422 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
IJtjne I, igoi. 
Shi Mv^^^^H^^ §^nmt 
The Repentance of Peshtigo Sam* 
The day was drawing to a close and the shadows 
were deepemng in the forest, when the big stag bestirred 
himself and arose from his couch of sweet-smelling 
ferns. He stood for a moment sniffing the air and lis- 
tening intently for any indication of the presence of a 
lurking foe, and then stepped forth with lordly air on 
his way to the running water where, each day at the 
setting of the sun, he was wont to quench his thirst. A 
faintly traced runway led him, with many a turn, through 
the heart of a virgin forest where tall pines of mighty 
girth towered aloft on all sides, stretching away in 
unbroken ranks as far as the eye could reach, like the 
sculptured colunms of some vast temple. A great still- 
ness brooded over the forest, broken occasionally by 
a slight sound — the snapping of a twig or the faint rus- 
tling of a bush. At each sound, at each suspicious move- 
ment of some low hanging branch, the stag became a 
living statue, motionless as an image of bronze, ready at 
a moment's notice to seek safety in flight, if necessary, 
or else to give battle to the intruder should he prove 
to be one of his own kind trespassing on his domains. 
He reached the bank of the river unmolested, and 
stepping down to the water's edge lowered his antlered 
head and drank a deep draught of the cool water. Sud- 
denly he started and half turned as if to fiee. His quick 
ears had detected a faint, unfamiliar sound which seemed 
to be drawing nearer and nearer, and the next instant 
a canoe shot around a bend in the river just below him. 
Seated in the canoe were two wliite men, each plying a 
paddle with long, powerful strokes that sent the frail 
bark through the water at a rapid speed. An indefinable 
but none the less dreadful fear clutched the heart of the 
noble stag. He had never before seen a white man, but 
his instinct warned him that here was a new enemy, 
and one greatly to be feared. He hesitated a moment 
and then wheeled about and disappeared like a shadow 
in the depths of the forest, nor paused in his flight 
until he had put a safe distance between himself and this 
new terror. 
"Gosh almighty!" the man in the bow of the canoe 
exclaimed. "Did you see that buck. Bill?" 
"I sh'd say I did," the other replied. "He was a 
whopper, an' no mistake. That makes the tenth we've 
seen to-day, don't it?" 
"Yep. The tenth or eleventh, I forget which. They're 
thicker'n sheep." 
"We might '.s well land here fer the night," the man 
called Bill suggested. 
"Guess so," his companion asserted. "It's a likely 
lookin' place." 
With a skillful touch of the paddle that denoted long 
experience in the art, the canoe was headed for the shore, 
and as the keel grated on the pebbly bottom the man in 
front leaped out and drew the light bark after him on to 
the gently sloping bank. His companion followed him, 
and together they beached the canoe high and dry for the 
night. _ The simple camp outfit was then unloaded, and 
in an incredibly short time a fire was blazing merrily a 
short distance back from the river and the woodsmen 
prepared their evening meal. Their, hunger appeased, 
they filled their pipes and stretching themselves out 
beside the camp-fire, proceeded to enjoy the comfort of 
an after supper smoke and a quiet chat before turning 
in for the night. ^ 
The cruisers had traveled far on this trip in their search 
for a growth of pines of the proper requirements; they 
had tramped many miles, toiling over some rough port- 
age or carry, and had paddled many more in their 
frail birch bark canoe. In spite of all the hardships and 
dangers, however, it was a life full of charm and excite- 
ment — the life that suited them. 
' "They ain't no use goin' no futher, I guess," Long 
Tom remarked, stirring the fire with his foot, "This 
is the best lookin' timber we've struck yet by a long 
shot, an' they's plenty of it an' it's handy to the river." 
"Couldn't be handier ef 'twas made t' order," his friend 
replied. "Guess we'd better start back to-morrow an' 
report. We'll jest 'bout be in time fer the boys t' git 
things in shape fer the crew." 
"Tell y' what it is, Bill," Long Tom observed irrele- 
vantly, "I'd like t' git a shot at that buck afore we start 
back. He's the biggest ever." 
