CHAPTER XIII
A Co-operative Proposition
It was rather later than they had anticipated when Hank and Joe arrivedat Sam Fennick's shack on the following day; for again a thaw had setin--not the "silver thaw" so much prized in Canada, which they hadpreviously experienced, and which, by freezing the upper layer of snowand, as it were, laying a sound crust upon it, had enabled them to makegood progress, but a thaw unaccompanied by change, or, to be exact, notfollowed by a succeeding frost. They finished their journey,therefore, through a snowy slush, sinking often above their knees,while their moccasins and their feet were wringing wet and very cold.
Shouts greeted them.
"Why, if it ain't Joe!" came from Sam heartily, in his well-knownbellowing tones, while the ineradicable cockney accent was obviouslythere; in fact, it was an accent of which Sam was proud. It wassomething never likely to leave him however long he remained in Canada,and however much he interlarded his conversation with Americanisms."Missus, it's Joe!" he shouted, turning his head over his shoulder.Then he dashed forward, seized our hero's hand, and squeezed it tillthe latter almost winced.
"Howdy?" he exclaimed, swinging on Hank. "Introduce us."
"Hank," said Joe shortly, "hunter and trapper, a friend of mine. Hank,this is Sam Fennick; but----"
"In course I knows Sam," cried Hank, stretching out his wiry littlepaw, but one, nevertheless, which could give a grip that would make astrong man squirm. After all, outside the polite society of London andother large cities, where very vigorous handshaking is not looked onwith favour, men often enough, the rough men of the plain, the prairie,the backwoods farm, and of the forest, exchange greetings with anearnestness there is no denying. Such men do not simper and danglenerveless fingers before a stranger. They stand facing squarely,looking closely into the other's eyes, and when their hands meet, andtheir fingers grip the other's, the firmness of the grip, its vigour,its unflinching support of the return pressure somehow conveyssomething of the character of one man to the other. Hank had treatedJoe in that way. To a man such as Hurley, whom he did not like, whomhe suspected to be a craven, Hank merely waved or nodded; for he hadhis own views of what was proper, and they were far more exact and farmore straightforward than one would have imagined.
"What! You, Hank--me old pal!" shouted Sam, delighted beyond measure,and almost hugging the little hunter. "You along o' Joe? How's that?He been doing something fer you, same as he did fer us?"
Hank asked an abrupt question. "What?"
"Ain't he never let on about the fire aboard ship, the rumpus therewas, and how he led the volunteers?"
"Nary a word. Peter--Peter Strike, that is--did tell me a tale, but hewarn't too sure of it. The young cuss is that silent when it comes tohisself. But he's been doing well. Sam, let's get these wet thingsoff us, and something hot inside, and then we'll gas. Gee! Ef thatain't Mrs. Fennick! Howdy, maam? Here's Joe."
The good woman almost embraced our hero, for she felt like a mother tohim.
"Come right in and let us hear all about you and your doings," shecried. "And Hank Mitchell too! I'm that glad to see you both, and Samhas been waitin' these many days for you to arrive. He's got a schemefor the winter."
The grinning master of the shack accompanied the visitors into theinterior of the shack, and there stood, first on one leg and then onthe other, while Joe and Hank looked keenly about them. It was to beexpected that a man of Sam's energy, a Canadian settler who likedthings to be right, should have erected a dwelling which should befitting for his wife. Besides, there was reason for even greatermagnificence.
"Guess you've been hard at work," said Hank, looking about him withtwinkling eyes that nothing escaped. "This here shack's meant to last."
"It's that and more," cried Mrs. Fennick, pride in her tones. "Sam hasbuilt for a purpose. This shack's too big for what we want; he plannedto have an office."
"Eh?" asked Hank, turning on the grinning owner, who had flushed to theroots of his hair for all the world as if he were a schoolboy. "What'sthis?"
"Part of the scheme, lad," came the answer. "Jest you two get seatedand pull off those wet moccasins; then, when you've got dry socks toyour feet and has had a bite, I'll get to at it. It's a fine yarn;I've dreamed of it this past five years."
