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excite her brother's or her nephew's suspicion。 It was a good
thing that little baking was required； for the teams that brought
the men with their axes and logging…chains for the day's work at
the brule brought also their sisters and mothers with baskets of
provisions。 A logging bee without the sisters and mothers with
their baskets would hardly be an unmixed blessing。
The first man to arrive with his team was Peter McGregor's Angus；
and with him came his sister Bella。 He was shortly afterward
followed by other teams in rapid successionthe Rosses； the
McKerachers； the Camerons； both Don and Murdie； the Rory McCuaigs；
the McRaes； two or three families of them； the Frasers； and others
till some fifteen teams and forty men； and boys； who thought
themselves quite men； lined up in front of the brule。
The bee was a great affair； for Macdonald Bhain was held in high
regard by the people； and besides this； the misfortune that had
befallen his brother； and the circumstances under which it had
overtaken him； had aroused in the community a very deep sympathy
for him； and people were glad of the opportunity to manifest this
sympathy。 And more than all； a logging bee was an event that
always promised more or less excitement and social festivity。
Yankee was 〃boss〃 for the day。 This position would naturally have
fallen to Macdonald Bhain； but at his brother's bee； Macdonald
Bhain shrank from taking the leading place。
The men with the axes went first； chopping up the half…burned logs
into lengths suitable for the burning…piles； clearing away the
brushwood； and cutting through the big roots of the fire…eaten
stumps so that they might more easily be pulled。 Then followed the
teams with their logging…chains； hauling the logs to the piles；
jerking out and drawing off the stumps whose huge roots stuck up
high into the air； and drawing great heaps of brush…wood to aid in
reducing the heavy logs to ashes。 At each log…pile stood a man
with a hand…spike to help the driver to get the log into position；
a work requiring strength and skill； and above all； a knowledge of
the ways of logs which comes only by experience。 It was at this
work that Macdonald Bhain shone。 With his mighty strength he could
hold steady one end of a log until the team could haul the other
into its place。
The stump…pulling was always attended with more or less interest
and excitement。 Stumps； as well as logs； have their ways； and it
takes a long experience to understand the ways of stumps。
In stump…hauling； young Aleck McGregor was an expert。 He rarely
failed to detect the weak side of a stump。 He knew his team； and
what was of far greater importance； his team knew him。 They were
partly of French…Canadian stock； not as large as Farquhar
McNaughton's big； fat blacks； but 〃as full of spirit as a bottle of
whisky；〃 as Aleck himself would say。 Their first tentative pulls
at the stump were taken with caution； until their driver and
themselves had taken the full measure of the strength of the enemy。
But when once Aleck had made up his mind that victory was possible；
and had given them the call for the final effort； then his team put
their bodies and souls into the pull； and never drew back till
something came。 Their driver was accustomed to boast that never
yet had they failed to honor his call。
Farquhar's handsome blacks； on the other hand； were never handled
after this fashion。 They were slow and sure and steady； like their
driver。 Their great weight gave them a mighty advantage in a pull；
but never； in all the solemn course of their existence； had they
thrown themselves into any doubtful trial of strength。 In a slow；
steady haul they were to be relied upon； but they never could be
got to jerk； and a jerk is an important feature in stump…hauling
tactics。 To…day； however； a new experience was awaiting them。
Farquhar was an old man and slow； and Yankee； while he was unwilling
to hurry him； was equally unwilling that his team should not do a
full day's work。 He persuaded Farquhar that his presence was
necessary at one of the piles； not with the hand…spike； but simply
to superintend the arranging of the mass for burning。 〃For it ain't
every man； Yankee declared； 〃could build a pile to burn。〃 As for his
team； Yankee persuaded the old man that Ranald was unequaled in
handling horses； that last winter no driver in the camp was up to
him。 Reluctantly Farquhar handed his team over to Ranald； and stood
for some time watching the result of the new combination。
Ranald was a born horseman。 He loved horses and understood them。
