the logging over, and when the snap of the first frost nipped the leaves
from the trees, Macdonald became restless. He took down his broad-axe
and spent hours polishing it and bringing it to an edge, then he put it
in its wooden sheath and laid it away. But the fever was upon him, ten
thousand voices from the forest were shouting for him. He went away
troubled to his minister. In an hour he came back with the old good
humor in his face, took down the broad-axe again, and retouched it,
lovingly, humming the while the old river song of the Glengarry men--

Ho ro mo nighean, etc.

He was going back to the bush and to the biggest fight of his life. No
wonder he was glad. Then his good little wife began to get ready his
long, heavy stockings, his thick mits, his homespun smock, and other
gear, for she knew well that soon she would be alone for another
winter. Before long the word went round that Macdonald Bhain was for the
shanties again, and his men came to him for their orders.

But it was not to the old life that Macdonald was going, and he gravely
told those that came to him that he would take no man who could not
handle his axe and hand-spike, and who could not behave himself.
"Behaving himself" meant taking no more whiskey than a man could carry,
and refusing all invitations to fight unless "necessity was laid upon
him." The only man to object was his own brother, Macdonald Dubh, whose
temper was swift to blaze, and with whom the blow was quicker than the
word. But after the second year of the new order even Black Hugh fell
into line. Macdonald soon became famous on the Ottawa. He picked only
the best men, he fed them well, paid them the highest wages, and cared
for their comfort, but held them in strictest discipline. They would
drink but kept sober, they would spend money but knew how much was
coming to them. They feared no men even of "twice their own heavy and
big," but would never fight except under necessity. Contracts began to
come their way. They made money, and what was better, they brought it
home. The best men sought to join them, but by rival gangs and by men
rejected from their ranks they were hated with deepest heart hatred. But
the men from Glengarry knew no fear and sought no favor. They asked only
a good belt of pine and an open river. As a rule they got both, and it
was peculiarly maddening to Black Hugh to find two or three miles of
solid logs between his timber and the open water of the