply?
It is claimed that where Dartmouth College is, in the town of Hanover, New Hampshire, on the bank of the Connecticut River, there once stood a white pine tree two hundred and seventy feet in height. That is said to have been the tallest white pine of which there is a record.
Of the thirty-seven species of pine that grow in the United States, the white pine is the best. Nature was lavish in distributing this beautiful and useful tree on American soil, for it has been found growing in twenty-four states of the Union.
The following quotation is from Bulletin 99 of the Forest Service of the United States:
"White pine occurred originally in commercial quantities in Connecticut, Delaware, Georgia, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, Tennessee, Vermont, Virginia, West Virginia, and Wisconsin. Thecut has probably exceeded that of any other species. Several timber trees have a wider commercial range, and at the present time two yield more lumber yearly—Douglas fir and longleaf pine—but white pine was the leader in the market for two hundred and fifty years. Though to-day the original forests of this species are mere fragments of what they once were, the second growth in small regions is meeting heavy demand. In Massachusetts, for example, the cut in 1908 was two hundred and thirty-eight million feet, and practically all of it was second growth. It is not improbable that a similar cut can be made every year in the future from the natural growth of white pine in that state. It might be shown by a simple calculation that if one-tenth of the original white pine region were kept in well-protected second growth, like that in Massachusetts, it would yield annual crops, successfully for all time, as large as the white pine cut in the United States in 1908. To do this would require the growth of only twenty-five cubic feet of wood per acre each year, and good white pine growth will easily double that amount. The supply of white pine lumber need never fail in this country, provided a moderatearea is kept producing as a result of proper care.
"During the past thirty years the largest cut of white pine has come from the Lake States, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota."
It is shown in the government's reports that forty-eight per cent of the total lumber output of the United States in 1908 was pine. If something near this ratio is to be maintained, it must be by planting and growing the trees. Under the present system of taxation, neither individuals nor corporations will undertake the work. The investment, at the shortest, is one of thirty years before returns may be looked for, while twice that time is better business. Owners of pine forests are obliged now, and have been in past years, to cut their timber lands clean because of excessive taxation. To encourage the planting and cultivation of new pine forests, it would be better to levy no tax upon the individual's or corporation's young trees until the time that the timber has grown to a size fit to be marketed, and then only on that portion which is cut into lumber. Even with this encouragement it is an enterprise that belongs largely to the state, and from it must emanate the aggressive movement upon land belonging to the state.
On the subject of "Reforestation with White Pine," Prof. E. G. Cheyney, Director of the College of Forestry in the University of Minnesota, states: "Like everything else, a tree does better on good soil, but the pine tree has the faculty of growing well on soil too poor for any other crop.... On the best quality of soil the white pine tree has produced 100 M feet per acre in Europe. On the third quality soil it makes from 40 to 60 M feet. Our forest soils are, on the whole, of better quality than those devoted to forests in Europe.
"The Forest Experiment Station at Cloquet, under the control of the College of Forestry, is now studying this reforestation policy, and the State Forest Service is looking after the forest fires and expects to begin the reforestation of our State Forests this spring.
"There are now two National Forests in Minnesota aggregating about 1,300,000 acres and only 50,000 acres of State Forest. These State Forests should be increased to at least 3,000,000 acres."
Retrospect—Meed of Praise.
It is hoped that the foregoing pages have thrown some light upon the peculiar occupation of the pioneer woodsman as he is related to lumbering in the Northwest. There has been no attempt to do more than to give a plain recital of some of the events that have occurred in the experiences of one man while pioneering in this special field of the great timber and lumbering industry of the Northwest. Another, engaged in the same pursuit, might easily relate his personal experiences of equal or greater scope than have been herein portrayed, for not all has been said that might be of the woodsman's secluded life.
The occupation of this type of man is fast being eliminated, and soon his place will be known no more. In fact, the time has already arrived when there is no longer any primeval forest in the Northwest into which he may enter and separate himself from others of his own race. Railroads have been built in many directions into these vast forests, and the fine, stately pine trees have been cut down and sent out over the lines of these railroads. Menand their families have come from various states and from foreign countries, and are still coming to make for themselves homes on the lands now denuded of their once majestic forest trees towering high, and overshadowing all the earth beneath with their green branches and waving plumage.
"Prepare their fish just caught for the meal, by the open camp fire." (Page180.)
The neigh of the horse, the low of the cow or the ox, and the laugh or song of the child is now heard where twenty years ago in summer time, stalked fearlessly the moose and the deer, where roamed the bear at will, unmolested, safe from the crack of the white man's rifle.
The schoolhouse springs into existence, where a year ago were stumps and trees. The faithful teacher, fresh from one of the normal schools or colleges of the state, comes into the settlement to train the minds and to help mould the characters of the future farmers, mechanics, statesmen, or financiers; of the doctors, lawyers, judges; or honored wives and mothers. From this ever increasing supply of the newly-born Northwest, are coming and will continue to come, some of the most valued accretions of good citizens to the commonwealth of Minnesota.