Slowly he moved the blacks at their work； knowing that horses are
sensitive to a new hand and voice； and that he must adapt himself
to their ways； if he would bring them at last to his。 Before long
Farquhar was contented to go off to his pile； satisfied that his
team was in good hands； and not sorry to be relieved of the
necessity of hurrying his pace through the long； hot day； as would
have been necessary in order to keep up with the other drivers。
For each team a strip of the brule was marked out to clear after
the axes。 The logs； brush； and stumps had to be removed and
dragged to the burning…piles。 Aleck； with his active； invincible
French…Canadians； Ranald with Farquhar's big； sleek blacks； and
Don with his father's team； worked side by side。 A contest was
inevitable； and before an hour had passed Don and Aleck； while
making a great show of deliberation； were striving for the first
place； with Aleck easily leading。 Like a piece of machinery； Aleck
and his team worked together。 Quickly and neatly both driver and
horses moved about their work with perfect understanding of each
other。 With hardly a touch of the lines； but almost entirely by
word of command； Aleck guided his team。 And when he took up the
whiffletrees to swing them around to a log or stump； his horses
wheeled at once into place。 It was beautiful to see them；
wheeling； backing； hauling； pulling； without loss of time or
temper。
With Don and his team it was all hard work。 His horses were
willing and quick enough； but they were ill…trained and needed
constant tugging at the lines。 In vain Don shouted and cracked his
whip； hurrying his team to his pile and back again； the horses only
grew more and more awkward； while they foamed and fretted and tired
themselves out。
Behind came Ranald； still humoring his slow…going team with easy
hand and quiet voice。 But while he refrained from hurrying his
horses； he himself worked hard； and by his good judgment and skill
with the chain； and in skidding the logs into his pile； in which
his training in the shanty had made him more than a match for any
one in the field； many minutes were saved。
When the cowbell sounded for dinner； Aleck's team stepped off for
the barn； wet； but fresh and frisky as ever； and in perfect heart。
Don's horses appeared fretted and jaded； while Ranald brought in
his blacks with their glossy skins white with foam where the
harness had chafed； but unfretted； and apparently as ready for work
as when they began。
〃You have spoiled the shine of your team；〃 said Aleck； looking over
Ranald's horses as he brought them up to the trough。 〃Better turn
them out for the afternoon。 They can't stand much more of that
pace。〃
Aleck was evidently trying to be good…natured； but he could not
hide the sneer in his tone。 They had neither of them forgotten the
incident at the church door； and both felt that it would not be
closed until more had been said about it。 But to…day； Ranald was
in the place of host； and it behooved him to be courteous； and
Aleck was in good humor with himself； for his team had easily led
the field； and besides； he was engaged in a kind and neighborly
undertaking； and he was too much of a man to spoil it by any
private grudge。 He would have to wait for his settlement with
Ranald。
During the hour and a half allowed for dinner； Ranald took his
horses to the well； washed off their legs； removed their harness；
and led them to a cool spot behind the barn； and there； while they
munched their oats； he gave them a good hard rub…down； so that when
he brought them into the field again； his team looked as glossy and
felt as fresh as before they began the day's work。
As Ranald appeared on the field with his glossy blacks； Aleck
glanced at the horses； and began to feel that； in the contest for
first place； it was Ranald he had to fear； with his cool； steady
team； rather than Don。 Not that any suspicion crossed his mind
that Farquhar McNaughton's sleek； slow…going horses could ever hold
their own with his； but he made up his mind that Ranald； at least；
was worth watching。
〃Bring up your gentry；〃 he called to Ranald； 〃if you are not too
fine for common folks。 Man； that team of yours；〃 he continued；
〃should never be put to work like this。 Their feet should never be
off pavement。〃
〃Never you mind；〃 said Ranald； quietly。 〃I am coming after you；
and perhaps before night the blacks may show you their heels yet。〃
〃There's lots of room；〃 said Aleck； scornfully； and they both set
to work with all the skill and strength that lay in themselves and
in their teams。