THE EARLY LOGGER IN THE 



SIERRAS 



By ALEXANDER W. DODGE, Deputy State Forester of California 



D 



URING the winter months, 

 when, in Maine, the lumber- 

 jack is straining his peavy and 

 cross-hauling the logs onto his 

 bobsleds, his brother, the western logger, 

 is not so fortunate. The latter wall 

 doubtless be found, together with many 

 others like him, either ornamenting the 

 entrance to some city employment 

 agency discussing at length and to no 

 purpose the great issues of the day or 

 "goin' south" on the first "safe catch" 

 that leaves the railroad yards. The 

 man of the logging camps in the 

 California Sierras is, perhaps of neces- 

 city, a transient. He is often a traveler 

 whose destination is anywhere and no- 

 where in particular; whose ticket is apt 



to be both invalid and unlimited; at 

 whose station no one awaits him unless 

 it be a "cop" ; whose meals are delicious, 

 irregular and hard to get; and whose 

 baggage consists of no more than one 

 man can carry. The majority of these 

 men who follow logging operations 

 would gladly remain in the woods 

 permanently, since every day adds, on 

 an average, two dollars to each indi- 

 vidual "stake." 



However, not long after the begin- 

 ning of November the first snow lightly 

 covers the forest and the mornings are 

 likely to be sullen and grey. The tent 

 flies strain slightly under the gentle 

 weight of the powdery herald of winter 

 and immediately there is talk of closing 



A LOGGING TRAIN. 



LOGGING THROUGHOUT THE SUMMER MUST BEAR ITS SHARE OF THE EXPENSE OF PREPARATORY WORK IN THE SPRING. 



