nce in these forests. To him it
was amazing that the Skandinavia should send this girl, this
good-looker, on a journey through their forests alone. He would
willingly have asked the question. But he remembered her written
commission, signed by Elas Peterman. So he was left with no alternative
but to yield the utmost respect.

"Y'see, mam," he went on easily. "I guess I could talk quite a piece on
this thing, but maybe you won't fancy my dope. Skandinavia's been badly
spoilt by the cut in the Shagaunty Valley. You've seen it all. Guess
you've come right through. Well, that being so, you'll understand the
Shagaunty cut's been far above average. Now we're down to average.
That's all. That's how the Skandinavia's been spoilt."

He thrust his cap back from his forehead. It was a movement of
irritation. Then he produced a plug of tobacco from his hip-pocket, and
bit off a chew.

"I've been twenty odd years lumbering," he went on a moment later. "I've
lumbered most every forest in Ontario and Quebec. There ain't more'n one
bunch of plums like the Shagaunty. Mostly the forest's full of the sort
of stuff we're handling here. These forests are average and I'd like to
say to the Skandinavia, 'you've got to figger results on the average.'
We're cutting down to the minimum because we've got to, to feed the
booms right. Well, that's goin' on if I know my job. There's patch
stuff better. I daresay there's new ground on our limits liable to hand
us Shagaunty stuff. But that's just as I say, patch stuff, an' not
average. If they want Shagaunty quality right through let 'em get out
and get limits up on Labrador. I reckon there's a hundred years cutting
up there that 'ud leave Shagaunty a bunch of weed grass. They say the
folks out on the coast are worried to death there's so much stuff, an'
so big, an' good, an' soft, an' long-fibred. The jacks out that way are
up to the neck in a hell of a good time, sure. I get it they've time to
sleep half the year, it's so easy. Well, it ain't that way here. We've
no time singing hymns around this lay-out. It's hell, here, keeping the
darn booms fed. Speakin' for my outfit I'd say they're a pretty bright
lot of boys. What a feller can do they can do, I guess. But there are
times I get mighty sick chasing to get even the minimum. An' it's all
the time kick. The Skandinavia seems to have got a grouch about now you
couldn't beat with a tank of rye whisky. You've seen it all as far as I
can show you,