A Greenhorn in a Logging Camp. 
Seeing an advertisement in a daily paper for 
woodsmen, and having used all kinds of edge 
tools, I thought I might be the right man in 
the right place, so applied for a job. I got it. 
My outfit consisted of the clothing suitable for 
the arctic regions, a box of medical supplies, 
rifles for large and small game, and a shotgun 
with a stock of ammunition, and a good supply 
of fishing tackle. I now felt ready to tackle any 
kind of game which I had heard was abundant. 
I arrived at Hastings Junction at 8:30 P. M. 
and boarded the company’s log train, consisting 
of a locomotive and ten flat cars. The line runs 
back in the woods for twenty-nine miles, and is 
extended each year as the timber is cut. I ar¬ 
rived at the company’s central camp at 9:30 p. m. 
and was ushered into supper with twenty other 
arrivals. 
Next morning I was sent to Camp 12, ten 
miles away, and as the only method of transport¬ 
ing luggage was on one’s back, I wished my 
outfit not quite so extensive. However, after a 
hearty breakfast I took my load on my back 
and set out. I finally reached camp and met 
the boss who took me to the sleeping shack 
and showed me my bunk. The foreman asked 
me if I could file saws, and as this was one of 
the things I could do, I got a job filing saws. 
As a saw filer I proved a success, putting the 
saws in good order in about half the time of 
my predecessor. The foreman (Josh) seemed 
pleased at getting the work done so quickly, and 
told me my time was my own after the saws 
were in order. Being fond of hunting and fish¬ 
ing, I took my rifle and fishing tackle and ex¬ 
plored the country in my spare time. 
In Cloud River, which flows close to the camp, 
and is the outlet of a lake of the same name, I 
saw numbers of fish jumping. I got my rod and 
line ready, and with a piece of meat for bait— 
at Josh’s suggestion—I baited up, and casting, 
immediately a trout seized the bait and I hauled 
him out on the bank, cast in again and the same 
thing was repeated. I kept up this exciting 
sport for about two and a half hours until al¬ 
most sunset, and found on gathering my fish 
together I had eighty-six trout, running from 
one-half to two and one-half pounds in weight. 
At this time I knew nothing of fly-casting, else 
I might have secured them in a more sports¬ 
manlike manner. The trout were a heavy load 
to carry over rough granite and windfalls. As 
I passed the sleeping shack on my way to the 
cook house, one of the crew spied me and 
passed the word to the others. They surrounded 
me, spread the fish on the ground to count and 
examine, and all joined in a chorus of questions 
as to where and how I caught them. They 
agreed that the following Sunday they would 
all go "a-fishin’.” We had trout for breakfast 
the next morning, and what a treat after a 
steady diet of beans, molasses, tea and dried 
beef! 
A few days later a new arrival came to camp 
and was put in the bunk with me, I being the 
only man sleeping alone. I introduced myself 
and Ike and I soon started up a conversation 
that to us was intensely interesting. He had 
spent the previous winter in the same camp and 
was a thorough hunter and trapper. Ike asked 
me about my experience in moose hunting and 
I had to admit I was a greenhorn. He sug¬ 
gested that as I had a good rifle, and he was 
a good moose caller, we should have a try at 
the next full moon, which would be in a few 
days. He said there were plenty of moose 
around, and telling of different ones he had 
called and some he had still-hunted made me 
very eager to start out. I got out my rifle, 
cleaned and oiled it, looked at my cartridges 
and my hunting knife and found all in good 
order. Ike admired my equipment, but said it 
was good enough for an elephant. He reached 
under the bunk and pulled out a very long rusty 
looking gun and asked me what I thought of 
1 her.’ It was a .52 caliber Snider single shot 
rifle in very poor condition, but Ike assured me 
“she was all right.” I thought if “she” was, 
my .32 special was good for any game in these 
woods. 
While we were talking, the shack man called 
out, “Nine o’clock, turn in,” and Ike and I 
crawled into our bunk, and soon there was a 
chorus of snores in which I presently joined. 
The next day when Ike came in to supper, he 
brought with him a large piece of birch bark 
to make into a horn to call the moose with. 
