38 A RAFT PILOT'S LOG 



men less work in bucking the oars. Such pilots could 

 always get rafts to run and men to run them. 



On lumber rafts, the crews usually had a board 

 shanty where the cooking was done, and little low dog 

 houses, improvised to sleep in. On long trips, such as 

 from Stillwater or Read's Landing, Minnesota, to Saint 

 Louis, they would fix up comfortable bunks, as they 

 had all kinds of lumber to use and a good floor to start 

 on. On log rafts they usually depended on flimsy tents 

 provided by the pilot, and the conveniences of life were 

 very meager, but the work was healthful, and the life, 

 and excitement, in the open pure air, gave them good 

 appetites and excellent digestion. They usually had 

 plenty of good plain food, and strong coffee. They 

 seldom had any ice, in the hottest weather, or any milk. 

 Sometimes, delayed on a long hard trip, when the 

 pilot's money or credit gave out, these men were just 

 as resourceful as any of General Sherman's soldiers, on 

 their March to the Sea. 



The country above Dubuque was very sparsely set- 

 tled, and the little towns far apart, but it is pleasant to 

 reflect that there is no record of a raftman dying of 

 hunger. An angry farmer, who missed a fat two-year- 

 old heifer one morning after a raft had passed down, 

 overtook the raft by a long, hard row in a heavy skifif. 

 The dressed carcass lay on the logs near the center of 

 the raft, covered with a piece of white canvas. The crew 

 was divided and crouched at the corners of the raft, 

 while the old French pilot sat alone with his head 

 down, when the farmer appeared and questioned him. 

 Old George said, "My friend, I'm glad to see you. I'm 

 in big trouble. My crew^ are all afraid of me." "How 

 so?" "You see," he replied, "that white ting down 



