As the frosts began to increase, and November clouds hung gray and heavy, tote teams, with their winter supplies for the camps in the big woods, would frequently stop at Mr. Thompson’s for the night. With one of these outfits2 there was a crew of twenty men with their cook, bound for the upper waters of the Wisconsin river to get out a special contract of “pumpkin pine,” a good sized tract3 of these forest giants having been located during the previous summer. This variety of pine was very white, exceedingly soft, and grainless, and not infrequently would yield three cuts of logs of sixteen feet each in length, entirely4 free from knots. These logs would saw into planks5 sixteen feet long, with a width of from three to six feet. Of course such timber was very valuable, even in those days of timber prodigality6.
The Allen boys heard that the crew boss was young
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Medford, whom they had met in Necedah. He was a clean, energetic young fellow, just out of college, and, destined7 to take his father’s place in the great lumbering9 operations of the state, was winning his way up in practical service. But this morning, while his greeting was pleasant, young Medford’s face showed a considerable anxiety to the boys. Pete Lateur, the cook, while wholly dependable once within the big woods, had broken faith with the boss, and had smuggled11 a flask12 of whiskey in with his dunnage. During this, their first night’s stop, the liquor had provoked a brawl13 in which the cook emerged with a broken arm. After the rude surgery that he was able to give, Mr. Thompson would take him back to the town for a month’s lay up. But there was no one else among the crew who could take his place, and no time to send a team back to hunt a cook in town.
“Rob,” said Ed, “you’re always bragging14 about your cooking, why don’t you take the job?”
“What’s that?” exclaimed Medford, overhearing what had been spoken in jest, “Can you cook, Rob?”
“He certainly can, Mr. Medford,” replied Ed, not waiting for Rob to reply, “He can beat Mother baking beans, and as for bread—”
“Stop your foolishness, Ed,” broke in Rob, blushing red.
“But see here, boys, I must have a cook, and if you will take the place, Rob, I will give you forty-five dollars a month for four months, and your wages will begin today.”
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Rob gasped15 at the thought of so much money. “I’ll see father” he replied.
Mrs. Allen was averse16 to allowing her boy to spend the winter among such rough men as the woods crews were known to be, but Mr. Allen said it would “toughen the fiber17 of the lad” and gave his consent.
Alas18, how many parents mistakenly think that association with evil, and even evil experiences are a necessary part of the education of youth. Nothing can be further from the truth. Instead of a benefit, such association can but result in harm. If, in after life, the youth should come into clean ways, the deep scars of evil will remain, and he will carry with him to the grave that which he would fain forget.
For the first fifty miles the crew were able to get their meals at least twice a day at rough wayside taverns19, themselves but little better than camps, but which afforded shelter and an abundance of food, such as it was. Then the trail led up into the unbroken wilderness20 of forest, where camps must needs be made at night, and there Rob’s winter work began.
There was something solemn and majestic21 about the big woods. There was little undergrowth, and the ground was covered deep with the rich, brown carpet of needles. The tall trunks of the great pines rose straight to the dark canopy22 above, like the pillars of some vast cathedral. The very silence was suggestive of worship—the low moaning of the high-up tops came to the ears as a soft, opening, minor23 strain from some grand organ.
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A dead, dry pine was felled, logs sawed from it and split, a fire built, and soon a bed of glowing coals was ready for the great pans of frying salt pork. Two crotched sticks were driven into the ground a few feet apart, and a pole laid across them, upon which the big coffee kettle was swung, and under it a good fire was soon going. Then biscuit dough24 was mixed—not with milk, but with clear, cold water from the river—and placed in the baker25. This arrangement was something like a three-leaved book made of tin, with folding legs for the upper and lower leaves. When opened before the bed of glowing coals—the bread being placed upon the middle leaf—it was a no mean substitute for an oven.
