CHAPTER XVII

OUR LOGGING-BEE

  There was a man in our town,
  In our town, in our town—­
  There was a man in our town,
  He made a logging-bee;

      And he bought lots of whiskey,
      To make the loggers frisky—­
      To make the loggers frisky
          At his logging-bee.

  The Devil sat on a log heap,
  A log heap, a log heap—­
  A red hot burning log heap—­
  A-grinning at the bee;

      And there was lots of swearing,
      Of boasting and of daring,
      Of fighting and of tearing,
          At that logging bee.

J.W.D.M.

A logging-bee followed the burning of the fallow, as a matter of course.  In the bush, where hands are few, and labour commands an enormous rate of wages, these gatherings are considered indispensable, and much has been written in their praise; but to me, they present the most disgusting picture of a bush life.  They are noisy, riotous, drunken meetings, often terminating in violent quarrels, sometimes even in bloodshed.  Accidents of the most serious nature often occur, and very little work is done when we consider the number of hands employed, and the great consumption of food and liquor.

I am certain, in our case, had we hired with the money expended in providing for the bee, two or three industrious, hard-working men, we should have got through twice as much work, and have had it done well, and have been the gainers in the end.

People in the woods have a craze for giving and going to bees, and run to them with as much eagerness as a peasant runs to a race-course or a fair; plenty of strong drink and excitement making the chief attraction of a bee.

In raising a house or barn, a bee may be looked upon as a necessary evil, but these gatherings are generally conducted in a more orderly manner than those for logging.  Fewer hands are required; and they are generally under the control of the carpenter who puts up the frame, and if they get drunk during the raising they are liable to meet with very serious accidents.

Thirty-two men, gentle and simple, were invited to our bee, and the maid and I were engaged for two days preceding the important one, in baking and cooking for the entertainment of our guests.  When I looked at the quantity of food we had prepared, I thought it could never be all eaten, even by thirty-two men.  It was a burning hot day towards the end of July, when our loggers began to come in, and the “gee!” and “ha!” to encourage the oxen resounded on every side.

There was my brother S—–­, with his frank English face, a host in himself; Lieutenant —–­ in his blouse, wide white trousers, and red sash, his broad straw hat shading a dark manly face that would have been a splendid property for a bandit chief; the four gay, reckless, idle sons of —–­, famous at any spree, but incapable of the least mental or physical exertion, who considered hunting and fishing as the sole aim and object of life.  These young men rendered very little assistance themselves, and their example deterred others who were inclined to work.