No amount of persuasion would drag from Sam what his scheme was tillJoe and Hank had eaten, and the latter had lit up a pipe.
"You kin fire in at it, Sam," said Hank at length, in the crisp littlemanner which was so distinctly his own. "I kinder gathered from thishere Joe that when you came along up here prospecting it warn't withthe idea of the ordinary farm. Maam, it's plain to see as my oldfriend has nigh worked his fingers to the bone."
Once more the little hunter's eyes went round the large parlour inwhich he and the others were seated, while Mrs. Fennick and her husbandfollowed his glances with frank pride staring from their own eyes. Norcould Joe help but admire all that he saw; for he and Sam had beenparted but a matter of a few months, and in the course of that time thelatter had pitched upon a suitable holding for his farm, and had cutthe timber for his shack, besides erecting the house. As to thelatter, it was far bigger than the ordinary shack erected by thesettler. There was a parlour, a kitchen, and three bedrooms, whileattached at one side was a large office.
"Where we'll have the telephone afore you kin look round," declaredSam. "It's jest like this. Me and a mate or two agreed to go alongtogether into New Ontario and pitch upon a spot that was likely to openup. Wall, we took the line the branch railway was following, thoughthere's not one save those in the know behind the scenes, who kin sayexactly where it'll run. Still, me and the others prospected a heaptill we came along here. What with the difficulties of rocks to thesouth, and big, straggling elevations, it was clear as the rails mustfollow the valley, and there warn't more'n one for 'em to take. So weprospected along it till we came here. You jist come outside the doorand you'll see what I'm after."
He led the way to the door of the shack and pointed to the north acrossa narrow stretch of country bounded on either hand by elevated land,and seamed along a straggling line running a little to one side of itscentre by a thin strip of blue which, here and there, was entirelycovered with snow. As for the landscape itself, it was difficult totell its aspect exactly, in spite of the thaw, for snow lay deeply inmost parts.
"Wall?" asked Hank curtly, looking about him and taking in everyfeature. "It's the top end of the valley, I kin see that. Railsrunning north kin easily pass out, seeing that the two ridges on eitherside don't run together. But they can't cut off to right or left. Efthe rails comes along this way, why, in course they passes rightthrough this location."
"Along by the river," said Sam quickly. "Hank, it's an easy rise allthe way. The river ain't got no current to speak of, which tells thetale easily. As to the rails coming along into the valley down south,why, that is almost certain, as sure as one can take it. Anyway, meand my mates agreed that it was more than likely, and so we arranged totake up holdings here. There's four of us already, Claude and Jim andJoe makes seven, and come spring-time there's nigh twenty more marriedmen to join us."
"Wall?" asked Hank, not as yet clear as to what was Sam's meaning."Where's the difference between this and other settlements? You takesup land, and the rails come along. Good! Up goes the value of theland, as it aer sartin to do. You get a reward for foresight; afterthat, where's the difference?"
Sam had evidently sought for the question, for he rubbed his handstogether eagerly and gripped Hank's sleeve.
"Jest here," he declared with enthusiasm. "Instead of some twenty ofus starting to work our sections separately, and going mighty slow inconsequence, we're forming a corporation. Each man who takes land willpool money with the corporation. With that money we buy implements,horses, cattle, everything that's needed. We divide our numbers intoparties, and come the spring one of 'em sets to work to build theshacks, another does the ploughing, while a thi
rd'll get to at theirrigation channels."
"Ah!" gasped Hank. "This aer new."
"Sam worked the scheme out all alone," declared Mrs. Fennick, withenergy, causing her lord and master to blush again.
"It sounds just splendid," cried Hank. "Wall? What more? I kin seethat there's an advantage in working ground on the corporation system.If you've got the timber cut already, it stands to reason that ten menworking on a shack can put it up more'n ten times quicker than one manall alone. If there's twenty shacks wanted, ten men can put 'em upheaps faster than twenty fellers working on their own. And irrigationtoo! That sounds fine; it's doing well elsewhere."