Tin plates and cups, iron knives and forks and spoons, were distributed; a jug26 of molasses and a bowl of brown sugar were placed handy, and the cry of “Chuck’s ready!” was given. Not very appetizing!—perhaps not to you, my reader, but with these hardy27 men, living out of doors, at strenuous28 labor29, bread and meat and strong coffee, with plenty of fats and sweets to fortify30 against the bitter cold, were eagerly consumed, especially when on the march. Later, when in permanent camp, a greater variety of food would be prepared.
Wearied though he was with the long day’s tramp, and with his efforts to satisfy the ravenous31 appetites of the score of men, Rob could not roll up in his blanket before the fire with the rest, as they finished their meal. In a little hollow scooped32 out near the log fire,
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were to be placed a half bushel of Irish potatoes, with a jab of his knife through the skin of each one to let out the steam. Over them the hot ashes were raked and packed down tight, then a few coals, and here they would bake slowly through the night, to be eaten in their mealy whiteness, cold, with salt, at the hasty noon meal the next day. The coffee kettle was replaced by another containing great chunks33 of corned beef, and from the baker came several batches35 of delicately browned biscuit to be packed away in a box for the morrow. There would be no time allowed at the noon rest for more than the preparing of the hot coffee.
It seemed to the lad that he had no more than closed his eyes, as he finally rolled himself into his blanket—his boots under his head for pillow—than he found himself sitting up, panting for breath, as though exhausted36 by running, and trembling all over. Clearly he had been frightened in his sleep; but by what? The horses, securely tied near by, were snorting and frantically37 trying to break away. The men, here and there, were rising upon elbows. Then, from the tall pine, seemingly right over their heads, came the scream as of a woman in such agony, despair, and heart-breaking entreaty38, that it seemed to Rob nothing in all the world could express more hopeless misery39. With a “Sh-h, keep quiet, boys,” Mr. Medford grasped his winchester and slipped around to quiet the horses, peering up into the thick branches as he went. Again
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that hideous40 cry—and Mr. Medford fired at the place from which the sound seemed to come.
“What is it?” whispered Rob to teamster Jackson, next him.
“A panther. There is no danger. Lie still.”
There was the noise of something bounding from limb to limb, high up in the pines, then all was still.
Exhausted, though he was, with the day’s march and labor, Rob was so thoroughly41 awakened42, that long after the quieted teams were again munching43 their corn, and the men were snoring, he lay, looking up at the one far-away star peeping through the boughs44, and starting up now and then as a soft pad-pad, or sniff-sniff, or low growl45, or bark, announced the presence of some other visiting woods-folk.
When at last they had reached the timber tract, a little knoll46 not far back from the river, was selected as the site for the permanent camps. These would be three in number—the main building where the men would sleep and eat, and one end of which would serve as kitchen; a second for the snug47 stable for the teams; and the third to be used as repair shop and storehouse.
All hands went to work at once putting up the houses. It was now the second week of November, and the fierce winter storms might be looked for at any time. The buildings were constructed of logs, about twelve inches in diameter, the cracks between chinked in with moss48 and clay. The roof was made of split logs, the split faces being laid together, breaking the
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joints. There was always plenty of chance for ventilation. After the roaring fires in the sheet iron stoves should finally succeed in drying them out, these rooms would be warm and comfortable.
For nearly a week, during the house-building, the men slept in tents which opened one end toward the big log fire. At this fire also, with its undiminished abundance of live coals, Rob baked and boiled and roasted. Now that there was to be no more traveling, the supplies were overhauled49, and great dishes of dried fruit—prunes, peaches, and apples, were stewed50. Later, Mr. Medford would have a team bring in fresh beef and pork. Pea soup, hot, and rich with pork fat, was an almost daily ration10, and then the great staple—baked beans! Lucky for Rob, indeed, was that accomplishment51 of which Ed had boasted for him. Surely even Boston itself never knew such appetizing dish as that Rob brought forth52 from the “bean hole.”
