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I PART THREE 1
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I PAGES 21 TO 28 if
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A. A.
YOL. XIX.
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LUMPING LOGS AT
HE forests of Oregon!
Whore will you
match them for maj
esty, for grandeur,
for extent In robes
of lllng green they
clothe the hills; they
cb er the rugged
-mountain slopes aa
"with a mantle, and every cleft and
glen and canyon Is lined, deep and
close, with their somber shade. The
xostful Influence of "dim cathedral
aisles," is theirs. Swift, snow-fed streams
thread, with flashes of silver, the sha
dowed silences, and laugh at Echo, sleep
ing In her hidden caves, , or wandering,
lost, along the distant ridges. Nowhere
in the world can be found,more magnifi
cent reaches 'of timber.
From, the Cascades' frozen gorges
to the grain-paved levels of the valley;
grom the eastern base of" the Coast Range
to Its serrated summit, and down to the
aea, tho fir trees of Oregon stand thick
and stately and talL They have seen
the centuries pass, silent and unnamed. In
this once lonely land, and the winds that
hlow out of the western ocean have
stirred their topmost branches, for, per
haps, a thousand years. The moccaslned
feet, whose noiseless Imprint, for count
less generations of men, wore a winding
path In the soft moss carpet, "no more
pass and repass in the hushed solitudes.
The Indian, trails are overgrown. The
great "brown boles of firs rise, like fiufed
columns, from a, luxuriant tangle of
varied green, crowding each other close
ly as they stand, with here and there
a cedar, -or a hemlock, emblematic of true
humility, mingling Its graceful branches
with the darker foliage of the taller,
statelier trees.
The stillness Is Intense, but listen!
Presently there is a faint murmuring, a
long-drawn sigh, that swells and sinks
and swells again, gradually gc thering in
volume till it Is like the rush of storm
tossed seas. The winds are awake. The
trees find voice,
The Tree.
Ptr up la the heart of the Cascades, eo
TIDEWATER .
remote that scarcely the birds had found
it, stood the tree a Douglas fir.
Stately and tall in sun and rain,
An emerald tower of mysteries,
"With murmur of the far-oft seas
"And Nature's countless melodies
Blshlng through all Its banners green.
Hundreds of years had slipped into the
voiceless past since, bursting the brown
walls of its seed-prison, It shot up-into
the sunlight, a slender shaft, with myri
ads of its kind, growing swfftly through
the long, bright Summers and burled in
"Winter beneath sheltering- snows. m
Tear, by year, crowding ever more
closely Its Immediate neighbors, until the
less sturdy of .them lost heart and fell
away, crumbling to dust that mixed with
the mold, the young fir grew to a tree.
Three hundred , feet above the brown
earth its green crest was kissedsby the
sun and- caressed by the winds. Tho
white clouds, drifting in from the sea,
acros the lower hilsl and valleys,- were
caught and tangled In its loftier branches.
Lightly rooted in the yielding soil, it yet
stood firm and straight, protected from
the rage of stormsvbythe serried ranks
of its fellows. Sheer two hundred feet
irom the matted luxuriance of bracken
and wild grape at Its base, it sprang,
without a knot or Jjiough to mar the
symmetry of Its splendid bulk.
The "cruisers," those menof fell intent,,
who went up Into the great forest to
spy out the lay of the land and estimate
the quantity of the timber yield, paid it
no particular attention. There were so
many thousands of Douglas fir, all so
nearly similar, that it seemed hardly
worth while to single out one as ..an
object for special admiration. But the
two men who followed the timber cruisers
to mark the trees for felling, were im
pressed with Its majesty. They lamented,
as they rested in the shaded stillness,
feasting their eyes upon Its symmetry and
size, the faot that it must fall. Lumber
men are not without sentiment.
The Silence Broken.
X.ater came the logging crew, and the
silence of unnumbered ce'nturles4 was
broken hy the stroke of the ax the sound
of the saw and the shouts of men, urg
ing the patient oxen.
