When Scott and his men returned to camp with the story naturally a gloom was cast over the crew. Next day, when the boss of the camp came in, he noted on the way the signs of the tragedy, and on making inquiries was told the sorrowful story. When told of the good qualities of the lad he was deeply touched, and leaving the camp the following day, he resolved to go himself to break the news to the Kid’s mother, carrying with him a collection of over a hundred dollars which had been made up by the members of the crew as a remembrance, to which he himself added a substantial amount. He drove directly to the lad’s home, and on his arrival introduced himself and handed over the purse intended for the mother. Then came a hard task for him. He talked for some time, but had difficulty in getting further with his story than the fact that the money was a gift from the crew of Camp No. 2. Beads of perspiration gathered on his brow. His face was strained, and the matter troubled him so much that he had almost made up his mind to leave without telling his story when the mother, noting the look of pain on his face, pleaded to know all about Charlie. The boss tried to speak, but could not utter the word which he felt would blast her hopes. Then, as she knelt before him and pleaded with him to tell her the truth, saying that she would be brave, and no further information came, she left the room a moment, later appearing with hat and shawl, and said, “Now, please take me to Charlie.” Finally, and almost in a whisper, the boss said: “No, you cannot go to Charlie. His soul is in heaven.”
After an agonized cry, the mother bravely got hold of herself and said: “Charlie’s soul in heaven. Thank God. I can go to him there. I shall be brave and bear the cross, for I know that Charlie will be company there for his father. They were such chums here on earth.”
While Charlie’s face was absent from the camp, his influence was still present. Scott, for instance, knelt and said his prayers every night before he climbed into his bunk, just as Kid had done that first night in camp, and as he prayed for himself Scott tried to remember the mother and kiddies who had suffered from the loss of their son and brother. Many of the men in the camp, too, had been influenced in a similar way, and Camp No. 2 was a different place than it had been six months previously.
When the winter’s work was completed and the men and teams were leaving their quarters, many a man turned to cast a last look at the camp where various joys had been known, where gloom had been shared by all and where trial and difficulty had been overcome. The procession of men, who through their experiences together that winter had become a sort of family, a brotherhood, wended their way along the tote road. Looking at them none could deny that these lumber-jacks were a noble breed of men. The sons and grandsons of pioneers, men of the north, conquerors of the forest, bound together by a chain of chivalrous deeds, of hardships and difficulties, they were doing their part in the building up of the future of a nation.
Scott was in the sleigh with the leading team. When they came opposite the spot where Kid had fought his last battle against the cruel forest conditions, a halt was ordered. The crew gathered around the spot and Jumbo, surprisingly, spoke first, saying: “So here’s where the Kid fought his last fight. I hope he saw that I wanted to be his friend. I’d have liked to take a whack at these brutes myself, or to have taken his place. I guess he would have been worth more in the world than I’ll be.”
The procession passed on its way sorrowfully. Possibly never again would the spot be visited by one who knew the story, but in the years following the men who had been in Camp No. 2 that winter told at their firesides tales of a lad who had fought his battle and won, of the cheerful-faced boy who was man enough to face the world and the hard things in it to support his mother, of the young man who tackled a man’s work and did it without a murmur, and who, above all these other things, loved God and was not afraid to acknowledge Him in his home and in the difficult conditions of the lumber camp.
SOME OF CANADA’S BIG MEN, GOOD MEN ARE HERE
IN EMBRYO. YOUR DUTY, BOYS, IS TO GET READY
NOW FOR THE BIG OPPORTUNITIES TO COME.