This is the way in which the delicacy53 was prepared: First, a hole two feet in depth, filled with live coals; the big pot with just the right amount of beans—(be careful to not put in too many, or you will duplicate Mark Twain’s experience with dried apples), molasses, a chunk34 of fat pork, salt and pepper to season—then water enough to swell54 the dish full when done (a few disastrous55 experiments will teach you the right amount), then the coals raked out and the pot, tightly covered, placed in the hole; ashes packed around and over; more live coals heaped above all—and everybody
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go away and forget it for twenty-four hours—if you can—and then!
Bread, potatoes, meat, coffee, some kind of dried fruit—and beans—such is the usual fare of the lumber8 woods.
With the completion of the camps, Rob found his duties a little more complicated, but he was able to arrange his long hours so that, while work was hard, he had the meals on time, well-cooked, and of abundant quantity. At four o’clock in the morning the chopping boss would call “Cookee!” and Rob would crawl out from his “feather bed” of pine boughs covered with its heavy Mackinaw blanket. No time to roll over and take the “forty winks” these mornings. Soon he would have the pitch-pine roaring in the big sheet-iron stove for the men; then he would cross over to the kitchen side, where the fire in the great range would set to steaming the big pots of food. By the time the hot biscuits were ready, the teamsters would be in from the stables, where they had fed, curried56 and harnessed the horses, and the choppers and skidders would be plunging57 through a hasty toilet. By five o’clock Rob would cry, “All ready!” and then would come a rush, each man crowding in where he could and more like a pack of hungry wolves than supposedly civilized58 men, the crew would fall upon the food.
I must make one exception—a teamster who was early dubbed59 “Parson.” This man, a little past middle age, never sat down to a meal without silently bowing his head in thanksgiving. There was no spirit of
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bravado in the act; cant60 seemed to be impossible to the man. He took the ofttimes brutal61 gibes62 of the men with a kindly63 smile, and went his own way. At night when the lanterns were swung from the ridgepole, and the men, during the hour between supper and bed, would be playing cards, telling stories, or singing songs of their wood and river life, Mr. Jackson would take out a well-worn, black Testament64 and read, and then, with always a kind word to Rob, and often some little helpful act, would climb into his bunk65.
Breakfast over, Rob had the bunks66 to put in order, and the house to thoroughly sweep—for Mr. Medford’s camps must be kept clean and tidy. Then, if the crew happened to be working at a considerable distance, dinner must be put on at once, for an hour before noon a team would be sent in for it, and it must be ready, safely packed in large, tightly covered cans. What a job it was to get an out-of-doors dinner for twenty hungry woodsmen! Actually, one of those men would often eat at a meal as much as would be placed upon the table for a half dozen in the city boarding house.
Dishes washed and the table set, the sponge, started the night before, for sixteen loaves of bread (for it would take this number daily, in addition to hot biscuits), would be kneaded down and placed in a warm place to rise. Then there was the woodpile to tackle, and a big stack of dry pine and birch cut and piled up for both cook stove and heater. If dinner was to be eaten at the camp, there were a half-dozen pies to be made from the dried fruit, or two great pans of pudding
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to be baked, before the sixteen loaves of bread would demand the oven. Peeling potatoes and turnips67, and giving attention to the bean-hole outside, helped to fill to the full every moment of the forenoon.
After dinner dishes were attended to, there came a chance for two hours of sleep—and insomnia68, at this time, was not even a passing acquaintance of Rob’s. At four o’clock preparations for supper must begin. Then serving the meal, washing dishes again, and making ready, as far as possible, for the morning meal, filled the time until ten o’clock.
It is not good for man to be alone. Explorers of the polar regions declare that the terrors of that trackless waste are not found in the intense cold, but that it is the awfulness of solitude69, driving men insane, that is most dreaded70.
A strange malady71 of peevishness72, discontent, developing into downright meanness, seems to creep over a company of men shut in together for a lengthened73 time. Seamen74 on long voyages mutiny; soldiers in isolated75 barracks commit ugly acts of insubordination, or take desperate chances to desert.