Farms are yielding their first crops to the sturdy husbandman. Pleasant, comfortable homes meet the eye of the tourist from the city in summer as he motors over the fairly good roads of the northern frontier. He enters little towns carved out of the woods, and finds, now living happily, friends whom he had known in the city, who are ready to welcome him. He camps by the roadside on the shore of a lake, or on the bank of the Mississippi whose waters flowed on unobstructed in the earlier days herein recorded, but now are harnessed for the better service of man. Here he brings his family and friends to fish and to lunch, or, better still, to prepare their fish just caught for the meal, by the open camp fire. He continues his journey through this unbroken wilderness of less than a generation ago, over improving roads, to the very source of the Mississippi River that is within five minutes' walk of Lake Itasca. Here is a refreshing bit of natural pine forest, owned and preserved by the state of Minnesota, where he and his friends may find shelter for the night, and for a longer period if desired.
In concluding this subject, I am actuated by a desire to manifest my appreciation of the fine manhood possessed by many men whom I haveknown, the best part of whose lives has been spent similarly to my own, in the extensive forests that once beautified and adorned the great Northwest.
The occupation is one which demands many of the highest attributes of man. He must be skillful enough as a surveyor to always know which description of land he is on, and where he is on that description. He must be a good judge of timber, able to discern the difference between a sound tree and a defective one, as well as to estimate closely the quantity and quality of lumber, reckoned in feet, board measure, each tree will likely produce when sawed at the mill. He must examine the contour of the country where the timber is, and make calculations how the timber is to be gotten out, either by water or by rail, and estimate how much money per thousand feet it will cost, to bring the logs to market. The value of the standing pine or other timber in the woods is dependent on all of these conditions, which must be reckoned in arriving at an estimate of the desirability of each tract of timber as an investment for himself, or for whomsoever he may represent.
Possessing these qualifications, he must also be honest; he must be industrious; he must becourageous. He must gain the other side of rivers that have no bridges over them, and he must cross lakes on which there are no boats. He must find shelter when he has no tent, and make moccasins when his shoes are worn and no longer of service, and new ones are not to be obtained; he must be indefatigable, for he will often be tempted to leave some work half finished rather than overcome the physical obstacles that lay between him and the completion of his task.
On the character of this man and on his faithfulness, his honesty, his conscientiousness, and on the correctness of his knowledge concerning the quality, quantity, and situation as to marketing the timber he examines, depends the value of the investments. Hundreds of thousands of dollars are invested on the word of this man, after he has disappeared into the wilderness and emerged with his report of what he has seen. The requisitions of manhood for this work are of a very high degree, and, when such a man is found, he is entitled to all of the esteem that is ever accorded to an honest, faithful, conscientious cashier, banker, or administrator of a large estate.
"He continues his journey ... to the very source of the Mississippi River". (Page180.)
Is he required to furnish an illustrious example to prove the worthiness of his chosen occupation, let him cite to the inquirer the early manhood days of George Washington, who penetrated the forests from his home in Virginia, traveling through a country where savages roamed, pushing his course westward to the Ohio River in his search for valuable tracts of land for investment, and surveying lands for others than himself.
His occupation is an honorable one, and those who pursue it with an honest purpose, are accorded a high place in the esteem of those whom they serve, and with whom they associate.
"We sleep in the sleep of ages, the bleak, barbarian pines;The gray moss drapes us like sages, and closer we lock our lines,And deeper we clutch through the gelid gloom where never a sunbeam shines.Wind of the East, Wind of the West, wandering to and fro,Chant your songs in our topmost boughs, that the sons of men may knowThe peerless pine was the first to come, and the pine will be last to go!We spring from the gloom of the canyon's womb; in the valley's lap we lie;From the white foam-fringe, where the breakers cringe, to the peaks that tusk the sky,We climb, and we peer in the crag-locked mere that gleams like a golden eye.Gain to the verge of the hog-back ridge where the vision ranges free;Pines and pines and the shadow of pines as far as the eye can see;A steadfast legion of stalwart knights in dominant empery.Sun, moon and stars give answer; shall we not staunchly standEven as now, forever, wards of the wilder strand,Sentinels of the stillness, lords of the last, lone land?"
Transcriber's NotesInconsistencies in the placement of quotes before or after periods have not been changed.Pp. 36, 123: "fiancé" changed to "fiancée".P. 93: "empounding" changed to "impounding" (the necessity of impounding the waters).P. 169: "sufciently" changed to "sufficiently" (I moved just sufficiently).P. 181: "similarily" changed to "similarly" (similarly to my own).
Inconsistencies in the placement of quotes before or after periods have not been changed.
Pp. 36, 123: "fiancé" changed to "fiancée".
P. 93: "empounding" changed to "impounding" (the necessity of impounding the waters).
P. 169: "sufciently" changed to "sufficiently" (I moved just sufficiently).
P. 181: "similarily" changed to "similarly" (similarly to my own).