From such a tree-top, like a mariner at the mast-head upon the "look-out" for whales (for indeed the Pine is the whale of the forest), large "clumps" and "veins" of Pine are discovered, whose towering tops may be seen for miles around. Such views fill the bosom of timber-hunters with an intense interest. They are the object of his search, his treasure, his El Dorado, and they are beheld with peculiar and thrilling emotions. To detail the process more minutely, we should observe that the man in the tree-top points out the direction in which the Pines are seen; or, if hid from the view of those below by the surrounding foliage, he breaks a small limb, and throws it in the direction in which they appear, while a man at the base marks the direction indicated by the falling limb by a compass which he holds in his hand, the compass being quite as necessary in the wilderness as on the pathless ocean.
In fair weather the sun serves as an important guide; and in cloudy weather the close observation of an experienced woodsman will enable him to steer a tolerably correct course by the moss which grows on the trunks of most hard-wood trees, the north side of which are covered with a much larger share than the other portions of the trunk. This Indian compass, however, is not very convenient nor safe, particularly in passing through swampy lands, which are of frequent occurrence.
After spending several days in scouring the wilderness in search of the Pines, minutely examining their quality (for an experienced lumberman can determine this with surprising certainty), calculating the distance the logs may have to be hauled, and noting the surface of the land through which the logging roads are to be cut, &c., we retrace our steps to the landing, where the bateau has been left. Once more our frail bark floats upon the dancing current of the stream, gliding onward as if stimulated with the very joyousness of the "homeward bound" voyagers. After several days' exploration on foot, the boat ride is particularly welcome. In the realization of this, however, we are sometimes sadly, even provokingly disappointed.
It is known to those versed in the habits of the black bear, that late in the fall of the year they manifest an uncommon fondness for pitch or resinous substances. In the course of my travels through the forest, I have often seen Fir-trees which contained large quantities of balsam, with their bark entirely stripped from the trunk by these craving depredators. Under the impulses of this peculiar appetite, they sometimes tear even our bateau to pieces for the tar with which it is besmeared. If injured beyond the means of repair, we are compelled to pursue our journey down on foot. Perchance we may fortunately meet some Indian trapper with his frail canoe, which we charter for a portion of the journey, until another boat, or means of conveyance, can be secured. Were any of my readers ever on board the Indian's bark canoe? Some, doubtless, have been, and such will bear me out in the declaration that the voyager experiences emotions peculiarly agreeable. As a conveyance, it seems to occupy a space between riding and flying; not in respect to its speed, although this is considerable when the paddle is vigorously applied, but its fairy-like buoyancy quite dissipates the idea of one's gravity.
Having determined, during the exploration, upon the territory from which we wish to cut and haul our logs, we proceed to obtain permits from the state or proprietors, which secure the exclusive right to cut timber within the bounds of the grant for a stipulated price; so much per thousand feet, board-measure, which varies from one to eight dollars per M., according to the quality of the timber and its convenient location to the lake, river, or stream upon which it is to be floated to market. Among other preliminaries which anticipate the winter operations of lumbermen is the "putting up" of large quantities of meadow hay.
Skirting the stagnant sections of rivers and streams, extensive strips of meadow land spread back to the border of "uplands," whose outlines are distinctly defined by immense forests which hem in these large areas, sometimes embracing many thousands of acres. This intervale is covered with a heavy growth of meadow grass. By this remarkable arrangement, Nature has anticipated, as it would appear, the wants of lumbermen in locating, and in preserving from the encroachments of the forest, a plentiful supply of subsistence for the teams employed in procuring lumber in its immediate vicinity, and far from the haunts of civilized man.
To these wild and solemn retreats, where the dismal hooting of the night-owl breaks upon the ear, and the sighing winds, as they pass through the tall, waving grass, waft the distant howl of the wolf, large crews of men resort, with the usual haying implements, provisions, &c., for making and stacking the hay to be used during the ensuing winter.
In the latter part of autumn these meadows are covered with water, which finally freezes. It is therefore necessary to erect temporary scaffolds, called more generally "staddles," upon which the hay is to be piled in large stacks. These staddles are made of poles laid upon cross-stakes or crutches, sufficiently high to protect the hay from the water beneath. From these the hay is removed, sometimes in boats before the waters freeze, and afterward upon sleds on the ice. When the former method of transportation is adopted, two bateaus or skiffs are placed side by side, small poles being thrown across them; the hay is then loaded on this platform, and carried to the most convenient landing, where it is reloaded and hauled on ox-sleds to the camp. If the hay is removed upon the ice, the stacks are hauled away whole. The mode of loading is simple; the central part of the scaffolding is cut away, the sled shoved underneath, when the remaining props are cut away, and the whole stack settles on to the sled, and is thus moved off to the place of destination. This expeditious method of loading is particularly convenient and desirable, as may be imagined when one takes into consideration the biting winter winds which sweep across these wide meadow fields.
Since agricultural interests have invited men far into the interior in the vicinity of lumber berths, where large tracts of land have been cleared up, less value is attached to, and less use made of meadow hay than formerly, as English grass becomes more plenty, is more available, and is much better in its quality.
A distinguishing characteristic of this kind of business is the unceasing encounter by our lumbermen with the blood-thirsty millions of flies who swarm and triumph over these sanguinary fields. In the use of fire-arms these unvanquishable hosts are not skilled, to be sure, but in a charge they are invincible. No amount of slaughter will intimidate them. Though the sweeping hand of destruction annihilates them by thousands, still, with full ranks, the contest is carried on with unabated vigor, a respite only being afforded in rainy weather, or when high winds prevail; then they retire from the field.