So it is not strange that during the long winters, when a score of men are shut up together with little or no reading matter, no news from the outside world—nothing to take their thoughts away from themselves, or break the deadly monotony of their daily lives, that this untoward76 trait of human nature should show itself. Usually, before spring comes, the ill-nature of a crew settles upon some particular one, and from becoming
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at first the butt77 of good natured jokes, he finally is the object of genuine persecution78. Woe79 be to that one if he be weak in body or in mind, or if he be a boy.
It was perhaps natural that this crew, all unawakened to and untrained in the higher sensibilities and ideals of life, and hardened by much gross sin, should fall upon the teamster Jackson, who was so unfailing in his religious observances. He seemed out of place to them; his very presence was a rebuke80 to their profanity and foul81 stories and songs, even more so than the sharp command of young Medford, that occasionally brought them to silence. But to all of the chaffing and sneers82 and cursing Jackson presented a quiet, even temper, and his smile held a world of pity. As Jackson’s kindness to Rob became noticed, it appeared to the crew that here was a way by which they could reach the teamster, and all the devilish annoyances83 and coarse brutality84 of a dozen man were directed against the boy. They began by growling85 about the “weak” coffee, although, as swamper Flynn said, “Sure, ’tis as black as me hat, and ’twould float me iron wedge, entirely.” The bread was “no good,” the meat was “tough.” Day after day, Rob, having prepared a meal that would do credit to a high-priced hotel, would be reduced almost to tears through mortification86, by the brutal complaints. That Jackson stood up for the lad, and told the rude fellows that by their grumbling87 they showed they had not been accustomed to good food at home, did not help matters.
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From complaints, the persecution passed to personal annoyances. Rob’s axe88 would be hidden, and he compelled to gather dry limbs to keep the fire going; one morning he found after the breakfast had been delayed and the bunk house filled with smoke, that the stovepipe had been filled with moss. At another time, his wool socks and felt boots disappeared, and he was compelled to go about all day in bare feet. Again, as he crawled into his bunk late one night, worn out, he found that the blanket and boughs had all been saturated89 with water, and he slept upon the hard floor in his overcoat.
At last, the ringleader in the meanness, John Dolve, a big Swede, coming in at night and not finding supper upon the table, although it was not yet time, declared he would fix it so that the boss would have to get another cook.
“Come on, boys,” he cried, “he’s too fresh. Let’s put him in pickle90.” With the help of two or three of the others, he lifted the struggling lad and forced him down into one of the big barrels half filled with brine, from which the meat had been taken, and fastened on the cover. The rough men roared with laughter over the “good joke on the cook,” but the result might have been altogether serious had not Mr. Jackson opportunely91 arrived. With face gone white, as they explained the situation to him, he thrust the men right and left, and liberated92 the poor boy.
“Now, Rob,” said he, as he fitted the boy out in some of his own warm, dry clothing, “just keep yourself
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quiet; that’s the best way. Mr. Medford is due to be back from below and when he comes there will be a change in this camp for good.”
But Robert had not yet found that source of inner strength which kept the teamster undisturbed in the midst of fiery93 trial. The boy had reached the limit of human endurance. He kept his own counsel, but determined94 to submit no longer to such indignities95. He would start for home that very night. That the way lay an hundred miles through what was practically a wilderness, mattered not. No fear of hunger nor cold, nor death itself, should keep him in the camp one day longer.
Mr. Medford, urging on his team the next day, in order to reach camp in good season, caught sight of a figure staggering along the tote road in the distance. At first he took it to be an Indian, but as he drew nearer there was something that appeared familiar about the person. What was his surprise as he came close, to discover that the traveler was Rob.
The lad was so nearly exhausted that he could scarcely speak, yet he endeavored to resist, as Mr. Medford, springing to him where he had sunk down in the snow, picked him up in his arms and placed him in the sleigh. More from what he guessed, than what he was able to get from Rob, did he get an idea of what had occurred.