Hank spoke but the truth there. A far-seeing Dominion Government andan all-powerful railway company have already seamed portions of Canadawith canals and ditches with which water is borne to lands hithertouseless. Their forethought has converted, and is fast converting,barren soil into country which in parts already bears smiling crops andhappy homesteads. As for the corporate system, if the DominionGovernment has not attempted that--and one must admit that it is aquestion more for individual settlers--it has at least other worthyschemes. A would-be settler can now sail for the Dominion, to findthere a quarter section prepared for his coming, with the shack built,the well dug, and some forty acres broken and seeded. For this he paysa reasonably small sum down, and the rest by small instalments. Thinkof the huge advantage of such a system. In place of finding nakedsoil, and having first to build a shelter and then break the land, asettler finds a home in readiness and crops already sprouting. Thenconsider Sam Fennick's proposition.
"It aer bound to go with a bang," declared Hank, pushing his skin capto the back of his head and scratching his forehead. "It aer jesttremendous."
"It'll work, I think," agreed Sam, with the natural modesty of theinventor of such a daring scheme. "Anyway, we've got the partytogether, and there'll be money in abundance. Each man will own hisown taking, and ef others come along and settle nigh us, why, we'reprepared to hire ourselves out ef there's a call and we've the time.As for implements, me and a few of them has talked it over, and comethe spring there'll be two steam agricultural motors up here, in whichwe kin burn wood. They'll each do ploughing at three to four acres aday, and will draw the reapers and binders when it comes to harvesting.There won't be no need to wait for a threshing gang, 'cos the tractorswill drive the machine we shall buy. They kin do wood sawing too, anda hundred other things, besides hauling the stuff to market."
"Ah!" gasped Hank, for this was a proposition which rather took hisbreath away by its novelty and its possibilities. "But----"
"Yes?" asked Sam, bracing himself, as if to face any awkward questionsthe little hunter might fire off at him.
"There's the winter," said Hank. "Your corporation comes to an endwhen the snow comes; you ain't thought of that."
But Sam had; he wagged a knowing finger, while Mrs. Fennick giggled.Indeed, it must be admitted that this cockney settler, who had comefrom London and done so well in the Dominion, had proved himself morethan astute. Perhaps he had thought the whole matter out during somepast winter in Canada. In any case, he had been wonderfully closewhere his scheme was concerned, for never once had he more than hintedat it to Joe. However, the question of work in the winter had notescaped him.
"You listen here," he said, shaking Hank as if he were a dog. "Comewintertime east of the rockies things mostly closes down in Canada;even in the towns there ain't too much work. There's men wandering toand fro searching for jobs, whereas, most times and in most places,when there's spring and summer, there's more jobs than men."
"Guess that aer so," agreed Hank, sucking hard at his pipe.
"But there's work in Canada that starts in the fall, and only then--eh?"
"Lumberin'," suggested Hank.
"Lumbering it aer," cried Sam, drawling the words. "Up there beyondthe break through which the railway'll pass, ef we've any luck, there'sland that's heavily timbered. Wall, it's part of the scheme. You kinget a timber concession from Government by paying so much on the logsyou cut, and me and my mates has taken up a tidy piece of timbercountry. There's a lake twenty miles and more north into which we canslide the logs, and there's another jest at the head of the valley.Way south there's a quickish fall, with water in plenty, and ef allgoes well, and we kin make enough dollars, why, we'll start a millthere and saw our timber. The rails'll be close by then, and will take'em on to market."
"My," cried Hank, "you've been moving!"
"We're only beginning," said Sam. "But we starts out for a lumber campsoon as the frost comes, and there we'll work till springtime. Youaxed what we was going to do in the winter. There's the answer."
It must be confessed that Sam Fennick's scheme was ambitious to thelast degree. But then, if one analyses it, one can see thepossibilities that Hank saw, for co-operative working is often enoughwonderfully successful where the single individual fails. Again, in acountry where labour is scarce, and profits often lessened because ofthe lack of labour at critical periods; where, in fact, a man who mayhave broken and sown his land with the greatest industry may see hiscrops rot in spite of his energy, simply and solely because of the lackof help to harvest them; there, in a case such as that, theco-operation of his fellows would be all in all to him. Indeed, withpooled labour, and a certain sum pooled by all the settlers with whichto buy implements, it stands to reason that work could be done morecheaply, more expeditiously, and always at the proper season.