"What's the use!" Bill objected. "Ther's plenty more 
to be had fer the shootin' of 'em. It's a leetle early fer 
venison, anyhow." 
^ "Mebbe so," Long Tom admitted, half reluctantlj% 
"but he was a whopper an' no mistake." 
A brief silence followed, which was broken by Bill's 
voice. 
"Say, Tom," said he, "you promised t' tell me what 
you shook Green Bay so all of a sudden fer. I never 
could figger that out, nohow. Let's hev the yarn now." 
Long Tom pufTed silently at his pipe for some time 
before replying. 
"Same old story," he at length began. " 'Twas all 
long of a gal an' another feller. Y' wouldn't think t' look 
at me that a slip of a gal could git 'round me an' make 
a reg'lar durn fool o' m.e, would you, now?" he ques- 
tioned, sheepishly. 
"Seein' as one o' them same gals done the same t' me, 
I kin," Bill solemnly replied. "They're funny critters, 
gals is." 
"Waal," Long Tom continued, "'twas long o' one o' 
them that I shook Green Bay an' a good job. I was 
dead gone on a gal, an' was calculatin' t' hitch up an' 
travel double fer the rest o' mv davs. Seein' as Sal— her 
name was Sal— seein' as Sal was more'n half willin', I'd 
got my dander screwed up t' the pint o' puttin'' the 
queschin', when 'long comes another feller an' goes in 
fer t' cut me out. He warn't much of a feller, but he 
could git 'round the wimmin folks somehow, an' he 
sorter got 'found Sal. He warnt much fer size, jest a 
onery sort of a duck, but Sal seemed t' like him, an' the 
dern cuss know'd it. I allers thought he lied 'bout me 
but I couldn't prove it, an' when he give it out that be- 
an' Sal was goin' t' git married an' Sal didn't deny it T 
je,st naterly didn't wanter be 'round when the funeral 
come off, so I shook the hull bizness. That's all they 
is to it" 
"What was the feller's name?" asked Bill. 
"Haskins. Sara Haskins." 
_"Wha-at!" Bill exclaimed, sitting erect and staring at 
his companion in amazement. "Y' don't mean Peshtigo 
Sam? Waal I'll be derned! The onery cuss!" 
"Y' don't mean ^t' say you know Sam Haskins?" 
Long Tom demanded, equally surprised. 
"Know him! Wall, I jest guess I do. Why, he come 
near doin' fer a feller by the name o' Hogarth, a friend 
o' mine over in Peshtigo. Me an' Hogarth come near 
fightin' 'bout it. 'Twas all consarnin' a gal, too, her I 
spoke 'bout. We run Peshtigo Sam out o' camp. That 
was two years ago. Know him? Waal I jest guess." 
"Y' don't s&yl" Long Tom could find no other words 
in which to express his feelings. 
"Yes-sir-ee. An' I'll bet he warn't squar' in his dealin's 
with you," Bill emphatically asserted. "Ther aint a 
honest hair in Peshtigo Sam's head, b' gosh. Did he 
marry the gal?" 
"Course," Long Tom replied. "They was all ready 
fer the bizness when I cleared out." 
"It's too all fired bad," said Bill in sympathetic tones. 
"He was such a onery, sneakin' cuss. You mark what 
I say; he done some onderhand bizness consarnin' you 
an' the gal." 
They finished their pipes in silence, each busy with his 
own thoughts of the past and of the "gal" he had tried 
to win. But these thoughts faded into confusion ere 
long, and their weary eyelids drooped and their heads 
nodded on their breasts. They replenished the fire for 
the night, rolled themselves in their blankets and soon 
their deep, heavy breathing announced that the cruisers 
had forgotten- the cares of the day and rested from their 
labors. 
In the still watches of the night the big stag cautiously 
drew near and gazed, half in wonder, half in fear, at the 
flickering fire and the shadowy forms lying there within 
the dim circle of light. He could not understand it. He 
AND NOT A GOOD DAY FOR COONS. 
