An important part of his duty consisted in keeping up the great fire
that roared and crackled unceasingly in the caboose. The appetite of this
fire seemed unappeasable, and many a time did his arms and legs grow
weary in ministering to its wants. Sometimes, when all his other work was
done, he would go out to the wood-pile, and selecting the thickest and
toughest-looking logs, arrange them upon the hearth so that they might
take as long as possible to burn; and then, congratulating himself that
he had secured some respite from toil, get out his rifle for a little
practice at a mark, or would open one of the few books he had brought
with him. But it seemed to him he would hardly have more than one shot at
the mark, or get through half-a-dozen pages, before Baptiste's thick
voice would be heard calling out,--

"Francois, Francois! Ver is yer? Some more wood, k'vick!" And with a
groan poor Frank would have to put away the rifle or book and return
to the wood-pile.

"I suppose I'm what the Bible calls a hewer of wood and a drawer of
water," he would say to himself; for hardly less onerous than the task
of keeping the fire in fuel was that of keeping well filled the two
water-barrels that stood on either side of the door--one for the thirsty
shantymen, the other for Baptiste's culinary needs.

The season's work once well started, it went forward with commendable
steadiness and vigour under Foreman Johnston's strict and energetic
management. He was admirably suited for his difficult position. His
grave, reserved manner rendered impossible that familiarity which is so
apt to breed contempt, while his thorough mastery of all the secrets of
woodcraft, his great physical strength, and his absolute fearlessness
in the face of any peril, combined to make him a fit master for the