Mode of Driving Timber down the Streams. 103 



accumulations of snow in the woods turn many of these insig- 

 nificant brooks into torrents, which are further swollen by 

 means of dams so constructed as to be rapidly opened out 

 when the lumber tumbled into the bed of the watercourse is 

 borne down in a furious rush to the river of which it is an 

 influent. This, called "stream driving," is the finale of the 

 winter's work, the financial success of which is dependent 

 altogether on the continuance and extent of the thaws. 

 Sometimes when the latter are gradual, more than half of the 

 timber is left in the forest until the following year, and of 

 course the market is influenced accordingly. I do not know 

 a more exciting scene of its kind than to stand and watch a 

 party of these stalwart woodmen, with their long iron-shod 

 poles, jumping from log to log with amazing agility, now 

 balanced on the readily yielding timber, now, with acrobatic 

 dexterity, leaping from one log to another among the noise and 

 clamour of exulting voices, and the fouling and jamming of 

 one log on the other as they crash along the devious windings 

 of the surging torrent. 



We had not long settled down into the ways of our good 

 friends in the camp before a hard frost set in at night, and ena- 

 bled us to run with ease on snow shoes. One afternoon after a 

 toilsome day's wandering over the forest in quest of whatever 

 natural objects might turn up, I returned to the4iut to find my 

 moose-slaying friend expatiating to the numerous inmates on 

 his hunting exploits in the district some years before, and how, 

 between axe and gun, he and several companions slew no less 

 than twenty elks in the course of a few weeks. I had 

 scarcely finished expostulating with him on the cruelty and 

 illegality of destroying the hinds then, when they are heavy 

 with calf, when suddenly the little wicket opened, and there 

 crawled into the hut two stalwart settlers, accompanied by 

 several dogs. "Halloo!" exclaimed my companion, "here 

 come the moose wardens ! " " Why," addressing one of them, 

 " you, surely, of all men, are not bound on moose hunting 