Down below, on a convenient level-by
tha river's brink,", is the camp. , Sheds
PORTLAND, OREGON,
havo been erected .for the cattle, and. a
log house, or-sometlmes a barn-like build
ing, hastily constructed, serves the com
bined purpose of bedroom, kitchen and
dining-room. It is lined wlih double rows
of bunks, built against the walls and
filled wlthv fir boughs. Tho middle floor
' spaco Is occupied by the dining table, a
construction of rough boards. -.In one end
is the fireplace, with Its wide-mouthed,
wooden chimney, andithe ironrange, or
stove, upon which the cook " and" his
helper prepare the meals. The fate Is
plain, but substantial, and it seldom
" varies. TKe tableware"ls"notI as'a"Vule,
of a breakable nature, but hungry men
are not over-particular. In the master
- of towels, the camp is communistic, ,but
blankets, are individual property, .and each
man furnishes his own. . ?
From dawn to dusk of fcthe short Winter
days the monotonous ..sweep of the saw,
tlie rlriglngax stroke and sharp report
of. the oxwhlp wake the' long-sleeping
echoes in theupland woods."-Now and
again, with a sound that seems to shake
the'mountain to its center, a conquered
giant goes crashing to the earih, where
it lies, showered with shattered boughs,
swept from its .still standing neighbor's in
the fall, and quivering for a briefspace, '
as if tho snapping of those last tough
fibers had a.o quite extinguished life:
And now the stateliest tree in all the
forest Is singled out and marked for! de
strucion. The axmen approach, and,
fitting the springboards firmly in place,
proceed to chop through.- the thick,
spongy bark and into the resinous, rich
wood, making way for the saw and, at
the same time, directing the course of
the fall." This done, the great saw is
lifted into position, and the slow process
of felling the fir" is fairly begun.
The Prostrate Monarch.
.A sound like the straining, of spars, In
a heavy gale warns tho wgodmen to look
after their own safety.. Then comes a
mighty crash, and the forest rmonarch
lies stretched upon the leafy mold.
. "When the commotion caused by that
majestic descent has somewhat subsided,
the prostrate tree is measured and sawed
up Into 16 and 20-foot lengths. The bark
is Temoved, and the ends of tho logs aro
rudely' beveled. Men, with "canthooks"
;roll the lpgs into convenient position. By
SUNDAY HORNING, SEPTEMBER 30, 1900.
1 lJHsllllllsMHBjS??rBii if . I
BfiNKING"LOG'S.-r
i means of heavy log chains and Iron hooka
w mvu, vwo UA ICttUiS, v BUUICUIUC
numbering a dozen yoke, drag them, one
v by one, out over the skidroads to the top
!of the i'chute.
" The chute is made of
, split , timbers, is slightly concave, and
gpes straight down the mountain side' to
' t i ., h-oi- , , camps necessarily differ., Indeed 'these
, It is no light -rtask to place a log and , , . '.;,i.tfv;
.start It on its, downward journey, but,1 things are governed practically he na
:oncev started, it goe3 with the swiftness ,ture of the trees to be handl6d4nd by
. of the wind and the force of a cannon the locality, althoughEhe alnouritjof caj"
ball, sometimes bounding high in the air. ital at the command of .the operating, In.-
. as it strike's the level at the foot of the dividual or company figures vsome.wnat in
l'V,.. 4V,--.n.ln l..j . ,j.
, uiiuic! ui HHUWW1& u. viiuu ul spray as iu
' plunges In(o tho river's depths.
All Winter long the work, begun in the
j early Autumn, goe3 on. uninterruptedly
in the mountain camps where the logs
are "bankedi" to be afterward dumped
into tho stream, in time to take advant
age of tho Spring freshets. When this Is
, done and the drive begins, the camp Is iron tracks, floored between with smooth
i broken up; the ox teams are turned out timbers and kept flooded with water, in
to pasture, and the logging crew f611dw3 order to prevent disastrous results from
the drive on its slow, downward course, friction, have supeseded the "skid" roads.
, Compared' to the work of "driving'," The motive power Is supplied by a
logs in the rivers of Maine and Michigan ' staunch but grimy little engine that drag!
