Occasionally some rougher specimen mars the order and pleasantness of this wild-wood converse by an oath or coarse remark, heard, perhaps, but unheeded by the more serious and thoughtful. Such men are found everywhere, in the streets, saloons, and even in the wilderness, men who pollute the air in which they move with profanity and obscenity. These are not the men who succeed and build up great fortunes; these are not the true conquerors of the wilderness. The sober, thoughtful man is the man who succeeds. It is not necessary that he have the learning acquired from books, or a smattering of science from the schools. He may acquire great knowledge by close study of men, and observation of the phenomena of nature, and so make himself a peer of the book worm and scholar of the library and schools.

The acquaintances formed in these camp scenes and toils often result in life long friendships, and the scenes of camp, river and forest become cherished reminiscences to the actors, who are as fond of recalling them as veteran soldiers are of recounting the hairbreadth escapes and stirring incidents of campaign life.

The drive ends with the delivery of the logs at the booms and mills, the men are paid off and devote themselves for the remainder of the summer to other work.

LUMBERING ON THE ST. CROIX IN 1886.

The St. Croix lumberman, after the lapse of nearly fifty years, is still a picturesque figure, clad, as he is, in coarse, strong woolen garments, these of brilliant red, yellow, blue and green, or in some cases as variegated as Joseph's coat of many colors. He is usually a man of stalwart frame, which is set off to advantage by his close fitting garments. His circumstances are, however, widely different from his old time predecessor.

The rough, hard work of the wilderness, including the building of dams, the construction of reservoirs and roads, and the improvement of the streams, has been accomplished chiefly by his predecessors. He is abundantly supplied with food, produced almost in the neighborhood of the scenes of his winter's work. He travels by rail almost to his destination or drives blooded teams over comparatively good roads, where his predecessors tediously blazed the way and cleared it of underbrush. His camp accommodations are far superior. He is housed in comfortable cabins, warmed with large stoves and heaters, whereas the cabin of the lumberman of 1845 had a fire built on the ground in the centre of the room. The modern camp is well furnished with tables and other conveniences. The cook has a separate room furnished with a cooking stove and modern appliances for cooking. He has his assistant, known as the "cookee" or second cook. The table is spread with a variety of food, and delicacies that would have astounded the lumberman of 1845. Each operator is limited to his own special work. His bounds are set and he can go no further, except at the risk of the loss of his labor.

The work goes on with clock-like precision and is comparatively easy. Everything is done on a larger scale and more economically. The crews are larger and the life is not near so solitary. The various crews employed for the spring drive combine and thereby greatly increase their efficiency. They are supplied with better and covered boats. The cook in the drive has in addition to his "cookee" a wangan man to assist in managing the boat. The drives are larger and yet more easily handled, the conveniences are greater and the expenses less. The men are more independent, and owing to the number employed, and the nearness of settlements and villages, more sociable, and possibly more hilarious and less thoughtful. We shall nevertheless find among them men of character, thoughtful, industrious and earnest men, who would have shone in the associations of the earlier camps and who will doubtless in the future be ranked among the successful and capable men, worthy successors of the veterans now leaving the stage of action.

Conjecture as to the future of the lumbering industry, and consequently as to the character of the men engaged in it, would be idle. Who can tell what a day or another fifty years may bring forth? The pine woods will not last always; already the camps are being pushed further and further to the north and west, and whereever the denuded pine lands are arable the farmer is making his home. The lumbering industry is also passing into the hands of corporations, and with their extensive means and the armies of men employed by them the forests are disappearing more rapidly than ever. It is possible that the present generation of lumbermen may be the last in the valley of the St. Croix, and that before another fifty years have passed the last of the number may have shouldered his axe or peavy and passed "over the divide."

THE LOG JAMS OF THE ST. CROIX.

The St. Croix river in its passage through the Dalles is compressed into a comparatively narrow channel, by which means the logs driven down the stream are crowded closely together, so closely as to sometimes become firmly wedged or jammed together. The jam generally occurs at a point known as Angle Rock, a huge promontory of massive trap rock extending into the middle of the channel from the Minnesota side, and opposite to the St. Croix landing. The river makes a bend around this rock nearly at a right angle with the channel above. At this point jams are, under certain conditions, almost inevitable. Sometimes they are of small dimensions and are easily broken. Sometimes the logs gather in such quantity and become so tightly wedged that it is a labor of weeks to break them.