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Updated: June 24, 2025
Heavily loaded they managed to regain the others keeping along the edge of the torrent. Alice Thayor presented a strange appearance; a pair of lumberjack's trousers, a mackinaw shirt, rough woollen socks, a pair of brogans and one of the teamster's overcoats, its collar turned up against her dishevelled hair, had transformed her into a vagabond.
It hit him full in the face, and the sharp protuberances on the knot drew points of blood. A blow from a lumberjack's fist, at this juncture, knocked Joe Shafto flat on her back. She was up with a bound. "Henerey! Henere-e-e-e-e!" There was a wild note in her voice, a note of alarm and command. "Henere-e-e-e-e-e!" They heard Henry sliding down a tree heard his paws raking the bark as he slid.
If you see that these jacks mean to attack us, each of you grab a club and let them have it on their heads. See! Joe is holding her club behind her." The forest woman was waiting grimly for an opportunity to crack a lumberjack's head. That opportunity came sooner than she expected.
The Clown had thrown his antagonist fairly, the lumberjack's shoulders striking the rough floor with a whack that made things jingle. The next moment the two had treated one another at the bar, and with a mutual, though maudlin appreciation of each other had gone back to their respective chairs among the line tilted against the wall.
"I'll fodder white folk, and I'll sling a bone to a bear or a bull pup, but no timber houn' of a lumberjack's goin' to git 'chuck' from the paws of Joe Shafto, and that's the end of the argefyin'," she declared, challenging the girls with a threatening glare through her big horn-rimmed spectacles.
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