Minnesota. and . Northern1 Wisconsin?, the lengthy train of logs, coupled by
where the melting of ice in the 'farljr short chains or ropes and held by "dogs"
Spring Is the signal for the breaking up. as, If they were so many cars, along-the
j of the Winter camp, the Oregon drive concave track to the bank of the stream,
might almost be called, a pastime.y 'al-;? 0r the shore of the tide flat-where they
though It is far enough frqm probable are to be dumped. In some cases they
that the loggers themselves regard Mt in are 'delivered, in this fashion, at the mill
that light. The larger logs are prone "to -which converts them into lumbar,
stick fast upon frequent gravel bars, There is one mlll.vfar up on a preclpl
from which it requires much muscular "ex-T tous" mountain side, over 1000 feet above
ertion to dislodge them. Those of greater' the Columbia, whose two logging camps
length possess b a provoking tendency ,to are several miles distant, in - the very
swing crosswise against every slightest heart of the heavy fore.st. Each of these
obstruction in midstream, thereby form- camps' has its' own 'system of handling
tag "Jams" thatar productive of -.toil, the logs,' and -thoy aro. as entirely.- differ-"
4 - t i ' i
iltr s w
yr-Jtl ' t A?T-
!, v" "w , ..
profanity and ice-cold, tin welcome, baths
And there are other drawbacks.)
Varying: Methbds. ,
The timber lands of 'Oregon arexof such
Mt extenttf and the timber lfeelf so .va
ried in character that 'the -means' "and
mpthnrls mnlnviri In ths vnrintiit'lirHnrlntr
I a... aj -v y
lhv iiiu.ti.er. , j
For instance, where the magnitude 'of
the enterprise justifies the expensesteam
takes the place of cattle or horse's, to a
certain extent. The logs ae lifted,' moved
and dragged out of the woods by means
of strong cables, worked by steam.
Where it has been practicable, well-laid
eni'jasif'theV'were Hundreds Of miles
apart.
Extending to the first of these from
the mill Is a railroad, similar to the one
Just referred to. The heavy planking,
istrong'ly spiked to the cross ties, is kept
well watered along the levels, which,
.however, are few, for tho grade is steep
and winding for the most part. From
the upper terminus .of the- line "skid
roads" radiate, in every direction. Over
these roads the-grea't, unwieldy logs aro
drawn by yoked oxen to the track, whero
they are linked together, end to end, at
tached! to -the locomotive and hurried
down to the mill.
Cables anl Steam.
In .the; second camp all this work of
moving' the logs and getting them out of
the timber is done by means of cables
and steam. In fact, it is very much the
sime svatem as that which onerates the
city's street-cars, only -modified to meet
the exigencies of the case. Thfre Is
power-house, of course, and the ' cables,
which are lJong enough to reach anywhere
within a radius of a mile and a half, do
the work 7that would otherwise require
the presence- of many men and more cat
tle. These "cables-are nearly automatic in
their manner of working. Attached to the
logs, 'they,, with ease, life and drag them
out and.into "convenient position on the
ever-present skid-road. Here they, the
logs, 'are coupled and rapidly drawn to
the'ehnte, almost a mile in length, and
dispatched down its steep incline to the
. Dond.from which thev are taken "as need
ed, and. hauled by the locomotive to the
mill b"bkrw.
Theso are" but a few of .the many ways
in whidh the labor of logging is conduct
ed. Every company, it Is scarcely too
much to "say, has Bome device or method
.that lsjjeculiarly Its own, made necessary
, by the situation and the character of the
timber to ba gotten out. All 'along the
, Columbia River .one sees flumes. NOno of
these is eight miles long, and. down Its
- watered Incline the" timber, roughly sawed
into tlesand beams, is sent to the plan-
era, on the river bank below.
1 a wamtnir
Already . the ery goes up , that our
hills and mountains are being denuded,
ruthlessly" stripped of their valuable
,. robes, and a strong protest has" notj been
wanting against the reckless destruction
., ,Va
It ls wellthat this cry rs heard;, that
this protesfhas been raised, for, in -spite
: of 'the 2O.C00 000 acres of timber lands that
go to swell the resources of this emerald
state, and 10.000,000 of which, it has been
estimated, are yet untouched, there ls
sufficient .truth in the charge of "reckless
destruction" to give us pause. .Neither
the protest nor the .cry has been barren.
Lof effect. Even now there "are measures
i enforced looking to the protection and
preservation of the splendid forest
reaches .that "clothe our mountain ranges
"and their-outlying spurs' and foothills,
from base to summit.
