224 IN THE LUMBER WOODS 



River, in New Brunswick, above the Grand Falls. Here the river 

 plunges over a precipice of eighty-five feet in height. The water 

 above became backed up by the ' jam ' for several miles. When 

 the river fell the logs were left arched over the summit of the falls, 

 wedged between the steep rocky heights which formed the river 

 banks. Here they remained for a whole season. During the 

 ensuing spring, when the river rose to an unprecedented height, 

 they were suddenly started and carried away with an appalling 

 crash ; some huge logs were split entirely in halves. JBelow the 

 falls the waves bound and wallow through a steep gorge for half a 

 mile with a great swelling noise, and the passage of the timber 

 through this rock canyon was most impressive. The sound of 

 the huge logs striking the rock walls resembled the bombardment 

 of a battery of artillery and much good timber was utterly ruined 

 by being bruised and smashed against the sides of the canyon, 

 as the logs rushed past and were borne along by the resistless fury 

 of the current. It was a striking spectacle to see the surging mass 

 careering on the tumbling billows, and vaulting over the frightful 

 brink of the cataract. 



It is easy, therefore, to understand that driving logs is an 

 exciting as well as an arduous and dangerous occupation. An 

 expert driver commands high wages, as well he might. He must 

 be able to navigate a log as if it were a canoe. He must be indif- 

 ferent to cold or wet. He must have the strength of an athlete. 

 He must understand the many uses of the ' pe-vee', that remark- 

 able lumberman's lever a combination of a spike and cant-hook 

 attached to an oak handle some seven feet long, by the aid of which 

 miracles are worked. He must be prepared to stand up to his neck 

 in ice-cold water with his shoulder to a log weighing half a ton. 

 He must be ready to sleep where night finds him in his saturated 

 clothing. He must regard the most swollen and impetuous mountain 

 torrents as his playthings, laugh at them at the height of their 

 fury, take the danger out of them and subdue them to serve his 

 own ends. 



A sawmill affords the spectator a lively scene of human activity. 

 The sets of ' gang ' saws keep ripping up the lumber with a shrill 

 clangour ; the circular saws buzz like millions of swarming bees. 

 On one side of the mill-pond logs are being hauled up an enclosed 

 plane by water power ; on the other they pass out as boards, planks 

 and sawed timber, and are formed into rafts for loading the vessels. 

 The long edgings of the boards as fast as cut off are thrust down 

 a hopper, where they are ground up beneath the mill that they 

 may be out of the way and done with. Otherwise they would 

 accumulate in vast piles by the side of the building, increasing the 



