THE LUMBER TRADE OF GREEN BAY. 
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same men, with hundreds of teams, are at work in the woods, 
getting out logs, and finally, in the spring, when the streams 
open, running the logs down to the mills. 
A logging camp in the winter is an exhilarating scene. The 
great trees falling, here and there, with a thundering sound ; 
the fine, strong teams moving off to the river with their loads, 
and hurrying back with empty sleighs ; the songs and shouts 
of the jolly, red-shirted lumbermen ; and the majestic forest 
scenery, standing out so handsomely in the clear air of northern 
winter, make up a panorama that is worth going a day’s jour¬ 
ney to see. Finally the snow fades out before the spring sun. 
It goes first from the logging roads, because there it has been 
most worn ; and then the lumbermen make ready for the “ run¬ 
ning,” and wait impatiently for the breaking up of the stream, 
and the coming of the freshet. If they are a long way up the 
stream, this is a matter of great anxiety, for perhaps the rise 
will not be sufficient, and their logs will lie over until another 
year. One firm, on the Oconto, got logs as high up as ninety 
miles from the mouth. If the water is high, the logs come 
down by thousands upon thousands, rushing, clogging up, 
breaking away again, piling upon each other, and requiring the 
constant efforts of the drivers to keep them on the go. Some¬ 
times, wffien an obstruction occurs, a few logs form a (( jam,” 
and those coming after them with terrific force, are piled up in 
rude masses that one not familiar with it would think the whole 
enterprise hopelessly ended, for there seems no possibility of 
ever extricating the mass, perhaps of a thousand logs. But a 
single man, with an iron-shod handspike, goes upon the jam 
carefully, looking with a practiced eye here and there, until he 
discovers one log which is the key to the whole problem. Pry¬ 
ing cautiously, he loosens it, and then makes his way as quick 
as possible to the shore again. The confused mass begins to 
settle ; the head logs start; and then, all at once, down stream 
they go once more, with the old speed, like a herd of countless 
buffaloes stampeding along the prairie. The logs reach the 