"It aer a grand proposition," declared Hank, when he had thoroughlyconsidered the matter. "I kin see a big saving in more than one way,and one of 'em's this. Suppose there's twenty settlers in the combine.Wall, now, with ten ploughs and ten harrows and seeders you've tools tobreak the land. Supposing there warn't a combine; each man has his owntools. They ain't all in use together, so some of 'em's lying idle.That's gain number one, and don't you try to contradict me. And soyou're goin' lumberin'?"
"We are that," assented Sam; "and seems to me you and Joe had bettercome along with us. You could put in a month or more, and then goalong on prospecting."
It took our hero and his hunter companion but a little while to acceptthe invitation, the more so as Joe was already more or less one of thecorporation Sam was forming.
"There's dollars in the scheme right through," Hank said, as they satround the stove that evening. "Ef you'll have me as one of the band,I'll apply for my two hundred acres right off, paying for 'em, for Iain't able to take up more free land. Joe's in the same fix. But heaer got the dollars to pay. We'll come north with you and do a littlelumbering. Afterwards he and I kin move on farther, for I've aproposition of my own to look into."
"But----" began Joe, who had been a listener for the most part up tillnow.
"Huh! He's agoin' to criticize the scheme and pour cold water on it,"grinned Hank, swinging round on our hero. "Tell you, Sam, this hereyoungster aer had his eyes opened wide sense he came out, and he'sturnin' into a business farmer. Wall, what are it?"
"This lumbering," began Joe diffidently, colouring at so much attentionbeing attracted to him.
"Just you give 'em what you think and don't be afraid," cried Mrs.Fennick encouragingly. "The lad that could organize volunteers aboardship has a right to speak. Sam, likely as not he'll show you and Hankthat you've made a big error somewheres. Now, Joe."
"I was merely asking about the lumbering," said Joe. "I alwaysgathered that lumberers were men who were more or less trained. Theygo out in gangs, don't they?"
"And so'll we," interrupted Sam, with eagerness. "But there ain't somany chaps out here that hasn't had a turn with the gangs some time.I've done a season; p'raps Hank has too."
"You bet," came from that individual. "I've done most things 'way outhere, from gold diggin' to farming pure and simple. Huntin' aer myproper trade, but I ain't too proud to do anything. Even when I'm myown master I ain't above takin' on a job for someone else ef I've thetime, and the money's good enough."<
br />
"Then there's two of us has done the work before," declared Sam."Eight or nine of the boys I've fixed it with to join our corporationare already up in the woods, where we'll join 'em. They've a shackbuilt this three months, and no doubt they've started in felling."
It appeared, indeed, as if the thoughtful Sam had made very completearrangements, and there was little doubt but that Hank, as an old andexperienced colonial, was delighted.
"It aer a fine proposition," he repeated for perhaps the twentiethtime. "When other folks is buried in the snow, and only finding workwith feeding the cattle and sichlike, we'll be cutting timber that'llbring dollars in the summer, and be back on our holdings time enough toplough and sow and make ready for harvest. Autumn will see usthreshing, and by the time the grain is hauled down to the railwaythere'll be frosts. Then out we go again. Gee, Sam, this fair ticklesme!"
A week later the little band of lumbermen was collected together, whileTom Egan, a sturdy settler some fifty years of age, had arrived fromhis own little shack across the valley and had taken up his residenceat Sam's dwelling, where it was arranged that Mrs. Fennick should staywith Egan's wife and children.
"Yer see," explained Sam, "a lumber camp ain't no sorter place for awoman. It's rough living all the while. Men are packed together asclose as sardines, and even then it's mighty cold. So the missus stayshere with the Egans while we move on."
