He said this, seeing the embarrassment of the Big Swede and hoping to make him easy in mind. The two mighty men then tackled the row of stumps, and in a short time they were uprooted, leaving an enormous chasm, the chasm which in this day is called Yosemite.
“Now, there is a historical accomplishment for all to read about,” said Paul Bunyan, with great satisfaction.
Followed by his foreman, he then strode over to the Bay and washed away the stains of toil. This done, he sat down and began to brush his beard with a young redwood tree.
“Now I will listen to you,” he said.
The Big Swede’s account of the loggers’ strange doings astonished him. The foreman had said nothing about their writing, for he had never heard of poetry and had hardly noticed the papers and pencils in the loggers’ hands.
“Aye tank dey yoost gat lazy noo,” he said, nodding sagely.
“I hope it is nothing worse,” said Paul Bunyan. “Laziness I can cure. But come; we must reach New Iowa before sundown.”
The two great men traveled swiftly, and they reached the orange palm forests just as the sun was touching fluffy clouds on the Western horizon. The loggers, gathered in the meadows around the camp, were reading aloud from pages which they held in their hands. They did not observe the approach of their leaders, and when Paul Bunyan got within hearing distance of them he stopped and listened.
“Blossoms, white blossoms! Oh, orange palm blossoms!
My heart is afloat on a sea of white blossoms;