There are the Government reserves, pa
trolled throughout ""th long, dry Summer
by "those watchful guardians, 'the fore3t
rangers, ever on,the lookout for fire.5 The
time. Is not so far distant as to havo been
forgotten when, from late July to early
September, . the , valley t as veiled In
smoke, and when we knew that, some
where up there "among '"the crags and
canyons of the Cascades or on the swell-
ing slopes oi ine oast ange, me roresc
flrss wereragimj. 4 When the .. pall of
NO. 39.
smoke was lifted, blown about and dis
solved by the wind and rain of early Au
tumn, the burnt district, once as beauti
ful as a, dream and filled with the mys
tery of wild life, presented a scene of the
most utter desolation. Charred and black
ened stumps, prostrate trunks and stand
ing trees stripped of the g'ory of groin
bough3, the sap of life seared out of
them by the fierce heat of the ravaging
flames; tho very soil scorched to crisping
cinder ah! there could be no more dreary
spectacle. There Is rone on earth, and
many years must elapse befoie the dam
age can, in any appreciable t!sc, be re
paired. It Is due to the forest rangers and tho
Qovernment reserves that recent "burns"
arc few and of limited extent. During
the last two years, no very destructive
fires have occurred in the Cascades, and
even the Coast Range has escaped. In
some almost miraculous fashion.
The state is at last awakening to the
importance of preserving the magnificent
forests. Individual interests, too, sub
serve the public good. Trees represent a
monetary value- not properly recognized
until of late, and it Is h'ghly improbable
that the settler who t.-kes up a home
stead inr the heavy tlnmar will rashly de
stroy hl3 most valuable possession, as
was hl3 former habit. The time Is hap
pily past when splendid trees, from 200 to
SOQ feet in height, and perfect from root
to topmost tassle, were cut down, bored
full of auger holes and sot with fires that
consumed them utterly, because, forsooth.
thcy wero considered In the way and
worthless.
Lumbermen aro turning from, the reck
lessly devastated timber lands of Maino
and Michigan. New York and "Wisconsin.,
to tho matchless forests of Oregon and
and "Washington. And with modern facili
ties, with improved appliances of steam
and electricity in the work of converting
the standing tree into a marketable com
modity, the disappearance of the, glory
that clothes the hills and protects the
valleys Is merely a question of time.
The fir Is not. by far, the only valuabla
wood known to commerce and grown on
Oregon soil. The northern slopes of tho
SIsklyous, the outlying spurs of the Caa-
' cades overlooking Klamath Marsh, and
the gold-rimmed hlll3 of the southern, part
of the state are rich In forests of pine
the beautiful sugar pine, that for size and
symmetry, very nearly approaches tho fir
itself. It attains an average height of
1T5 -eet ls singularly free from knots and
' decay, and ls comparatively easy to han-
dle
Other "Woo d.
, Alone the eastern, slope of the Cascade
'Range, extending southward from Tho
Dailies, and well into Lake County. 13 a
wealth of yellow- pine which, when con-
' verted into lumber, finds a ready market.
Then there is the Menzie3 spruce (ablea
Menziesil), the spruce of the tidelands. a
tree that loves the salt sea air; that
revels in the fury of storm!, and flour
ishes best within sound of the SttTT. or
. . .. ... . ...
where the wild waves fling their rainbow
l spray in the face of beetling cliffs. Its
wood Is coarser-grained, and heavier than
that of either the pine or the fir; but It
has its uses, and is valued accordingly.
. The cedars are widely scattered. The
white or smooth-barked cedar grows
freely throughout the northwestern port
of the state. The incense cedar (libro
cedrus decurrens), is found "no farther
north than the northern limits of Lane
County, and the Port Orford cedar, or
cypress, stops at the Umpqua. It is at
Its best along the northern, slopes of the
SIsklyous, although It is found In abund
ance In the region of Coos Bay and tha
Coquille River.
Then. there are the oaks, of which we
have two, the black and the white, and
the maples, the ash and the alder. La3t
of all comes the cottonwood, until lately
considered utterly without value, but now
known to possess certain desirable quali
ties that make It worth the consideration
of the paper manufacturers. It is of
rapia growth, and partial to the gravel
bax3 that line the banks of many of our
streams.- i,ifKTF"RN yL rrT.T-p)-