They slung their traps over their shoulders, and with snowshoes ontheir feet set out towards the north. The thaw of the past week had bynow given way to severe frosts, while there had been a heavy fall ofsnow. However, none but a confirmed grumbler could have found faultwith the conditions, for a bright sun flooded the landscape, shimmeringon hillocks of snow, throwing long blue shadows athwart the hollows,and causing the millions of particles of ice to flash and scintillate.There was a dry, exhilarating crispness about the atmosphere that wastypically Canadian, a bracing coldness that made the little band stepout briskly, Hank at their head, Sam following; then Joe, and Jim andClaude, the two young friends he had made aboard the steamer, marchingside by side. Dick Parsons, a lanky, bearded colonial, brought up therear, a veritable grenadier in proportions.
They formed a merry party in their lean-to that night, and went ontheir journey on the following morning with undiminished vigour. Latethe following day the crisp ring of axes coming to their ears throughthe tree trunks of the forest they had plunged into some hours beforetold them that the lumber camp was within easy distance. Shoutsgreeted them as they trailed into a narrow clearing, at the back ofwhich stood a low-built shack half-buried in snow, and with its roofsupporting a vast mass of that material. Smoke issued gently from acentrally-placed chimney, while the door was wide open. Hearty indeedwas the greeting, then the hut swallowed the whole party.
"You've jest come along in time for tea," cried one of the lumbermen, abearded giant even taller than Parsons. "Sit ye down right there andwe'll give you a meal that'll show you how we've been living. Bill,you fish out that bear's meat you've a-stewing, while we others get thetea on the table."
The table, let us explain, was a mere apology for that article ascivilized individuals understand the term, for your lumberman has notime to devote to the niceties of furniture construction. Joe indeedfound himself marvelling at the crudeness of their work and yet at itsobvious utility; for split stakes had been driven into the ground downthe centre of the shack, and cross pieces nailed on top. More longsplit logs secured to these formed the top of a table some two feetwide. As for benches, they were fashioned in the same manner alongeither side, and were by now fully occupied. A huge enamelled-wareteapot was passing from hand to hand, while Bill, the cook to thisexpedition, was standing at one end of the table dealing out helpingsof a savoury bear-meat stew that tickled the nostrils of everyone.
"What about sleeping?" asked Joe presently, when the meal was finishedand the lumber gang had gathered round the open fire placed at one endof the table. "Is there another room?"
"Another!" exclaimed Harvey Bent, the chief of the party. "Young man,there ain't time fer buildin' luxuries when you're lumberin', andwhat's more, guess there ain't warmth enough. Time we turns into-night there'll be jest about room fer the lot of us, and no more.The closer we are the warmer, and 'way out here, when the thermometer'sdown below zero, that means something to men who has to work."
Joe and his friends found that the sleeping accommodation was quaint inthe extreme. Along one side of the shack a sloping platform had beenbuilt of the usual split logs, and piles of blankets lay upon it.Going to bed was a simple proceeding in this lumber camp; for menmerely slipped off their boots and hats and wrapped themselves in ablanket. Then they lay down side by side, packed closely together, soclosely, in fact, that to turn was an impossibility. But Joe and hisyoung friends, who were novices like himself, discovered very soon thatthese old lumbermen were not without consideration. They allowed forthe possibility of a change of position, and that very night, some timein the small hours, a hoarse command awakened them.
"Heave!" they heard, and promptly, more asleep than awake, the band ofmen rolled over on to the other side and once more settled into snoresand slumber.
"It's a sight that'll do your eyes good," declared Hank, early on thefollowing morning, when the gang had eaten. "You watch these fellerscutting down their timber. It ain't likely that you'll be wanted fermuch to-day, and so we'll take a look at 'em and then see their mates.All of the gang ain't fellers. It stands to reason that someone's gotto deal with the timber when it's down, and has to haul it out of theway to where the water kin deal with it. We're high up here, for wewas climbing most of yesterday, and this here shack aer located jest atthe top of a steep slope cutting sheer down to the lake that Sammentioned. You come along with me; when we've had a look round we kintackle a job with the others."
