114 THE LOG OF A TIMBER CRUISER 
‘‘No,’’ insisted the axeman, ‘‘I’m going out with 
the others. I know you’ve all got me sized up for a 
joke, and I’m sick and tired of it! Not that you 
haven’t had reason for thinking as you do. I see 
that now: I didn’t start right. Things have al- 
ways come pretty easy forme. My father made his 
own way, and in consequence I’ve always had every- 
thing I needed handed to me. I’ve never been up 
against the real thing. I’ve never had a chance to 
get on to myself. I’ve never known what the neces- 
sity for real, hard work was. In all my camping 
trips before, I’ve had men with me to do the actual 
labour. They kidded me along, I guess, because I— 
or my father, rather—was paying for it; and all the 
time I thought I was getting experience and becom- 
ing a woodsman, when I hadn’t even begun to learn. 
“‘T’ve made a fool of myself on this trip, I sup- 
pose. It’s taken me a good while to get on to it, but 
I can see now how you fellows look at it. You think 
I’m no earthly good! But I’m no quitter,’’ he fin- 
ished, half crying with angry resolution, ‘‘and before 
the season’s over I’m going to prove it!’’ 
‘‘That’s the talk, Horace, old top, fly to it!’ cried 
Frazer with enthusiasm. ‘‘If you keep that spirit 
you'll find everybody trying to help you, instead of 
joshing you all the time.”’ 
‘‘And I thought he was yellow clean through,’’ 
said Frazer, in relating the incident. ‘‘But I be- 
lieve he’s really in earnest! If he shows any signs 