Photo by W. P. Davison. 
was all new to him, and he gave vent to his feelings of 
perplexity in a loud snort. At that sound one of the 
figures stirred uneasily and muttered in his sleep, and 
the stag, fearing he knew not what, vanished silently 
into the black darkness of the forest. Early the next 
morning Long Tom discovered the stag's footprints in 
the soft, mossy soil, and swore a big oath that before the 
winter snows had come and gone that stag should be his 
venison. 
Having marked the spot where they had camped 
with blazes on the trees, the cruisers bundled their 
traps into the canoe, headed the prow down stream 
and with the aid of current and paddle were borne 
swiftly away on their journey back to the settlement. 
The logging camp was completed; the main road, with 
its numerous branches extending to different portions of 
the "logging swamp," had been cut and well graded and 
leveled; everything was in readiness, and there was noth- 
ing to do but await the arrival of the crew with the teams 
and provisions for the winter camp. Scarcely a trace re- 
mained of the runway that led to the big stag's drinking 
place. In its stead was the main logging road with all its 
branching arteries, one of which led to a small clearing 
where the newly finished log house and the adjoining 
stables had been erected. 
All this was the result of that visit of the two cruisers 
not long before. They had conducted the pioneer crew, 
the vanguard of the real army of the destroyers of the 
forest, to this spot, and at their arrival the ringing blows 
of the axe had resounded for the first time through this 
wilderness, and the work of destruction had had its 
beginning. When the big stag beheld these unwonted 
sights he gathered his herd about him and led them, 
trembling and afraid, far from the scenes of danger, but 
not beorfe three of their number had yielded up their 
lievs to their new enemies. 
It had been snowing all night and all the morning, 
and still the light, swirling flakes fell unceasinglv; the 
ground was covered with an ever thickening blanket of 
white, and the branches of the fir trees drooped heavily, 
weighted down with the unaccustomed load. Winter 
had arrived_ in all his panoply of state. The crew had 
finished their mid-day meal and were lounging in their 
bunks idly smoking, or engaged in some light occupation 
of mending or what not. There existed a certain simi- 
larity in the appearance of these men — the similarity that 
is noticeable in a regiment of well drilled soldiers who 
have campaigned together for many seasons. There was 
Bill White, and "Long Tom" Bartlett, and Seth Jenkins, 
the captain of the crew, and two or three others, none 
of whom looked up to six fggt two, and last, but by no 
rrieans least, "Slim Jim," the ever busy French Cana- 
dian cook, a man of medium height but of mighty girth, 
the most important man in the camp — three times a day. 
These men had performed the labor of Titans in clearing 
the way and making all the necessary preparations for 
the great work soon to begin, 
"The, teams ought t' be comin' along putty soon." 
Captain Jenkins remarked to no one in particular. 
"They've had sleighin' fer a week now an' they're just 
about due." 
"How many men y' got this trip?" Long Tom in- 
quired. 
"Twenty-four all told," the captain replied. He stepped 
to the door, and opening it, looked out upon the snow 
bound forest. 
"It beats all how it keeps on a-snowin'," he observed, 
half to himself, as he turned back into the room. 
"Say, Cap'n," one of the men called out, "jest leave 
the door open, will yuh? It's hoter'n blue blazes in 
here." 
As none of the others objected. Captain Jenkins com- 
plied with the request. He had scarcely taken his seat 
ori the rude bench that served in lieu of chairs, when a 
faint, far distant cry came borne across the snow from 
the depths of the forest. In an instant the men all 
sprang to their feet and made a rush for the door. 
"The teams at last," cried Captain Jenkins in jubilant 
tones, as their loud chorus of, "ho-hee's" was answered 
by another distant shout. "Here, Slim Jim, git a move 
on an' git grub ready fer sixteen hungry men. They'll 
be hungrier than wolves. You'll have to rush things." 
"Certainly," Jim the cook answered. "I cannot cook 
ze grub in one minute, but she be ready dem quick. Mon 
Dieu," he grumbled to himself as he flew about among 
his pots and pans, "but it always is 'Slim -Jim get a 
move on,' as if anybody move fast like me." 
Presently the long train appeared toiling slowly and 
wearily along through the dtep snow; the sleds laden 
with provisions and tools for the camp, and fodder for 
the cattle, and the lumbermen trudging along beside the 
sleds, or straggling behind in parties of twos and threes. 
