The Man From Glengarry

oods, and with good sleighing and open rivers every day was golden to the lumbermen who had stuff to get down to the big water.

ld tight by a boom across the mouth, just where it flowed into the Nation. In a few days he would have his crib made, and his outfit ready to start for the Ottawa mills.

ree solid miles of logs boomed at the head of the bi

, d'ye think, Le

years ago, and had wrought and fought his way, as he thought, against all rivals to the proud position of "boss on de reever," the topmost pinnacle of a lumberman's ambition. It was something to see LeNoir "run a log" across the river and back; that is, he would balance himself upon a floating log, and by spinning it

he river now, an' the

throwing back his head. His only unconquered riva

ighean donn

ighean donn

, laghach,

sainn a

soon a "pointer" pulled by six stalwart men with a lad in the ster

mo run's na

mo ribhinn

m fasach

nn fad

the full chorus

mo nigh

w dem fellers?" said LeNoir. Murphy nodded. "Ivery divil iv thim-Big Mack Cameron, Dannie Ross, Finlay Campbell-the redheaded one-the next I don't know, and yes! be dad! there's that blanked Yankee, Yankee Jim, they call him, an' bad luck till him. T

de long Sault, bah! No good!" LeNoir's contempt for Macdonald was genuine and complete. F

stood up and gazed down the river, packed from bank to bank with the brown saw-logs; deep curses broke from him. Then he caught sight of the men on the bank. A word of com

e logs mean, Murphy?" he demand

nald," said Murphy, blandly offeri

and LeNoir, whom he slightly knew. "It is a fery goot evening, indeed," he said

Black Hugh followed Murphy to the tavern, the most pretentious of a group of log buildings-once a lumber camp-whi

stronger than those of blood. Their loneliness, their triumphs, their sorrows, born of their common life-long conflict with the forest and its fierce beasts, knit them in bonds close and enduring. The sons born to them and reared in the heart of the pine forests grew up to witness that heroic struggle with stern nature and to take their part in it. And mighty men they were. Their life bred in them hardiness of frame, alertness of sense, readiness of resource, endurance, superb self-reliance, a courage that grew with peril, and withal a certain wildness which at times deepened into ferocity. By their fathers the forest was dreaded and hated, but the sons, with rifles in hand, trod its pathless stretches without fear, and with their broad-axes they took toll of their ancient foe. For while in spring and summer they farmed their narrow fields, and rescued new lands from the brule; in winter they sought the forest, and b

and devotion. Fighting was like wine to him, when the fight was worth while, and he went into the fights his admirers were always arranging for him with the easiest good humor and with a smile on his face. But Macdonald Bhain's carousing, fighting days came to an abrupt stop about three years before the opening of this tale, for on one of his summer visits to his home, "The word of the Lord in the mouth of his servant Alexander Murray," as he was wont to say, "found him and he was a new man." He went into his new life with the same whole-souled joyousness as had marked the old, and he announced that with the shanty and the r

o nighe

y his long, heavy stockings, his thick mits, his homespun smock, and other gear, for she knew well that soon she would be alone for an

mous 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

s time. There were only six of the enemy, he had ten times the number with him, many of them eager to pay off old scores; and besides there was Louis LeNoir as the "Boss Bully" of the river. The Frenchman was not only a powerful man, active with hands and feet, but he was an adept in all kinds of fighting tricks. Since coming to the Ottawa he had heard of the big Macdonald, and he sought to meet him. But Macdonald avoided him once and again till LeNoir, having never known any one avoiding a fight for any reas

seys, with knitted sashes about their waists, and red and blue and green tuques on their heads. Drunken rows were their delight, and fights so fierce that many a man came out battered and bruised to death or to life-long decrepitude. They were sitting on the benches that ran round the room, or lounging against the bar singing, talking, blaspheming.

with noise, they were greatly mistaken, for they stood quietly waiting for their glasses to be filled, alert, but with an air of perfect indifference. Some eight or ten glasses were set

, and the chorus of derisive yells that answered

a low tone, "there's rather a good string of 'em raound." Macdonald Dubh glanced about him. His eye fell on his boy, and for the first time his face became anxious. "Ranald," he said, an

ather, giving hi

mouth, "drink." The boy took a gulp, choked, and spat it out. LeNoir and his men r

boy, "it is n

aid LeNoir, thrusting t

ald, looking at LeNoir

before he could take a second step Ranald, squirming round like a cat, had sunk his teeth into LeNoir's wrist. With a cry of rage and pain LeNoir raised the bottle and was bringing it down on Ranald's head, when Black Hugh, with one hand, caught the fall

d started for the boy. But Yankee Jim had got Ranald to the door and was whispering to him. "Run!" cried Yankee Jim,

ould only gain time. Every minute was precious. It would take the boy fifteen minutes to run the two miles to camp. It would be half an hour before the rest of the Glengarry men could arrive, and much fighting may be done in that time. He must avert attention from Macdon

ses at the top of his voice. He hurled himself into th

eps, and springing up into the air he kicked the stov

He stood for a moment looking up at the stovepipe, then without apparent effort he sprang into the air, shot

er. "Good thing there ain't no fire. Thought it was higher. Wou

pecially prided himself on his high kick, he paused a moment and was abou

he said, turning to Dan Murphy. "I want

rly on yirsilf

ur logs be ou

s a ha-r-r-d one,

t hev you to close up the river

y, but the whole creation ye an yir brother think is yours." Dan Murphy was close up to Macdonald Dubh by this time. "Yis, blank,

For answer Black Hugh smote him sudden an

ankee, cheerily. "Now,

t upon Macdonald like a cat, but Macdonald shook himsel

," he roared, "Gl

with the delight of battle. It was a plain necessity, an

urphy, struggling past L

elled LeNoir, dancing

self this way." Murphy dashed at him, but Yankee's long a

and Pat Murphy fell back over his brother; two others staggered across and checked the oncoming rush, while Dannie Ross and big Mack Cameron had each beaten back their man, and the Glengarry line stood unbroken. Man

, Murphy?" drawled Yankee. "Don'

laughed Big Mack Cameron. "Come up, la

again. They strove to bring the Highlanders to a cli

engarry men waited till they could strike, and when they

divils!" And again and again his men crowded down upon the line against the wal

way again, but without much result. Black Hugh refused to be drawn out, and fought warily on defense

r taunting their foes, they were joking each other on the fortunes of war. Big Mack Cameron, who held the center,

k came in on Big Mack's face. "As true as death I will be telling it to Bella Peter

he now," said Finlay Campbell. "Man a

yonder a little better," said Big Mack, reaching for a Frenchman who kept dodgi

enough, but in Gaelic it must be uncommon rough." So they gibed each other. But the tactics of the

you! Come away, man! A-a-ah-ouch!" His cry of satisfaction at having grabbed his man ended in a how

ill his face grew black and his head fell over on one side. But it was a fatal move for Mack, and overcome by numbers that crowded upon him, he went down fighting wildly and bearing the Frenchman beneath him. The Glengarry line was broken. Black Hugh saw Mack's peril, and knew that it meant destruction to all. With a wilder cry t

thers who took their turn at him, had been keeping an eye on the line of battle, saw Macdonald's danger, and knowing that the crisis had come, dashed across the line, crying "Follow me, boys." His long arms swung round his head like the sails of a wind-mill, and men fell back from him as if they had been made of wood. As LeNoir sprang, Yankee shot fiercely at him, but the Frenchman, too quick for him, ducked and leaped upon Black Hugh, who was still swaying against the wall, bore him down and jumped with his heavy "corked" boots on his breast

ocking his head with a thud against the wall. Before he could strike aga