“Now, young fellow,” said he, “we’re going back; it’s the only thing to do. You’ve good stuff in you,
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although the battle has been a severe one, and now I’ll see about bringing up the reserves.”
With the first out-going tote team went the brutal Dolve and two of his companions, and soon there came a change in the atmosphere of the camp, and the attitude of the men toward the cook was as friendly and appreciative96 as formerly97 it had been unjust and cruel.
Rob made good in his work, and the hearty98 commendation of Mr. Medford was as precious balm to heal his wounded spirit. When the four months were passed, and the camp broke up for the spring, the heart of the lad glowed with pleasure as Mr. Medford, handing him a check for two hundred dollars, said, “The extra is because you’ve been a extra good cook. If you’ll agree, I’ll sign you now for next winter at sixty-five dollars.”
Two hundred dollars meant much to the Allen family that spring, for by it the mother was enabled to go to Chicago for treatment by a famous specialist, who said she had come just in time.
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收听单词发音
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1
robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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outfits
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| n.全套装备( outfit的名词复数 )；一套服装；集体；组织v.装备，配置设备，供给服装( outfit的第三人称单数 ) | |
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tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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5
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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prodigality
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| n.浪费，挥霍 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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ration
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| n.定量(pl.)给养，口粮；vt.定量供应 | |
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smuggled
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| 水货 | |
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flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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brawl
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| n.大声争吵，喧嚷；v.吵架，对骂 | |
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bragging
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| v.自夸，吹嘘( brag的现在分词 )；大话 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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averse
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| adj.厌恶的；反对的，不乐意的 | |
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fiber
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| n.纤维，纤维质 | |
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alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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taverns
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| n.小旅馆，客栈，酒馆( tavern的名词复数 ) | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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dough
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| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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fortify
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| v.强化防御，为…设防；加强，强化 | |
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ravenous
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| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
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scooped
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| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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chunks
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| 厚厚的一块( chunk的名词复数 )； （某物）相当大的数量或部分 | |
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chunk
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| n.厚片，大块，相当大的部分（数量） | |
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batches
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| 一批( batch的名词复数 )； 一炉； （食物、药物等的）一批生产的量； 成批作业 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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42
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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munching
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| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的现在分词 ) | |
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44
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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45
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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46
knoll
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| n.小山，小丘 | |
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47
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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overhauled
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| v.彻底检查( overhaul的过去式和过去分词 )；大修；赶上；超越 | |
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50
stewed
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| adj.焦虑不安的，烂醉的v.炖( stew的过去式和过去分词 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
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51
accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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curried
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| adj.加了咖喱（或咖喱粉的），用咖哩粉调理的 | |
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plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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dubbed
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| v.给…起绰号( dub的过去式和过去分词 )；把…称为；配音；复制 | |
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cant
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| n.斜穿，黑话，猛扔 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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gibes
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| vi.嘲笑，嘲弄（gibe的第三人称单数形式） | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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testament
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| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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bunks
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| n.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的名词复数 )；空话，废话v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 )；空话，废话 | |
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turnips
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| 芜青( turnip的名词复数 )； 芜菁块根； 芜菁甘蓝块根； 怀表 | |
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insomnia
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| n.失眠，失眠症 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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malady
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| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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peevishness
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| 脾气不好；爱发牢骚 | |
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lengthened
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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untoward
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| adj.不利的，不幸的，困难重重的 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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persecution
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| n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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sneers
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| 讥笑的表情（言语）( sneer的名词复数 ) | |
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annoyances
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| n.恼怒( annoyance的名词复数 )；烦恼；打扰；使人烦恼的事 | |
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brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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saturated
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| a.饱和的，充满的 | |
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pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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opportunely
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| adv.恰好地，适时地 | |
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liberated
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| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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indignities
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| n.侮辱，轻蔑( indignity的名词复数 ) | |
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appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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