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Updated: May 22, 2025
They were confirmed in their surmise by the fact, known from actual observation, that Bartley had not spoken a word to any other young lady since Marcia went away. "Look here, my friend," said the philosopher from, the logging-camp, when he came in for his paper on the Tuesday afternoon following, "seems to me from what I hear tell around here, you're tryin' to kill yourself on this newspaper.
At a logging-camp well up on the slope of the mountains just after he had forded the upper waters of Packard's Creek, he breakfasted on warmed-over coffee and greasy hot cakes. He opened his eyes interestedly as he watched a gang of timberjacks cutting into a forest of his pines. "Old man Packard's crowd?" he asked the camp cook. "Sure thing," was the cook's careless answer.
In 1861, when my father had become superintendent of a Nevada County gold mine, he left me to run the post-office, cut the timothy hay, and manage a logging-camp. It was wartime and I had a longing to enlist. One day I received a letter from him, and as I tore it open a startling sentence caught my eye, "Your commission will come by the next steamer." I caught my breath and south particulars.
Jacques, whom he had known in the logging-camp as Blood River Jack, treated him with open friendliness, and as he became able to move about the camp, taught him much of the lore of the forest, of the building of nets and traps, the smoke-tanning of buckskin, and the taking and drying of salmon.
She and her husband were at a logging-camp in the northern woods of Michigan.
It had been Donald McKaye's intention to go up to the logging-camp on the first log-train leaving for the woods at seven o'clock on Monday morning, but the news of Dirty Dan's plight caused him to change his plans. Strangely enough, his interview with his father, instead of causing him the keenest mental distress, had been productive of a peculiar sense of peace.
"Moira, you're a lucky girl," he declared. "I thought this morning you were going back to a kitchen in a logging-camp. It almost broke my heart to think of fate's swindling you like that." He put his arm around her and gave her a brotherly hug. "It's autumn in the woods, Moira, and all the underbrush is golden." She smiled, though it was winter in her heart.
"Come up to kiss me good luck?" he asked, finding her lips. "Yes, and to tell you how splendid you are, going right to work this way," she answered fondly. "Oh, I don't believe in losing time; and I've got to strike while the iron's hot, if I'm going to write out that logging-camp business. I'll take it over to that Events man, and hit him with it, while it's fresh in his mind."
Expect to be hard and not quite so weary by next week-end, and will call over for Sunday dinner. Sincerely, DONALD McKAYE He spent Sunday at The Dreamerie, and at four o'clock Sunday afternoon boarded the up train and returned to the logging-camp. Mrs.
"I'll never speak to you again so long as I live," she burst out passionately. He advanced a step and stood gazing down upon her. Her angry glance met his unflinchingly; and presently for him the light went out of the world. "Very well," he murmured. "Good-bye." And with bowed head he turned and made off through the green timber toward his own logging-camp five miles distant.
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