192 THE LOG OF A TIMBER CRUISER 



day gift. He wanted to go into Silver with us and 

 see the town, an ambition which, I'm glad to say, 

 was subsequently realised. 



That evening we sat around the camp fire for the 

 last time. Mostly we sang and talked as usual, but 

 now and again a sudden silence would fall upon us 

 all, or a look of wistful gravity drop for a moment 

 like a veil over the features of one or another of 

 the men. One can not leave six months of his life 

 full, vivid months like these without a poignant 

 twinge of regret. The hardships we had undergone, 

 the companions with whom we had lived and worked 

 for half a year and whom we had learned to care for 

 and to trust, could not lightly be put behind us. 



We would soon be scattered, most of us never to 

 meet again. The age-old ache of sadness at the 

 death of the familiar, at the ruthless approach of 

 change, the wrench of readjustment in leaving the 

 accustomed thing and making shift to face the un- 

 known future gave us many a sober thought. Be- 

 neath the excitement of the impending release was 

 a vague desire for continued captivity. We weakly 

 longed at times to keep on living as we had grown 

 used to living, enveloped by the web of accustomed 

 circumstances which we had at once yielded to and 

 conquered. 



In one of these pauses Frazer began to talk. 



"I want to tell you fellows, " he said simply, " be- 

 fore we part, how much I appreciate personally your 

 attitude during the past season. I've worked on re- 