After supper he made a small fire on the ground 
and held the bark over it for a few seconds, 
when it curled inside out. He formed it into 
a megaphone and tied it with roots. He gave 
several grunts through it and pronounced it all 
right, and we hung it up in the shack for use 
the following night. As Ike was working some 
distance away from camp, he gave me instruc¬ 
tions as to provisions, etc., telling me to get 
grub enough for three meals and stow it in a 
gunny sack, one of our double blankets, a good 
supply of matches, and some extra outside cloth¬ 
ing. We arranged to start at 3 p. m., as we 
had about five miles to walk and should be at 
the calling rock by 5 o’clock. By 1:30 I had 
everything ready and it seemed as though 3 
o’clock would never come. 
All things come to him who waits, however, 
and promptly at 3 Ike arrived, got his old rifle 
and six cartridges and slung the grub bag on 
his back. I took my rifle, the bark horn and 
blanket, and we started down the tote road. We 
followed this for three miles till we came to 
Frog Stream, where we took the river drivers’ 
trail two miles and came to a large clearing—- 
burnt land on one side of the stream and a 
meadow and bog on the other-—which was bor¬ 
dered by a hard wood ridge. In about the cen¬ 
ter of this meadow there was a large granite 
rock, one side of which formed a cave large 
enough for two or three men to get into. Ike 
said it was here that we would call if the wind 
went down in time. As it was blowing quite a 
fresh breeze, we put our packs in the cave, ate 
lunch and waited till sunset, hoping the wind 
would die down, but it did not. As it would 
be useless to call, we sat there talking in low 
tones, as ike said there might be a moose with¬ 
in 300 yards of us on the hard wood ridge. We 
decided to divide the night, Ike taking a nap 
till 12, then I could turn in till 5 a. m. I pulled 
on my heavy sweater and Ike rolled himself up 
in the blanket, but before he went to sleep he 
cautioned me not to smoke. This was a hard¬ 
ship, for I thought a smoke would help me to 
keep awake. 
Ike was soon asleep and I felt very much 
alone in the world. I did not mind the first 
hour or so, as the wind kept up and made a 
noise through the trees, but about 10:30 the 
wind died out, and it grew very cold. I moved 
over close to Ike and felt warmer; in fact, I 
was almost asleep when a peculiar sound startled 
me. I felt a little shaky and reached for my 
rifle which I laid across my knees. I felt a 
thumping in my breast, a choking sensation, with 
an occasional chill. I had just about recovered 
from the first shock when I heard the same 
noise again, but nearer. I made up my mind 
to ayvaken Ike, as I thought it might be a moose, 
so I gave his arm a hard tug, which roused him, 
and he bent over and whispered to ask what 
was up. I tried to whisper. My words came 
in lumps and jumps, but he got my meaning 
as I pointed with a rather shaky hand in the 
direction of the sounds. Ike threw off the 
blanket, hauled on his sweater, and we sat there 
speechless for perhaps ten minutes, when I heard 
the same sounds. Ike, looking very disgusted, 
told me to go to sleep, as it was only two porcu¬ 
pines calling to each other. It took only a few 
minutes to get off to sleep, and I knew noth¬ 
ing until I felt Ike shaking me, and heard him 
say it was a great morning to call, being clear, 
frosty and calm. 
We had a bite to eat, and then Ike clambered 
up the rock and gave a call. It was unlike any 
sound I had ever heard. After he had waited 
about fifteen minutes he gave another call, and 
it was not many seconds before I heard a noise 
from the lower end of the hard wood ridge, 
and Ike came down and said he had an answer. 
He posted me at one end of the rock and told 
me not to make a sound, while he took up his 
position at the - other end. We were out of 
sight of each other. Ike was looking over the 
burnt land, and I had a view of the meadow. 
Presently I heard a noise of breaking tree limbs 
and now and then a knocking sound. Being 
curious I crept around to Ike who gave me a 
terrible look, and whispered that the moose 
might come out at any moment, and that if I 
wanted a shot I must keep quiet, so I crept back 
as quietly as possible. 
I now began to experience a most peculiar 
feeling. I shook, I choked; everything I looked 
at seemed to be an animal. My rifle was lean¬ 
ing against the rock within arm’s length of me 
and I was straining my eyes in the direction of 
the approaching sound when suddenly it stopped. 
1 do not know how long I waited there with 
chattering teeth, when I heard a sort of grunt 