Donning their snowshoes and taking their rifles with them--for it wasalready agreed that Hank should hunt for the gang and procure themfresh meat--he and Joe went sliding off along the hillside, andpresently, reaching a spot where the lumberman's axe had cleared thetrees, were able to get a clear view of their surroundings. Down belowthem, two or more hundred feet perhaps, was a vast expanse of white,unbroken for the most part, though here and there there was adark-coloured elevation denoting an island, the huge expanse being thefrozen and snow-covered surface of the lake. Beyond there was forest,patched with snow, silent and forbidding. As for the steep slope atthat part, it was scored with a hundred and more tracks.
"Where the logs slide down to the lake," said Hank. "Now we'll goalong and see 'em at it. My, these trees are mighty big, and will sawinto fine logs! Ef that railway comes up this way, as Sam believes,timber'll be wanted, and the work that's being done here will bring itsown reward. Ah! there's axes! Jest you come and see how a Canadianlumberman tackles a forest giant, and can throw the tree jest whereverhe wants."
Joe marvelled, indeed, at the skill and the energy of the lumbermen.Hearty, healthy fellows one and all, they went at their work as if theyloved it. Cutting niches with their axes high up the stem of a giant,they drove wooden stakes into the crevices thus prepared, and soon hada platform built on this somewhat insecure foundation. Then came thering of axes swiftly falling, a hoarse cry of warning, twice repeated,followed by a reverberating roar as the giant succumbed to humanforces, crashing to the ground with a thud which shook thesurroundings. Joe stood by as one of the biggest of the trees tumbled,and watched the lumbermen shredding the branches from the fallentimber. The naked trunk was then levered with crowbars, and with afinal jerk was sent skidding and sliding down the hillside, to come toa halt at the bottom, perhaps on the frozen surface of the lake, or atany rate within a few feet of it.
"There's a couple of men working down there with a hoss," explainedHank. "They hitches on to the logs that don't reach the lake and drag'em into position. Look away down. There's a hull crowd of timberwaitin' for the end of winter."
"And then?" a
sked Joe, for he was ignorant for the most part of thework of lumbermen.
"Why, the ice breaks up," said Hank, "the logs gets carried into thelake, and the 'drivers' takes 'em in hand. A mighty hard and dangerousjob theirs is, too. They has to be at it night and day, wet and fine.Each of 'em has a long pole with a spike at the end, and theirparticular work aer to send the logs down. Sometimes the streamcarries 'em all right. Sometimes they gets hung up in corners andeddies, and the driver has to set 'em afloat agin. Then, down at thebottom of a lake same as this it ain't so seldom that logs and ice'llform a jam. One of the logs gets across the outlet, stuck up on a rockor two. Others piles up behind, with blocks of ice maybe, till there'sten foot high of logs and stuff, with a mass of water and ice and logs'way behind. That aer a ticklish job to tackle, and many a driver hasbeen killed or drowned. But they ain't never afraid, and there ain'tmuch that they can't do. I've seed 'em hopping from floating log tolog and steering a single trunk downstream, as ef they was aboard acanoe and not on top of a thing that'd roll over with the ordinaryfeller. Now, we'll make right off out of hearing of the camp. Billwar telling me this morning that when that bear's meat aer done, thereain't nothing left but pork."
It was with the keenness of a schoolboy that Joe threw himself into thework at the lumber camp. That very evening he was told off with thehauling gang, and for a month and more assisted in dragging the felledtimber to the edge of the lake; and never once did he find the hoursdrag or the work too heavy. As for the evenings, they were a delightto all; for your lumberman's camp is a veritable club. There, with thedoor shut and a hot fire burning, the men made a circle once their mealwas finished. Pipes were filled, and clouds of smoke obscured thesurroundings, dimming the rays from the single oil lantern hangingoverhead. And what yarns those colonials could tell! Rugged, honestfellows, they spoke in a simple manly manner which was captivating.The boaster was not to be found amongst them; their tales were of deedswhich had actually occurred, while the truth of their statements wasapparent. As for chaff, they were never done with it. Harmless jokesand horse-play made the evenings jovial and merry. It was thus thatour hero passed a portion of his first Canadian winter, revelling inthe brisk atmosphere and in his work, boon companion to every member ofthe lumber gang. Then he and Hank bade farewell to their comrades and,shouldering their packs, set out for the north, for a country hardlyever explored, where danger and difficulty awaited them.