Loud greetings were exchanged as they drew near 
enough to the camp for familiar faces to be recognized. 
Long Tom and Bill White stood side by side, shotiting 
out the names of the men they knew as they appeared 
in sight. Among the very last of the new comers was a 
man somewhat undersized in comparison with the rest. 
Apparently he was unknown to any of the pioneer crew, - 
for he exchanged greetings with none of them, but as 
he approached nearer Long Tom suddenly grasped Bill's 
arm. 
"I'll be cussed ef thar aint Sam Haskins," he ex- 
claimed in suppressed tones. 
"Peshtigo Sam, fer a dollar," Bill ejaculated in the 
same breath. 
The two men stared at one another with looks that 
bespoke many varying emotions, and then turned their 
gaze on this last straggler as he slowly advanced towa:-d 
them. 
"Better not do nuthin' rash, Tom." said Bill in an 
undertone. "Let's see what his game is fust." 
"All right. I won't." Long Tom growled. "I'd like I' 
smash his face, though." 
"Hello, Peshtigo," Bill called out, as the man sud- 
denly stopped with an exclamation of surprise at sight 
of them. "Whar'd y' come from, an' what brung you up 
here?" 
Long Tom said not a word. Peshtigo Sam was 
clearly disconcerted, but he made the best of an awk- 
wa-d situation, and putting on a bold face stepped for- 
ward with outstretched hand. 
"Why, hello, Bill," he cried with a would-be expres- 
sion of pleased recognition on his countenance. "I didn't 
know you and Long Tom was here." 
"I reck'n not," said Bill with a grim smile, ignoring 
the proffered hand. "Guess you'd a tried some other 
loggin' swamp ef y' had." . 
"Waal, I guess not," Peshtigo Sam retorted with a 
blustering air. "You don't s'pose I'm 'fraid o' you, do 
yuh?" 
"The last time I seen you it looked some like it," Bill 
drawled. 
"O, waal. there was two of you then," replied Peshtigo 
Sam, "You an' Hogarth, an' you wouldn't listen t' nn 
reason. There want nuthin' agin me but circumstantial 
evidence, as the lawyers sav." 
"I don't give a cuss what y' call it," Bill rejoined, 
"but you acted like a dern sneak, an' I want t' tell you 
right here that yer room's better'n yer company, as the 
lawyers also sez." 
"I s'pose Long Tom's mad cause' I cut him out with 
the gal he wanted," said the other spitefully. 
Long Tom. flushed with anger, 
^ "Drop that." he commanded in menacing tones, "or 
I'll break yuh in two." And t-hen on second thought 
he inquired: "I want t' know ef you married her, 
though." 
"Course I did," Peshtigo Sam declared boastfully, "an 
all I've got t' say is, it's small bizness gittin' riled cause 
Sal liked me best." 
"That's all I want t' know jest now,"-. Long Tom inter- 
rupted, "From what Bill tells me y' seem t' have a likin' 
fer wimin, but ef you mention that gal's name agin FU 
break yer infernal head fer yuh." 
Captain Jenkins, happening to be standing near by 
just then, overheard Long Tom's threat. 
"Here, what's the rumpus," he inquired, joining the 
"Here, what's the rumpus?" he inquired, joining the 
group "of angry men. "None o' your scrappin' here in 
camp, y' know. You kin save all that till spring, when 
there aint nuthin' else doin'. Sam, you better be gittin' 
your grub or 3rou'll git left, an' Tom, you an' Bill lend 
a hand at the sleds there. There's plenty t' do without 
jawin'." 
Peshtigo Sam was only too glad to escape from his 
disagreeable position, and the other two men turned 
their attention to the unloading of the sleds. The Cap- 
tain's word was law in camp, and there was not mitch 
danger of a recurrence of the stormy scene. 
And now all was bustle and confusion. The oxen were 
unyoked and led away to the stables; the sleds were 
quickly unloaded, and the surrounding forest echoed 
with the sound of loud laughter and coarse jokes, while 
through it £tl|. like an ac^ompaninlent to a song, a steady 
