The making of a man

by W. D. Flatt

“Kid, if you’re ever in trouble and want a friend, call on your Uncle Jumbo.”

In December, the following month, Kid’s time-cheque mounted to twenty-five dollars, and when he was being paid Scott informed him that he had earned every cent of it by working with a willing, cheerful spirit and by doing his level best, and that in this way he had been valuable even outside his regular work as an inspiration to the older members of the camp. This cheque reached his mother just before Christmas, in time to purchase a good many needed things and also to provide for a real Christmas, with a Christmas-tree and all the other accompaniments, for the little ones. In his turn Kid was delighted at Christmas to get a parcel of warm socks and mittens and a letter full of thanksgiving, in which the mother expressed her gratefulness to the men in Camp No. 2 for receiving her boy so kindly, and making special mention of the firm’s thoughtfulness.

A SCENE FAMILIAR IN THE LUMBER WOODS THIRTY
YEARS AGO.

DRESSING A PINE MONARCH FOR SHIPMENT OVERSEAS.

As spring approached even greater efforts were put forth in Camp No. 2. Scott, the man who never tired in doing his best for his employer, was like a mighty, silent force, appearing everywhere, apparently looking after everything grimly and resolutely. He had made up his mind to see all the logs at the river bank before spring set in, and the fairness of his treatment made every man resolve that he would do his part. Every night in camp stories were told of the number of logs cut and placed upon skids that day, and of the record loads hauled by one span of horses to the river. Each night the scaler handed in a report of the work accomplished that day to Scott, who, after going over these, lay down and slept the sleep which comes with the consciousness of a day’s work well done.

Learning that there was a shortage of teamsters. Kid, who knew a little about horses, offered himself for this work, and accordingly was assigned to team supplies for the camp along the tote road from the railroad, about sixty miles away. In sending him out Scott cautioned him of the danger from the wolves, particularly at night, and told him that if he were caught out on the road after nightfall he was to stop and build a fire at the first howl. Failing time for this he was to unhitch his team, climb on their backs, and make the camp the best way he could. He was instructed, however, to provide against being out after night by leaving the Halfway house, thirty miles from camp, at daybreak.

Naturally, Kid planned to follow these instructions carefully, and on his first trip left the Halfway house even before daylight, but unfortunately, because of a heavy fall of snow during the day, was not able to keep to the anticipated schedule. When about six miles from camp darkness set in and he found himself alone in the forest.

Suddenly the howl of a wolf was heard. Following instructions he stopped the team and tried to gather birchbark and bits of wood to build his fire. It was cold, forty below, and doubtless the lad was cold and numb from the cold and frost when the wolves surrounded him. Probably, also, the team became frightened at the wolves, had upset the sleigh and got away. Since there was no witness to the tragedy no one knew definitely. At the time of the lad’s probable arrival Scott ran outside the camp with a lantern and peered down the tote road. As time went by he became alarmed at the failure of the lad to arrive and suddenly, when he heard the dashing of hoofs and saw the team running madly as if chased, he understood that something unusual had happened. With two men and a fresh team he started back over the tote road, and in a little time found their fears realized. Coming to the upturned sleigh, they saw shadowy forms sneaking away into the forest, and a little further on, underneath a tree beside the road, which the boy had evidently tried to climb, were torn boots and some bits of tattered clothing. Probably the lad had climbed the tree, but in his numb condition was unable to hang on and had fallen, becoming a prey to those ferocious brutes. While the lumber-jacks were in some respects hard men and had seen accidents and somewhat similar things before, their regard for the boy who had proved himself a real man made tears flow from their eyes, which froze into icicles as they trickled down their bearded faces. There before them, written on the snow around their feet, was the sad tale of how the heroic lad had met his end in the forest, doing his duty. Scott appreciated what this side of the tragedy would mean to the lad’s mother, fully realizing that she would appreciate how the lad had lived up to his duty, and would understand that God’s angels had been there to claim the spirit of her boy and take it up to a better home than earth affords.