The shantyman's recess comes when the evening meal has been despatched. He has an hour or more before bed-time. It is pipes all round, and song and joke and story win generous applause from the not over-critical audience. The French-Canadians are especially fond of singing. They have many songs, some of which, like "À la claire fontaine" and "En roulant ma boule," are full of spirit and beauty. If François or Alec has remembered to bring his fiddle with him—and he seldom forgets it—the singing is sure to be followed by dancing as the evening goes on.
Bedtime comes early in the shanty. By nine o'clock, at the latest, all have "turned in." The process of going to bed consists simply in taking off one's coat and boots, and rolling up snugly in a couple of thick blankets. Many a millionaire would gladly give one of his millions for the ability to sleep as soundly and restfully in his soft bed as does the shantyman upon his pine boards.
In the dusk of early morning the foreman's loud voice is heard calling to the men,—
"Turn out now, and get your breakfast!"
The lumberman has been asleep ten good hours, but he feels as if he had just lain down!
Sunday is the day the shantyman likes best. No work is done upon that day. He can spend the time as he pleases. Generally he is content to lounge about smoking, and enjoying the luxury of doing nothing. A religious service is so rare a treat that when there is one all attend it without reference to their creed.
Thus the long winter slips by. The logs accumulate upon the river bank or out upon the icy lake. When the warm days of spring come the lumberman's labours are at an end, so far as the shanty is concerned. The great spring drive begins. The logs start upon their journey southward, and the shantyman becomes a river-driver. Armed with pike-pole or camp-hook, he hurries his awkward squads of logs down stream as a shepherd drives his flock to market.
This is often a very exciting and dangerous occupation. The Canadian rivers abound in falls and rapids, past which the flocks of tree-trunks have to be guided skilfully. Many a time the river-driver's life is in peril as he wades through the turbulent, ice-cold water, or leaps from rock to rock, or from log to log, in his efforts to prevent his charges from stranding.
When the drive is finished the shantyman's labours are over, until the return of autumn recalls him to the forest.
